I was born in 1959 and so grew up in the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s. Compared to today, it seems to me that travel was simpler in those days. My memories are of easy, enjoyable journeys. I feel the old simplicity of travel has been stolen or replaced by some other more terrible experience. Here I’ll try and explain how and why I feel this way.
William Blake once wrote “Great things happen when men and mountains meet.” Ralph Waldo Emerson said “Life is a journey not a destination.” And I personally love the quote “It feels good to be lost in the right direction” Some peoples journey’s seam easy. Take Wendy’s trip to Neverland in the book Peter Pan. All she had to do was take the Star second to the right and go straight on till morning. In comparison we have Odysseus’s journey from Hell. His journey is covered by the Odyssey written by Homer. The Odyssey was my first fling with terrible journey books. I got it in a pack of classics when I was a young boy, and spent a long time enjoying the pictures before I got around to the words. Odysseus fights in the Trojan war for ten years, then tries to go home. About ten years later, he actually gets there. I can sympathise, I’ve driven on the London ring road..
Along the way, Odysseus watches his guys get eaten by a Cyclops. Watches them get turned into swine, has a love affair with the woman who did the swine magic. Annoys the gods, refuses to listen to some women singing, then finally gets home to find a gang of drunk blokes trying to woo his long-suffering wife. All she wants to do is be left alone to sew a massive tapestry. It’s an utterly terrible journey, but Odysseus is rude to literally everybody he meets along the way, so maybe he deserves it. It’s hard to put your finger on..!
I am no Odysseus and I recall mixed, yet fond memories of me as a young boy traveling to Rhyl in Wales for our school summer holidays. This was six weeks living in a caravan just a stones throw from the beach and sea. Back in the days of the Sixty’s we had two modes of transport. The train, or Uncle Arthurs Zephyr 6 Car. The beauty of the Zephyr 6 was that it had a Bench type front seat. Which facilitated the easy loading of two families into the one car.
We managed to squeeze Uncle Arthur, his wife Vera the two girls they fostered. My Step mum Mrs Hay, myself and my two brothers Gary and Jeff. With everything that would be required for two families for six weeks in Wales. Not quite but nearly including the kitchen sink, all into that Zephyr.
I only had happy memories of those trips, pick nicks on the side of the road. Raspberry picking and hunting for wild strawberries in the hedgerows as we took a break for lunch on our way to the coast. I don’t recall those journeys being bad or uncomfortable at all. Perhaps that was just the innocence of youth. I seem to remember it always being sunny too.
Though I do recall an incident that could have ruined everything. I was about six years old and sat in the front of the Zephyr on Aunty Vera’s lap. Probably so I could be kept an eye on and not in the back squabbling with my brothers. We were probably travelling to Rhyl, but it was the full compliment of adults and kids, with every available bit of space being used.
Now this recollection comes from the dark recesses of my memory of 55 years or so ago. So here goes. There were four of us on the front seat. Arthur driving, a small child, I don’t recall who. Aunty Vera with me sort of sat beside and half on her lap.
As was the norm on these sort of journeys if we were running late the customary Pick Nick by the side of the road was abandoned for an on the go Rolling Pick Nick. Way more stressful for Mrs Hay and Vera. But deep joy for us kids, we got to eat in the car. Something expressly forbidden under normal routine travel, not even a Polo sweet or Jelly baby was permitted. Look out, if Uncle Arthur saw you chewing gum in the car..! It was for him the most expensive thing he would ever own. And was his Pride and Joy.
In the front sandwiches had been eaten and it was now time for fruit. Vera taking care to look after the needs of her man first had peeled him a tangerine. All was going great. Next up was the two forward children. Mrs Hay was performing similar tasks for herself and the kids in the Back. Tangerines were prepared for myself an my co traveler’s, leaving Vera with the peel and pith of four tangerines.
Uncle Arthur not wanting garbage in his object of love and affection, instructed Vera to toss the offending peel out the widow onto the verge, as it would be eaten or decompose. As I was nearest the door, and always willing to help. I reached for the window lever.
Now here’s where it got really interesting. Uncle Arthur was focused on getting us to Rhyl and in the process of negotiate a round about. Just at the moment I opened the car door in mistake for grabbing the window leaver. The door swung open, I started to follow it, but fortunately was grabbed by quick thinking Vera. The door carried on opening and Vera’s hand bag proceeded to scatter halfway around the round about.
