Airline Travel Woes

If you ever want a complete and total feeling of unease, tension, fear and paranoia...and I am speaking of these emotions in their true and pure sense...then I can give you a formula that will do just that.

I was on holiday last week - I went to see Helen. Yay! If you don't live in a jar, then you know exactly where the problem with that lies. If you do happen to live in a jar, I'll fill you in.

I flew into England on Saturday, 05 August. We left on Sunday to Malaga, Spain where we would spend the next week. On Thursday evening, 10 August, Helen received a text message from Laura. (You can find her on both my and Helen's MySpace profiles)

I don't remember the exact wording of the short text, but it was something like "Terrorists taking over flights from England to US trying to blow them up over the Atlantic." Poor girl...she didn't want to spoil the holiday with bad news, but knew we ought to know.

Helen and I immediately switched on the TV to find BBC news broadcasting the story. Apparently there were over 10 flights, primarily American Airlines flights, from the UK to the US, that more than 20 terrorists were planning on blowing up over the Atlantic within a few days' time. Fortunately for all involved, British authorities had been following this plot for more than twelve months and stopped them from accomplishing this horrible deed.

That adds instant uunease into both helen and I though for obvious reasons. England...US...flights...'nuff said. But beyond that, I was actually flying with AA within days...to Chicago, the busiest Airport in the US. To me, it sounded like my flight was in jeopardy. I was scared, folks...honestly scared.

In addition, Helen and I were scheduled to fly back to England from Spain on Friday afternoon. We kept our ear to the news over the evening and checked on it Friday as well. Keeping in touch with Amy (also on MySpace profile) Helen was able to get information about our flight into Liverpool from Malaga, which went relatively routine.

Hand luggage was allowed in Spain sans liquids. Helen was told the Ribena she had in her bag had to be drank before we boarded the plane. However, it's interesting to note that nobody checked us to make sure that it had been done so. Helen could have easily smuggled Ribena back to the UK, and there was a woman sat across the aisle from us with a huge bottle of water.

So Spain - if you're listening - you may have beautifully landscaped mountains and valleys...your beaches may be hot, sandy, and set on picturesque waters...you may have history that rivals countries like the US in ways we can't imagine. But you know what, Spain? Your airport security sucks balls. Big time. And when you're a tourism hot-spot like you are, you can't afford to suck balls in anything you do.

Oh, and so long as I'm addressing inanimate landmasses...Gibraltar?...clean yoursef up, would you? You're abysmal.

Right...back to the story. Our flight into Liverpool went without incident unless you count the scally's (Americans, please pull out your Google and search "define:scally") in front of us that were piss drunk off their asses and makinig incredible amounts of noise for about the last 30 minutes of the flight. Loud laughter, shouting, bouncing around in their seats, you get the idea.

This same "family" of fine folks let their kids run wild in the airport...jumping up on equipment without repremand. Never mind.

So Amy picked us up from the airport, kind soul that she is, and even stopped at ASDA so we could pop in and pick up some dinner. (Americans, ASDA is a supermarket chain like A Meijer or Wal-Mart...actually owned by Wal-Mart) We got a microwave Lasagna and ate it picnic style on the living room floor whilst watching "Monster in Law". (Didn't get through more than 30-40 minutes of it, but it was actually funny)

Then came the flight home on Sunday. I had to fly out of Manchester early...about 10.30. We were up and out of the hotel by around 7am and it was none too early. We walked into Manchester International to a sea of people. The queues to the check-in counter, which are normally about a 15-20 minute wait (if that) were stretched as far as you could see and I was in line for something like an hour or more.

Lots more questions than usual...but all for a good cause, my own safety. I knew I was not allowed my electronics (No less than 4 at any time...PSP, DS, iPod and mobile phone) in my carry on luggage, and I wasn't allowed my typical litre of water either. So...knowing the flight would be boring as can be, I asked if I was allowed a book. Seems harmless enough, right?

"As of twenty minutes ago, yes.", came the reply. "Do you have the book with you now?" "Yes, right here in the front pouch of my bag to be checked." "Oh, well then you're a bit stuffed. We are only allowing books that a re purchased in the shoppes on the other side of security." Fair enough. So I got checked in, made it through security, and bought two books in the shoppe. (They were buy one get one 1/2 price!) So for £6.99 I bought Dan Brown's "Digital Fortress" and for £3.50 I got his "Deception Point". Or vise-versa, depending on how you look at it. ;-)

I began reading "Deception Point" in the waiting area near the gates whilst waiting for my flight, and got into the book. Realizing this flight may not be as boring as I thought, my spirits lifted ever-so-slightly. Then the flight got called.

I'm heading down the gangway towards the plane and they separated the women from the men. The men were taken aside, shoes removed, and a secondary pat-down was issued, just as when you first enter through security. The man checking me asked if I had purchased the books in the shoppe and when I confirmed that I had he asked for proof. I explained that as I had been given no receipt, I couldn't provide the proof he sought.

"I can't let you take them on the plane then, I'm sorry." I was upset, to be sure. My flight suddenly became extremely long and boring again. Never mind the fact that the man let me take my Toblerone sampler on with me...oh no. I can't have books.

So I'm sitting on the plane...fuming...knowing that my only source of entertainment for the next 8 hours is a pair of airline ear buds, 2 movies, one of which was mediocre, one of which was good but that I've seen countless times, and the same episodes of "Frasier" and "I Love Lucy" that I'd already seen on the way over to England. Yes...I was unhappy.

"Who did I take these books from?" came the call from the front of the cabin. I lifted my head. The man who took my books was walking down the aisle holding my books. I raised my hand and he brought them to me saying, "They've recanted...they've decided you can have them."

Sigh of relief...perhaps the flight wouldn't be so bad after all. Then the child started crying.

More to come.