A Chunnel Experience

The cue to board the train

In my opinion, the Euro Tunnel, also known as the Channel Tunnel or the Chunnel, is an example of amazing modern technology. Connecting Calais, France to Folkestone, United Kingdom the Chunnel is a 23.5 mile rail tube that transports trains and their passengers and cargo at up to 99 miles per hour under the English Channel. The tunnel has reduced what had been a 90 minute ferry ride to a 35 minute train ride. I remember reading about the tunnel when it first opened and was immediately fascinated by it. And this past weekend we finally joined the over 10 million people who transit under the English Channel each year.

This year (2014) marks the 20th anniversary of the opening of the tunnel but the planning for the tunnel dates back for over two centuries. As early as 1802 there were conversations about the feasibility of a tunnel that would connect Great Britain with continental Europe. In the 1880s exploratory tunnels on both sides of the Channel were drilled but later abandoned. For the next one hundred years more discussions were held but due to wars, skepticism, costs and international disagreements the tunnel never became a reality. But finally in 1987, an agreement was reached between England and France with ground finally being broken the following year. Boring of the tunnel took place on both the English and French sides. By the time the two sides met, 15,000 people had been employed during its construction and ten construction workers had lost their lives. The total cost was (in today's terms) 12 billion pounds. And six years after construction began, the tunnel was opened with Queen Elizabeth II and Francoise Mitterrand meeting in Calais before traveling back to England together. The American Society of Civil Engineers named the tunnel as one of seven wonders of the modern world.

So how did I like the tunnel? I must say that it was even more impressive than I had imagined. The whole operation moved like a well oiled machine. (With up to four trains leaving an hour, twenty four hours a day, 365 days a year for twenty years, it makes sense that things went smoothly). The maze of flyovers, inspection booths, and passport control centers on both sides of the tunnel were staffed by surprisingly chipper employees who actually wanted to help. Cars and trucks were moved on and off with efficiency I haven't witnessed in a long time. Even when our train had a technical difficulty on our return trip, we were seamlessly offloaded and moved onto a new train. Perhaps the airlines could take a few cues from the Eurotunnel operations staff.....I suppose you could say we sat back and relaxed as our train sped under the Channel and back up again. I must say, the time really flew and it felt as though it was over before it had even begun. Soon we were spit out onto British soil and off we went.

Would I use the tunnel again? Absolutely. In fact, we already have a return trip planned.

"Relaxing" on the train; or at least that is what the loudspeaker
encouraged us to do

Wordless Wednesday: Albania Ferry Service

Little Pitchers Have Big Ears

I'm raising a little boy. As such, his current obsessions include cars, trains and airplanes.  From watching their wheels go around while playing with cars and constructing a maze of tracks throughout the living room for trains to providing detailed (bi-lingual) descriptions of what one needs to do in order to fly on an airplane, Sidney spends hours fixating on these modes of transportation. Upon boarding a hydro-ferry recently Sidney saw the seat configurations and proclaimed that it was just like riding an airplane.  He really is such a boy!  In many respects this works out well for us since the lure of an airplane or train ride during an upcoming trip is enough to prod my otherwise pokey boy into picking up his toys, cleaning up his room, or even finishing his dinner.  (I am not ashamed to admit that, on occasion I will resort to bribery).  Yes, travel by any of these modes of transportation is just that exciting for him and we take full advantage of it.  Because of this, all is well until it just isn't any more.

During our recent trip to Greece our hotel was situated near the airport. While most people would probably be turned of by this, the location worked out well for us since it provided hours of anticipatory entertainment because you never knew when a plane would land or take off and you had to be on the lookout.  A routine quickly developed.  Sidney would first hear the plane then upon spotting it would shriek with excitement and point at the sky to inform everyone within ear shot of the airplane.  His excitement became a joke amongst our group and soon everyone was on the lookout for the next airplane.  During our final night on the island we were playing the same game during dinner.  At one point during the long evening a conversation a few chairs down from Sidney turned to the recent crash of a U.S. military plane in Afghanistan.  The voices were low and I was only hearing bits and pieces of the conversation while Sidney appeared to be focusing on eating his dinner (and playing with a match box car) so I didn't give the conversation much thought.  That was until one of our fellow diners spotted an outbound plane and alerted Sidney.

What did my airplane loving boy do? Instead of pointing and yelling with delight he looked at me with tears in his big blue eyes and informed me that it was bad and the people on the plane were scared. Using his hand, he then mimicked the actions of a plane taking off before abruptly changing direction and crashing onto the table next to his dinner plate.  All conversation around us stopped as we quickly assured Sidney that the plane and its passengers were safe.  He nodded and returned to his dinner but with the spotting of the next plane he again stated that the passengers were scared.  When this pattern continued for the rest of the evening and started again the next morning, I began to wonder how I could address this fear. 