Uncle Arthur pulled the car over to the kerb on the opposite side of the round about, applied the hand break and turning the air blue with profanities walked back to retrieve Vera’s scattered hand bag.
I was unceremoniously dragged into the back seat and wedged in the middle well away from any doors. Needless to say I was dreading the return of Uncle Arthur. This was in the days then knocking the living daylights out of a child to teach it a lesson was common practice in the United Kingdom. I had no idea how I was going to get out of this one.
Well Uncle Arthur did return to a very silent car. I believe we all expected him to explode. Yet he didn’t, he inquired after my health. With the quaint old English phrase of ” Is That Bloody Kid OK..?” He then passed Vera her handbag and taking his place behind the wheel we set off once again. A little subdued and a little relieved. On refection now as an older adult I think Uncle Arthur got it all out of his system turning the air blue, and calmed down on his return walk to the car. Me, I was just eternally grateful to all the gods that I didn’t get a good leathering that afternoon. Funnily enough and to my great relief it was never mentioned by the adults ever again..!
Like I said apart from the odd blip, travel as a child was normally exciting but enjoyable. I suppose the other most used way of getting about over long distances had to be the train.
I have to say that train journeys in my youth are massively different than anything a child might encounter today. I could still experience Steam Engines. Porters to carry your luggage, Station Masters in full immaculate uniforms. Ticket offices with a resident cat. And platforms that the station workers took pride in. They were spotless, and had floral tributes, in many cases spelling the Stations name.
Trains departed from stations in a billowing cloud of steam a flurry of green flag waving and the shrill scream of the station masters whistle. Each seating area had a table where Colouring Books or Plastic Soldiers could be deployed. Or the customary Pick Nick unpacked. Not at all like todays trains.
There is a wonderful poem by WH Auden Called ‘Night Mail’ that was part of a project I has at school. It’s rhythm gives you the sense of being on the train as it journeys through the night to Scotland.
Night Mail by WH Auden.
This is the night mail crossing the Border,
Bringing the cheque and the postal order, Letters for the rich, letters for the poor,
The shop at the corner, the girl next door.
Pulling up Beattock, a steady climb:
The gradient’s against her, but she’s on time. Past cottongrass and moorland boulder
Shovelling white steam over her shoulder,
Snorting noisily as she passes
Silent miles of wind-bent grasses. Birds turn their heads as she approaches,
Stare from bushes at her blank-faced coaches. Sheep-dogs cannot turn her course;
They slumber on with paws across.
In the farm she passes no one wakes,
But a jug in a bedroom gently shakes.
Dawn freshens, Her climb is done.
Down towards Glasgow she descends,
Towards the steam tugs yelping down a glade of cranes
Towards the fields of apparatus, the furnaces
Set on the dark plain like gigantic chessmen.
All Scotland waits for her:
In dark glens, beside pale-green lochs
Men long for news.
Letters of thanks, letters from banks,
Letters of joy from girl and boy,
Receipted bills and invitations
To inspect new stock or to visit relations,
And applications for situations,
And timid lovers’ declarations,
And gossip, gossip from all the nations,
News circumstantial, news financial,
Letters with holiday snaps to enlarge in,
Letters with faces scrawled on the margin,
Letters from uncles, cousins, and aunts,
Letters to Scotland from the South of France,
Letters of condolence to Highlands and Lowlands
Written on paper of every hue,
The pink, the violet, the white and the blue,
The chatty, the catty, the boring, the adoring,
The cold and official and the heart’s outpouring,
Clever, stupid, short and long,
The typed and the printed and the spelt all wrong.
Thousands are still asleep,
Dreaming of terrifying monsters
Or of friendly tea beside the band in Cranston’s or Crawford’s:
Asleep in working Glasgow, asleep in well-set Edinburgh,
Asleep in granite Aberdeen,
They continue their dreams,
But shall wake soon and hope for letters,
And none will hear the postman’s knock
Without a quickening of the heart,
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?
It was a sad day for children in the whole of the UK when on the 11 August 1968 the last steam passenger service in Britain ran its last journey.
The last mainline steam passenger train from Liverpool via Manchester to Carlisle and back was the Oliver Cromwell. It was affectionally named the Fifteen Guinea Special, because of the high prices charged for the trip – £15 15s A Guinea being £1 and 1 shilling. Thousands of people turned out to say their goodbyes to over 138 years of British Steam locomotion history. I’m glad to say this wonderful bit of my past is still a working train at the National Railway museum.
