The plane landed on schedule at exactly 2.15 pm, which meant that we were all subjected to the ridiculous Ryanair fanfare of smugness that announces an on time flight arrival. Annoyingly it was the only thing about my journey to France that was predictable.
My bus, yes I did say bus, changed it's destination half way through the journey to Tottenham Hale Station - so that it terminated at Tottenham Town Hall, which is a good half mile short of where I wanted to be to catch the Stansted Express to the airport. Bit of a discussion with the driver ensued along the lines of I'm not paying again for the last half mile. To his credit he was sympathetic to my concerns and issued me a transfer ticket for the no 41 that was coming up very soon behind us - who knew they had such things or that public transport personnel actually gave a damn in this day and age (don't get me started on the 'let's have a few days off at the drop of a hat for no good reason' tube drivers).
A ten minute delay and a sprint from the bus to the platform to just catch the train. Phew. No time to buy a paper, or a ticket for that matter but it's only a 45 minute 'Express' journey and the guard would be along to take fares no doubt. Wrong in every respect. The train pottered along at barely walking speed for most of the way, taking 20 minutes longer than it should have done and no-one appeared to make me buy a ticket - just someone rather half-heartedly trying to persuade me to buy a coffee type drink. Er, no thank you.
I negotiated security without problem and just as I was about to be enticed by shopping opportunities that I could ill afford, the gate number popped up on the screen for my flight - I decided to head straight over to gate 44 and parked myself near the front of the non-priority queue. Ten minutes on and there weren't that many people at the gate which is a bit unusual - except if the gate number has been changed on the main boards but not announced on the tannoy - the rest of the passengers were happily assembled at gate 42. When the announcement finally came there was a fair amount of course anglo-saxon uttered in the vicinity of gate 44 which I cannot repeat here.
Remarkably I still managed to get a seat on the front row in the plane and figured I'd be out of the airport and home before most people had collected their bags. Perhaps not. When I last flew to London the front steps on the plane malfunctioned and I had to wait for everybody else to get off from the back door before I could disembark - what are the chances of that happening on consecutive flights? I have no idea but that's exactly what occured. How very very tedious.
My good friend David was at the airport to collect me, which was very kind of him - he was so busy chatting away about what had (not) been going on in Carcassonne in my absence that he drove, on auto-pilot, off towards his house rather than mine - which just about summed up my whole journey.
Showing posts with label ryanair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ryanair. Show all posts
Wednesday, 17 February 2010
Thursday, 6 November 2008
Rain and Reign
Debrah was supposed to go back to London yesterday but fate intervened.
The rain has continued here unabated for three days now and was probably a factor in the car battery being flat when I was supposed to be taking Debrah to the airport for her flight. It was certainly a factor in there being no taxis available immediately, and as we had left our departure until the last minute as ever, we had no room for manouevre.
We retreated back inside resigned to it all and lost a crucial fifteen minutes before I discovered that the flight was running 30 minutes late. I rushed upstairs to Denis' apartment and grabbed the garage keys and we rushed up to the airport in Denis' car. The plane was just landing as we got there, but it was all to no avail - as far as they were concerned we were late for the flight and they had closed the gate and they weren't going to let Debrah on the flight despite the fact she had checked in online and only had hand baggage and despite there being plenty of time for her to go through security and join the back of the queue at the gate (one plane, one gate, twenty metres from security to the gate, lots of people stood about doing nothing - but no go).
I don't know if it was Ryanair policy or Carcassonne airport policy or both but it wasn't a good advert for either of them. We accept that we were late but so was the flight coming in - seems that Ryanair are allowed to be late without consequence (I'm sure there was a good reason) but passengers get no leeway despite also having a good reason and despite it all being easily feasible for Debrah to have joined the flight in good time. Maybe they are only really interested in charging the £75 fee for re-booking than in actually getting people onto the flights they have already paid for.
Actually none of all that surprised me - I've always known that the whole system is geared towards the benefit of the provider of the service and not the person paying for the service - surely it should be the other way around.
