Wednesday 11 April 2007

Losing my virgatory

Flying Virgin - welcome to purgatory.

We flew cross country on Virgin, and I'll never make that mistake again. Yes, the tickets were cheaper than Qantas, but then goats piss is cheaper than beer and I choose to drink beer.

Where do I start?

The root cause is Virgin's desire to be a particularly hip and youthful airline. That's great if you are a hip 21 year old flying from Sydney to Melbourne for a bit of weekend clubbing, but it's a bit of a drag if you are a family with two kids that just wants to survive a coast to coast holiday. Especially when the rear third of the plane is stuffed with people like you - families with one to three kids in tow, mostly under the age of 5.

Kids over the age of 5 aren't too hard to deal with - give them a colouring-in book and some pencils, or even better, a multi-channel in-flight entertainment system, and they are set. Kids under that age are more of a problem - particularly those under 2. They don't understand the need to be strapped in for takeoff and landing, and they don't want to sit down while the hosties are pushing a trolley full of meals and drinks up and down the aisle. In short, they are a nightmare to fly long distance with.

All that can be remedied though with a bit of thought. We flew back with Qantas, and the flight was a dream. For starters, Qantas used a jumbo, which had more legroom, more seats and more bulkheads against which to stick families up against. It also has a row down the middle of the plane with 4 seats across, which is magic for families with kids. It also had seatback screens in every seat, which made flying the entertainmentless Virgin look very much like catching an old STA bus to Muckinboodin with little more than an old drunk with a guitar and harmonica for diversion.

Qantas also feed you, which helps. Virgin does as well (if you pay more), and after I read the list of ingredients on the thing that I bought, I will not be buying any more. I would prefer to eat 9 quarterpounder meals from McDonalds than face another Virgin "meal".

The biggest problem though was the hosties. In the quest to be young and hip, Virgin have solely recruited young and hip hosties. They look great in ads, and I am sure they look great in nightclubs, but the are completely out of their depth with kids. They just have no idea, mainly because they don't have any. I discovered that only one hostie on our flight was a mum, and she seemed to be trying to keep that a secret from the other staff in case they ganged up on her and got her fired for being a breeder. How old fashioned! Spocking out sprogs! Don't want to fly with her, thanks very much.

The looks of disdain and "why did I get rostered onto this flight" were legion. I'm surprised that none of the kids were rundown by an enraged hostie pushing a large trolley. They just didn't get it - all these mewling, screaming, dribbling, fighting, yelling, vomiting, pooing rugrats. And I bet they signed up thinking they'd be carting Ralph Fiennes around the sky....

Qantas on the other hand, got it. They had a high percentage of old boilers on the flight, plus a good smattering of asian hosties. They seemed to dote on the kids, probably because they all had a few themselves.

Screw you Branson, I'm going Qantas from now on.

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