As our (bad) luck would have it, later that morning our group toured the grounds of the Gjirokastra Castle which includes the remains of a 1950s era U.S. military plane.  Our English speaking guide shared the original story of how the plane came to be there (the Albanian military shot down the insurgent aircraft) then the real story (it had mechanical trouble and was forced to land). I don't know how much of this Sidney heard because he was focused on the "broken" plane in front of him.  Glenn and I quickly ushered him away from the wreckage but the image had already been set in stone in Sidney's young mind.  Once home, and still pondering how we should proceed with Sidney's new found fear, we made the mistake (?) of turning on the television to try to catch up on the news.  And what was the first image we saw?  Nothing other than the burned out wreckage of a crashed plane sitting on the runway at the San Francisco airport.  We quickly shut off the television but I fear it wasn't fast enough since Sidney was in the room.  Even two weeks out from our trip Sidney still talks about airplanes being bad, the broken plane, plane crashes, and people being scared.  As if this wasn't bad enough, in the same two weeks we have heard and seen stories about a freight train exploding in Canada and a commuter train crashing in Paris.  To my knowledge Sidney is still oblivious (I hope at least) to these incidents since, while he still likes to crash his trains while playing with them, he hasn't indicated that he is afraid to ride them. In fact, he even asked if we could take a train to Poland this fall instead of an airplane.  (The answer is no since Albanian trains really are that scary). We just need to make sure it stays this way.   

The old adage really is true.  You never know what children will hear.  No wait, I take that back because they hear everything.  My lesson from all of this?  Assume Sidney will hear and see it all even if he appears to be oblivious.  And now we have to figure out how to counter his newly found fears.  I know I can't shelter him from every tragic event and the day will come when I have no control over what he does and doesn't see and hear, but in the meantime I want to protect him. I want my airplane and train loving little boy back.  I want him to feel safe and excited about these modes of transportation.  Heck, if need be, I'll even join him in playing airplane for hours on end. 

Riding the Rails in Budapest

We spent the past weekend in Budapest, Hungary. It was my second trip there but the first for Glenn and Sidney so we spent most of our time re(exploring) the City's great sights.  Thanks to Budapest's great public transportation system --in the form of a funicular, trams, trains, the underground subway, and a cog rail, we covered a lot of territory in a very short time.  We were whisked to the top of the Castle District on the Budavari Siklo, a three carriage funicular that was unlike any other I've ever ridden.  I had ridden the Budapest underground during my  previous visit.  Despite one schedule change that was only transmitted in Hungarian and resulted in my ending up in a part of the city I had not anticipated visiting, I loved their subway system.  It was immaculately clean and efficient (even the high speed escalators that whisks passengers deep into the bowels of the city moved quickly).  Most charming of all, the actual subway cars resembled something from decades ago yet were better maintained and more attractive than the new ones that grace most of America's public transportation systems.  I have to admit that on my most recent visit, I was saddened to not be able to ride any of these old fashioned cars.  Rather, it looked like we were riding in brand new subway cars that were just as efficient and well maintained.  Coming from a land with no safe public transportation, the last thing I should have been doing was complaining about it being too new!



The little engine that could

 At the suggestion of my friend Pam, and with step-by-step transfer directions provided by the concierge at our hotel, we spent Sunday riding the rails up into the Buda Hills.  With no particular end destination in mind, we took a total of four trains--the subway (via very new subway cars), a tram, a cog rail train, then finally an antique train pulled by a steam engine-- as we left the rain of the city behind us and exchanged it for rolling hills and falling snow.  This final train was the Gyermekvasut, or Children's Railroad. A relic from the Communist Era, this small railroad, under the supervision of adults, is operated by children ages 10 to 14 who do everything from selling the tickets, serving as on board conductors, and guiding the trains into the stations.  The only thing they don't actually do themselves is serve as the train engineers (and I bet that is the best job). 

The train arriving under the direction of  children

The Gyermekvasut got its start as a program of the Youth Pioneers in the 1940s and from the crisp salutes as the trains enter the stations to the sharp uniforms that are smaller versions of those worn by Hungarian State Railway employees, the railway's Communist roots are evident.  The Gyermekvasut was modeled after similar versions operating in the Soviet Union and Yugoslavia with high achieving students from Budapest schools being selected for these coveted positions.  What started with a few kilometers of track eventually and work camp like youth employment conditions has expanded to its present 11.2 kilometers of narrow gauge rails and children lining up to participate in what I think is the coolest hands on work experience a child could get.

We spent a couple of hours on the train chugging through the Budapest woods.  Because it was the weekend the train was filled with other families escaping, yet experiencing the wet snow.  As the train pulled into each station it was met by at least two saluting youth and upon departure our tickets were checked and announcements were made by the child workers on board.  The service was efficient and impressive.  This simple train ride was one of the coolest ways I have played tourist in a long time. 



The boys checking out a map at the train station