Well, what I really think is unprintable, particularly on a Sunday, but let’s just go with “Pathetic” & “Overrated”

I have travelled extensively, and endured some pretty horrendous experiences, but never in my entire life have I experienced such ineptitude; such appalling lack of anything approaching customer care; such an incredible absence of organisation – and all of that does not begin to convey my anger and my bewilderment.

It began on Sunday evening – December 20th. My son had arrived from the UK for a long weekend visit, via Eurostar, and had just managed to get through the Tunnel, before the four trains ground to a halt in there and so many passengers were stranded – but more about that shortly, because personally, I have nothing but praise for the way Eurostar have handled themselves – real customer care at work.

We knew that it was unlikely we would be able to get to the UK on the 21st via Eurostar, as according to the regularly updated bulletins, they were still experiencing difficulties. We therefore determined that our only option, was to drive to Calais,(around 250 kilometers) and get to England as foot passengers.

Setting off at noon, we made very good time, and were totally confident that we would easily make our 6pm crossing – that optimism was soon replaced by anxiety, as just two miles from the ferry terminal we hit the traffic jam, that was going nowhere – and I mean absolutely nowhere. In fact it took more than two hours for us to find our way to the P&O booking office, and that is where we encountered the first example of total ineptitude:

JF: “Good evening, we are booked on the 6pm crossing, but we have been stuck in traffic, what should we do?”

P&O Representitive behind counter (with a shrug of the shoulders) “I don’t know”

JF: “I am sorry (why was I apologizing? We Brits always apologize) if you don’t know, who does?

P&O Rep: “They don’t tell us anything, I have no idea when the next ferry will sail, maybe tonight, maybe not. You better go and join the queue over at the terminal”

So we made our way across the car-park and through nine or ten inches of snow, to witness a queue which extended out of the main building, around the block and back again. There were hundreds of would-be passengers, huddled in small groups, and anxiously awaiting some form of communication, some clue as to when and if they might sail.

By now, the temperatures had plummeted to around minus 6C, and logic persuaded me that not everyone in the queue could possibly have a reservation, most probably many of them had made it from Paris, after Eurostar cancelled it’s services, and they were hoping to buy a ticket. And I was spot on. Total, total, chaos!

I was not prepared to stand around in the vain hope that something might happen, so making sure Joe was following me closely, I fought my way through the thronged masses until we almost were inside the terminal – we had reservations, and I was determined that if a ferry was going to leave, we would be on it. I thought of  Dunkirk.

Gradually, we started moving – and two and a half hours later, we were boarding. But what an utterly miserable passage of time. No announcements; no staff in sight; no refreshments – just a sea of bedraggled, bewildered and exhausted human beings, who were being treated like cattle.

The girl at the ticket desk asked “Can I take your name?” I said “Why, are you fed up with your own?” I am not sure why, or how, but I always manage to see humor, even in the most depressing situations.

The crossing was uneventful. There were queues for everything – naturally. So my journey consisted of waiting in line for more than an hour for coffee and whatever else was left. I smiled when I saw a notice pinned to the Bureau de Change office – “Back in an hour” – the journey only took an hour and twenty minutes!

When the Purser announced that we would be docking in about fifteen minutes, I prompted Joe into action, so that we would disembark as soon as possible. We needed a taxi to the station, and somehow I doubted there would be many available. But in fact, we waited another hour, because there were no berths available for our ferry – I can only imagine that the Captain forgot to tell the Purser.

We were then told that buses would be waiting for us, and they would ferry us to the station - at last some good news. But first we had to endure a short bus ride from the ferry to the terminal. And it was another endurance. I asked the driver if in fact our information was correct, would there be transport to the station? “No mate, they stopped running at 9pm” It was now 9.05pm!

It seemed to take an age to load the bus, because the driver insisted on cramming as many of us as he could into every available space. I said “I am sorry, I cannot move any further down the bus with this heavy case” He replied “Well you shouldn’t have such a big case mate”  My resonse was rapier like ‘Well I was due to travel with Eurostar – you don’t think I would travel with P&O unless it was the very last resort, do you?”

Ha! There is something very satisfying about delivering a verbal knockout blow, and he looked visibly stunned, did our ”Surly of Dover”

So there were no buses and no taxis. We had just forty five minutes before the last train left for London, and Joe suggested we walked. It was two and a half miles to the station, it was now minus 10 C, and all the roads and paths were covered in ice. We had no choice, and I can tell you that my case, laden with Christmas presents, weighed twice as much after each mile. Joe was brilliant and split carrying duties with me – in fact, I think he managed at least 70% of the task.

We finally arrived home at 2.30am – fourteen hours to travel 250 miles!

So, P&O, you had an opportunity to stand up, to make a difference, to show you care? You failed miserably.

This is a quote from their website: “When you think of cross channel ferries, you think P&O.” Absolutely – it will take me a long time to forget!

No leadership, no organisation ………. you can be sure that I will never ever travel with you again, and I suspect hundreds, if not thousand of people feel the same as I do.

It is said that we Brits do not like to complain, but rather we vote with our feet. We also tell six other people of our experiences. Well now that I can just about feel my feet again – I will most certainly vote with them, and today, I didn’t just tell six people, I told a few thousand!

Next week, I’ll present you with a contrasting tale – why Eurostar enjoy such strong customer loyalty, despite the events over Christmas. They are indeed a shining beacon, in a sea (Channel) of  third-world like customer service.

Tomorrow: Normal service resumes, and I will have some complimentary places for you to attend two great events taking place next week.

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