The package flight

WARNING: I am writing this from a private beach in Talum so expect plenty of errors!

So close friends decided to spend a month in Mexico this august. I agreed to meet them for a couple of weeks. The flight options were limited. I hate transfers and British airways were showing 2 transfers. How is one supposed to settle into a playlist or movie with that many changes? There were only 2 options; thomsons or virgin. Being pure in nature virgin was my first choice but it would mean 10 hours of airport time between their flight and mine. I love alone time but airports are stressful and I didn’t have the budget for business lounge, I.e. Kids minimised, so opted for thomsons.

My first clue that this was a little different was when they told me I could take luggage but had to pay for it plus an extra space seat. FYI that was £40 not well spent. I was only allowed 20kgs which meant me repacking twice ( throwing out 3 pairs of shoes and my robe) to get it down to 19.4kgs.

I arrived at gatwick north to the recollection that I hate gatwick north. There aren’t any decent shops. Oh terminal 5! Why hast thou forsaken me? Yes my precious, I’m an airport snob.

We get on the flight and for once Maxine my Budda belly is feeling rather tiny despite the failed pre holiday diet. I’m surrounded by men with bellies and women with multiple bellies. I could get used to this. My dress to impress just in case a hottie is on the plane is a pure waste.

I’m sat next to a Ricky gervais look alike and his 3 mini gervaises. They needed the extra space seats. Apparently Ricky’s balls are so big that he has to spread his track suit legs into my extra space. There isn’t enough extra space. They eat all the way through a 10 hour flight. They accompany their food with farting and burping both of which I don’t hear as the noise from the other passengers is so loud I can’t even hear announcements but by god do I smell them. Ricky playfully swots Ricky junior junior whenever it’s his farts that join the limited air in the plane. I try to sleep but my eye cover doesn’t keep out smell. I give up and instead build an epic jukebox list on the music thingy. None of the movies I wanted to see in the magazine were actually on the thingy. So music it is!

I overhear a conversation between a mum and her kids. Apparently her brats are getting their gcse results the next day. Something tells me they’re not twins and some may be resits. She tells them that they’ll drink when they’ve got their results to celebrate or commiserate. This worries me. Aren’t you only 16 at gcse level. Even the resit one can’t be over 18. Have the laws changed?

I ask for water they try to charge me the price of a 3 packs if haribos. I didn’t think you could do long hail budget but, you can. The attendants look weather beaten and essexified. This is glamorous to them.

All that said it was £300 less than virgin. You can’t choose the other passengers. I don’t think that I will use them long haul regularly. Their lack of a rewards system alone precludes them from being a regular choice. But for the odd cheap get away…. Why not? And now I can upgrade and still be in a normal holiday budget. Result!

Just take nose and ear plugs….and that emergency stash of treats.

Right, now back to the beach.

(C) chelsea black 2014

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