4.30am At The Airport: I apos;m Beltless Shoeless Exhausted. If This Is A apos;holiday apos I Want To Go Home
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By <br> Published: 01:57 GMT, 4 August 2013 | Updated: 00:05 GMT, 5 August 2013 <br> </a> <br>The exotic dateline for this column is the Premier Inn, Gatwick, where I am holed up with four charming and chatty teenage boys and one husband.<br><br>The reason I am here is because flying makes family holidays an exhausting, expensive form of coronary-inducing torture that tests us all to destruction - but is nonetheless obligatory at this time of year for those of us with dependent offspring in education.<br><br>And in our case - my husband has plane fever - the only way to do it is to overnight on day minus one in the Premier Inn, Gatwick.<br> Throng: It is that time of year when we join the queues of of beltless, sleep deprived travellers heading for sunnier climes<br> <br>For tomorrow, ie Sunday, the day you'll be reading this, if all goes to plan, we have to report for duty at 4.30am for our 7am flight to Thessaloniki.<br><br>We will join the epic queue of the sleep-deprived - holding their pile creams and pills in Ziploc baggies and wondering whether that lip gloss in the side pocket counts as an offensive weapon - shuffling forward in our beltless slacks and socks through security, and then sitting with nothing to eat or drink for four hours.<br><br>At Thessaloniki, in theory, if we survive this far, we will pick up our hire cars and drive for a further four hours to Pelion, stopping en route to do a supermarket sweep for cereal, oil, vinegar, tea, coffee, sugar - yes, all the ‘store-cupboard basics' we already have at home.<br><br>As we load the trolley I predict one of us will say: ‘Just think of it as one euro to the pound,' with a grim face, frowning at the price of feta.<br><br>Thanks to some congenital disorganisation, I have ended up renting two separate dwellings rather than one - so our party will be split.<br><br>I will, therefore, spend my ‘holiday' catering for five hungry males in two different houses - 15 minutes apart in 90-degree heat for nine days, before doing the horribly early start-drive-flight in reverse to get home.<br><br>Fun times!<br><br>And that's if all goes to plan. And it never does. As we all know, someone's passport has always expired, someone has forgotten their driving licence counterpart, or to print out their boarding pass, and it's all a living nightmare.<br><br>So why do we still do it?<br><br>Well, actually, there are encouraging signs that this British custom of the August beach hol ‘somewhere hot' is going out of fashion (in America, of course, they have annual vacation of only two weeks and ‘holidays' means the get-togethers at Thanksgiving and Christmas).<br> Nose dive: Budget airline Ryanair has announced a 21 per cent drop in profits for the first quarter of the year<br> <br>Ryanair has just announced a 21 per cent drop in profits for the first quarter, blaming austerity and the weak pound, and highly paid industry analysts have concluded: ‘People who would ordinarily have flown to sun hotspots opted to stay at home instead.'<br><br>Meanwhile, the airline's boss Michael O'Leary has just announced a punitive £17 hike in the charge per piece of hold luggage for the summer period.<br><br>He's even planning to charge for hand luggage too - ie Ryanair is destined to become the no-luggage carrier of choice for those with iron constitutions and bladders - given his druthers, O'Leary would also like to have standing-only flights with paywalled toilets.<br><br>Because of all the above, my own expert analysis of the tanking airline industry is this: the reason people aren't flying so much as yore is because we're fed up.<br><br>We're fed up with spending two days like cattle in an airport on either side of two weeks in the broiling heat somewhere new.<br><br><br><br><br>This is not guaranteed to be either fun or relaxing, especially when it's so nice here and the sun has come out for the first time in eight years.<br><br>So, though by the time you read this I have left on my jet plane, I'm secretly with Hilary Devey, off Dragons' Den, who hasn't taken a proper holiday for 17 years.<br><br>‘I don't really take holidays, but I did go to Casablanca six years ago - and hated it,' she says.<br><br>And I'm with the late Christopher Hitchens, who used to loathe being asked to recommend summer reads as if everyone, come August, without exception, would be lying on a beach somewhere, reading a fat novel.<br><br>‘I'm not really a book and beach-bag kind of person,' he would wince.<br><br>When I step through the door into my own house after time away ‘somewhere hot' - supposedly doing nothing but ‘having fun' - my spirits soar like the lark ascending.<br><br>Such is the costly strain on mind and body of flying that the old saying about it being better to travel hopefully than arrive no longer holds.<br><br>It is often better not to travel at all.