Tag Archives: no shuttle

Friday 14th August 2015 – ZURICH IN THE RAIN

view from premier class hotel lyon part dieu france
Having crashed out at some silly times like 22:00 last night, and having slept the sleep of the dead, I was up and about, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, by 06:00, admiring the view from my hotel window. And a nice warm shower quickly brought me round into the Land of the Living.

By 06:30 I had finished watching the film that I started yesterday, then edited all of the photos, uploaded them onto the web and then brought my blog

up to date, all by 08:30.

I’ve had a good breakfast too – I’m not sure at all that there will be something for me to eat on the plane to Zurich and while I’m now in possession of a fruit loaf and some biscuits (as well as a bottle of water), thanks to the Carrefour Hypermarket in the gallery down the road, on these kinds of journeys the plan is to eat when I can.

I’ve uploaded a pile of radio programmes to the laptop too, to refresh the radio library, and with a few other things that needed to be done, I was out of the hotel and gone by 10:45.

airport tram lyon part dieu airport st exupery lyon franceAt the station (the other side of the station) there was a tram already parked at the platform ready to go to the airport so even though there’s a €1:00 supplement (on what is already a steep fare) for tickets bought on board, I wasn’t going to hang about. A bird in the hand … and all of that.

Lyon airport is something of a maze, and to make matters worse, you have to look long and hard for a baggage trolley. I couldn’t find one, and at first I thought that they simply didn’t have one, but I later saw someone at the check-in with one so they must exist somewhere. But the terminal is big, clean, light, airy, and there are not too many people about. At the baggage check-in, I didn’t even have to queue. There was an assistant waiting for me.

Even the passage through “security” was relatively stress-free, although the woman at the scanner had a good moan about my camera. I think however that that is more to do with the fact that she was of the moaning type, rather than for any other good purpose.

dash 8 400 swissair flight lyon france zurich switzerlandAs for our plane – well, what can I say? It was nominally a Dash 8-400, built by Bombardier in Canada, but you don’t need to be an aircraft expert to recognise this for what it is – a Vickers Vimy.

Orville and Wilbur Wright were at the controls, Ameilia Earhart was sitting at the back, and I had to move Glenn Miller’s sandwiches off my seat. That’s the kind of plane that it was.

view fromair dash 8 400 taking off from Lyon st exupery airport franceI shan’t say much about the flight. The events speak for themselves. We had to wear our seatbelts throughout the entire flight and they refused to serve tea and coffee at any moment during the flight. All of the kids were screaming during the flight, and one or two of the adults were too. Not for the faint-hearted, this particular flight.

And as for the landing – well, we didn’t actually land. It was more like we were shot down over the airport. But even that didn’t deter the passengers, many of whom rose from their knees to give the pilot a round of applause – presumably to celebrate the end of the flight

And it was here that everything started to go wrong. I was waiting for over an hour for the hotel shuttle bus to arrive, which it never did. And no-one answered the hotel telephone. Eventually, another hotel bus driver told me that there wasn’t one for the Ibis Budget Hotel. He offered to take me for 20:00 CHF

However I’m not easily taken in by this kind of thing and I walked down to the bus station. Here, one friendly river with whom I had quite a chat with whatever German I could remember. He sent me over to the 510 bus an while the driver was a little on the grumpy side, he put me off at the right place and pointed out the way to the hotel from there – all of 50 metres.

At the hotel, there’s no electrics for guests. All of the sockets are these two-pin mini-continental sockets and you need to buy an adapter – cost 10CHF.

We had a few words about that, and at the end of our debate she finished with "is there anything else that I can do for you?"
Well, she was in her early 20s, long blond hair, a nice shape, but I remembered where I was."No thanks. You’ll probably want me to pay for it".

old land rover snow plough zurich airport switzerlandWhen the rain stopped (did I say that it was p155ing down?) I walked back to the airport for a recce. I ended up walking past the car park for a hire company. And here parked at the back was an old Land Rover snowplough that had clearly better days.

In fact, this is quite a rarity here in Switzerland. There are all kinds of old cars in the country but mostly quite expensive and fully-restored. I can’t say that I have ever seen a vehicle in this kind of condition lying about like this.

zurich airport switzelandYes, I really did walk back to the airport. It took me all of about 15 minutes. And I’m glad that I did because it gave me an opportunity to photograph it

I discovered that a 24-hour ticket would cost me 13:20CHF to cover all of the zones that I need to get into the city, and so I duly did. Had I done that earlier, instead of paying the bus driver for the single journey, I would have been quids-in. But you have to pay to learn.

