A EUROSTAR TALE

By Nicholas Newman 23 September 2006

‘Champagne sir?’ the waitress said, startling the passengers seated around the table in business class as the Eurostar dashed through the Kent countryside for the Channel Tunnel

Conversations of current events on most railway journeys with fellow passengers are often desultory and seldom profound. Such was not the case on my recent journey by Eurostar to Brussels where a wide range of differing opinions were expressed by cosmopolitan fellow travellers and enlivened by a first class menu and lubricated by an excellent vintage.

Seated with me, as I had already discovered was an elegantly dressed German business women named Trudy; Robin a stocky senior British government official and Jaan a Polish footballer on his way to try out for the Belgium football team Anderlecht.

As the champagne was served, I noticed Trudy reading on her laptop about Tesco recruiting Poles to work in their supermarkets. ‘That’s interesting.’ I commented.

Trudy laughed, ‘Yes… that certainly explains my servant problem.’ Trudy went on to explain that she had bought back her old ancestral home from the Polish government. Her family had been one of the Prussian aristocracy that had all their property confiscated after the last war and been forced to flee to Germany.

What she found was a ruin, the ballroom was a pigsty. It took her several years to buy it back; her mother cried when she saw the sorry state their former home. Trudy was having a terrible problem finding builders to restore the place. She had been in England to recruit Polish builders to return back to Poland to repair her ancestral home. ‘It’s a bit like the old English saying of sending coals to Newcastle, i.e. pointless since coal is produced in the Newcastle area.’ I laughed.

‘So I must be… a coal to Newcastle’ Jaan broke into the conversation as the first course of Norwegian smoked salmon with a dill taboulleh and a lemon wedge was served. ‘I have just been trying out at Arsenal and am on my way to Anderlecht, I can’t make up my mind which team to join,’ he added. It turned out Jaan had been invited by various European clubs to join them. His agent had gone ahead to Brussels to open negotiations. Jaan said: ‘I think what will decide it will be where my girlfriend has a job, she’s working as a doctor at London’s Great Ormond Street Children’s Hospital.’

I remarked: ‘It seems there are now one million Poles in Britain, London is being colonized by poles and I expect the new leadership in Poland is not improving things.’

‘Oh you mean the terrible twins, Jaroslaw the Prime Minister and President Lech Kaczynski.’ Trudy interjected ‘they are making Poland a laughing stock with their views about hanging, gay rights and abortion.’ Jaan added ‘They seem to be doing little about tackling Poland’s corruption problem; it’s almost as if all this talk about returning to old family values is part of their way to divert the Polish public from the real problems facing the country.’

As the second course, Duck confit with a peach sauce, sugar snap peas and grilled potatoes was served and our champagne glasses were recharged, Robin changed the subject with the question ‘What do you think about nuclear power?’ We all answered we were for it. It turned out Robin was on his way to the European Commission to raise an extra $200m for a $600m project to build a new containment building to entomb the reactor that was the site of the accident at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant site.

The existing containment building, built in a hurry after the accident twenty years ago, is crumbling. ‘The trouble is the French contractors supervising the construction have discovered they need extra money and time to complete the project.’ Robin observed. His task in Brussels was to meet with representative of the European Commission and G8 to raise the extra money. He thought, as usual, that the Americans would be footing most of the bill, with the EU giving $20m. As for Russia’s contribution, it will depend on how generous they feel towards their current government in Kiev.

Trudy asked Robin ‘Have you been to Chernobyl?’ In fact it emerged that Robin regularly visits the site as part of the International Atomic Energy Agency inspection team. What surprised him was how all the gloom and doom merchants predictions had been proved wrong. He went on to explain that because people had been evacuated, wildlife was doing very well and did not seem to be suffering from the effects of the radiation that had escaped due to the accident.

As for the people who were exposed in the area around the plant, they are more likely to die of lung cancer and poverty than from any direct affects of the accident of the accident the IAEA experts had concluded. Apart from the workers involved in the misfortune, there have been very few directly attributable deaths.

‘More champagne, coffee or tea’ the waitress said as we tucked into our Cherry tart desert as the train sped away from Lille.

‘Well since we are in France, who do you think will win next year’s French presidential election?’ I said and added. ‘Will it be the socialist politician Ségolène Royal or the conservative one Nicolas Sarkozy?’ We had a heated discussion about the relative merits of these two candidates, their policies, scandals and this being France their love lives. What came out was that their nomination as their respective party’s presidential candidates was not a done deal. Trudy agued ‘if the old political dinosaurs in the Socialist Party, like Jack Lang, let Madame Royal win the parties nomination, then there dreams of ever becoming president are over.

“The same goes for Monsieur Sarkozy; President Chirac regards Nicolas as a traitor to his political legacy and too popular by half for his own good.’ She went on to explain she thought Chirac has adopted the uncharismatic French Prime Minister De Villepin as his political heir in his desperate attempts to stop Nicolas Sarkozy getting his party’s nomination. Robin commented ‘in France the early front runner usually does not make it to the final hurdle.’

At this moment there was announcement that the train would be soon arriving in Brussels, we packed up and said our goodbyes and the train came to a halt at Brussels’ Eurostar terminal. We left the train in a good mood and exhilarated by both the good meal and wide ranging conversation. Where else, except on Eurostar could one have enjoyed such an experience?

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