Starting out

The starting point for most cruises I do is Southampton, as I get older I have become more and more anti flying. I find airports are set up to be anti-people, the hassle of the check in after negotiating the rat maze that they make you preform in, even though there is hardly any queue in front of you, I think it’s all part of the plan to de-humanize the process, this coupled with the ubiquitous luggage trolley that has a mind of its own, never will I complain about Tesco shopping trolleys again. When you make it to the check in point and start dealing with the human face of the airline company, usually about as friendly as a Rottweiler asking you safety questions she has repeated thousands of times with as much enthusiasm as a nun selling condoms. You finally put your luggage on the scales and look at the display to see if you got it right with the bathroom scales, only to find they are three kilos out and you are left with the option of repacking and putting on extra clothes and looking like the Pillsbury dough boy or pay £36 for the extra weight as if this was not bad enough you have to squeeze your flight bag into the measuring  device to see if you can take it on board. Then you have to run the obstacle course of abandoned luggage trolleys that have been left in relief of completing part one of the labours of Hercules. Task two security screening, getting rid of all liquids over 100 mils, then once through you can go to W H Smith and buy a 1.5 liter bottle of water for the flight! Empty out your pockets, take off shoes, belts, watches, jewelry and any other article likely to set the machine buzzing, but some how you still manage to set it off, stand by to be frisked and prodded then to be declared clear and made to walk through the scanner again, once again setting off the bells and whistles thereby requiring a further second opinion frisk and still finding nothing, only to be told we have been having trouble with that one all day, it’s ultra sensitive. At this point all the other passengers are looking at you like you are a cross between Carlos the Jackal and the Village Idiot. Stage 2 complete, so you start to make camp in duty free and then within seconds of  making camp you get the call to go to your departure gate, which is a half marathon away from your present location, so the migration of the wildebeest begins along moving travelaters that are broken and the gate happen to be in the furthest corner of the airport. (Do gates 1 & 2 exists, has anyone ever used them?) They then check your passport and ticket again sit you back down, then you guessed it call your row number to board the aircraft and invariably yours is the last number called. I won’t even bother to regale you with what happens at your destination airport. As opposed to Southampton, arrive outside the cruise terminal, someone lifts out your overweight case and whisks it away, the next time you see it is outside your cabin door. You have priority boarding and within 15 minutes of arriving you are in your cabin ready to set sail. No contest.