If we put cars and trains to one side. I would have to say my next most memorable journey has to be my first flight. Even as a Meer boy I and my brothers Jeff and Gary were quite familiar with Airports. A treat out on several occasions during my youth would be a trip to Ringway Airport just outside Manchester to see the Aircraft take off and land. We would also be permitted to enter the departure lounge to use the restrooms before the trip home. All very exciting stuff for a small child.
So around the tender age of seventeen when the military decided to send me to Hong Kong, airports were not new to me. The actual Air travel though was a different thing entirely.
I was stationed at the Light Division Training Depot Shrewsbury as a Boy Soldier when I received the great news that I would be posted to Hong Kong not Germany or Northern Ireland. So it was with a Glad heart that I began my 9701.2 km or 6,023 mile journey to the Far East.
My first leg was by train to London, no trouble there as I only had two bits of luggage, an army suitcase and sausage bag. Back in 1976 the military gave soldiers not an actual rail ticket, but a military Chit. This you swopped at any railway station for your ticket. If you knew the HQ Company Clerk, ‘Meal chits’ could also be acquired and ‘Taxi chits…!’ It was just a case of who you knew. HQ Company clerk had pre-booked me into the Union Jack Club in London.
The Union Jack Club is an Armed Forces Club in central London for enlisted members and veterans of the British Armed Services and their families. The club now has over 260 rooms for accommodation, a restaurant, bar, small library, and a full range of meeting and banqueting rooms. The club’s main entrance is in Sandell Street off Waterloo Road, opposite Waterloo Station which is really handy for National Rail Trains and Waterloo Underground station too.
After a few beers in the bar it was up to my room for a good nights sleep. Breakfast was a full English with loads of coffee, just to set me up for a long days travel. My arrival at Heathrow Airport was facilitated by a Black London Taxi and a White Chit.
As is the military way on arrival at the check in I had no ticket, just a number on a piece of paper issued to me by the clerk. As he handed it to me he said. “You loose this you pay your own way to Hong Kong…!” So it was with great reverence that I handed the Check In Lady my paper with it’s magical number. She smiled, typed in something on her keyboard and perhaps for the first time in my life I was addressed as Mr Gardner.
My general mantra for travel is to travel light though not this time. Both my suitcase and sausage bag were heavy. As I had tried to pack everything I owned into them. I had no concept of baggage weight restrictions and fortunately the check in lady didn’t seem to mind. Still with her reassuring smile she asked me where I would like to sit ‘Smoking or Non Smoking’ I opted for non smoking and a bulkhead emergency exit seat. Something I strive for on every flight, as I enjoy the extra leg room.
My luggage disappeared along a conveyor belt. And I with my boarding pass and passport in hand headed for immigration. At immigration I handed over my brand new passport, something I had only had for about a month yet again issued by the crown via the HQ Company Clerk. The immigration chap wished me a pleasant flight and then I was Air Side. A brief wander around duty free looking at all the things I couldn’t afford and then it was time to head for my gate.
Boarding was simple and I was soon settled in my seat. Once boarding was completed I was happy that the aircraft was only half full and nobody had fancied sitting in my isle. With everyone comfortable, normal safety procedures started to happen. You know the deal, how to fit oxygen, doorway positions, and of course the location of your life vest in the event we crash into a mountain..!
It was at this time the tannoy sprang to life with the Captains voice. It was now that I experienced my first ever moment of sheer panic. It lasted for about twenty-seconds. But to me it was a lifetime. Here was me all settled in a posh comfy seat, when the Captain said. “This is your Captain speaking, I and my crew would like to welcome you aboard our flight to Colombo…!”
I the next twenty-seconds the Gods only know the range of emotions I went through. Firstly I thought I was on the wrong flight. I had visions of having to stop this flight. Get myself and my baggage off this plane going to Colombo a place up on till seconds ago I never knew existed. And then find and board the flight to Hong Kong.
Talk about breaking out in a cold sweat. I was just about to get the attention of a stewardess when my mind caught up with the Captains voice, he continued. ” For those of you carrying on to Hong Kong there is a three hour lay over in Colombo for refuelling and passenger collection…!” The rest of what he said was just a blur.
I learnt many things in those few moments. There is a Country called Sri Lanka, who’s capital city is Colombo. My flight was not direct to Hong Kong. And that perhaps I should have done a little research about my flight.
