Hilary and Stan in Europe 2011 - Day 16 - Djon to Manchester

View of the courtyard outside our hotel bedroom window

We woke to sunshine streaming into our bedroom window, a welcome change to the storm yesterday. It's our last day here in Djon, so we'll make the best of the good weather.  However, it's also Bastille Day, one of the most important holidays in all of France.  We were acutely reminded of this at 10:00 AM.

Hilary called me to the window - "come quick!"  A squadron of French fighter jets had just rumbled past our hotel window.

Unfortunately, all of the art galleries and museums that we might have seen today are closed. I suppose, if we had planned it better, we could have toured museums and art galleries yesterday instead of today, and deferred cycling until this morning.  Anyway, when we emerged from our hotel, the streets were empty, markets were closed and only a few stores, mostly catering to tourists, were open.

What a big difference from the bustling city we've seen over the past few days. Walking through Djon this morning was actually quite enjoyable.

Our fast train from Djon to Paris

We found a small sidewalk cafe near the main plaza for lunch, before heading back to the hotel to collect our luggage and head to the train.



 

Gare du Nord - the Paris terminal for Eurostar Chunnel

Our destination was Manchester, where Hilary's cousin Harry and his wife Racquelle live. It was a complicated journey, as we had to make connections in Paris in order to catch the Eurostar train through the Chunnel into London. From there, we had just over an hour to get from St Pancras station to Euston Station, where a third train would take us to Manchester.  It turned out that Racquelle, a lawyer who works out of her office in Manchester, had to be in London for business, so she was planning to meet us on the train to Manchester.  We just HAD to make that train!

We arrived in Paris on time, and promptly caught a taxi from the train station where the Djon train arrived to Gare du Nord, the huge train station in Paris where the Eurostar train to London departs.  We boarded on the Eurostar train, breathing a sign of relief, as, if we had missed that train, no telling when we would arrive in Manchester.

The Chunnel entrance.. next stop: Britain

Things looked good, until just before we were about to enter the Chunnel.

Then, the train stopped! And the dreaded announcement "We apologize for the delay, however, there has been a problem with one of the trains in the tunnel and we're awaiting clearance to proceed".  Apparently, for safety reasons, only one train is allowed into the Chunnel at a time.  This is perfectly understandable, as if there was ever a need to evacuate a one of the Chunnel compartments, the adjoining tunnel would be needed to give ready access. 

And so, we waited. Eventually, an announcement was made that we were clear to enter the tunnel.  By then, however, we were over 45 minutes late.  We now had less than twenty minutes to get from the Eurostar train to our connecting train in Manchester! If we missed it, we'd end up in Manchester well after midnight. Worse, once we emerged from the Chunnel, Hilary found she was having difficulty reaching Harry and Racquelle on her cell phone.

What to do?

St. Pancras station

We got out of our seats, grabbed our luggage - two 45 lb suitcases, my laptop and a backpack - and made our way to the door.  We had to be one of the first passengers off the train, or we would be swept up in the crowd streaming off, blocking a quick exit. While we were there, we chatted with a young couple who were in an even worse circumstance than us.  They had to get to Heathrow in less than an hour for them to make their flight back to Australia!

The train stopped.  I grabbed both big suitcases, which, fortunately were on wheels, and literally ran down the train platform

toward the exit, Hilary dashing behind me, trying to keep up.  One of the wheels on the luggage was malfunctioning, so it rattled noisily on the pavement.  Good thing.  It sounded like a mechanized tolley, chattering along... which, if you heard it coming at you, would be scary en ugh to make you want to get out of the way. The crowd seemed to part ahead of me like the Red sea.  Fortunately, before we left the train, we had been able to get detailed instructions from a fellow passenger on how to get out of St. Pancras to Euston station, so we had a pretty good idea where we were going. Hilary looked out for the doors, and shouted directions to me... turn right!  Look for the Taxi sign! We climbed into a waiting taxi in what must have been record time.  Minutes later, we were at Euston station, and were off running again. 

On our way to Manchester

Thank God, the train was still there.  We got in. The doors closed behind us, and in less than three minutes, the train was moving out of the station. It was THAT close!  Whew.

We made our way to our seats.  I was sweating bullets... but, we had made it!  And there, in the seat across the aisle opposite ours, was Racquelle! All was well.  Once we got though breathless greetings, we settled down to enjoy a lovely ride into Manchester. As the sun set outside our coach window, I thought about the wonderful holiday we've just had in France, and how well everything has turned out so far.  The next few days will be such fun.  I remembered Harry and Racquelle from their visit to Vancouver a few years ago and knew we shared a common love for the outdoors.

Harry met us at the train station, and took us to their home in Manchester. Tomorrow, we'll be going to their cottage in  Keswick, a little English village the Manchester Lake District.