Friday, July 8, 2011

I'm very reasonable - Fly Me!

What can you say about flying Low Fare? 

George and I recently experienced a Low Fares Airline for an intense session of ricocheting between France, Ireland, England and back again, and… well... it's very good In Parts.

It was certainly friendly and it was certainly jolly cheap… as long as you kept your wits about you and just said NO to everything except the seat.

Their first cunning plot was to refuse George’s tiny case at check-in, because it has an avant-garde lump that prevented it from snuggling all the way down into the gauge.   “It’ll have to go in the hold sir – 35euros please”.  (About twelve times the price of the flight).

Undaunted, George dashed back to the car, repacked everything into a supermarket carrier bag, and used that for the whole four-day trip.  A jaunty green, strong and remarkably practical...  In fact, I may use one next time too – who needs stuff neatly folded?

Then it was with a merry grimace that they bustled us through metal detecting, belt&shoe collecting and baggage poking-with-a-big-stick.  

Following that embarrassing procedure you can, if your elbows are determinedly pointy enough, nab a chair for the interminable Departure Containment Area wait, before scuttling across the tarmac and up the rickety ladder to the plane to be counted.

If you’re travelling Not Alone, there follows a tense moment finding seats Together that aren’t over the wing, outside the loo, or in front of the children from hell.  You then open the overhead locker, find it bursting with everyone else’s hand luggage because you’re not the only ones saving 35euros…  So you squish your case under your feet and use your knees as a book rest.  Then you relax and take note of the safety demo…

But Quick! – “it’s Time to start thinking about your first refreshing drink!” (They insist gaily).   "Purple90 – it refreshes your palate; quenches your thirst and helps you relax – Purple90 – the perfect drink!"  I have no idea whether it does all that or what it tastes like – for one thing I was still inwardly chanting Just Say NO, and for another I tend to lose my balance on the turbulent route to the loo, so do my best to avoid it.

I was, however, sorely tempted to take up smoking their “Smokeless Cigarettes…  they could change your life!  As well as win you prizes and help children’s charities!”  Blimey – what the hell’s in them instead of smoke?

Another must-do was Buy the inflight Scratch Cards – “at a very special offer of six for two!”  (Two what…)?   Who needs an onflight  film when there's all this stuff to concentrate on?

As I mentioned, our trip was many-flighted, but on the final one, I was sitting next to a woman who bought packaging for the local viagra factory (how do people find these exciting jobs?).  She didn’t like flying and was nervous before takeoff, so I was taking her mind off it with Jolly Chitchat.

Unusually, the plane launched like a moon rocket with added lurching, and I realised my head was going to come Off.  “Shit!” I yelled inadvertently, clutching the seat in front and trying not to vomit.  The woman’s smile was wan.

She bravely comforted me, though, when we came in to land, accompanied by a splendid fanfare Duddleunh dunh daaaah!  Or something quite like this (whoever Ryanair is...) :-



which is so daft, it brings everyone together into a great grinning blob!

And then - I'm not saying precisely where - but they'd counted us all on, and they counted us all off again. 
But we'll be back, and they know it!

18 comments:

Canary Islander said...

Brilliant blog!
Our favourite airline to and from Tenerife was GB Airways (part of BA), which still had a air of 1960's gentility about it. Then they were bought by EasyJet, but the comfy planes stayed the same.

The main difference with EasyJet is "Speedy-boarding", which involves paying extra for the dubious benefit of joining a wave of bag-swinging infantry in an unseemly scramble to be the first on board.

Oh, for the good old days, when one could sit in one's reserved seat in economy class, gazing wistfully at the sign saying "business class", and could happily dream of the delights of "first-class" only a few more paces further on...
:-)

Dolores Doolittle said...

Thank you loads, CI!

I remember on a flight to Aus 20 years ago, being taken through the hallowed curtain to Business Class by a fella who Had the Ticket!

I think I passed a pleasant hour or so there, but oh! for a glimpse of a First Class Ticket-fella experience!

Canary Islander said...

I've been first-class on a Jumbo from New York to London!

Three of us were delayed by a mad NY taxi driver (that's another story) who couldn't find his way to the airport without stopping on the freeway and flagging down a helpful truck driver. We arrived at check-in 5 minutes before take-off. Our business-class seats had been taken by standby-passengers, but amazingly, the check-in chap had a walkie-talkie and persuaded the pilot to delay by enough time for us to board (we only had hand luggage).

The catch was this - the plane only had two first-class seats and one tourist class seat unoccupied. So we drew straws. My MD and I drew the long straws, and our poor director of finance drew the short straw.

First class was fan-dabby-dosey!!!!
We enjoyed a silver service three-course lunch, free drinks, nibbles, acres of legroom, sublimly deferrential flunky service...

Hours later, when the pilot announced an approach into Heathrow, I felt a pang of guilt for our poor colleague. So off I went to find him. A flunky was standing guard at the curtained doorway into the tourist class cabin. A look of absolute horror appeared on his face when I asked him if that was the way to Tourist class...
:-)

Canary Islander said...

