It’s time to face a sad truth - circling
the globe in a bright shiny jet just isn’t the fun it used to be.
I’m harking back to the wonder days
of the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s when boarding an aeroplane was like taking flight to
the moon: When air travel and airports
were chock full of romance and adventure. When it was hard to know which
exerted the stronger pull, the destination or the mode of transport.
Travel to foreign places may have
been the highlight, but for me the thrill and romance of travel always began pre
flight when I rolled up at Brisbane’s Eagle Farm Airport.
OK! So what is so different now in
2015, to the way it used to be - let’s say ten, fifteen or even more years ago?
~
Actually think back to the 1950’s
when I was a teenager working for Queensland Air Lines in Brisbane.
The sign below says it all: There was just a wire fence to separate
onlookers from the tarmac. Essentially intending
passengers were still master of their fate and requests to take care were made
in politely non legal terms.
The airport itself was a collection
of tin roofed hangars fronting wide open spaces of desolate land where suburbia
had yet to intrude.
On boarding QAL’S DC3 relic from the
war years and pulling your way like a mountain goat to the front of the plane you
found you were one of no more than 21 or so passengers with a single Hostie to
care for your needs. The ratio of both
passengers and attendants increased only marginally with the introduction of
the bigger planes, the ones that sported a level playing field and in some
cases more engines than two.
~
Today’s Jumbo
Airbus in an economy setup, I’m told, can seat up to 800 passengers with roughly
one flight attendant to every 50 passengers, while the airspeed of commercial
aircraft has gone from a giddy 65 mph in halcyon days of 1914 to a possible 559
mph cruising speed for today’s humungous Boeing jets.
The
high flying world has indeed changed.
But while the planes of today have
grown so dramatically in size, their interior and mechanics modernised to the
ultimate degree, has the paying public been likewise pampered by the dictators
of government regulation and the architects of space and crowd control?
Not really.
It seems the rule of financial thumb
these days is to squeeze the maximum number of bodies into the smallest
possible space while making sure you put them through every possible bureaucratic
hoop beforehand.
International travellers of today
need to sharpen their wits if they are going to arrive at journey’s end in a relaxed
and joyful mood.
So what helpful advice could the
travel savvy of today offer a first time passenger?
~
FOR A START LET’S LOOK AT AIRPORTS.
Along with the planes themselves,
airports and their boarding facilities have grown like topsy. Making your way
through the labyrinth of halls and concourses is a marathon effort.
First off one should really invest in
a comfy pair of walking shoes. Of course
they will come in handy when you arrive at your holiday destination but chances
are you will need them most at the airport before you board your flight: In
some cases it takes longer to walk through a metropolitan airport than it does
to fly to your destination.
No kidding.
Just getting from the book in desk to
the departure lounge could easily wear out a trusty pair of Reeboks.
~
STEPPING FOOT ON THE AIRPORT PROPER
In itself the initial arrival by car
to the airport concourse can be a mind blowing and pocket emptying experience.
Like a vigilant boy scout Be Prepared
to leap out of your cab, family driven car, or bus without making the mistake
of dilly dallying at the kerb side.
Hefty fines are liable for those who
blithely leave their vehicle standing or worse bereft of driver. Gone are the
days of rellies and friends crying copious tears as you prepare to board your
flight: It’s now a case of swiftly dumping
the intending passenger and luggage on the foot path and letting them fend for
themselves. Stiff cheddar if they are
old or infirm.
~
HAULING YOUR SUITCASES TO THE CHECK
IN DESK.
Suitcases these days come with little
wheels of their own, and if you’re brave enough to be travelling light then you
won’t need the following advice.
However if like me you’re loaded down
with the maximum luggage allowance then you will need a trolley to safely make
the journey from drop off point to check in.
In many airports you will require a
shiny little gold coin in order to free a luggage trolley from locked in
cousins. Yes the same little coins you
never manage to locate when you’re in a hurry or in a tizz. Always keep a couple in a handy easily
accessible pocket.
~
CHECKING IN YOUR LUGGAGE
This is the physically exhausting
part. It starts with the Weighing of Luggage.
I’m assuming you’re absolutely confident
your suitcase weighs the prescribed number of kgs. After all, no one wants to
face the embarrassment of airing clean linen in public as they frantically
ditch unnecessary items.
No
matter that I‘m absolutely sure my bags will pass muster, at this point I still
hold my breath. OK, so these days I do
pack the absolute max in relation to allotted
weight. Hey! I’ve got a daughter living
overseas now and her wish list from home fills every spare inch … and weighs a
ton.
