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m posted in General moans on August 13th, 2006
So, I finally find the true cost of paying £40 for return flights to Edinburgh. The price is this; Easyjet will cancel the flight, and offer no realistic alternatives. When I’ve seen those TV programmes about Easyjet, I’ve almost always sided with the staff, regardless of how condescending they might be. However, now that I’ve experienced the “service” for myself, I’d like to announce that the sub-contractors wearing Easyjet jackets at Edinburgh airport are - if I’m forced to tone down the anger - tools. And I mean that in the 80s vernacular, rather than Marxist sense.
You might think that, because we were expecting to fly a few days after the latest “terror” alert, I shouldn’t really be directing my anger at Easyjet’s minions. “They’re only doing their job”, you say. Well, shut your face. Our flight was between two airports which were barely affected by the headless-chickenry of the last few days. And while a number of flights from Edinburgh were cancelled due to the restricted service at London airports, Bristol was open for business and shrugging its shoulders. British Airways were gladly sending a plane full of unsuspecting tourists straight into the heart of the burning war-zone that is Somerset, as were all other operators flying into Bristol.
So why did Easyjet cancel our flight? Well, it wasn’t particularly straightforward to find out. After being told our options for flight transfers (”You can go to Luton, if you like” and “There’s a flight out of Glasgow tomorrow”) I attempted to engage in a conversation with the automated hoover-in-a-dead-skin-mask masquerading as an Easyjet representative. I thought it was reasonable to ask why the flight had been cancelled, as I’d probably need to know this when trying to claim on travel insurance. Her response (and I don’t believe I’m exaggerating or embellishing) was this; she stared at us. We gave it a few seconds for the question to sink in and get processed. She had dead eyes. I think one of us rephrased or repeated the question. She smiled at us, and looked down at the computer screen in front of her (which I know had the information for the alternative flights on it, as she’d just been telling us about them.) She looked back up at me, so I kind of raised an eyebrow. She looked over at the Easyjet-branded dustbin sat next to her. To my surprise, it was alive. It smirked at her, and said - or rather, asked - “Weather?”
When I asked for written/printed confirmation of this (so that I could send it to the insurance company if requested) I was given a not entirely brief lecture on the nature of the employment contracts held by the stuffed jackets (Easyjet jackets, as it happens) stood before us. They weren’t allowed to write, because they work for someone else, who Easyjet sub-contract. This might have been an excuse they use to cover up the fact that they are illiterate baboons.
So, there it was. We hired two cars and drove to Bristol over the following 6 hours or so. On the trip back, the likely reality of the situation dawned on us. A flight out of a London airport, going to Edinburgh, had probably been cancelled. And it seems likely that our plane never actually went to Edinburgh. Rather than fly an empty plane to Scotland in order to carry a few hundred tourists and business-people back to Bristol, they just didn’t bother.
Our hire cars were upgraded, so we had a reasonably pleasant trip back. Look;
I drove the black one. Thankfully, I’d bought 7 CDs in Avalanche Records, so we had some stuff to listen to on the way home. Further tales of Edinburgh to follow tomorrow, I expect. The world holds its breath, I’m sure.