To be totally honest I had no idea we had taken off. It was only when I had been served my first coffee that my nerves had calmed down and I could appreciate we were flying. I personally thought It would have been a louder experience yet it wasn’t. I also expected there to be way more movement though I sensed very little.
My recollection of the service on board was impeccable, who could complain when half a dozen or so of the most attractive ladies this young man had ever seen in one location were catering to his needs! Also the needs and wants of fifty or so other passengers. Yet I did feel extra special.
The flight sort of went like this. The take-off and my blind panic during it. Coffee and snacks being served and me calming down. A couple of hours flight, a hot meal being served. Then the lights were dimmed so we could sleep. The lights became brighter again. A breakfast meal was served and on completion of the cleanup from that it was duty free sales, more stuff I could not afford. Then preparation for landing at Colombo.
As I covered earlier I didn’t really notice the air craft getting into the air. The Landing was something else. How can I describe it? It maybe that because I have no control of my immediate environment, and I just have to sit there and trust the crew. I’m just not really sure. But In flight no drama, but the last 500 feet the landing and the bit where the reverse thrusters come on. I’m not a happy teddy…!
Even with my trepidations I must commend the crew on a superb textbook landing. As unsettled as I was there was nothing to complain about. I regained my mojo as we reached the end of the runway and turned towards the Apron area. I’m sixty-five years old now, I’ve been all around the world and still have that same feeling on every landing.
Once we had taxied to our relevant spot on the apron there was a slight pause as the crew explained where we should go if we were onward traveling, or just departing here. Next there was a flurry of activity to open the front and rear doors so we could depart. As my over wing emergency exit door wasn’t being opened I joined the rest of my flight and headed for my nearest door.
I was still on the aircraft, maybe six or seven yards short of the door when it hit me. It was like a punch, or a slap across the face. Something I had never ever experienced before. It was the stench, Colombo actually smelt terrible. Maybe the wind was in the wrong direction, or it was just a really hot day..! I’ve no idea why, but by all the gods it smelt terrible. Fortunately it was just a short walk from the bottom of the steps to the arrivals area.
Once inside the arrivals area, comforted by the cooling Air Con and that unbelievable stench gone from my nostrils I searched for somewhere to get a drink. I had to do something to clear my throat. A stall vendor provided the beverage, I had a few hours to wander the Airport. Had I chosen I could have grabbed a Taxi for a Whistle Stop tour of Colombo as a few of my fellow traveler’s decided to do. I just did not have the heart to go out into the stench again unless I had too.
The Numbers and letters of the large information board clicked over and soon it was our time to board again. Once more across the apron, and up the stairs onto the aircraft. Could I manage this on one breath…. I doubt it. As I was following the trail of my fellow passengers, there was no hurrying. I had to run the gauntlet of the smell again. Was it as strong, was I getting used to it. I cannot say. All I can report is that it was still there until I took my seat and the aircraft air con blasted me from above.
Once the doors were secure and the pre-flight security procedures had been explained. I could focus on the take off this time. Which I might add was a joy to experience. Yes, there was a rapid acceleration and from where I was sat the nose visibly rose up, yet there was no sensation of us leaving the earths gravitational pull. It was as if we just drifted off. The next major sensation was the sharp right turn which caused me to admire Colombo from the air though my window seat. We then levelled off and ascended up to the realm of the Gods.
Colombo to Kai Tak international airport Hong Kong is deemed a short flight. So it was coffee, a pause, lunch in the clouds then another pause, duty free sales and then prepare for landing.
Landing at the Old Kai Tak Airport is no longer possible. Hong Kong has a wonderful new airport. The airport is also referred to as Chek Lap Kok International Airport or Chek Lap Kok Airport, to distinguish it from its predecessor, the former Kai Tak Airport.
Now I had the deep joy of landing at the Old Tai Tak airport. Because of the positioning of the airport with water on three sides of the runway, and Kowloon City’s residential apartment complexes and 2000+ft mountains to the north-east of the airport. Aircraft could not fly over the mountains and quickly drop in for a final approach .
Instead your aircraft had to fly above Victoria Harbour and Kowloon City, passing north of Bishop Hill. Here they would see Checker board hill with a large red and white checkerboard pattern on it.
