Saturday, December 6, 2008
London
My cell phone alarm actually worked! I had only recently learned how to set it and I was thrilled when it woke me up on cue (I know this is not rocket science, but I am digitally challenged!). At 4. 30 am, I jumped out of bed, thrilled to be launching out on another new adventure. I had kept everything ready the previous evening. All I needed to do was add my sandwiches from the fridge into my backpack, wash, dress, slip a Thank You note for Tim and Barbara under their door and leave.
Just by chance, I glanced at my Easybus ticket that would take me to Stanstead airport from Victoria, when I discovered, to my horror, that my bus wasn't leaving at 6 am as I had thought but at 5. 30! Panic set in big time, but I took a deep breathy, calmed myself down and figured I still had ample time to get there if I left right away. So, I flew into the kitchen, retrieved my sandwiches, dressed in no time flat, slipped the Thank You card under my neighbor's door and was off.
The N8 (Night time) bus arrived almost as soon as I reached the bus stop. It was full of sleepy Friday might revelers or those just getting on for another day of work. With streets that were practically empty, we flew down them and I was at Victoria in less than 20 minutes. Another brisk walk took me to the Coach Station, five minutes later. I had worried that I would miss my bus only to discover that it hadn't arrived yet! My relief was palpable. A few minutes later, the coach arrived and I settled down into my seat and calmed myself down.
We arrived in Stanstead by 6. 45 am and since my flight wasn't leaving until 8. 15 am, you might think I had ample time to kill before I boarded, right? Wrong!
Ryanair personnel swooped down on me as soon as I entered and asked to see my ticket. You need to proceed to one of the self-service machines, they said. When I got there, the machine told me that I owed the airline 8 pounds for airport check-in. But I'm not even using a traffic assistant at a counter, I thought. Why am I paying 8 pounds? To use a self-service machine? Well, I had little choice in the matter. If I did not pay the airport check-in fee, I would not get a boarding card and without it, of course, I could not board the flight.
Now the reason I had to pay this 8 pounds at the airport was because I had opted for airport (instead of online) check-in when purchasing my ticket online. Only EU members are allowed to check in online. The rest of us need to use airport check-in facilities and, therefore, are charged this amount. It appears that we are entitled to a refund, but to obtain this, we need to write to Ryanair in Dublin providing them with our flight details. So the airline's policy is 'pay up first and request a refund later'. How idiotic is this? Isn't this discriminatory? And how productive is it to have personnel at the Dublin office process these refund requests? Perhaps Ryanair hopes to collect and not have to refund because, let's face it, how many passengers would go through the hassle of writing to the airline once their journey is done? Well, let me tell you, it made me more than determined to get every last pence of my 8 pounds back. I carefully preserved by receipt and the company will be hearing from me, you can be sure!!!
The lady then directed me to a Ticket Sales counter that had a queue of about 30 passengers waiting patiently in line. I joined in and made the awful discovery that there were only two elderly counter assistants, each of whom were taking about 15-20 minutes to process each passenger! At this rate, I thought, I am certain to miss my flight. When, eventually, I did get to the counter, a good 40 minutes later, the payment of my 4 pounds took just five minutes. I realized that the passengers before me had taken ages because they were actually purchasing tickets at the airport, a process that would take 15-20 minutes, I suppose.
So with my receipt in hand, I proceeded back to the check-in machines and got a boarding pass that informed me that boarding began at 7. 25 and closed at 7. 35! I had just ten minutes to board my aircraft! Yikkkez!
With no time to spare, I raced to the Security Lines and discovered that my recyclable, reusable water bottle (to which I happen to be deeply attached) was half full. I drank up all the water while waiting in line and placed the empty bottle back into my backpack. Still, my backpack beeped as it went through the X-ray machine. Oh darn, I thought, it's my cosmetics in my little 'train case'. Now having gone to Greece only two weeks ago and having carried the same cosmetics and not having had them beep when my bag passed through Security, I had not bothered to place my cosmetics in one of those plastic bags. This kept me open to the scrutiny of the most ferocious banshee I have ever seen.
She pulled me aside and started to go through every single item in my backpack. OK, I thought, there goes my flight. I will have to kiss goodbye right now to the thought of getting to Ireland! While these thoughts were going through my mind, she came upon my empty water bottle.
"You're not allowed to carry water on the flight", she informed me, brusquely.
"I'm not", I retorted."My bottle is empty".
She shook it violently and discovered a few drops in it. "There's still something in here", she said. "I'm going to have to take this away from you".
"Can I drink up the last two drops left in there?" I asked.
"NO, you cannot", she said, and firmly took the bottle away from me. Well, if I wasn't kissing my flight goodbye, I had just kissed my bottle away.
And then the ordeal began as she opened every item in my bag and shook it out and tested it with an instrument. She held my brolly away from her as if it were a bomb; she opened my camera case and tested the camera with a wand she held in her hand; she threw all of my cosmetics and toiletries into a small bag (including the ointment gell I was carrying as medication in case my feet caved in on me again). After she had left my bag in total disarray, she took my cosmetics and camera away and told me they had to be tested inside! What? Hadn't she done enough testing in my presence with her magic wand?
Besides, I was now left to pack my things and I threw them into my bag any which how. All the appeals I had made to her to hurry as I would miss my flight had fallen on deaf ears as she took her own sweet time going through everything with a fine comb. I was sweating bullets as I stood there and thought to myself, never again, am I going to give myself less than three hours once I arrive at the airport to the time I actually board a flight.
In a few minutes she was back, brusque and curt as ever. The days of courteous personnel are long gone, I thought, as I snatched my things, gave her the dirtiest looks of which my face was capable and raced off to my gate, not in the least expecting to be able to board the flight.
When I arrived there, I found that boarding was indeed in progress and that I would actually make it inside! So imagine my delight when I discovered that the bulkhead seat was still available though I was one of the last to board! I got the window and the ample leg room I wished for and though the flight was only an hour long, I relished the thought of these little comforts after the extraordinary ordeal that I had just survived.
Truly, I can remember a time, not too long ago, when flying for me was actually a pleasure to which I eagerly looked forward for days on end before being airborne. Today, I dread the thought of getting to an airport. The horrible procedures one has to go through before being permitted to board a flight has almost taken the excitement out of travel for me.
Next time I get to the Continent, I'm taking the Eurostar train across the Chunnel!!
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