Plagiarism - pure and simple...

My sister, the ex-blogger formerly known as 'Footballer's Knees', posted this on her fb page yesterday.  I thought it worth reproducing here as it's so funny.  And sorry sis for not asking your permission but it is 5am your time and I figured that a) you wouldn't mind my using it and b) bearing in mind we are using the same airline ourselves today - on the newly introduced route to London from Moscow, which frankly is going to be a VERY interesting experience - it was relevant...


"Day trip to Newcastle today. Where to start? To rant or to rave? I could rave about the great Easyjet service, the dulcet tones of Paul McGann's recorded voice used for the flight safety notice (the words, 'Brace! Brace!' have new meaning for me), the way the staff of the exec lounge found my passport and delivered it to me at the gate, the fact that I was first off the plane. Didn't you know that it's a race from the plane steps to the airport arrivals exit? I'm not that fast but I beat the short fat-bottomed man in pin stripes and the woman with leopard print stilettos and bad hair extensions. 

Or, I could rant. Oh about so, so many things. Or rather, people. 

The loud and whey-faced people in the security queues who gave the Departure lounge the air of Appleby Horse Fair. Or the horse faced bint with the Accessory Child who held up the whole queue of passengers behind her whilst she placed her many bags in the overhead locker. Without apologising. And then held up the man who wanted to sit in the seat next to her whilst she searched in the locker again to find her phone, idle through her texts, perhaps check FB before she switched her phone off. And then delayed the actual take-off when she got the flight attendant to pull her bag out again to pass her Accessory Child something (I hoped it was some sort of tranquilliser, but alas, not). 

I was open mouthed with indignation at this point - that someone could so blatantly break the Gentle Passenger's Code of Conduct and I looked around to see if anyone was sharing that indignation but it appears that the Code is in my head as everyone else seemed unaware of the heinous crime being committed in seat 23A.

I'm now home in bed, ready for my 5.45 start tomorrow. Night night all!"


Hmmm.  Today could be very interesting.  And maybe I will break the habit of the last few years, and  actually listen to the safety announcement...

In which I show my true colours whilst travelling on a budget airline

On a budget flight between the Netherlands and the UK today, my experience of a week or so ago was put firmly behind me. The lovely lady checking passengers in at the gate sent the Boys and I to a special boarding queue reserved for parents travelling with small children, and we were allowed to follow the priority boarders onto the plane before the main bulk of the passengers were released onto the tarmac to tussle for their seats. A far cry from my having to beg an unwilling passenger for the chance to sit next to my own children on the outbound flight, thank heavens.

As a result, today we sat in only the second row from the front, directly behind a rather over-excited mother and daughter who were keen to tell everyone else around them that this was the first time they had sat right at the front of the plane.

They were from the U.S. and I think this was their first experience of budget air travel in Europe, hence their rather optimistic request that the little girl be allowed to go into the cockpit to have a photograph taken with the pilot (some hope). Halfway through the short flight, Boy #2 overheard the mother telling her daughter that essentially they were sitting in First Class on this plane. Since we had spent the last week travelling through Holland by train, taking advantage of a summer offer to travel 1st class for less than the usual price of a 2nd class ticket, this actually meant something to him and so he wanted clarification.

"Are we?" he asked me. "Are we travelling 1st class?"

What I meant to say in reply was that all the seats on the plane were the same class. Honest. I did, really. No, really.

What I actually said was "There is no class on this plane, darling."

Which of course was untrue. Well, we were in row 2, for starters...

Travelling with kids; it's not the children you need to worry about...

The woman looked at me as if I was crazy, horror and outrage written all over her face. She didn't even need to say what she was thinking; how could I have made such a ridiculous suggestion? Who did I think I was? What on earth had I done to merit any kind of special treatment? I looked around but all about I could only see stony faces, eyes elsewhere, people who had their faces buried in books and magazines - anything rather than acknowledge the situation unfolding inches away from them.

I tried again.

"Would you mind moving? It's just that this was the last free row of 3 seats, I'm travelling with my five and seven year old children, and I think it would be sensible to sit next to them."

I refrained from pointing out that the row in front and behind her each had 2 free seats; if she needed extra room that was still possible, and that I was asking her not because I had singled her out for unfair treatment, but because she happened to have taken the last free row that the stewardess at the front of the plane had directed me to.

Not meeting my eye she answered me "I'm waiting for two friends to join me. So no, I'm not moving."

I looked at my sons. I thought about simply dumping them next to her (there was no sign of her two friends, & first come first served), and sitting across the aisle whilst I fed them messy chocolatey snacks and refused them access to their Nintendo's, resulting in certain meltdown; in my opinion, a suitable reward for her behaviour. I also thought about pointing out to her that the flight we were about to take was only 45 minutes - FORTY FIVE MINUTES! - and surely, surely she could live without her friends' company for that long (especially bearing in mind that they hadn't bothered to do her the politeness of standing in the queue with her). I thought about asking when the last time she struggled through the airport with two young children on her own was, watching other passengers rush past her in the certain knowledge that she was going to be last in the boarding queue - which was of course how I had ended up in this situation in the first place.

I even thought about suggesting to the couple in the row opposite, firmly staring out the window holding hands for all they worth as they tapped their ruby slippers together and wished me and my troublesome children away, that perhaps they could split up and move to alternate seats...

Luckily for all involved none of these things happened, as a woman in the seat in front politely stood up, moved, and gave the row of three up for us as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Budget air travel. It surely is a wonderful thing...