The reason that all the above is relevant, and is not just a diatribe, is that we have been discussing the service that we provide here at 42rvh to our paying customers. The debate is centred around whether we give too much for too little cost or not - i.e. should we be going out of our way to provide the best possible experience at all times, no matter the inconvenience, for our guests or should we draw the line somewhere and downgrade what we do or charge extra for certain things.
I make it sound very black and white but it's nothing of the sort and not as extreme as the picture painted, but it is still difficult to decide how we move on next year in continuing to develop the business and the services we will provide and what cost we should charge for them, especially given the economic situation.
In it's barest form the equation is easy - we want to provide as good a service as possible at a price people can afford that also generates a profit. Can we do all three? I hope so.
In the meantime, the relentless wet weather, the unexpected bonus of Debrah being here longer than expected and no guests to worry about has resulted in us getting thoroughly absorbed in the BBC mini-series of the Tudors - all long leather boots, bare chests, loose morals, double dealing and intrigue - and a history lesson too, your grace, my lord, your majesty!
The rain has continued here unabated for three days now and was probably a factor in the car battery being flat when I was supposed to be taking Debrah to the airport for her flight. It was certainly a factor in there being no taxis available immediately, and as we had left our departure until the last minute as ever, we had no room for manouevre.
We retreated back inside resigned to it all and lost a crucial fifteen minutes before I discovered that the flight was running 30 minutes late. I rushed upstairs to Denis' apartment and grabbed the garage keys and we rushed up to the airport in Denis' car. The plane was just landing as we got there, but it was all to no avail - as far as they were concerned we were late for the flight and they had closed the gate and they weren't going to let Debrah on the flight despite the fact she had checked in online and only had hand baggage and despite there being plenty of time for her to go through security and join the back of the queue at the gate (one plane, one gate, twenty metres from security to the gate, lots of people stood about doing nothing - but no go).
I don't know if it was Ryanair policy or Carcassonne airport policy or both but it wasn't a good advert for either of them. We accept that we were late but so was the flight coming in - seems that Ryanair are allowed to be late without consequence (I'm sure there was a good reason) but passengers get no leeway despite also having a good reason and despite it all being easily feasible for Debrah to have joined the flight in good time. Maybe they are only really interested in charging the £75 fee for re-booking than in actually getting people onto the flights they have already paid for.
Actually none of all that surprised me - I've always known that the whole system is geared towards the benefit of the provider of the service and not the person paying for the service - surely it should be the other way around.
The reason that all the above is relevant, and is not just a diatribe, is that we have been discussing the service that we provide here at 42rvh to our paying customers. The debate is centred around whether we give too much for too little cost or not - i.e. should we be going out of our way to provide the best possible experience at all times, no matter the inconvenience, for our guests or should we draw the line somewhere and downgrade what we do or charge extra for certain things.
I make it sound very black and white but it's nothing of the sort and not as extreme as the picture painted, but it is still difficult to decide how we move on next year in continuing to develop the business and the services we will provide and what cost we should charge for them, especially given the economic situation.
In it's barest form the equation is easy - we want to provide as good a service as possible at a price people can afford that also generates a profit. Can we do all three? I hope so.
In the meantime, the relentless wet weather, the unexpected bonus of Debrah being here longer than expected and no guests to worry about has resulted in us getting thoroughly absorbed in the BBC mini-series of the Tudors - all long leather boots, bare chests, loose morals, double dealing and intrigue - and a history lesson too, your grace, my lord, your majesty!
Tuesday, 3 June 2008
Culture Clash
There was a strike by airport staff at Carcassonne airport last week. It co-incided with guests arriving by train and by car and so I was blissfully unaware of it until the whole thing was over - fortuitous in the short term but potentially disastrous in the long term.
Ryanair have taken a very dim view of the strike and have lodged an official complaint with the CGT, the local transport union, claiming that the strike was illegal. The CGT, being very French, defends their members right to strike at the drop of a hat. Ryanair, being a very aggressive European, rather than French, business has threatened to pull all flights out of Carcassonne and transfer them to Beziers and Perpignan. A difference of opinion, no doubt, but one with potentially huge ramifications for businesses like mine and for the region in general.