PS I should have said "into the business class cabin....
:-)

Expat said...

Ryanair sounds dreadful. Is this the airline that was thinking about making passengers pay to go to the loo? But for short hops (a couple of hours)price trumps everything.

These days, for international flights, Virgin's my choice. BA cabin crews are always going on strike. Besides, on Virgin you never know if Richard Branson might pop in! And Virgin still serves actual meals.

Have you seen first class on the big planes recently? They're like something out of a movie about a flight to Mars. All these self contained individual modules that turn into beds.

Ah, I fondly remember the old days when smokers puffed away at the back of the plane, you had to pay for drinks, stewardesses pointedly ignored women with children...but the flights were ON TIME.

Canary Islander said...

Yippee, Expat!
Yes, I remember those days...
Glorious they were, when absolutely nobody knew when I'd popped in or not...
:-)

Dolores Doolittle said...

Yes, being a celebrity must be hard at times, CI...

Hi Expat - my mum was probably exuding all that smoke single-handedly!! but it brought her joy...

From both your enticing descriptions, i'm thinking that if we ever sell this house, we should blow it all on Long first-class flight!

CI - don't forget to tell us of the Mad NY Taxi Driver!

farming-frenchstyle said...

Booked my mum East Mids-Limoges for mid-August (daughter's wedding)back in April £132. My son rang and asked me to book two of them same route same time of year (same wedding)about two weeks ago. Told him it would probably cost an arm and leg. £155 for the two of them!!! If I had been brave would've left mum's booking until the last minute.

Canary Islander said...

I've just been reading about Ryanair prices for food and drink:

Crisps: £2.20 (26p in a supermarket).
Water: £3.00 (25p in a supermarket).

... and £2.50 for a cup of tea!

Ouch!
:-(

Dolores Doolittle said...

Hi f-f! It's such a gamble isn't it!

George often flies to the UK with the R-line, and books as soon as he has a date to get a seat for about tuppence! The prices then climb soaringly every day, but he's never tried a last-minute - the tickets for your son show it's worth hanging on sometimes!

Wonder if a Roulette-wheel type System could work for beating the odds...

Much Joy to all the family for your daughter's wedding!

Dolores Doolittle said...

Blimey CI! Glad I had that bottle made to fit snugly under armpit with handy long straw!
Crisps, I'm still working on...

Canary Islander said...

Great idea, Dolores!
Reminds me of the days before they banned fluids. A plastic water bottle filled with gin or vodka - looked just like water!
:-)

Canary Islander said...

Just remembered...the mad taxi driver...

Every now and then, when one least expects it, an eccentric character enters your life, turns it upside down, and then vanishes, never to be seen again. So it was with Mario.

I really don’t know anything about Mario apart from his outward appearance and mannerisms. He was an exceptionally small man, about 40 years old, wearing an old leather bomber jacket that made him look as wide as he was tall. He was hyperactive, ingratiating, had gold teeth, and was Italian.

We met him as we emerged from the arrivals hall at Newark NY Airport, when he sidled up to us and convinced us that the line of waiting taxis were there to rob us blind. “I, da famous Mario, I taka you for da halfa da costa!” he beamed as he guided us to his van.

I must say that the journey into Manhattan did seem rather long, because he kept on stopping at various places, including two gas stations and four or five cafes and bars. “I visita da friend to speaka da business” he cried as jumped out of the van at each stop. Then, three or four minutes later, he would reappear to drive us to his next rendezvous.

When we arrived at our hotel, he insisted he would pick us up two days later when we were due to fly back to England. “I, da famous Mario, I taka you for da halfa da costa!” he beamed as he drove off.

Two days later Mario was there, bang on time, in the hotel foyer to meet us as we checked out. As we climbed aboard his van we told him our flight was from JFK airport. This seemed to excite him. ”JFK? Jesus da F da K! I thinka ya wanna me taka you da Newark!

After what must have been at least 15 stops of the “I visita da friend to speaka da business” variety, it dawned on us that Mario was completely and utterly lost. He had no idea where the airport was. It was only after he’d stopped on the freeway and flagged down a passing truck, and paid the truck driver to lead us to the airport, that we finally arrived at JFK. And you already know the rest of the story...
:-)

Dolores Doolittle said...

Fabulously vivid, CI - one can picture da famous Mario perfectly! D'ya 'tinka da truck driver made it home in one piece-a?

Canary Islander said...

Just booked our taxi for when we land at Gatwick on Sunday. I wonder what nationality the driver is...

I love coincidences!
:-)

Dolores Doolittle said...

Crikey, CI - you're rushing internationally around at great speed at the moment!
It HAS to be Mario on Sunday!, sandwiched within multi-GPS'd Trucking convoy...

Merry Flying!

JW10 said...

First class blog, Dolores.

There are a few close relatives of mine who have never flown before. I try to tell them that a bit of turbulence makes the journey more exciting.
I've always flown economy class and am the loudest to cheer when the plane touches down.

Dolores Doolittle said...

Exceeding kind, JW, and jolly good to see you back!