I found an all-night supermarket, lots of water, and a main-line railway station where, inter alia a train goes every evening to Budapest. I made a note of that. But I’ll tell you something – I was astonished by the number of beggars (mostly young, fit types) loitering in the streets.

zurich city centre by night switzerland

Another thing that I noticed was that allbut one of my night-time images of Zurich didn’t come out. I’d gone into the city with the intention of trying out the camera on the phone at night in an urban environment, and the result has not been succeesful. The daytime ones work fine as you can see, because everything to date has been taken with that.

And on the way in, I noticed at the Haldenbach tram stop an imbiss type of place so I leapt off the tram (such are the advantages of a 24-hour tram ticket) and yes, they did indeed sell falafel.

So I’m fed and watered and ready to bed. But I’m struggling to come to terms with Swiss prices.

Sunday 6th October 2013 – WE HAVEN’T FINISHED WITH THE NONSENSE YET EITHER.

I arrived at Paris Charles de Gaulle airport way behind schedule, as you might expect, just in time to see the 13:25 plane to Athens disappearing over the horizon. This was … errr … something of a disappointment, especially as the next plane to Greece was not until 18:30.

Consequently, I had several hours to fill and, believe it or not, in the airport concourse there is little (if anything) available in the way of food that I can eat – in fact, food that anyone can eat. However, this was an eventuality for which I was not unprepared, and the rather large bag of ginger biscuits ($1:00 courtesy of a USA Dollar Store) filled what was rapidly becoming a large hole.

But on my perambulations around the airport, I fell in with a French border policeman and it transpires that he lives just about half an hour from Pooh Corner, in St Bonnet as it happens. We had quite a lengthy chat about the Combrailles and the surrounding area, and we parted the best of friends. It’s a shame that other border police and security guards can’t be as friendly as this guy. Travelling would be a pleasure with people like him to deal with.

Not so the staff at Air France. It seems that while they had managed to fix me up with a place on the flight, nothing had been said to anyone about my baggage. Consequently I was menaced with a €170 excess baggage charge. This likewise led to some discussion, not as heated as anything else on this nightmare journey – not the least reason of which was the fact that I needed some people to be on my side and do things for me – not like in the other situations in Montreal where I was well and truly in the chair. Anyway, to cut a long story short … "hooray" – ed … we eventually settled on a fee of €30:00 – still €30:00 too much but that was the best that I could do.

Eventually though, we were called up to the departure lounge – to find that our plane wasn’t there. “Flight number (whatever it was) to Athens is delayed, due to the late arrival of a connection from Washington DC”. They didn’t do that for me, of course, and that is one of the reasons why travelling with bucket-shop carriers is a hazardous occupation.

air france airbus 321 paris charles de gaulle france athens greeceAnother Airbus of course, but Air France, and so a world of difference, even if (surprisingly) there was no in-flight entertainment at all. A vegan meal too, for which I am grateful.

But the fun was only just beginning.

Landing eventually at Athens I started to look for the Holiday Inn where they had arranged for me to stay and which I’m told was at the airport. With no sign of life I approached a helpful airport guy.
“The Holiday Inn? It’s about 10 kms from here”
“Really? So how do I get there?”
“There are shuttle buses that run every 30 minutes from outside the airport” and he showed me where to wait.

45 minutes later, I thought that this was strange, but then again, it is Greece. So the helpful airport guy found me the number and I rang it
“Do I have to ring you to tell you that I’m here so that you can come to pick me up?”
“The shuttle stops running at 22:00 (it was not 00:30)”
“So how do I get to you?”
“You take a taxi”
“But I haven’t got the kind of cash that permits me to take a taxi”
“Well the express bus X93 passes our doorstep if you can persuade the driver to drop you off”.

Luckily there was an X93 at the bus stop and in his bad English and my even worse Greek, we arranged that he would indeed drop me there. But I needed to buy a ticket from the kiosk across the road. Off I duly trotted, paid the €5:00 and turned round just in time to see the X93 disappearing over the horizon.

Anyway, after a while an X95, also signposted to Athens, appeared and it seems that he took more-or-less the same route – at least, passing by the Holiday Inn. And he agreed to drop me there, which he duly did, much to my gratitude.

01:30 now. “Do you know that I had waited nearly an hour for your shuttle bus at the airport?” I said to the guy at reception at the hotel. And like anyone there really cared in the slightest. And the coffee tray in the room was empty and the lights didn’t work properly (but that was a switch issue, although they might have explained to me how to make them work).

There was an overnight petrol station across the road and they fixed me up with some orange juice and biscuits, and then I made the dreadful mistake of having a long and refreshing hot shower to relax me after my efforts. Now of course, it’s 04:00 and I can’t sleep and I’m being called at 06:30.

Somehow it’s just not been my day.