16 minutes from Ebbsfleet to St Pancras by Javelin

This morning I made a historic journey.
This was not a voyage of discovery. Rather it was the first domestic rail journey on the High Speed One line connecting Ashford, Ebbsfleet and St Pancras.

My journey time from Ebbsfleet to St Pancras was 16 minutes - that's actually one minute faster than the advertised 17 minutes - but let's not split hairs.

Here's a blow by blow account of the journey.

6:15 am
I am awoken to the sound of an iPhone, amplified by a Logitech speaker. This is the time I would normally be getting up if I were to catch the 7am train from Gravesend. Assuming, that is, that all I need to do is roll out of bed, get dressed, brush my teeth and dash out the door. Anything more complex in my morning routine is liable to go wrong, so I try to keep it simple.
I could have had a lie in today, but I wanted to set off early for two reasons: first, I wanted to keep my options open - what if I couldn't get on the train for some reason? I should still have time to get to Gravesend or nearby Northfleet stations. Secondly, I wanted to be on the first train and that meant being at Ebbsfleet before 7:08am. For the sake of less than an hour I have the chance to make history!

6:30 am
I leave the house. I have decided to walk to the Fastrack bus stop with busses to Ebbsfleet station every ten minutes. I'm not sure how long it will take to walk there, but I suspect about ten minutes. It's probably a five minute bus-ride, so I allow 25 minutes. That gives me 13 minutes at the station to work everything out. In spite of living less than two miles from the station this will be my first time there.


6:40 am
I have arrived at the bus-stop. My ten minute estimate was spot on. The stop itself is clean and neat, and the seats almost comfortable. The route along this road is newly established. I remember they were still building the bus lanes here just a couple of years ago.
As I arrived I encountered an automated ticket machine. Deciding to keep my options open I just buy a single ticket. It costs £1, which I just about have in change. I'll need to remember to keep few pound coins handy if I take this route often.

6:43 am
I only have to wait three minutes before the bus comes into view. Like the stop, the bus is clean, neat and new. The Fastrack service serves Gravesend, Ebbsfleet and Bluewater, then on to Dartford via Darent Valley Hospital. It drives through the heart of a critical section of the Thames Gateway regeneration area.

6:48 am
Boarding the bus and making our way to Ebbsfleet International Station is only another five minutes. Add that up. I left the house eighteen minutes ago and I'm already at the gateway to high-speed travel to europe and central london. This is probably a good point to say that I'm selling my house.

I wasn't too sure at first where I was meant to go. As I said, I've never been to this station before. Was there a separate entrance for the domestic passengers?
No. Apparently we all go in through the same entrance.
The building, at least from the entrance, is distinctly modern looking. This should not be any surprise, but it does make for a striking contrast when you compare it against the traditional crumbling affairs we have grown used to in the UK.

 
 

Inside the theme continues. Clean, minimalist lines with large, bright, highly polished surfaces, but with just enough depth as to avoid feeling sterile and unwelcoming. It has the feel of a small, modern, yet cosy, airport.

I bet you didn't expect to see the words "cosy" and "airport" together in the same sentence. But perhaps the airport overtones should not be surprising either, since this is the station that has been serving the international routes for some time now.

I'm very early. I had to allow plenty of time for the unknown. In future I can cut it slightly finer to reclaim more valuable minutes back from my commute. But now I have time to buy a sandwich. The station shop is nothing extraordinary, but it's large, bright, cleanliness is a refreshing contrast to the cramped, grimy, shadows of the "shop" at Gravesend station, which I would frequently pop into, but rarely find anything worth actually buying. Here they have egg and bacon sandwiches.

With that purchase, accompanied by a bottle of water, I walk just a few more meters along to the ticket office. There are also ticket machines, but since I have time, there are no queues, and I may have questions I don't use them.
I ask for a weekly season ticket. For the last six weeks I have been traveling daily from Gravesend station, but for various reasons have been buying daily tickets. The woman at the counter asks for a photo-card. Apparently you need a passport-sized photo in order to buy a weekly season ticket. I don't have one, so I have to get a daily ticket after all. I need to remember to get a photo for next week. The return ticket is £24.20.