If Ryanair pulled out it would ruin my business overnight. I get plenty of people arriving by car or train but the vast majority are on a short break from the UK and the flights into Carcassonne make those breaks viable.
The problem in this case is cultural. The CGT are used to dealing with Paris and, over the years, French Government has a history of just backing down and acceding to demands in the face of trouble from the Unions. The CGT think they will go on strike and have their demands met with no further consequences.
Unfortunately, having worked as a Finance and Commercial Director for many years in the UK, I know that British and indeed Irish/European businesses, especially one as aggressive as Ryanair, do not think in the same way as a passive French Government. Strikes are an anathema to the business ethic and will not be tolerated. I have no doubt that Ryanair will be true to their word and pull out of Carcassonne if they don't get some stonewall guarantees as to future conduct, or if the CGT are stupid enough to call out their workers again. I fear the worst.
Not only would the CGT workers lose their jobs and Carcassonne airport return to being the home of a flying school and the odd military helicopter, but the whole region would immediately suffer the loss of half a million visitors a year and the income that they bring to all the many and varied businesses.
This is a clash between socialist France and capitalist Europe - between the defenders of the rights of the workers and shareholder profit, and by default, entrepreneurial spirit. It is such an irony that entrepreneur is a French word and yet the laws of this country so stifle anyone trying to live up to it's meaning.
It is ironic too that we are currently celebrating the 40th anniversary of the 1968 revolution. I have read so may articles from people who were there, who took part, who wanted to change life - and all of them say nothing really changed at all - so much for revolution - when did it ever achieve a lasting difference for the ordinary man and woman (or animal - just read Animal Farm again if you have forgotten).
But 1968 did achieve something in France - stasis. The socialists won the argument then and all of France has been living in their inertia ever since. French socialism has many positive aspects at a local level - equality of opportunity, good schooling and health care to name but a couple - but it has a nation of people content to sit on their fat arses and let the Government pay for them too.
So it racks up debt and nobody can build a business because of crippling social charges and draconian employment laws and as a result, the rights of 30 workers at an airport (who absolutely should be paid a decent salary for the job they do - and I don't think that they are currently getting that) - could completely destroy the last five years growth in this region.
I sincerely hope that common sense descends on all parties, on both sides. In fact, my fingers are crossed, and everything held firmly, in that hope.
Apropos of nothing at all, George W Bush once said that the French don't have a word for 'entreeprenure'. I don't think they have a word for dickhead either, but if I find out they do, I will let him know.
Ryanair have taken a very dim view of the strike and have lodged an official complaint with the CGT, the local transport union, claiming that the strike was illegal. The CGT, being very French, defends their members right to strike at the drop of a hat. Ryanair, being a very aggressive European, rather than French, business has threatened to pull all flights out of Carcassonne and transfer them to Beziers and Perpignan. A difference of opinion, no doubt, but one with potentially huge ramifications for businesses like mine and for the region in general.
If Ryanair pulled out it would ruin my business overnight. I get plenty of people arriving by car or train but the vast majority are on a short break from the UK and the flights into Carcassonne make those breaks viable.
The problem in this case is cultural. The CGT are used to dealing with Paris and, over the years, French Government has a history of just backing down and acceding to demands in the face of trouble from the Unions. The CGT think they will go on strike and have their demands met with no further consequences.
Unfortunately, having worked as a Finance and Commercial Director for many years in the UK, I know that British and indeed Irish/European businesses, especially one as aggressive as Ryanair, do not think in the same way as a passive French Government. Strikes are an anathema to the business ethic and will not be tolerated. I have no doubt that Ryanair will be true to their word and pull out of Carcassonne if they don't get some stonewall guarantees as to future conduct, or if the CGT are stupid enough to call out their workers again. I fear the worst.
