A rail holiday - heaven or hell?

Not a great start to our Swiss train adventure

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Hello and welcome 🤗

Setting off on a Swiss rail journey adventure, my husband and I walked to our local train station, having parked up at a friend’s house nearby. We were all buoyed up and in holiday mode. Our rail adventure had begun.

We thought travelling by rail would be relatively stress free. Wrong. The first leg of the journey went okay, although we were delayed 10 minutes pulling into the station, apparently waiting for a slot on the platform. Who knew?

Our journey to London involved one change. We had 24 minutes in which to make our connection. We had checked which platform we needed and headed straight there as soon as we alighted the train. Up two flights of stairs, a fairly long walk over a bridge, then back down again. Great - plenty of time in hand. We checked with a railway worker if the train we wanted to London was in fact the stationary one alongside us. He confirmed it was. We sighed in relief and even managed a quick loo break.

We duly boarded what we were told was the London bound train and were pleased to find that we had a choice of seats, aka the carriages were empty. Feeling smug, we settled down having stowed our backpacks in the overhead luggage rails. Fortunately, we had opted to send a large suitcase ahead - at a cost - but which turned out to be money well spent, and based on this first leg of our journey alone, we were relieved that we had made the right choice. For once.

Adrian decided to tuck into his packed lunch while I sat back and relaxed. 😎 After 20 minutes and no sign of a single other passenger, we began to feel a little uneasy. It felt a bit like being in one of those dreams where you’re trying to get somewhere for a really important meeting, but you keep being thwarted, like steps that suddenly stop in mid air. And when you take an alternative route it leads back to where you came from. (Any dream experts care to analyse these recurring dreams of mine?!)

Having checked the Trainline app yet again, we decided to go back across the bridge - grateful once again for having sent our heavy suitcase ahead of us - to catch a later train, deciding that the train we were sitting on was going nowhere. The five empty carriages should have been a clue.

Eventually, (more delays), we boarded train number 2 for the second leg of our journey to London. It was a scrum to find a seat due to the delayed first train, but we managed to find seats and, once again, stowed our rucksacks safely in the overhead luggage rack.

Whew! We had made it. Time to sit back and enjoy the journey. I reached into my bag for my phone. I couldn’t find it. Nooooooo!! I can’t lose my phone. We’re off to Switzerland for a rail journey adventure. It wasn’t starting well. I checked my bag again. My phone was nowhere to be seen.

OMG! My worst nightmare. Losing my phone just as I am about to leave the country to go on holiday. How the hell am I going to sort everything out remotely without my laptop?!!!

I checked again, decanting everything from my bag like a mad bumble bee foraging around on a particularly sweet flower head. ‘I must have left it on the other train!’ I exclaim. ‘Come on!’ I yell at my husband. ‘We’ll have to go back.’ He protested at first but when I marched towards the train doors like a woman possessed, he figured he had better follow. For better, for worse…

Just as we reached the door, the train started to move. I swear, I had a James Bond moment when I fleetingly thought about jumping out of a moving train. However, life is never like it is in the movies, as we all know. For a start, you can’t open the doors of a train once it’s in motion - quite rightly. Shit. We turned around and made our way sheepishly back to our seats. I felt terrible. My holiday was ruined before it had even started.

Adrian said he would ring my phone to make sure it wasn’t in my bag. I was distraught. How the hell was I going to cope without my phone? It’s my lifeline. It contains so much information. I move money around, check and respond to emails, keep in touch with family and friends. The list goes on and on.

I looked one last time. Black on black inside an inner pocket, there it was safely stowed away. The relief was incredible. I felt foolish. Husband rolled his eyes, crossed his arms and said, ‘Don’t say a word.’ For once, I complied.

Rolling into Euston station on a hot, sultry afternoon, London felt hot and buzzy. So many people! And everyone in such a mad, crazy hurry. Almost immediately, the sound of wailing sirens filled the air. We had arrived in the city.

A short walk from the train station to the tube, an extraordinary feat of engineering. Down an escalator, tapping the barrier with our debit cards, a long walk along a busy, stifling hot corridor, up two flights of steps, a quick check of the underground map and…we were on the wrong platform. Re-trace our steps, along more crowded corridors, down a long, steep escalator and finally we reach the correct platform.

Fortunately, family friends have a flat in The Barbican and very kindly let us stay there. Four stops and we pushed our way through the city throng, eventually emerging up and out into bright sunshine and less cloying air. A short walk and we reached our resting place for the night, tired and weary from our long journey.

We had a very enjoyable evening and drank chilled white wine on the lakeside terrace of The Barbican, bathed in late afternoon sun, people watching and finally relaxing properly into holiday mode.

Up early the following morning, we set off once again for the tube feeling refreshed after a good night’s sleep. Three stops took us to our destination, St. Pancras Station. Structurally and aesthetically the best train station in London, by far. The Victorian architecture is grand, imposing and timeless. A guy was playing a piano in the middle of the concourse and I watched as a worker sweeping the floor and emptying bins, called him boss while offering him a bottle of water. A small act of kindness repaid with a smile and a nod as the pianist played on.

Although it was not yet 08:00, the station was packed. Hundreds of travellers milling around. Coffee shops, swanky stores and high street shops all vying for the passengers’ custom. We grabbed a coffee and were staggered at the array of breakfast choices, from elaborate cakes to brioche bacon buns, and everything else in between.

Time to board the Eurostar and more waiting around in an overcrowded waiting area. Not one vacant seat anywhere. Standing shoulder to shoulder with other passengers, we got talking to an Australian couple who were touring Europe. Thank goodness for some good company as there was nothing to do and nowhere to go. An hour and a half later we eventually boarded coach 12 and settled into our seats for a three and a half hour journey. Turns out that with the time difference of one hour, our train ride was a mere two and a half hours, which flew by.

Arriving in Paris at Gare du Nord, we had a couple of hours of kicking our heels and had befriended a couple from our group while decanting from the Eurostar. They invited us to join them and we passed the time very pleasantly over a snack and some chilled white wine at a great little Parisian cafe. They turned out to be good fun which augurs well for the rest of the holiday. 🤞

A short walk from the street cafe back to Gare de l’E’st and another wait to see which platform to board. Finally, we fell into our allocated seats on the TGV and hurtled towards Strasbourg.

Our evening meal was booked for 20:00 and I dare say that we will be ready for an early night after another long day of travelling.

The La Petite France area of Strasbourg is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. With its half timbered houses, cobblestone streets and meandering canals it is utterly charming and well worth a visit

Our first group dinner went well and a relatively early night meant a good start to the day in Strasbourg, where we had some free time to wander around. We drank in the atmosphere of this pretty town on the French/German border and thoroughly enjoyed our time there.

Strasbourg train station

Leaving Strasbourg, we are heading to Tiefencastel in Switzerland, which will be our base for five days. Now that is the part I am most looking forward to. Some breathtaking scenery in the heart of the Swiss Alps. I promise to take lots of photos to share in my next post.

I will leave you there and continue our journey next week. I will also be better placed to give you my verdict on a wholly train based holiday, and whether it was heavenly or hellish!

I hope you have a great week wherever you are in the world.