I was heading to Sao Paulo on the overnight BA from Terminal 5, London Heathrow. At the gate they said there was a problem with one of the cargo bins leaking something gooey and the flight would be delayed by 60 minutes to 11pm-ish. I went back to the lounge and returned when called 90 minutes later, boarding to my favourite B747 upper deck seat, 64K (if you don’t know why it’s a good seat, then good, let’s keep it that way).
The captain apologised and said cargo was a non-issue, had been dealt with and we would be under way promptly. At 12.15am I heard some noise from the main deck just as Captain announced: “Sorry everybody but an ill passenger needs to get off and finding his bags now will take some time but we are on it…”
Our 1am take-off was three hours late. Deep into the flight, I got up for a stretch and a cuppa and chat with the cabin crew, who said the ill passenger had gone straight back to the bar when delayed and proceeded to get pie-eyed drunk, to the point that they then vomited across the cabin and were deemed unfit to travel. Then another passenger insisted on an immediate upgrade because they had spied empty business class seats.
Why did this second incident cause a problem? Well, in 25 years of business travel, I have only once been upgraded when on board, so an ad hoc economy to business upgrade (missing out premium economy) just because you wanted one was a tough ask. This passenger then got stroppy and her insistence led to an ultimatum from the flight attendants: sit in the seat you paid for or get off. She elected to get off and that meant her bags also had to be found, meaning a further delay.
In a sense, we were lucky – the crew were three minutes before going out of hours and we also had used up one of BA’s joker cards from Heathrow to allow such a late departure – bless them.
"In 25 years of business travel I have only once been upgraded when on board, so an ad hoc economy to business upgrade (missing out premium economy) just because you wanted one was a tough ask"
Fast forward a week and I was in the US Midwest, again care of British Airways, which for some annoying reason flies to Denver from T3, which is like the Star Wars bar scene, only with less atmosphere. The flight was delayed two hours out of Heathrow for unexplained reasons, but I managed to whistle through Denver arrivals as they have an equivalent system to the biometric version we have in UK passports. All very civilized except I waited 90 minutes for my oversized bag to be delivered in baggage hall – don’t ask – let’s just say, it wasn’t gold clubs.
I had a good series of meetings over a couple of days – since you ask – and was just about to head back to Denver when I was emailed by BA) to say the 7pm flight was delayed five hours until midnight, but with no other explanation? I had a connecting flight the next day at T5, but more of that in a moment.
Denver airport is enormous (the largest civil airport in US apparently for people who still play Trivial Pursuit or is it Pointless these days) but very dull and the shared AA/BA lounge is terrible midwest fare. I thought to while away time and eat at one of the simply nutritious and delicious restaurants, but the entire BA jumbo manifest had the same idea. The flight left the wrong side of 12am. The Captain said the previous plane had been struck by lightning and needed repairing- yikes so much for the Faraday Cage effect – and this replacement aircraft we were on had not been readily available. Meanwhile, I had been automatically rebooked by the BA system from a late morning domestic connection out of T5 to the 630pm option.
I land five hours late at London Heathrow but we disembark at T3 and I march through connections via the bus service only to go through security screening again. As I am already airside and been thoroughly searched by the TSA at Denver, what flaw in the transfer system means I needed to get x-ray’d all over?
I am redlining in terms of red mist by now, but through to T5 by 530pm in good time for the 630pm which has just flashed up as being delayed to 715pm – arghhhhh. I settle into the lounge and watch it get pushed back to 745pm and then 815pm – the rivets are popping. The flight is called to gate A11, which is on the main concourse, so no need to take the hugely annoying B and C gate train. There are so many people at gate A11, but then we are advised of a gate change to A4, which means you get a bus service out on the airfield to the aircraft. I am, to put it mildly, quite tired by now. I get to A4, wait 10minutes and see the bus with the flight details for the 8pm connection on its digital display. I ‘calmly’ ask the BA staff what happened to my flight and they said that it was going from A11 and I am at the wrong gate. Luckily somehow I achieve a zen-like calm, connected to the fact that I know I must have died sometime recently and this is purgatory and must be endured.
I went back to A11 and politely enquired why I had been sent to A4 to be told that guidance related to the 8pm flight, which ultimately departed before my 630pm one did. BA made an announcement to clarify this previous guidance and half the queuing passengers trooped off to A4 grumbling while we waited for the other grumbling half to troop back to A11. Imagine a line dance conducted over vast distance, without music, or enthusiasm, and with luggage, and you’re getting close. I eventually settle down to take my 90 minute flight north. We land, I walk through to the baggage hall and at the conveyor belt get another email from BA: “We apologise, but one of your bags checked in at Denver Airport didn’t make it onto this last flight of the day….” . I went hunting at pace for just about anyone in a BA uniform only to be told there are no staff on duty at this time.
Illustration by Ben Southan