Not only would the CGT workers lose their jobs and Carcassonne airport return to being the home of a flying school and the odd military helicopter, but the whole region would immediately suffer the loss of half a million visitors a year and the income that they bring to all the many and varied businesses.
This is a clash between socialist France and capitalist Europe - between the defenders of the rights of the workers and shareholder profit, and by default, entrepreneurial spirit. It is such an irony that entrepreneur is a French word and yet the laws of this country so stifle anyone trying to live up to it's meaning.
It is ironic too that we are currently celebrating the 40th anniversary of the 1968 revolution. I have read so may articles from people who were there, who took part, who wanted to change life - and all of them say nothing really changed at all - so much for revolution - when did it ever achieve a lasting difference for the ordinary man and woman (or animal - just read Animal Farm again if you have forgotten).
But 1968 did achieve something in France - stasis. The socialists won the argument then and all of France has been living in their inertia ever since. French socialism has many positive aspects at a local level - equality of opportunity, good schooling and health care to name but a couple - but it has a nation of people content to sit on their fat arses and let the Government pay for them too.
So it racks up debt and nobody can build a business because of crippling social charges and draconian employment laws and as a result, the rights of 30 workers at an airport (who absolutely should be paid a decent salary for the job they do - and I don't think that they are currently getting that) - could completely destroy the last five years growth in this region.
I sincerely hope that common sense descends on all parties, on both sides. In fact, my fingers are crossed, and everything held firmly, in that hope.
Apropos of nothing at all, George W Bush once said that the French don't have a word for 'entreeprenure'. I don't think they have a word for dickhead either, but if I find out they do, I will let him know.
Monday, 19 May 2008
An Odd mix
We were stood outside, in the light drizzle, at the first street party of the season - rue Aigle D'or, Saturday night - when a Ryanair jet flew low overhead on it's final approach to Carcassonne airport. "Blimey, that's a bit late" was the general view, before everyone got back to the serious business of Minervois wine tasting - the excuse for the party - and dancing and singing along to the camp euro club classics that seem to be all the rage here. The Boys Town Gang version of 'Can't take my eyes off you' was still ringing in my ears 24 hours after. Anyway, enough about the highly cultural Saturday evenings that Debrah and I occasionally embark upon and back to the aeroplane.
In the same way that I managed to misjudge a parking space recently, thus shattering the front offside indicator on the Audi - now fixed again - the pilot of the lunchtime flight back to Stansted on Saturday misjudged the length of the wings and the nearness of the terminal building whilst taxiing, resulting in a bit of damage to both stationary and moving object and rendering the flight non-operable in an instant. I am sure that within Ryanair, the pilot will become known as 'the man who hit the terminal in Carcassonne'. End of promising career.
The flight coming in so late was the replacement plane to fly the poor passengers to London finally - I guess they had spent 12 hours at the airport, which must be the grimmest 12 hours I could imagine - there being absolutely nothing to do at Carcassonne airport. The damaged plane remains here whilst the engineers rushed up from Gerona in Spain decide what to do with it. Naturally, this incident that saw nobody hurt and a bit of minor damage and some inconvenience to 130 passengers was front page news in the local papers, trumping both the vide-grenier (rubbish - literally) and the overnight torching of a car in the poor suburb (predictable).
My late night Saturday was followed by a late night Sunday dinner with guests who didn't want to go to bed and another day of changeovers, airport runs and new guest arrivals today. As soon as I finish writing this I'll be off to bed, especially as my new guests want an 8am breakfast.
This morning's activity was hampered by not wanting to miss a delivery that was crucial to the timing of the renovation works going on upstairs in Denis' apartment. My doorbell is not the loudest and therefore easy to miss, especially if I am cleaning out a bathroom, with the extractor fan whirring away, or vacuuming or just distracted by the noise of the street. Having missed the delivery last week, the delivery company had promised me last Friday that the parcel would be re-delivered before 1pm today - so it was no surprise at all that it finally turned up at 2.50pm - right on French time - clearly the driver had been behind schedule and stopped for lunch and you can't complain about a Frenchman's right to stop for lunch.
