The Long Journey Home
Occasionally, UtiliPointers have written “what if” type IssueAlert articles, and this is another article in that same vein: “What if there was no more air travel?” I pose the question because of the chaos in Europe right now caused by a volcano with an unpronounceable name in Iceland.
On Thursday, I got up at 4:00 a.m. to catch a flight to Prague and then onto London to meet with a client. As we came in to land at Heathrow, the pilot informed us of a developing situation regarding an ash cloud over Scotland and that Heathrow was going to be shut down at noon. He told us, “in 28 years as a pilot, I have never heard such a thing.” I quickly realized my trip home the following morning might be in doubt and, on arriving at the client’s office in central London, asked for their help in getting me out the next day. The initial plan was to get to Paris where hopefully I could fly back to the Czech Republic. Looking back, this decision turned out to be a good one because getting out of the UK has subsequently proven to be very difficult.
My client’s administrator (a lady for whom I now have much admiration) worked hard from her Houston location trying to find me a flight back. But, by the time my session with the client was over in the early evening, she had succeeded only in getting me to Paris by Euro Star (through the Channel Tunnel by rail). She had also switched my hotel for the evening so that I could make the 5:25 a.m. train, too. Later in the evening, she called to let me know she had finally found something to get me home. I was to fly LOT to Warsaw and then to Prague. Momentarily, we believed the problem had been solved.
Paris By Night
However, later that evening, I was informed that Paris airports were also closed—threatened by the same ash cloud. Now there was nothing to do but get to Paris and then see what I could find in terms of alternate transportation. The 5:25 a.m. Euro Star was packed and all subsequent trains until the following Tuesday were booked solid. All ferries, hovercraft and even rentable boats were also booked solid. There was no way out of the UK for many until mid-week at the earliest, it seemed.
Arriving in Paris at Gare de Nord, my first job was to reach the SNCF ticket office. I was dismayed to find a line of 100 yards had already formed there and so set about shuffling forwards over two hours as the four—yes, just four—counters that were open out of thirty counters available, assisted my fellow travelers. Plainly, no one was prepared. Finally, it was my turn, and after some research, I was told all trains from Paris that day were fully booked—even in first class. I was to stay an evening in Paris, it seemed. Even better, my trip home would comprise of four segments by rail and bus leaving at 7:00 a.m. and arriving around midnight. By now, I had had little sleep and the sleep I had had was poor, so I headed for a local hotel. I was able to check in early and go straight to bed. I was too exhausted to bother with sightseeing in Paris, so I had dinner, tended to some e-mails and then went to bed—ready to once again arise at an early hour. But, all was well: I was going to get home the following day—one of the lucky ones.
Planes, Trains and Automobiles?
The next morning, I boarded an ICE train to Frankfurt in Germany. These trains resemble spacecraft and can travel at 210 km/hour. Luxurious and quiet high speed travel—German engineering efficiency. Two hours later, it was already apparent that German efficiency and engineering were having issues—our train was already 55 minutes late and, on that basis, I was going to miss my next connection. After the penultimate stop at Mannheim, I went to see the train supervisor who was sat in a small office surrounded by computer screens and high tech gadgetry. He confirmed I would miss my connection but there was another train to Vienna that would also stop in Nuremberg in time for my connection to Prague he told me. He gave me the platform number and told me to jump on that one and all should be fine. I felt good, as I was going to make it home after all.
I boarded the ICE train to Vienna—it was packed to overflowing and there were no seats. No matter, I would sit on the floor. The departure time came and went—something was wrong. For the second time that day, German engineering and efficiency were failing me: the engine had a problem. 80 minutes later, the train finally began to move and once again, my connection was missed.
Arriving in Nuremberg, I had missed my connection. I once again joined a long, long line of others seeking to change their travel plans. I was told by one person in line that there were no more buses to Prague until the following day, so it seemed a night in Nuremberg was also on the cards. However, this information proved to be false and I was able to board a bus to Prague at around 4:45 p.m. I had, however, missed the following connection to Brno and would now spend several hours in Prague before catching a 11:11 p.m. train that arrived in Brno at 2:22 a.m. The end was now in sight. I was getting home—one of the lucky ones.
Other Stories
Along the way, I met many others experiencing travel mayhem: Americans trying to head south to try to catch flights that may or may not leave; People trying to reach London stuck on mainland Europe for several days. Even on arrival home, I spoke to an American businessman who runs a Brno-based company who was hiring local taxis and dispatching them thousands of miles across Europe to pick up and return colleagues and staff. It was total chaos.
Summary
There are so many things we take for granted—and easy, convenient low cost air travel is one of them. We do business across the globe because we can and it is relatively easy. One simply forgets how difficult it is to travel without planes. But, our transportation system is fragile and the collapse of one mode, it seems, results in the others also being overwhelmed.
PostScript
I am now following this volcanic ash story with some considerable interest. What I do not understand is how everyone—media included—is accepting what has happened without any questions? Whatever happened to investigative journalism?
Let’s face it, look up at the sky and its blue and clear across Europe. Airline test flights have flown and there has been no damage, no problems and in fact, no ash. Meanwhile, the BBC radio reported last night that several airlines trying to oppose this situation have discovered that the whole ban on flying is based on computer models and that not one single balloon has sampled the atmosphere over Europe. Furthermore, why is there a complete ban on air travel and not just jets? Turboprops have filters fitted and fly at lower levels, so why are they grounded too? Meanwhile, airlines are going bankrupt and 6.7 million people are suffering.
So who took this decision and why?
The media have reported nothing but what they were told to report. Even going through how ash clouds damage jet engines and providing stories of two incidents with near disastrous consequences. But … both of those planes ran into problems when they flew directly into ash clouds above active volcanoes—not flying through some dispersed ash from a distant volcano.
I guess as an analyst who is constantly asking questions, I am stunned that this situation could occur and no one—except, belatedly, the air lines whose very existence is now threatened—would ask questions. OK—it’s a health and safety issue, I know. But, surely more investigation and thinking about this problem should be taking place. Right?
