Airport 76 by Roy

Welcome to flight FR208

[advert:mpu] From London’s Stansted airport to the green and pleasant, but flying pigless, Dublin. Now you’re a dad and have signed up lock, stock for a “cheap” low-cost family flight to Ireland to get you all there safely, on time, and on budget, you may at all times:

  1. Appear at the front of the queue immediately, with the correct identification or forever roam this place baggage-less and flightless. 
  2. Verbally assault a suspicious looking father who claims his daughter is under 12 – and therefore of queue-jumpable age. Do this whilst grappling in a manly way with 4 x 4 baby buggy, and whilst restraining the other father from queue jumping.
  3. Totter in the netherworld between the plane steps and the aircraft. Looking on wanly, fighting strong urges to push make-up clad air troll down the emergency chute, as she asks you smugly, “boarding pass sir?”
    I think you’ll find my wife has them, don’t you remember? She went ahead with the baby no more than 30 seconds ago, whilst I unclipped the buggy and hauled our entire house contents up the plane steps. I’m sure she would have just told you she had my boarding pass and that I’ll be struggling up the steps imminently? Eject me from the plane? My dear, I’m not actually on the plane now am I?
  4. Be evermore unable to whizz past the elderly and the dawdlers, tourists and short-sighted enjoying first-come, first-served airside hospitality while the rest are struggling with luggage, baggage and small people.

Instead of this you’ll now have to slowly crawl along behind the infirm and the lost whilst you grow ever thirstier, hungrier and more impatient.

The hidden cost of flying with babies

I honestly think I’ve left my brain landside. We enter the departure area and I can see lots of lovely flights on the board. ‘Oooh’, I think, 'Wouldn’t it be nice to fly to Verona, it's leaving at the same time as our flight back to London. And hey, what about LA, shall we hang back half an hour and be poolside at lunchtime?’
Another quick scan for the magic letters “Stansted airport” and hmmm, let me check my flight printout. Ahhhh…

30 seconds later I’ve accepted the inevitable. We’ve missed the flight. “Hi, when is the next flight to London? I see, In seven hours? That’ll be fine, and the cost? Great, lot of zero’s though, wouldn’t you say?”

Postcript to travel

Rough estimate of number of flights taken over last ten years: 100
Rough estimate of number of flights missed up until baby was born: 0
Rough estimate of flights since baby was born: 1
Rough estimate of missed flights since baby born: 1

Babies? Start charging them.

Video Clips