Aren’t Airports fun.
Manchester, Terminal 3, 05.50. Oodles of time for a 07.15 flight to Frankfurt. Checked in on line at home so straight through security and customs – what a breeze! Where’s my gate ? Shit ! Flight cancelled ! Pilot sick – no spares. A nice lady took me out through arrivals back to the check-in area in order to stand in a queue at the BA ticket desk where one harassed-looking man was busy re-booking people. Once I got to him, he sorted me out really quickly – to a Lufthansa flight leaving at 06.40, by then 30 minutes away, from another terminal , 2. I only had hand baggage, so run through the airport to Lufthansa check-in. They don’t like my hand baggage – have to check it. Join the queue for terminal 2 security – about 100 yards long. Get hauled out for express lane, clutching my carry-on belongings rescued from my bag in a plastic folder. Scamper through empty corridors to the gate. Board immediately. Get on plane, sit down. Recover. At least Lufthansa provides complimentary drinks and a cheese roll.
Frankfurt – earlier than anticipated due to earlier flight. No fancy boarding tubes here – onto the tarmac and a bus for about 5 km around the airport. Into a terminal – follow the signs to baggage claim – about 3 km, on foot this time. But lo, my bag is just coming round the carousel. Check out the long distance railway station so I know where it is – super, light, clean – but my pre-booked ticket is only valid on a later train so back to the local railway station and pay a brief visit to Frankfurt. Almost all shops between the Hauptbahnhof and the centre of Eurofinance are apparently owned by Turks. Impressed by the huge statue of a Euro sign – so much more significant of Frankfurt’s interests than some ancient philanthropist. Back to the airport for the ICE train to Mannheim.
ICE trains look like they ought to be all first class, they are so swish. But no, I have a 2nd class seat reserved (with a view of a pillar holding up the carriage roof – this happens in the UK too). My e-ticket, printed out at home on A4 is zapped by the conductor who checks my credit card and declares himself satisfied. And the ticket tells me what platform I will arrive at in Mannheim, and what platform my very handy connection leaves from, and it does, on time, and the same happens at Heilbronn for my connection to Schwabisch Hall.
Approaching Heidelberg, I can see across the fields the block of flats CArol’s cousin Bob and family lived in for a year, and from which we could look out and watch the trains in the distance.
From Heilbronn to Ohringen, halfway to SHA, the S-bahn has been extended out along the railway line, giving a much more frequent service.
But this is about airports, and how much I love them. So, pausing only to say that on the way back, when we pulled into Mannheim, there was a choice of 4 ICE trains to the 4 corners of Germany and beyond waiting to leave as connections within the next 10 minutes, back to Frankfurt.
For the convenience of travellers on British Airways, there is a coach connection between the terminals served by the rail station and Terminal 2. Once at terminal two, there are a number of screens designed to confuse the traveller by juggling a set of letters and numbers purporting to relate to check-in areas and gates. The alternatives are about 1km apart and of course I make the wrong choice – so check-in is slightly tight. At least they think of something called “valet service” for my bag which means I can give it to someone to put in the aircraft hold right on the tarmac, and collect it similarly. So, through security and then, because flights to the UK are inherently more likely to attract terrorists, another incredibly long hike along corridors, up and down escalators, round corners, to yet another security check before we get to the BA waiting area. Waiting to get on a coach that is, to take us to the exact opposite end of the airport where our plane is and adjacent to where I got off the train some time and distance before.
And then BA connect makes you pay for your tea and biscuits on the plane.
I love airports.