Mmnnn… Yes, this is the hard
part. Ever tried lifting your HEAVY
suitcase, in the first instance from car boot onto a trolley, and then from the
trolley onto the weigh in machine?
Don’t be a smartie pants; I know you’re
a youngster; but I’m approaching senility and there has to be a better way to
maybe slide or wheel the suitcases into position. Push button elevation perhaps? Think about it QANTAS.
~
SURVIVING AIRPORT BUREAUCRACY
But it’s not just the gigantic size
of these departure points nor the initial checking in that starts the drum roll
of discontent in my stomach. It’s the
one sided battle with bureaucracy.
We’re still in the limbo part of the
Airport and the next beef is Immigration.
Whoever invented that hellish meandering turn style maze where everyone
is banked up in never ending zig zag queues needs their bottoms spanked…
especially when three or more flights are due soon to depart simultaneously and
a thousand or more people are banking up in the aisles staring daggers at the
half dozen or so officers safely behind their cubicles checking each passport
matches its owner’s mug shot.
A free
flight to an imaginary destination for the wiz kid who dreams up a better system.
Still in the Airport, you haven’t
progressed very far and the next obstacle is Customs… the point where you may
or may not be asked to remove your shoes.
Actually you’re odds on to score that particular partial body search if
you happen to be wearing lace ups and running late for the flight.
You may even be lucky enough to score
either the full Monty hand luggage search or even the Explosives Test. I’ve managed all three on the one boarding. It depends on how suspiciously odd you appear
to be. A doddery grey haired appearance apparently doesn’t help.
Customs is also the point where
you’re more than likely to be parted from your brand new ‘you beaut’ bottle of expensive perfume or ‘after shave’ or ‘shampoo’: Unless of course you’ve managed to purchase
or decant these items into a mini size.
Be advised – buy cheap in the first place then losing the lot won’t be
so painful.
~
WAITING TO BOARD
Now you’ve finally reached the airport’s
boarding level and identified your departure lounge. The check in staff haven’t arrived yet, but
be prepared for when they do. Their
arrival will trigger a massive lunge for the head of the queue. I have a word of advice. Sit tight!
Do not move. Why stand in that cut
throat line-up waiting your turn to rush down the landing ramp with everyone
else hot on your heels.
The plane isn’t about to leave
without you.
Sit back and enjoy the reasonably
comfy lounge chairs while you can; you’ll miss their size and soft padding once
you’re on board.
~
Now we’re actually ON BOARD the plane.
Wait a mo! I’ve not mentioned your assigned
seating. Choosing the right seat can make or break your
journey. Let me rephrase that; being assigned the best seat will make or break any happy flying experience.
These days there is a plethora of
seating description: First Class, Business Class, Preferential Economy and finally
Economy. (That’s another word for cattle class.)
Your personal air space diminishes
considerably with each rung down the ladder.
I’m assuming that like me you’re not
a movie star or famous model; you don’t rub shoulders with the rich and elite,
so the chances are your rear end won’t be comfortably ensconced in either First
or Business.
On one airline at least you can pre-buy
your way into the economy seat of your choice.
You need more leg room, desperately must have a seat by the escape
hatch; crave a window seat? Stiff
cheddar: They are as scarce as hen’s
teeth.
Best bite the bullet and jump in early. They disappear fast.
One place you don’t want to be is in
the middle of the four abreast centre rows where a midnight exit to the loo
means disturbing or climbing over at least two sleeping bodies.
Arriving early at the check in desk isn’t
a shoe in for scoring the next best seat in the house, but it can sometimes help
avoid pernickety little nightmares.
~
BACK TO THE STAMPEDE OF EAGER BEAVERS
HELL BENT ON GETTING ABOARD NOW!
I’ve advised you to settle back and
join the end of the queue but maybe that’s not such a good idea!
‘Cos, and wouldn’t you know it… there’s
always a Hurley.
If by now you’ve taken my advice and
sauntered leisurely aboard in the wake of everyone else; and you’ve reached your
numbered and allocated seat then you’ve unhappily discovered the one pitfall in
being the last to board.
All the available space in the
overhead locker above your seat has completely disappeared.
Airline companies have strict size
rules regarding permissible carry on items, some even charge extra per item,
yet I’m constantly amazed at the plethora of bulky back packs, maxi size brief
cases and last minute shopping that is shoved and pushed into those small
caverns running the length of aircraft aisles.
