Our resident complaining traveller discusses a whole heap of airport bother, bad luck with queues and a scenic destination lacking in modern-day necessity.
Passports, paperwork… and patience
Heading to Europe soon? Better pack your passport, sun cream, and - oh yes - a small filing cabinet. From 12th October, Britons will need to prove they’ve got medical insurance, a return ticket, proof of accommodation, and enough funds, all while being fingerprinted and photographed.
If you happen to say “no” to anything, expect to be quizzed by a border officer. Just what you need after a 3am start and a stale croissant on the plane. It’s all down to the new EU border rules which mean Brits travelling to Europe will face stricter entry requirements.
This system, we’re told, will help spot overstayers. In reality, it feels more like an obstacle course for anyone who just wanted a short break to Barcelona. Officials even admitted they delayed the launch last year after warnings of “civil unrest” at borders. Civil unrest? More like civil meltdown when the queue snakes back to duty free. Apparently, the roll-out will be gradual, which sounds suspiciously like: nobody really knows how it will go.
Do I need to pack a bank statement? I look forward to chaos and sensationalist headlines in the media before it settles down. Here’s hoping, anyway.
Why do I get queues so wrong?
I don’t know what it is about me and queues, but I always pick the wrong one. Supermarkets, post offices, airports - after I join any line I instantly know I’ve got it wrong and then curse any optimism I might have had. Take a recent flight home. After a lovely holiday, I rocked up to what was optimistically called ‘bag drop’. Bag drop! The only thing that dropped was my alcohol level as I realised I wouldn’t have time for a much-needed preflight drink at the bar.
The chaos was spectacular. A lack of staff, no clear communication, and a growing sense of frustration. From there, I shuffled to passport control, which was even worse. Special assistance was meant to fast-track people, but in reality it just looked like a slower queue with a different sign.
And then, of course, security - by the time I made it to my seat on the aircraft, I was frazzled, dehydrated, and questioning why, in 2025, so many airports still feel like an endurance test when returning home from certain destinations.
Maybe one day I’ll pick the right line. Until then, I’ll just accept my fate as the world’s unluckiest queuer.
No signal, no selfies
I recently found myself in the very pretty village of Lacock, Wiltshire where cobbled streets and historic charm abound but a phone signal does not. I found the social media fans in my group pacing around like lost sheep, arms aloft, desperately searching for that elusive bar of reception.
No selfies uploaded, no ‘check-ins’ to prove they were there, and, horror of horrors, no chance to post a cappuccino shot before the foam went flat. It did make me wonder: are places like this missing out on free publicity because of weak mobile coverage? After all, in 2025, nothing is truly real until it’s been shared, tagged, and heart-reacted - is it?
Perhaps Lacock doesn’t care - it has survived centuries without Wi-Fi, after all. But still, a cheeky booster mast wouldn’t kill the atmosphere. And it might save me from moans and groans on the coach journey home.
The views expressed in this column are not necessarily the views of the publisher.
