Sleepy Suffolk

The London City

Here we are, some 8 hours before our planned departure for sunny Portugal. Yet another night spent in the brisk cosiness of Stansted Airport. And amidst the newly padded blue-shaded benches, a mighty Christmas tree cheers the atmosphere. At least 15 ft tall (Laurine reckons 20), with a myriad of bright white lights and several stars (not to mention tinsel and other sundry), it seems this conifer is now the pride of the airport, or perhaps even Essex (and its notorious girls).

More on our trip soon...

It's funny how people associate places with specific icons or memories. Take for instance Dublin. Many a tourist thinks for Guinness or perhaps Saint Patrick. Dear I wish I were one of those.

But unfortunately, to me, Dublin will be associated with the worst airport experience ever - soothed by a pintful of refreshing Irish cider - but still quite bitter.

In barely four days, the Ryanair-infested airport has witnessed one strike and two false bomb alerts the latter causing much delay. Using this security issue as an excuse, Ryanair - which flies some 10-odd services to Stansted from Dublin - told its customers all the planes were delayed by no less than 2 hours provided you had a bit of luck with. The irony: luck in Ireland, where tourist shops teem with bright green plush shamrock for kids to play with.

Better yet, Ryanair must obviously be run by leprechauns, those little two-feet tall mischevious creatures. Flight 294 departure initially planned at 3:35 PM was delayed off to... 11:50PM. Do the math: yes the time gap is a tad more than the one to two hour delays announced. In addition, the delay was by no means caused by the bomb threath in the early hours of the morning, au contraire. I learned, much to my surprise, that there was no available aircraft to take us to Stansted? Had the originally planned aircraft flown straight over the Bermuda triangle? Had the leprechauns stolen it? Only God knows.

The adventure finished off by Andreas and I buying a new ticket at the Aer Lingus Sales counter. I always wanted to fly an airline that has a shamrock as a symbol. We're currently sipping on two pints and playing around on our computers waiting for the long awaited flight.

The airport I had spent most time at was up to now Gatwick (9 hours waiting for a connection) but I reckon Dublin's beaten that record easily. If I can learn a lesson from all this is Don't take Ryanair as the only solution anymore*.

* Our Ryanair flight was 200 euros apiece bought a day in advance whereas the Aer Lingus flight was a mere 90 euros piece bought three hours in advance.

Sunday evening saw the Boss, Andy and I off to Italy - where the real coffee really comes from. The approach to the airport was in itself an adventure: the Boss took us on a longer shortcut and suddenly we all realized how precious were the minutes slowly ticking away. We eventually stormed into the short-term parking area and as the Boss reeled his car into a parking place, we sprinted on to the terminal.

Once inside we sped down the hall (it's funny how they seem to stretch endlessly when one's in a hurry) and got to the check-in counter just in time to show our ids, get the plane tickets, pass throught security, and board the plane.

Onboard the plane, snuggily sitting in the emergency exit row (the cosiest and widest seats on a Ryanair flight), we sipped a couple beers, munched on a few peanuts and tried keeping busy.

-- if laptops had wireless energy supply, this post would've kept on -- Stay tuned for more pepped-up posts.