On camaraderie

‘We’re all working together; that’s the secret.’ – Sam Walton.

I’ve noticed fairly frequently when I travel and something goes wrong (be it a delayed commuter train into London or a flight circling Ulaan Bator for an hour because it can’t land due to high winds) that people invariably become more sociable.

Those who studiously avoided making eye contact when boarding the 8.45am service into London now look up, sigh and roll eyes at one another. A few might even exchange some words, bemoaning the ever increasing problems with the service and the new hike in prices, despite the continuous issues. The feeling in the carriage swells to mutual dislike aimed towards a much attested train line and mounting impatience as the delay increases.

Likewise, on board the flight bound for Ulaan Bator, as passengers became frustrated by the never-ending circles, there was bonding despite language barriers. Having befriended the physiotherapist of the Indian Wrestling Team who was sitting next to me, I scored an excellent hand massage which helped calm my frazzled nerves (I hate flying) before our flight was eventually turned back to China to refuel. Three hours after that, and almost twelve hours after my intended arrival time, I landed in Mongolia to start my stay there.

It’s almost as if, in times of travel crisis or difficulty, people turn to one another, stranger or not, and join forces. There is an ‘we’re all in this together’ attitude and it invariably brings out the best and worst in people, depending on stress levels and personality. Myself? I tend to try to look on the bright side when faced with these impossible travel situations. In my opinion, there’s no point getting worked up and angry about something beyond my control, so I would prefer to make light, have a joke, keep things positive and hope against hope that everything will be resolved soon!

A Journey From Brussels

The train slowed and came to a stop between two high grassy banks, which obscured the views across the flat Belgian farmland beyond. The silence that followed after the rhythmic click of the wheels on rails died away was loud and ringing. I glanced up from my phone, out of the window, wondering absently why we’d come to a halt. Was the Eurostar meant to make unscheduled stops in the middle of nowhere? Shrugging to myself, I returned to my phone, assuming that the train would get going again in a minute or two.

Half an hour later, following a short intercom announcement warning of what was to come, the lights went out as the electric on board the train was switched off. The air con was turned off, and the carriage was plunged into a melancholy gloom, both atmospherically and literally. A turned around in her seat in front of me and rolled her eyes in my direction. Train crew were walking up and down the carriage intermittently, trying to give us information as to why we were still stationary, but no one really seemed to know what was causing the delay. Along with our fellow passengers, we were taking it in our stride. Now, with the intercom out, we would be relying on the crew to come and tell us when they knew more.

‘I’m going to go and see what is on offer in the restaurant carriage,’ I said, getting up, ‘Want anything?’

After A had put in her order, I walked the length of the train to find the carriage serving drinks and snacks. Passing through each compartment, I found more passengers dealing with the hold-up in different ways. One man had fallen asleep, sprawled across two seats; a group who’d obviously been in Brussels on business were still working at their table, papers strewn across the top haphazardly; parents with children were finding ingenious ways to entertain them; other individuals stopped staff to ask questions and try to glean more information.

‘We’ve heard there was a fire on the train in front of us…’

‘Do you have any idea when we might be moving again?’

‘We’re waiting for the electricity to be switched back on…’

I bought soft drinks and chocolate and made my way back, retracing my steps. It felt like we were all in this together, staff and passengers alike, and the usual social boundaries between customer and employee had been blurred. I helped one member of staff prop open a door between two carriages for easier access. Another passenger was handing out glow sticks to help a crew member. A member of staff leant a passenger her mobile phone so that she could call the person who was meeting her in London and inform him of the delay. There was no anger or irritation, just people helping each other out, making jokes to lighten the mood and groaning at the impossible situation we were in.

Two hours later, the power finally came back on to a round of applause in our carriage. As the light began to fade outside, our train headed back to Brussels where it stood, again, for another hour or so before we were given the all-clear to go back on the high-speed line to Lille. As the announcement was made, first in French, I glanced hopefully at the man sitting behind me, who spoke the language. He smiled, gave us the thumbs up, and we sighed with relief. By the time they got round to informing us in English, the train was already moving.

The woman who made the announcements on the way back to the UK joked about the situation, offered her sincerest apologies for the delay and informed us that we would be compensated for the disruption. When she made light, we smiled ruefully, just grateful to finally be beyond Lille and heading home.

7.15pm, St Pancras. Five hours and ten minutes after our scheduled arrival time.

We stepped onto the platform and joined the throngs of people going their separate ways, to London and beyond. We were all strangers again, but just for that brief time, we’d been in a situation together that had been beyond anyone’s control. There had been an air of camaraderie on board, amongst staff and passengers alike. That feeling you get when you spend many hours with strangers and something happens that no one expected and you’re all in it together.

NB: For the record, the staff on our Eurostar service were pretty great and handled the situation well, despite everything! Super professional, keeping the mood as light as possible throughout and the note of relief on the woman’s voice when she announced that we’d finally made it to St Pancras made everyone laugh.