EUROPEAN DIARY:Unexpected delays and frustrations are a risk on Europe's expanding high-speed train network, writes ARTHUR BEESLEY
MY FAITH in German precision was roused and dashed in the space of a few moments when I ordered a hot sandwich on the train from Frankfurt.
“Come back in seven minutes and it will be done,” said the man. Then the train broke down.
It was but one in a series of snags on what was planned as a quick trip from Brussels to the home of the European Central Bank. Quick it was not. I scarcely got home at all.
Although the ongoing expansion of Europe’s high-speed train network smacks of unerring modernity and constant improvement in the development of a “seamless” cross-continental network, unexpected delays and frustrations remain a risk.
There is Wi-Fi internet access on board these days, impressive food, abundant wine and a loyalty programme akin to those of airlines. Sometimes, however, it all turns sour.
As seen with Eurostar’s travails in the snow, speed can quickly turn to standstill.
It was no different for me the other day, although the customer service when things went badly awry was pretty good.
The first portent of disruption came early that morning in Brussels when I went to collect my tickets. I had booked my seats over the internet a couple of days previously but was told at the station that the direct service had not run for close to a fortnight. The train back that I had booked was also cancelled.
All this meant I would not be benefiting from a journey time of three hours and six minutes. I would be arriving later than anticipated in Frankfurt – via two connections – and leaving earlier. Time was indeed tight. There was scope to do my assignment, but not for lunch.
So hunger had well set in by the time we left Frankfurt, our mighty locomotive gathering pace by the second as the outskirts whooshed by. Soon we arrived at the airport station, where more passengers came aboard.
We were still there when I set off to retrieve my food. I had scarcely reached the next carriage, however, when an arresting voice came over the intercom and ordered everyone off the train immediately due to a fault.
The next train on the opposite line would take us to our destination. There was some grumbling at the inconvenience of it all but we were assured the wait wouldn’t be all that long. Although I was concerned about my connection in Cologne, there was nothing to do but hope for the best.
Sure enough another train arrived after a few minutes. We set off again, hurtling our way into the icy landscape.
The ticket checker didn’t do half measures. Instead of a frayed old timetable, this fellow bore a hand-held computer. Would we make it to Cologne on time?
“No chance,” he said peering into the glow of his tiny screen. Any train later?
“No. Take it up in Cologne.”
There, I stood on the station concourse, half way home and going nowhere.
At the information desk, however, the fellow patiently listened to my story. In a flash, he said the rail company would pay for a hotel in the station. He filled out a form in triplicate, printed copious stamps on my tickets and pointed me on my way.
The hotel wasn’t quite plush, but the welcome was warm enough. The receptionist made like they had been waiting for me all day long.
I phoned home, my elder lad grabbing the receiver for a man-to-man debrief. “Son, I missed the train,” I explained.
“Daddy, take the taxi.”
Logic without bounds, the two-year-old’s prerogative.
Due to further protracted deliberations at the reservation desk early the next morning – don’t ask – I would wait three hours in a cafe before I was on my way again. I feared I would be evicted from the place.
Even on the final stretch home the train lurched to a halt at one point, the lights going out amid grinding sensations underfoot. Not far from Brussels, the ticket checker said we’d be home in 10 minutes. Times four.
The marketing says high-speed rail offers “the safest, greenest and most reliable way to travel from city centre to city centre”.
Sometimes that’s not true, of course, yet still the system grows.
Last month the opening of a high-speed link between Antwerp and Amsterdam cut 51 minutes from the Paris-Brussels- Amsterdam route, a development marked with extensive advertising on billboards in the Belgian capital.
A similar razzmatazz surrounded the completion of a separate high-speed route between Brussels and Aachen on the line to Cologne, bringing the extensive German network closer.
When the system works, there’s nothing quite like a nice smooth train trip of moderate length. But only when it works.