On one memorable Indian airline,
admittedly back when Adam was a boy, I even saw a smallish slim line
refrigerator manhandled onto a plane where it sat for the next hour slap bang
in the middle of the aisle; and on the same flight saw a generous sized 12 year
old sitting on her father’s lap for the entire journey from Singapore to Delhi.
These days, strict regulations put a
stop to most flying rorts but a risk you run in being the last on board is
seeing your carry on being shunted the entire length and breadth of the
aircraft before finally finding a home some seats away from you.
~
WHICH BRINGS ME TO ANOTHER
DIFFICULTY.
HOISTING YOUR CARRY BAG ALOFT.
I won’t go into the difficulties of
senile old ladies trying to lift heavy weights above their heads but I will offer
thanks to the many young and not so young people who sprang so willingly to my
aid on my latest South American excursion.
~
AIRLINE FOOD.
Aircraft catering is another subject
that deserves mention. I for one adore
the compact little trays with their mini version of a three course meal.
While some companies now provide basic snacks
as an optional paid extra I’m happy to advise the Qantas Lan Chile shared route
Australia to Santiago lays on a never ending array of complimentary taste
tempters to please anyone’s palate.
~
AIRCRAFT LOO.
Aircraft toilets are yet another pain
in the butt when it comes to long distance travel.
A bean counter somewhere in the
design section of today’s modern jumbo size aircraft has decreed the number and
size of loo’s necessary per capita of bodies and arrived at a most
unsatisfactory equation not to mention inadequate swing room within.
With obesity on the increase I find
it almost unbelievable some can actually fit inside these mini sized cubicles.
Contrary to medical advice I suggest
flying passengers curb their intake of fluids or at least not wait until the
very last minute to make that dash otherwise they will find themselves at the jittery
end of a very long slow moving queue.
~
ANOTHER BEEF ABOUT AIRLINE TOILETS.
In days of old they were kept in fairly
pristine condition. No doubt junior
staff back then were handed the unenviable job of giving the littlest rooms a
bit of inflight spit and polish. I can
only imagine today’s intake of cabin staff find it beyond their job description
to clean up the mess today’s public blithely leave behind them.
The problem, I fear, lies with the
potty training of today’s flying youth, both manners and neatness have gone
sadly down the gurgler.
~
JOURNEY’S END – ALMOST.
At last you are nearing your
destination. Those of you with the
prized window seats are keenly watching the plane’s descent through the clouds.
In a moment your aircraft will land, taxi up to the landing bay and not long
after your captain’s voice will thank you for making the journey with Qantas,
Lan Chile, Emirates, British Air, Cathay Pacific, Air France…the list of
probable’s is endless.
That will be the signal for every
single passenger to leap to their feet, grab their hand luggage and promptly
and impatiently clog the aisles as they wait for those favoured passengers in
First Class to make their leisurely way off the aircraft.
Personally at this point, unless I
have a pending connection with another aircraft, I just sit tight and wait
until the end of the long queue is almost out of sight. And then, and only then I make my exit.
Why rush. Assuming all the impatient folk ahead of me
are first time flyers I’m guessing they’re blissfully unaware the queues at this
foreign country’s Immigration will be just as lengthy as the ones they
experienced at home, the ensuing luggage carousels will be tardy, growing anxiety will turn to panic.
In any case Murphy’s Law will dictate
your brand new wheeled suitcase complete with identifying coloured ribbon or
fancy logo is the last one off; and the odds are the ensuing session with foreign
Customs officers will be at best unpredictable.
So why hurry?
~
On the bright side the hardest part
is over.
You have successfully made your
maiden flight and you’re looking forward to the next few weeks, maybe even
months in your overseas country of choice.
You will take numerous photographs, meet fabulous people, taste amazing
food, write cryptic messages in your note book that will be almost impossible
to decipher once home; perhaps even suffer a tinge of home sickness. In between all this and depending on age and
circumstance you will meet members of the opposite sex who will appear rather
attractive.
I can offer no advice on that last
situation. You’re on your own.
~
Eventually and all too soon the Holiday is over.
You’re probably sunburned or just
plain tuckered out. What’s more
important is the certain fact that by now you’re probably broke; suffering
nightmares just thinking about the depleted bank account, the swollen credit
card.
A horrid thought! But ahead lurks just one more nightmare…
You now face that long, long flight
in reverse.
Home! Ahead of you at journey’s end await
the delights of local Immigration and Customs and even more long… long queues.
Believe me, even with years of
experience it doesn’t get any easier… though I can promise with time the
difficult memories do fade.
Either that or I’m a glutton for
punishment.
Bon Voyage! Happy Flying!
~~~~
Robyn
Mortimer ©2015-02-16
