Thursday 24 December 2009

Travel chaos blog #2: I've got a new daddy

Too much of my Christmas Eve was spent stuck in Swindon coach station, another depressingly non-descript transport hub full of frustrated festive travellers.

This time it was a coach gearbox to blame - naturally, I took the inconvenience on the chin and tried to get some shut-eye during the delay. Alas, some of my fellow passengers were far more vocal, with their immediate demand being a National Express-paid-for taxi to Cirencester.

Tuesday 22 December 2009

Eurostar disruption: Chaos and Kebab Man in Calais

Cross-channel holidaymakers became condensation-inflicted refugees last weekend after the suspension of Eurostar services between London and Paris, and I was unfortunate enough to be one of them.

I wasn't among the sorry few to be stranded in the Channel Tunnel for 16 hours without heating, food or water - but I did, like thousands of others, try to get back to London by boarding a ferry in Calais.

Wednesday 9 December 2009

Collective bum-wiping: Manchester to Singapore

Something startling occurred to me this morning during the usual work routine. I was writing a story about Manchester Airport, or more specifically, its toilets.

They are officially the best in Britain. At least, according to a slightly ambiguous and misleading Manchester Airport press release. WCs in Terminals 1 and 2 won five-star ratings from the Loo of the Year Awards, which are recognised by the British Toilet Association. Impressive stuff.

Wednesday 2 December 2009

Cafe Churchill, Whitehall

Today I paid a miserable visit to Cafe Churchill on Parliament Street in Whitehall. It is so awful that I can barely find the words to describe this aggressive little cesspit of an eatery.

The few waiters and single waitress are initally friendly, welcoming and efficient. Then they become pushy and abrupt, asking if you want everything "large" - which is actually 'regular', but it gives them a mandate to charge exorbitant prices for apparently edible produce which is so below par that I'd rather spend my money in Charing Cross McDonald's. After the pubs close on a Friday night. Even a Saturday night.