<br>A look that says: 'One's not in the slightest bit bothered' <br>True to herself: The Princess Royal during her visit to Windermere, Cumbria<br> <br>Hats off to Princess Anne for: <br><br><br>1: Having never changed her ‘look' or hairstyle (a severe brown updo - let's call it the Gatcombe Facelift) for 50 years.<br><br><br>2: Wearing the same yellow Easter bonnet on a recent visit to Windermere as she did for her daughter Zara's christening.<br><br>She's not a style icon, like her mother, but she's never sought to be one.<br><br><br><br><br>When it comes to being true to oneself, no one does it more uncompromisingly than the Princess Royal, whose face has never looked bothered her whole life.<br>So, the Co-op is placing lads' mags in ‘modesty bags' and Tesco is following suit re ladmagbags.<br>Which seems odd.<br>Why stop there? I'm happier for impressionable teenage girls to be exposed to lads' mags - where the models at least have ‘curves' - than fashion mags, where they just have hip bones.<br>Even The Sun's Page 3 - a throwback that now seems quaintly 1970s, like flares and Spangles and Jimmy Osmond - only uses normal-sized lovelies with fully organic bosoms.<br>Plus in the lads' mags, size 14s abound - even if they tend to be shot in just their pants, bending over and peeping between their legs - and there are no scary shoutlines about beach bodies and your best orgasm ever and so on.<br> Compared with many women's magazines, rags such as Nuts and The Sun's pouters are relatively wholesome.<br>Petty way to punish Vicky <br>It is ridiculous and vindictive to strip Vicky Pryce (pictured below) of the Companion of the Order of Bath.<br><br>She may have broken the law, but she's still an excellent economist.<br><br>This decision makes the honours forfeiture committee look petty.<br> Excellent economist: Stripping Vicky Pryce, former wife of disgraced MP Chris Huhne, was petty and vindictive<br> I turned on Newsnight to hear a woman saying, apropos the outrageous and pathetic threats to rape or bomb several women who have dared to say stuff on Twitter: ‘Men are raised to hate women...we need a societal conversation.'<br>This made me gasp.<br><br>How can women say these terrible things?<br>I agree there's plenty of misogyny about and you should judge a society by how it treats its women, but such statements as ‘men are raised to hate women' are distinctly unhelpful.<br>The police and Twitter are criticised for not being tough enough on sad and angry male trolls.<br>But it is not right that confident women in the public domain are allowed - nay, encouraged - to broadcast sweeping and unfair generalisations about men.<br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br> <br> <br><br><br><br>If you beloved this posting and you would like to receive more info about [https://en.volos-minivan.eu/ATHENS-0000000153-taxi-Trikeri-greece.html taxi Trikeri greece] kindly go to the site. |
Revisión de 05:14 24 feb 2023
4.30am at the airport: I'm beltless, shoeless, exhausted.
If this is a 'holiday', I want to go home! By
Published: 01:57 GMT, 4 August 2013 | Updated: 00:05 GMT, 5 August 2013
</a>
The exotic dateline for this column is the Premier Inn, Gatwick, where I am holed up with four charming and chatty teenage boys and one husband.
The reason I am here is because flying makes family holidays an exhausting, expensive form of coronary-inducing torture that tests us all to destruction - but is nonetheless obligatory at this time of year for those of us with dependent offspring in education.
And in our case - my husband has plane fever - the only way to do it is to overnight on day minus one in the Premier Inn, Gatwick.
Throng: It is that time of year when we join the queues of of beltless, sleep deprived travellers heading for sunnier climes
For tomorrow, ie Sunday, the day you'll be reading this, if all goes to plan, we have to report for duty at 4.30am for our 7am flight to Thessaloniki.
We will join the epic queue of the sleep-deprived - holding their pile creams and pills in Ziploc baggies and wondering whether that lip gloss in the side pocket counts as an offensive weapon - shuffling forward in our beltless slacks and socks through security, and then sitting with nothing to eat or drink for four hours.
At Thessaloniki, in theory, if we survive this far, we will pick up our hire cars and drive for a further four hours to Pelion, stopping en route to do a supermarket sweep for cereal, oil, vinegar, tea, coffee, sugar - yes, all the ‘store-cupboard basics' we already have at home.
As we load the trolley I predict one of us will say: ‘Just think of it as one euro to the pound,' with a grim face, frowning at the price of feta.
Thanks to some congenital disorganisation, I have ended up renting two separate dwellings rather than one - so our party will be split.
I will, therefore, spend my ‘holiday' catering for five hungry males in two different houses - 15 minutes apart in 90-degree heat for nine days, before doing the horribly early start-drive-flight in reverse to get home.