Talking of food, Debrah and I munched our way through 3kg of delicious local mussels at the weekend - which I tell you just because I was impressed with our effort - not to mention the hour I spent beforehand cleaning them all.
One set of guests went out to Le Parc, one of our Michelin starred restaurants, for a birthday celebration. Whilst they were waiting downstairs at the end of the archway for the cab to appear, she was blatently chatted up by a passer-by, who said that he wanted to paint her and that she was beautiful, all right in front of her boyfriend. Debrah complains about the same attitude from French women who flirt with me in front of her before giving her a withering look of disdain. Bizarre behaviour.
On the theme of bizarre behaviour, a woman dressed as a banana got off Debrah's flight on Friday lunchtime and a man/woman (couldn't tell which) dressed as a horse was handing out leaflets in the square. The horse was promoting the race meeting on Sunday. I think the banana was part of a hen party and we certainly don't want to encourage that type of activity - thankfully we didn't see her again.
So there it is, the usual mixture of wierd and wonderful, odd and original and mundane and marvellous that makes up a normal weekend in Carcassonne. What's next?
In the same way that I managed to misjudge a parking space recently, thus shattering the front offside indicator on the Audi - now fixed again - the pilot of the lunchtime flight back to Stansted on Saturday misjudged the length of the wings and the nearness of the terminal building whilst taxiing, resulting in a bit of damage to both stationary and moving object and rendering the flight non-operable in an instant. I am sure that within Ryanair, the pilot will become known as 'the man who hit the terminal in Carcassonne'. End of promising career.
The flight coming in so late was the replacement plane to fly the poor passengers to London finally - I guess they had spent 12 hours at the airport, which must be the grimmest 12 hours I could imagine - there being absolutely nothing to do at Carcassonne airport. The damaged plane remains here whilst the engineers rushed up from Gerona in Spain decide what to do with it. Naturally, this incident that saw nobody hurt and a bit of minor damage and some inconvenience to 130 passengers was front page news in the local papers, trumping both the vide-grenier (rubbish - literally) and the overnight torching of a car in the poor suburb (predictable).
My late night Saturday was followed by a late night Sunday dinner with guests who didn't want to go to bed and another day of changeovers, airport runs and new guest arrivals today. As soon as I finish writing this I'll be off to bed, especially as my new guests want an 8am breakfast.
This morning's activity was hampered by not wanting to miss a delivery that was crucial to the timing of the renovation works going on upstairs in Denis' apartment. My doorbell is not the loudest and therefore easy to miss, especially if I am cleaning out a bathroom, with the extractor fan whirring away, or vacuuming or just distracted by the noise of the street. Having missed the delivery last week, the delivery company had promised me last Friday that the parcel would be re-delivered before 1pm today - so it was no surprise at all that it finally turned up at 2.50pm - right on French time - clearly the driver had been behind schedule and stopped for lunch and you can't complain about a Frenchman's right to stop for lunch.
Talking of food, Debrah and I munched our way through 3kg of delicious local mussels at the weekend - which I tell you just because I was impressed with our effort - not to mention the hour I spent beforehand cleaning them all.
One set of guests went out to Le Parc, one of our Michelin starred restaurants, for a birthday celebration. Whilst they were waiting downstairs at the end of the archway for the cab to appear, she was blatently chatted up by a passer-by, who said that he wanted to paint her and that she was beautiful, all right in front of her boyfriend. Debrah complains about the same attitude from French women who flirt with me in front of her before giving her a withering look of disdain. Bizarre behaviour.
On the theme of bizarre behaviour, a woman dressed as a banana got off Debrah's flight on Friday lunchtime and a man/woman (couldn't tell which) dressed as a horse was handing out leaflets in the square. The horse was promoting the race meeting on Sunday. I think the banana was part of a hen party and we certainly don't want to encourage that type of activity - thankfully we didn't see her again.
So there it is, the usual mixture of wierd and wonderful, odd and original and mundane and marvellous that makes up a normal weekend in Carcassonne. What's next?
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