I don't know if it was Euston Station in particular or BritRail terminals in general, but this one was quite bizarre. There was a large open area when you enter the station. We were early and had first class tickets (actually very reasonably priced), so we could wait in the "First Class Lounge" which happened to be on the second floor accessible by stairway. With all our luggage. Yeah, right.
There was a small "lift" to the side which has to be one of the weirdest contraptions I have ever seen. You press a button and a large door opens into a vesibule area. Then press the lift button. It too has a large door that swings into the vestibule. So you're doing this little dance around doors swinging at you in this little 4x6 room, as well as anyone who happens to be exiting the lift while you're trying to get on.
The first class lounge was a room with tables and chairs, a tea and coffe machine and a screen with the train departures listed. We waited a bit, but it was getting close to our train time and the platform still hadn't been posted on the screen, so we headed back down (doing the same little elevator dance to get back to the main floor).
In the large main area, with no seating, there were large screens up near the ceiling, each one had a departing train and it's stops listed. There were about 12 screens in all and as one train left, they marched along to the left, more trains being added on at the end.
The thing was, they didn't announce a platform number until the train was ready to board so everyone was standing around staring up at the screens, waiting, with no place to sit.
Then, 10 minutes before departure, they announce the platform and a third of the herd breaks off and rushes town the ramp to the platform, bottlenecking at the bottom as there were four guys checking tickets. Push through and mad dash for the train. Find a seat marked "Available" if you don't have a reserved seat. And many people didn't have reserved seats because you can buy open tickets and get on whatever train to your destination you please.
We found some available seats, but it turns out, they were having a problem with there seat reservation system and ALL seats were marked available. Free for all in first class. And the train was so packed, people were sitting on the floor.
We're lucky we found seats. No one was giving up their seat willingly, as proven by several arguments about who reserved what seat, and I could just see my elderly parents trying to sit on the floor of the train vestibule.
Once we got to Glasgow, we were supposed to pick up our rental car. Turns out, as it was a bank holiday, the rental company was closed. Didn't stop them from making the reservation. And, the pick up just outside the train station, didn't exist. Yep. You read that right. IT DIDN'T EXIST.
We asked a passing cop where the rental place was, but he had no idea. Very nice guy, cute too, and he tried to be helpful. While he was trying to be helpful, I kept stepping to his left because he had a camera attached to the right side of his hat. He kept turning to face me and I'd step again to the side again. I guess this is the trip for dancing. I had visions of being the stupid american tourists on an episode of "Glasgow Cops."
He was finally able to make himself useful by showing us where the taxi queue was and we took a cab to the hotel. I was so tired I was physically nauseated. I skipped dinner and was asleep by six.
Aaaaand awake again by nine. I was having fantasies about my bottle of NyQuill tucked in my medicine cabinet back home. I never did get back to sleep that night. Three hours. That was my limit for sleep aparently.
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