Flying used to be a glamorous thing, and not surprisingly, the very idea of getting into a giant hunk of metal, blasting down the runway and shooting up 12,000 meters into the sky, before landing down in some hot, unknown destination is pretty exciting. By rights when you walk into an airport the check-in staff should be wearing silver uniforms and salute you upon entry before whisking you off to a giant dome on the roof of the airport terminal, where you can sip gin and tonics and watch aeroplanes take off while the ground crew put your bags on the plane.
I don't think it is possible to make the current check-in situation any less dull and annoying than it currently is. Firstly, you wait in line to be told your bag is two kilos over the allotted weight allowance and you will have to pay the price of your return ticket in excess luggage fees. You look around and see some giant fat bloke who you know ways at least 30 kgs more than you, and he is not being charged a penny, but there isn't time to complain. Next you queue up to have your eyeball scan, strip search and internal examination, all the while being barked at with a series of questions from some half dead airport drone "any liquids?" "laptop in the bag" "phone in your pocket?". You shuffle along the line with you belt in your hand and your trousers falling down thinking of those harrowing photos of piles of gold teeth, glasses and other personal effects left at concentration camps.
In previous years you would have spent the remaining time swanning around the shops, or drinking in the bar, but the security process has taken up all your time and now you must sprint to the gate. Clutching all of your possessions and belt in one hand you run to along trying not trip on your jeans, which are by now around your knees.
You console yourself with the thought that you can spend the entire flight getting pissed for free from a pretty air-hostesses trolley. However, chances are, you are on a budget flight, your flight attendant is called Garry, there are no drinks and that fat bloke from check in sits next to you.
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Yes - I still get a childish excitement out of flying, and it's a shame when the joy and glamour of it is sucked out by number crunchers; I'm convinced many of the budget airlines have been forced to make these soul-destroying operational and design decisions in order to make you feel as miserable as possible, so this way they can't hog the market. ??
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