Once the pattern was sighted and identified, aircraft had to make a low-altitude less than 600 ft 47° right-hand turn, ending with a short final run in and touchdown.
For pilots the approach could not be flown by aircraft instruments, but visually because of the right-hand turn required. I believe Kai Tak is rated the 6th worst airport in the world to land at.
Well, you can imagine my surprise as I’m all tensed up for yet another landing of which I have no control. Here is me sat in my comfy seat looking out the window. Beneath me is Hong Kong in the distance the sea. When all of a sudden its like the Pilot has thrown in a hand break turn and I can see the laundry hanging on apartment blocks that are higher than we are. To say my heart was in my mouth was an understatement. There is a sensation people experience when traveling over hump back bridges it’s the phenomenon of “weightlessness or leaving your stomach behind” which you witness when there is no force of support on your body. When your body is effectively in “free fall”. In my case falling downward at the same speed as the aircraft, then you have the feeling of not being supported at all. It’s an uncanny feeling. On a bridge this is but a momentary sensation. On that turn and decent it lasted for ages…! Eventually we touch down, the reverse thrusters screams in and it was over…! That landing did absolutely nothing to ease my trepidation of landings. Don’t take my word for it. Just Google Kai Tak Landings. That landing is a memory that will be with me forever.
I have some other wonderful engaging tales to tell of my travels, and dear reader I will get to them. Yet that’s not what I am about at this moment. I have covered some of the travels of my youth. And even with my unintentional screw ups, traveling was easier and enjoyable in those days.
So what has changed…?
I’m just going to throw this out there. I think we have changed. Yes, you and I, the people, your Boss, Teachers, Lawyers even the Bobby on the Beat. How and why we have changed is probably beyond me to explain. But If you will indulge me I will take a stab at it. I hold no PhD. specialising in cultural studies. But I have in my own way noticed things.
Perhaps it’s just me but I’ve noticed things have gotten easier, I wouldn’t say better but definitely easier. The rough woollen blankets and flannelette sheets of my youth have been replaced by soft quilts. I don’t have to go outside to the toilet or use a Tin Bath in the yard. Kids don’t walk to school in all weather. They also seemed to have stopped playing outside.
Sixteen year old apprentices could often be seen walking home from work lugging a large canvas bag of tools, the tools of their trade. No leaving them in lockers at work. The idea behind this ritual was to teach the young lads responsibility for the security and care of their work tools, and it would have a lasting effect, but alas it is no longer done.
I’m not saying this to harp on about ” Oh look how hard we had it…! It’s all milk and honey today…!” I’m just raising the issue that things have gotten easier. And that todays youth maybe have had less life lessons along the way.
For example, I have no idea when a telephone first appeared in our home, but arrive it did. Not that we were permitted to use it, but we were instructed in how to answer it politely and correctly. Answering could often be interesting as it was a joint line, shared with other homes in our street, and hearing their conversations could be amusing and informative.
Every Main Street had the familiar red phone box. Fourpence being the price of a local phone call. Once you had opened the heavy door, you were presented with the Bakelite phone. With button A which let you be heard and button B which returned your money. As kids you never passed a phone without pressing Button B, 4d (old pennies) would buy 8 Bazooka Joe chewing gums.
As a kid you had to memorise any phone number you needed, and many a time growing up I would be challenged before going out for my house number and a near neighbours number.
Yet today in most children’s pockets is a tool so unthinkable in my childhood days it beggars belief. Something as big as the palm of their hand that is a not just a phone. It’s a camera, sat nav, stop watch, music player, media player, magnifying glass, guitar tuner, fitness guru, calculator…! I could go on and on. And yet the maddest thing of all is that it holds within it the font of all recorded knowledge, at the very fingertips of every child, teenager and adult. As a kid if I needed factual information I had to walk to the library and seek it out. Normally via ‘The Encyclopaedia Britannica.’ Or another composition like the ‘Pears Encyclopaedia.”
During the last 70 years a lot has taken place. It goes without saying that people’s standard of living has been greatly elevated, with massive urban development. And with that people’s lifestyles and preferences have changed. One of the major shifts in people’s way of life has been to do with their career choices. The west’s digital boom has boosted the information, entertainment, and service industries, and created massive opportunities for Online-commerce.
Since I joined the work force, labor has become more flexible, fluid and mobile. There are huge possibilities for career and life choices, in terms of where to work, how to live and how to present oneself to the world. Now compare that with their parents generations. They have no idea or reference points to use when they have to explore new things or uncharted areas. They have to find their own way, maybe through bad experiences and trial and error. Is that a good thing I personally don’t think so.
