The Grumpy Old Blog

There is no doubt that airports can be quite amusing places. That is apart from being told by a burly security supervisor at the x-ray gate that thanks to the only contribution Yasser Arafat ever made to society, I had to remove my belt, shoes, watch and place my AK-47 in the tray provided. Watching people going around their travel ‘business’ in airports and on board the aircraft is hilarious. There are those who are plainly not very good at it, continually checking all manner of minutiae with the other members of the party. “Do we go to the gate?”, “Have we time for a beer?”, “I MUST get a pizza”. There are those who have plainly not done it much before and like their fellow travellers to be made fully aware of the exact opposite, as they point and gesture to the monitor shouting out their destination and boarding gate at every passing opportunity to one and all around them. There are those who think they are something special – despite the fact they are travelling via bu...

One of the most useless travel ‘must haves’ has to be the faux business class offered on short-haul flights, rail travel etc, although it has to be said that some long-haul flight share some of the irony treating travel as something it plainly isn’t. Fake boarding the plane. They call out business-class, or in the case of the budget airlines, idiot-class, to board first, followed by women with young perambulated offspring. What this means is, instead of reading a little longer in the comfort of the airport lounge and its slatted, haemorrhoid-inducing seating, you are rushed on to the plane ahead of the other passengers. Now I appreciate the purchased-teeth, four-wheel-drive, electric gate brigade from, say Cheshire, love strutting their stuff in airport lounges, safe in the knowledge that the remaining cattle class passengers are fully aware they have paid for the privilege of being referred to as business class and are called to board the plane before anyone else. ...

Having just ‘done’ the "Gatwick thing" a few days ago en route to Barcelona, I am convinced that airport security is a connivance. The requirement to turn up at the airport seven hours in advance to book in is a total sham and a complete waste of time and passengers' money. I am convinced that the airlines, passport control, border agency and G4S security chumps are on the W H Smith payroll, hence the reason we have to turn up so early for our flight. And the reason I say this is - have you seen the altogether mighty creative prices at WH Smith? The humble bag of crisps is now 99p! Yes, the 1970's equivalent price of a week's petrol. 60p short of the cost seeing The Electric Light Orchestra in concert. Or the cost of three pints of beer. 99p for 50g of pure, salty cholesterol, and not even the equivalent of one reasonably sized potato contained therein! And as for sandwiches - nearly £4 for two slices of bread with some slop wedged between. And 85p for a...

A regular sight outside the more 'economical' end of the supermarket trade - Aldi, Lidl and no doubt the soon-to-be-resurrected Kwik Save - are the number of personally-numberplated executive cars parked there. It seems that continually paying over the odds for food basics is a hobby that people are giving up across the entire socio-economic divide, and if it means hiking your fur coat up over your behind and joining the great unwashed in order to reduce the price of your shopping basket, then so be it. The £ in your pocket is definitely better in your pocket. However, what I can't understand is how price-sensitivity totally disappears amongst the great British public the moment they enter an airport, train station, attend a conference/event venue or enter a motorway stopover. Instantaneously, the person who would normally travel 10 miles around six different supermarkets in order to save 3p on a tub of yoghurt, is suddenly quite at ease purchasing three bottles of 6...

There was a time when WYSIWYG wasn't just about idiot-proof computer programmes. Long, long ago, in a little place called Reasonable Land, if you wanted a £20 ticket for the Rolling Stones at the Venue, a month or two before the event, when the tickets went on sale, you either phoned up to reserve one (in fairness being told that if you didn't collect they'd be sold), sent in a letter with a £20 cheque, or queued up for one yourself. You paid your £20 and walked off with your ticket. Now, the process is all automated, but you do have to be quick off the 'enter' key before the website crashes. You rarely can collect in person, you can phone a £30 a minute premium rip-off number and give your card details over the phone, you certainly can't reserve one without paying, and occasionally you can 'win' one using the 'enter' key. However, unlike the 'olden days' , added will be a booking fee, a handling fee, a postage fee, a packing fee, ...