Words: PETER J ROBINSON
Collineige Words: PETER J ROBINSON
H
aving just flown back from France two days prior to my first proper ski trip of the season to attend the wedding of fellow correspondents, Drs. Paul and Lucy Farrow, I was all too aware of just how soul destroying budget air travel is. If you have ever flown in Asia or the US you will have noticed that some of the planes operating are far from in their heyday. Flight used to be about prestige, people dressed for the occasion, cigarettes came with mandatory jade holders, champagne flutes would clink and the
“With a quick wit and a Kiwi passport, she was my kind of guide”. captain might even come and join you for a toast. Now the ashtrays on planes are welded shut, a remnant of a better time. Do you know when the first commercial flight went
smokeless? 1973. Did you know that in 1969 when smoking was allowed on all flights, we put a man on the moon. Now you cant do a damn thing without someone reporting you to the CAA. You have to whittle your old spice down to three millilitres just to get on the flight. Arguably budget air travel is ‘popular’ however, the halfwitted cousin of prestige. It is in no way enjoyable though. No one relishes the idea of boarding a budget air flight. You simply count down the hours and minutes until you can rejoin the populace on the ground. Luckily, I wouldn’t be spending my week