With the massive jump in technology has come with it vast amounts of instant information. It’s my belief that this amongst many other social constructs has turned everyone in to a high demand, instant gratification, media believing, fashion icon wearing or using clone.
People want instant everything. Instant food, Coffee, Transport, News, Speed-dating. We have become a ‘Now Society’ We are just not prepared to be patient anymore. With this impatience comes rudeness. The “why can I not have it now..?” , and the “I want it now..!” Types.
Today you are castigated for being an individual, for standing out or speaking up against the media narrative. Yet in my youth these were the very things teachers tried to bring out in you.
Well, as I’m mentioning teachers they too have changed. In my youth teachers were a person of authority one looked up to. They were politically impartial, and taught you knowledge or where and how to find it. They taught the truth..! Not feelings, and they certainly were not politically left leaning. The role of teachers in children education has massively changed. Teaching methods differs from the old Reading, Writing and Arithmetic, as much as modern Doctors techniques differ from applying leeches and bloodletting.
So, OK things have changed in the last seventy years. Eugene Aldrin, the father of the famous moon landing astronaut Buzz Aldrin, not only witnessed the Wright brothers’ first flight but also went to see his son land on the moon in his lifespan. There is roughly 65.5 years between the two events. Things have changed unbelievably in the last twenty years. For example advancements in Mobile phones, flash drives, Google Maps, The Human Genome Project, Bluetooth technology, Curiosity Mars Rover, AbioCor artificial hearts and gene-editing tools to name but a few.
So how have all these things changed travel? Well, technological advancements have made travel much quicker cheaper and easier. Be it by plane, train, car or ocean liner. A tour along the Nile Valley taking in the Temples along the way would have been a trip reserved purely for the affluent. Though today anyone can book a trip online and be traveling in a day or so. I know I have done that very thing.
When things were much slower and deliberate. People took time to plan their events, even learn a little about the culture of the lands they would be visiting. Yet, sadly today that is no longer the case anymore. Todays traveler who is a member of the instant gratification brigade want’s to get there as quickly as possible. With instant check-in at the hotel, and a lounger reserved by the pool.
It also goes way beyond the speed of travel. Take a look at the food on the menus. There will be very few if any authentic traditional meals. What is on offer with Steak Medium Rare are MC Nuggets and Hamburgers. You might find one or two local beers and a few local wines, but the Beverage Card will be covered in Tequila Sunrises, Sex On The Beach and Imported Lagers.
Take a stroll along any beach road and ‘English Pub’ signs will be visible every twenty yards or so with the mandatory Pizza Hut or McDonalds. The state of affairs is so bad that the nearest building to the Sphinx in Cairo is a Pizza Hut.
With the outstanding leaps forward in speed and technology. I think we have lost things in equal measure. Things like, honesty, fairness, straightforwardness, dependability, determination, courage, self-control, independence, empathy for others, and so much more.
There is no better type of person to see this with today than a traveler, or group of travellers. Decades ago when travel was slower people just understood that the journey would take a while. They were mentally prepared for it. If in the event of a delay it was taken in ones stride.
Not so today, with our high expectations of speed and seamless travel. Any delay is catastrophic. And somebody must answer for the delay. Heads must roll, the baying mob must have its pound of flesh…! How dare snow block the railway line, or a bird strike delay a flight.
If a train or flight is delayed it is amazing how worked up people get. OK I understand there may be connecting onward travel, other flights or modes of transport already booked and paid for. Though that at the time was unknown to the snowstorm or bird that flew into the engine. So is venting your frustration on a lowly flight rep or train guard really worth it..?
In my time I to have had to deal with all manner of delays, blocked motorways, completely cancelled trains, taxis that just never turned up. Then there is my cock ups, like totally misreading the departure time for myself and my daughters flight to Cairo Egypt. But we adapted and overcame the situation. Ensuring a fantastic trip to Egypt. No kicking or screaming at staff, and once the situation was put to the Travel Staff at Munich Airport they bent over backwards to try and help us. It is amazing what an engaging smile and being polite can achieve.
