Oh, Ravers, you have had it easy - if you'd ever had to travel with Madame Mnairb, you'd give up travelling for life! I always try to learn from my mistakes - the first mistake was letting her have her boarding pass. She went to the toilet at Gatwick while I sat outside with the boys. Unbeknown to either of us, she'd come out of the toilet and made her way to the departure gate without telling us. We are getting last call for the flight and we are still waiting for her to come out of the toilet. Reluctantly (and after having gone into the toilet and called her name several times) we went to the gate without her. There she was, looking as though it was someone elses fault. Now, I keep the passports and boarding passes on me until she absolutely needs them and snatch them back immediately. Even so, on flight to Dubai from LGW she managed to lose her boarding pass between the departure area and the aircraft and I had to hike her passport out while the purser went through the manifest.I’ve posted a couple of dits in the how bone is your missus thread, but Lady Ravers is a ******* nightmare to travel with.
She’s been to over 85 different countries and her job working for a posh travel agent, used to involve going on holiday every 6 weeks or so.
You’d think she would’ve had this airport crack nailed by now, but no. For some reason, a normally highly intelligent woman who speaks five languages, turns into a complete retard at the first sniff of an airport.
Whenever we go away now, a familiar and agonising ritual takes place.
Our bags are packed about 5 days before. This includes our toothbrushes, deodorant and what not.
You can probably see the problem already.
Baggage limitations on the flight must be strictly adhered to. By that I mean if the limit is 20kg each, then we are taking 20kg each.
Even if we’re only going for the weekend.
So on the morning of the flight I have to play car Tetris. The kids are crammed in with suitcases and all manner of hand luggage packed around them. Two suitcases will be half empty, but the suggestion that we combine the contents into one suitcase is met with extreme hostility.
We park up at the airport. While we’re waiting for the bus to the terminal it will be time to unpack one of the suitcases to retrieve a random item that we now need urgently.
The bus comes while the suitcase is still open and all our underwear is getting rained on. There is a mad rush to try and repack the bag while many pissed off people wait for us on the bus.
We get off the bus. We have to navigate our way to the terminal carrying rucksacks and about 3 suitcases each. My 7 year old daughter is trying to push a suitcase that is 4 times the size of her.
We eventually get to check in with only minor injuries. Bags are again emptied and repacked in the queue, usually at the check in desk, while a growing queue of angry people forms behind us.
It turns out she’s brought 4 bottles of water, just in case the kids get thirsty between the car park and the check in desk. These now have to be disposed of somewhere. Preferably in the kid’s bladders so they’ll need to piss as soon as we board the plane.
We go through security. She’s purchased fast passes at 20 odd quid a pop that mean we can go in a smaller queue. We get directed into this queue anyway because we have kids with us, no one checks the fast passes. That’s 80 quid wasted.
Our bags get unpacked again to remove 4 iPads, a laptop and enough random electronic gadgets to stock PC World. None of this could go in the checked suitcases because it might get nicked apparently. The bags go through the scanner and at least one gets pulled for a recheck.
“Sorry I forgot my kindle was in there.”
The first of the kids decides it’s now time for a piss.
Finally we’re in the terminal, life should be easy now, but no, we have to buy a load of overpriced shit which now means we have 3
carry ons each.
Despite the fact that we are still 3 hours early for our flight, there is a mad panic when the gate is announced and we have to run there.
We’re now first in a queue that won’t exist for at least another hour.
They call us up first anyway because we are travelling with kids.
The second child now needs a piss but we’re in the queue and about to get on the plane.
We get to our seats, the kid is now jumping around with crossed legs so I have to go back against the flow of passengers to get to the bog.
In the meantime the wife is taking up 3 overhead lockers with all the shite she’s bought.