I'm on my way again. A few meters more and I'm at the top of the escalators down to the platform. Looking down I am reminded very much of the platforms for the trains that serve Copenhagen Airport. As I descend to the platform that resemblance is reinforced. I suppose the platform could be described as looking very "European", but since I am particularly familiar with Copenhagen, this is the impression that stands out in my mind. The ensemble of large, pale, concrete slabs, gleaming metal and ice-blue frosted glass against a counterpoint of surprisingly thin-looking tracks bedded in a sea of clean, grey, gravel, certainly looks futuristic in a British setting. And, yes, I said that even the gravel looks clean. Even the overhead cables are paced by the long sweeping lines of the metallic shelters so that they not only look neat, but they help to elongate the perspective of the tracks as they disappear to a vanishing point that will soon be subjugated by those that now stand in awe of it.



On the other hand it's just a station.

There are already a handful of other passengers on the platform. It's still early, but I expected more. Now seems like a good time to eat my sandwich. I sit under one of the shelters and note that the wooden seats are quite comfortable. Another contrast to Gravesend, which has no seats at all.
I don't quite finish the sandwich and it's at this point that I look around and realise there are no bins on the platform (at least none that I can see). I'm not overly surprised, but am slightly irritated as it means I now have to put the half-finished sandwich, in it's packaging, into my laptop bag.

Getting up and walking around I then see two station staffers walking up the platform in my direction. As they pass each passenger they say a few words and the passenger begins to walk down the platform in the opposite direction. Something is up.
As they get closer I hear one of them explain that the front three coaches of the train are already full with passengers from Ashford, but there is plenty of room further back, so it's best to move down the platform.

Ok. That makes sense. Nice of them to have noted this and let us know. Only a few minutes before the train is due now.

7:08 am
The train has come into view and is snaking its way to the platform. It's very small - probably six coaches or so. Again, this makes sense. I had expected more people here for this first trip, but evidently the operators had more accurately predicted a smaller turn-out during this preview schedule - at least initially. It will be interesting to see if and how those figures change, and whether they will be adding extra carriages pro-actively.

The train has the distinctive long, tapered, nose that we are familiar with from the international trains, and the French TGVs (which these are modeled after). The carriages are a deep azure with a black, dithered, strip at the height of the windows. This dark, serious looking, facade is punctuated by the light, indigo, doors. The overall impression is one of high-energy, which I suppose is appropriate. I don't hate it, but I'm not sure I like it either.


Boarding the train we are greeted by comfortable, blue cushioned seats, with generous leg-room and a number of tabled sections. There is a good feeling of space all-round. By the doors are luggage racks. Overall the look is reminiscent of the "Express" trains that serve the London airports - but nicer. Again, I am also reminded of the intercity trains that speed across Denmark. I haven't travelled on an intercity train in the UK for some years, so I can't really compare.

I think the interior is best summed up if I say that I'd pay the extra fare just for that alone! It's just typical that the first time I have use of a train with the space (and a table!) for working on a laptop, my journey time is so short it's barely worth getting it out! We'll see if this impression lasts as more people use the service and sitting room becomes scarce.

The train starts up. It sounds like a milk-float that's had a few modifications to make it run quietly. This is not a noisy train. Very quickly we pick up some speed. Even before I've had a chance to launch the camera app on my iPhone we're into the tunnel that runs under the Thames. As we emerge the other side and begin the journey across the bleak, industrial wastelands of Thurrock and Grays, I think about how long it would have taken me to drive this far already - probably about half and hour assuming no traffic!

We seem to be up to full speed now. Still the low level of noise is amazing. There is certainly no clattering of the tracks.




Only a minute or two more and we're into another tunnel. We emerge briefly just once before a third tunnel takes us most of the way to St Pancras. For the last leg of the journey we pass some marshland with some development work in progress to one side. In the distance some of the few high-rise buildings that London has are in view, and the Telecom Tower is clearly visible. As we near the rather tight bend for our final approach the distinctive outline of the former Midland Grand Hotel and the Clock tower are discernible.









Finally we roll into the station, a twin of the same design ethic we saw at Ebbsfleet. The train slows to a gradual halt and the air seems still, as if a million people are waiting but no-one is there. The platform is empty. This has an odd feel after the trains into Charing Cross or London Bridge, with hundreds of passengers clamouring to board even before you have get off yourself.

7:24 am
As we get off we see that there are people on the platform. A handful of guards and other staff, of course. But also a number of media people, here to capture the auspicious moment that my fellow, historic, travelers and I arrive in London after the first high-speed domestic train journey in the UK. And to make that occasion all the more momentous, we are a minute early!