Then of course there’s the other approach the kicking and screaming one. Since reading the book ‘People-watching‘, The Desmond Morris Guide to Body Language. I have become an avid people watcher. Peoples behaviour and habits, their personalities and their quirks, shows us how people, consciously and unconsciously, signal their attitudes, desires and innermost feelings with their bodies and actions, often more powerfully than with their words. So generally when things get heated over a delay or cock up of some kind I normally sit back and watch the show.
In some cases the poor travel rep gets over whelmed and ends up being heckled and berated by the crowd. With the crowd demanding this or that or the other..! Then of course there is the consummate professional rep. Impeccably dressed in the smartest of livery and in command of the whole situation.
I have witnessed both, but to be honest the more memorable incident was at Friedrickshafen airport. The flight was Germany to London and it was delayed. About sixty souls were being affected and the only reason I knew the flight was being delayed was because the information board was flashing “Delayed” in Yellow next to our flight number.
Then out of the distance two Ryan Air Check In ladies approached our gate area. Presumably armed with new information and guidance about our flight. Even before they had got to the desk they were being inundated with questions. Which both ladies did amazingly well to parry off. Once at the desk one of the ladies was about to address us over the microphone when a Man who had been firing questions at the ladies as they approached us continued his tirade at the girls.
Both girls did well to keep their composure, as he demanded this and that. Then even louder than before he bellowed out the classic..” Do You Know Who I Am..?” Without missing a heartbeat the lovely Ryan Air Lady clicked on the Microphone and said quite calmly..” Does anyone know this gentleman? Can anyone help this gentleman..? He doesn’t know who he is..!”
I wish I could have bottled the laughter that followed, and filmed the guys walk of shame back to his seat..! Once the laughter had subsided the ladies apologised for the unseen delay and proceeded to give everyone food and drink vouchers. Just over an hour later we were called forward to continued on our way to the UK. I hope that guy and everyone who witnessed that beautiful moment learnt something that day. And I also hope those Ryan Air girls are payed well, they earn and deserve every penny.
Over many years all sorts of things had been degrading the wonder of travel. Chipping away at it one experience at a time, for example the first time I visited the Louvre in Paris to see the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo. I was permitted to wander the halls at my leisure. In front of the Mona Lisa were several artists resplendent with all the tools of their trade putting their interpretation to paper or canvas. There was no rush, the security guards were civil, and helpful.
Fast forwards twenty years and then the Louvre was a sausage factory with tourists being the meat. What I experienced on my second trip was basically ‘Get them in, Get them through, Get them out..!’ The route you are to follow was marked on the floor and the security guys had lost their smiles and were now no more than ushers getting people to keep walking thought the exhibits. The tourist was not permitted to enjoy the exhibits or soak up the atmosphere.
I cannot speak for how the Louvre is today, yet another forty years later. I just hope its improved as there is so much beautiful art in that one great location. Art being something that one should never rush.
9/11, and Richard Colvin Reid , also known as the “Shoe Bomber,” have had a great deal to do with spoiling the whole air travel, and travel experiences in general. Both events were terrible. 9/11 because it succeeded, and Reid’s because of the potential destruction that thankfully was avoided.
The added increase of security, and screening and therefore time delay between arrival at the airport and your actual flight is burdensome to say the least. Not to mention what you are not permitted to fly with today.
The talking heads of political parties and media outlets try to spin this as the ‘NEW NORMAL’ yet it is anything but normal. I suppose if you have grown up since 9/11 it may be normal to you. But there are an awful lot of people who recall the true normal. When you did not show your passport to security and were then asked to step into a Huge Microwave machine to see if you have a gun or not..! Something I’m not too keen on doing as the health risks posed by these machines are still being studied, and the evidence is mixed.
Perhaps it is because I have these memories and experiences of effortless travel, these new restrictions annoy me so much. What is saddest about this is that I don’t ever feel we will get our freedoms and simplicity back. To be fair it’s not the carriers fault nor the Airfields. They wish their customers to have the safest journey they can provide.
The blame must rest squarely on humanity..! We have changed, and I don’t think for the better. If as a young man there was something in my community I didn’t like and wished to change. I would write a strongly worded letter to my MP. Attend a few council meeting and do all in my power to rectify the situation. If you succeed or failed in your endeavour you had given it your best shot and took victory or defeat magnanimously.
If it didn’t go your way, the idea of blowing up a Plane or Shooting up a Shopping Mall, would have never entered your head…! Yet today it seems these are the options of choice for anybody who is mildly upset about anything.
Chesty Traveling 