My recent trip to Poland involved flying from Luton (or London – Luton as the airlines call it, who are they kidding?) to Gdansk.
Air travel is so frustrating, even when you check-in online there are still plenty of queues, questions and security checks to negotiate. To be fair we travelled with Wizz Air and at least checking in didn’t involve dozens of questions that I’d already answered online, unlike most airlines. Possibly the most annoying thing at the moment is the policy on liquids. It’s amazing how a failed attempt at a bombing, it didn’t even reach the airport, has made it such hard work, especially if you just have carry on luggage.
The ‘fun’ started at Luton when I had to buy a clear plastic bag to put my terrorist kit, shampoo and deodorant, in – only £1 for four bags and ten minutes spent trying to open the case they came in. One broken nail and a lot of choice language later everyone had their dangerous items bagged. The main worry though, or to be more the main worrier, was one of my travelling companions who shall remain nameless (okay, her name’s Jane). She’s already left her phone at the check-in desk and had to be called back and then ‘lost’ her passport as ‘I never put it in that pocket’. The current item of concern was the suicide bomber’s favourite, a prawn cocktail that she’s bought earlier and wanted to take through to eat later. Did it count as liquid, would it get through the stringent security?
Needless to say after going through security Jane was asked to open her bag for a detailed inspection and it seemed that her fears were confirmed, no prawn cocktail for tea. However the guard rummaged in the bag and calmly placed the snack to one side, apparently it wasn’t an issue. He then produced an implement that looked like it might have been Edward Scissorhand’s spare wrist attachment, an array of knives, bodgers and a corkscrew. Oh, said Jane, I’d forgotten about my multi-tool…
After the fuss we moved through to the bar and awaited the flight, only one more twenty minute queue at the departure gate and we were on our way.
The return experience was not quite as bad, my souvenir snow globe got mixed looks from the security staff, not sure if it was on the grounds of a possible threat or simply those of taste, at least the guard in question was a smiling lady rather than the usual lot you get in England who have affability and personality of a robot.
And it was at this point that Jane decided that she wasn’t going to eat that prawn cocktail after all, so it had journeyed from Suffolk to Gdansk via Luton and spent five happy days in the beautiful forest near Kościerzyny before being cast aside at Gdansk airport.
The final annoyance was queuing at Luton’s passport control. I don’t mind a short wait but it is galling that passengers from outside the EU shot through while us Brits had to wait in line. Whoever wrote about travelling hopefully being better than arriving must have lived well before air travel came on the scene.