Fun times!
And that's if all goes to plan. And it never does. As we all know, someone's passport has always expired, someone has forgotten their driving licence counterpart, or to print out their boarding pass, and it's all a living nightmare.
So why do we still do it?
Well, actually, there are encouraging signs that this British custom of the August beach hol ‘somewhere hot' is going out of fashion (in America, of course, they have annual vacation of only two weeks and ‘holidays' means the get-togethers at Thanksgiving and Christmas).
Nose dive: Budget airline Ryanair has announced a 21 per cent drop in profits for the first quarter of the year
Ryanair has just announced a 21 per cent drop in profits for the first quarter, blaming austerity and the weak pound, and highly paid industry analysts have concluded: ‘People who would ordinarily have flown to sun hotspots opted to stay at home instead.'
Meanwhile, the airline's boss Michael O'Leary has just announced a punitive £17 hike in the charge per piece of hold luggage for the summer period.
He's even planning to charge for hand luggage too - ie Ryanair is destined to become the no-luggage carrier of choice for those with iron constitutions and bladders - given his druthers, O'Leary would also like to have standing-only flights with paywalled toilets.
Because of all the above, my own expert analysis of the tanking airline industry is this: the reason people aren't flying so much as yore is because we're fed up.
We're fed up with spending two days like cattle in an airport on either side of two weeks in the broiling heat somewhere new.
This is not guaranteed to be either fun or relaxing, especially when it's so nice here and the sun has come out for the first time in eight years.
So, though by the time you read this I have left on my jet plane, I'm secretly with Hilary Devey, off Dragons' Den, who hasn't taken a proper holiday for 17 years.
‘I don't really take holidays, but I did go to Casablanca six years ago - and hated it,' she says.
And I'm with the late Christopher Hitchens, who used to loathe being asked to recommend summer reads as if everyone, come August, without exception, would be lying on a beach somewhere, reading a fat novel.
‘I'm not really a book and beach-bag kind of person,' he would wince.
When I step through the door into my own house after time away ‘somewhere hot' - supposedly doing nothing but ‘having fun' - my spirits soar like the lark ascending.
Such is the costly strain on mind and body of flying that the old saying about it being better to travel hopefully than arrive no longer holds.
It is often better not to travel at all.
A look that says: 'One's not in the slightest bit bothered'
True to herself: The Princess Royal during her visit to Windermere, Cumbria
Hats off to Princess Anne for:
1: Having never changed her ‘look' or hairstyle (a severe brown updo - let's call it the Gatcombe Facelift) for 50 years.
2: Wearing the same yellow Easter bonnet on a recent visit to Windermere as she did for her daughter Zara's christening.
She's not a style icon, like her mother, but she's never sought to be one.
When it comes to being true to oneself, no one does it more uncompromisingly than the Princess Royal, whose face has never looked bothered her whole life.
So, the Co-op is placing lads' mags in ‘modesty bags' and Tesco is following suit re ladmagbags.
Which seems odd.
Why stop there? I'm happier for impressionable teenage girls to be exposed to lads' mags - where the models at least have ‘curves' - than fashion mags, where they just have hip bones.
Even The Sun's Page 3 - a throwback that now seems quaintly 1970s, like flares and Spangles and Jimmy Osmond - only uses normal-sized lovelies with fully organic bosoms.
Plus in the lads' mags, size 14s abound - even if they tend to be shot in just their pants, bending over and peeping between their legs - and there are no scary shoutlines about beach bodies and your best orgasm ever and so on.
Compared with many women's magazines, rags such as Nuts and The Sun's pouters are relatively wholesome.
Petty way to punish Vicky
It is ridiculous and vindictive to strip Vicky Pryce (pictured below) of the Companion of the Order of Bath.
She may have broken the law, but she's still an excellent economist.
This decision makes the honours forfeiture committee look petty.
Excellent economist: Stripping Vicky Pryce, former wife of disgraced MP Chris Huhne, was petty and vindictive
I turned on Newsnight to hear a woman saying, apropos the outrageous and pathetic threats to rape or bomb several women who have dared to say stuff on Twitter: ‘Men are raised to hate women...we need a societal conversation.'
This made me gasp.
How can women say these terrible things?
I agree there's plenty of misogyny about and you should judge a society by how it treats its women, but such statements as ‘men are raised to hate women' are distinctly unhelpful.
The police and Twitter are criticised for not being tough enough on sad and angry male trolls.
But it is not right that confident women in the public domain are allowed - nay, encouraged - to broadcast sweeping and unfair generalisations about men.
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