![P05-01-10_21.49[03]](http://viqe.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/p05-01-10_21-4903.jpg?w=300&h=225)
Snow in Edinburgh - picture by Viqe
It is understandable if a city, country is not prepared for a weather that is not usual there or just occurs every 20 years or so, but does it mean that the international airline of that place should not prepare for it?!
Hilarious…or sad…or rather annoying. You decide. Winter is usually cold with not too warm winds and – surprisingly – comes with snow.
As the airline is INTERNATIONAL they could have figured that in most of the countries they fly to there will be SNOW…and ICE…and COLD…and WIND…and TURBULENCE in the air.
I don’t want to find out the reasons why British Airways had so much cancellations as I’m sure they have their explanation but let me just ask a question: How come other airlines could fly to the very same destinations from the very same places? Mystery…
Let me tell you about our trip back from Hungary to Scotland. It’s noon on 10 January 2010 and my husband calls Ferihegy Airport if they know about any cancellations on the route from Budapest to Edinburgh. (It’s not a direct flight so anything can happen). He asks about British Airways, tells them the flight number, the departure time, etc, and they say: NO, so we’re happy and calm.
After lunch I get the crazy idea to check my emails before we head to the airport. Why?! Why did I have to do that? I could have been happy for two more hours. Okay, it’s done, I’m reading an automated email from British Airways saying that our flight from London to Edinburgh has been cancelled and that they are very sorry (I bet).
I start to laugh. The mail was sent at around 1am that morning so the airport should have known about the cancellation but that’s Hungary.
I jump up, make a few phone calls – telling our workplace that we won’t be able to work next day, checking the weather in Edinburgh and London (nothing: sunshine, melting snow, so I don’t understand the whole thing and neither could the rep of British Airways give an explanation), and trying to organize a new flight and accommodation close to London.
Luckily my aunt lives in Cambridge so we know we can stay there if nothing works out. Then we decide to go to the airport much earlier to make arrangements.
We find the right terminal and we also find the representation of British Airways there. Great. The woman is sitting behind the desk but doesn’t look at us. I assume she’s very busy so I just stand their politely and don’t say a word. Ten minutes later two guys come and start chatting with the lady who was just about to go home but realises that she has work to do so she stays.
She deals with the guys first and after 20 minutes turns to me. “Are you waiting for me?” – she asks. “Yes,” I answer. I explain our problem and in the SPEED of another 20-30 minutes our new flight is arranged. Fantastic. We get our new tickets, everything ready so now we can check in. But wait…our new flight details are not in the system; we wait another ten minutes at the check-in desk.
Finally, the lady comes back and asks if we want to send our baggages all the way to Edinburgh. I’m a bit suspicious at this point, not believing that they can manage NOT to lose them as we’ll fly with another company from London and also ten hours later, but my husband says he doesn’t want to deal with luggage at Heathrow so we say yes.
We say goodbye to the family members escorting us to the airport and look for the gate. We don’t find it for the first time but that’s just our blindness…
Fine, we’re sitting on the plane, I’m drinking Jack&Coke (beautiful combination but please NEVER mix single malt with coke especially on a flight heading to Scotland!!!), and hubby’s into Chardonnay. We get off the plane and our long night at Heathrow begins.
We have to switch terminals by bus. Once at the right place, we ask someone where we can sleep. They tell us that we can have long chairs if we’re fast enough but in the morning we’ll have to come back because they’ll have to take our photos (they couldn’t do it then as we were flying the next day and the system is not flexible enough to take this…imagine, we would have confused the cyber bugs).
We go through security, find the long chairs and we settle down like for picnic. The lady told us that all shops close at 10:30pm so hubby goes to buy sandwiches and drinks while I search for plugs. We want to watch a movie but our laptop is running out of batteries.

People sleeping at Heathrow Airport - picture by Viqe
We eat and then I exile myself a few meters away to charge our baby (laptop) and my mobile. I sit there for an hour. Alone. Fascinating. Finally, an American guy comes and we have a nice chat but then suddenly both of our devices are fully charged so I say goodbye and go back to my sleeping husband.
I wake him and we watch the film. Kung Fu Panda. Hilarious. My husband’s asleep again so I try to get some as well. I can’t. There are people sleeping around us. They make noise, they smell (just like us) and there is no other place to keep our bags just beside us. I’m not too comfortable with this…
After ten hours of suffering we get up and go back to the place where they take our photos. Then we have to go through security again (ridiculous), and we get on the plane – finally.
I’m sitting between my husband and a man who’s constantly coughing so I’m praying not to get swine flu on our way home. Once we’re airborne, another surprise comes: though our food and drinks are covered in the price of the ticket, we don’t get any on this plane (BMI), unless we pay for it?! We get so angry and disappointed that we choose to starve and ‘die’ of thirst.
We’re at Edinburgh Airport now. Home again. We promise to ourselves that we’re never ever going to fly to Hungary again only if it’s a direct flight. We wait for the baggages.
We wait but I have a bad feeling so again, I am praying. Just one, please, let us have at least one of our luggages. And we do. Hubby’s bag arrives but mine doesn’t. Perfect. What do I want to do after spending the night at the airport and going through all the aforementioned things? Claim my luggage, of course. That’s what I always wanted to do.
I knew they wouldn’t be able to make it, that it would be too much for them to handle. And it was. The lady at the BMI office is very kind, she arranges everything (I’m not the only one, at least three more people are waiting to reclaim as well), and we go home. One and a half hour on the buses on our way home and since we’re in the city, I top up our Ridacards…
We’re exhausted. We get home, turn on the heating (the flat is cold as Antarctica), take an hour-long bath and go to bed. When we wake up my brother-in-law comes over and tells us everything that happened here without us and we realise that the world has not stopped spinning while we were away.
In the evening I check my luggage on-line and I see that it’s already at the airport. I’m happy. I cook something for dinner and after that we go to sleep. Good night and goodbye nightmare-flights.
(This piece is not a general opinion about British Airways or BMI as we have had very nice journeys with them before; it is merely a bad experience.)
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