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This is, hopefully, going to be long.
Edit: It proved to be too long to finish (in an hour, no less) - so the subject is changed and this will do.
We began our journey in the best of ways - being redirected all over the place because there were major building works going on by the long-stay car park (which is about 10 miles from the actual airport - and you think I'm joking). After worrying if there would be a bus in the next hour, and then getting to the right zone to find about 10 busses in a line (we still had quite a walk, because the only spaces left were right on the other side of the zone from the bus stop), we finally actually made it to the airport.
While checking in our main luggage, I suddenly remembered (i.e. was reminded by the signs listing all the crazy things that you're no longer allowed to take flight-side) that recently I'd put fingernail-scissors in my bag, and so I'd better take them out. So I had a quick search, but I couldn't find them. Reasonably, then, I supposed I'd taken them out at some other time. Wrong. My bag was diverted off on the little conveyor-belt, and I was off to have everything wiped with a little swab to test it for drugs or summat, and to have the scissors confiscated, which is annoying 'cos it's rather difficult to get decent nail scissors.
We were having breakfast at the airport, due to my dislike of eating before 7am (well, I believe that times before 7am oughtn't exist, not from the 'after-sleeping' end anyway, and so my digestive system is certainly not going to function before that time). On the table was a little sign saying 'We apologise for any inconvenience, but we can no longer have metal cultery flight-side'. Nail scissors and metal forks and blunt-metal restaurant-knives are deadly weapons now? I detect some paranoia... anyway, I had a toasted sandwich with delusions of pizzahood (it was called a 'Croque Monsieur', and was a toasted ham sandwich with cheese melted on top - most delicious) and my pathetic little plastic fork broke. On a toasted sandwich. Oh dear.
While we were eating, there was an announcement that the nifty little monorail thing that takes you from the terminal building to the departure lounges was broken down, and that everyone else was getting coaches, but KLM and Buzz passengers had to go walk over the 'domestic skybridge', whatever that is. It wasn't time for us to go to the gates yet (as usual, we'd got to the airport way too early), so we paid a quick visit to the toilets. This is writeable about because of the nifty things that meant you just waved your hand in front of the sensor and it flushed the loo, and similar ones to turn the taps on, so you didn't have to touch anything that legions of other nasty germy hands had touched! Cool!
Anyway, by the time that we were due to go to the gates, the monorail appeared to be working perfectly well again, although there hadn't been a further announcement saying that it was working. I was kinda disappointed... I'd've liked to see this 'domestic skybridge' thingamy, I've been on the monorail before. Originally we thought we weren't going to make that particular monorail train, then my parents ran onto it, and I dithered around a bit because it said the doors were closing and to stand clear of them but eventually leapt on just before the doors actually did close. The monorail went fine to the first stop, where there were big clear glass sliding doors - but these weren't the gates we wanted. Then it went on further, slowed and stopped in front of a completely blank wall. As we were still a bit edgy about whether it was actually working, this worried us rather. However, it was all okay as half the wall slid away to let us out into the Buzz/KLM gate section.
Time to take a slight diversion. Stansted does not like Buzz (or KLM, by association). This is because the full name of Stansted is really 'Stansted, sponsored by Go'. Yes, really. The amount of Go advertising is phenominal, there are dozens of Go check-in desks, and you simply can't get away from that annoying little jingle. So they stick the Buzz/KLM flights out in a seperate block, and make you listen to twice as much Go advertising on the way (the monorail is absolutely full of the stuff, and after the first stop plays the Go jingle almost constantly).
On the way in, we saw advertising for the 'executive lounge' - £5! - which we decided would have been all well and good if they actually provided laptops but as they only provided plug-ins we decided to give it a miss, despite the bubbles (clear/frosted glass section of wall, lit internally, filled with liquid with bubbles floating upwards, captured our attention for a moment or two just outside the door of the lounge). We then found a little play-table thing with some lizardy things in a sandpit trapped inside it, which there was meant to be a magnetic wand with which you made them jump - but no wand. So we abandoned that and went to sit and read our books like sensible people.
Nothing interesting happened for a while, until we were on the flight and ordered our snackfoods (we have to have snacks on a plane. they're not actually too overpriced on Buzz, actually). Amongst other things, we ordered a £1.75 tub of Mini Hula Hoops (just about everything else - small packet of peanuts, snack-tube of Pringles etc - was £0.50 or £0.75). It was *enormous*. The volume was about the same as a dozen CD (full-sized jewel) cases stacked on top of each other (that's the nearest source of independant reference of volume I have to hand), and it was absolutely full (a rare event in packaged foodstuffs). We still had some left at the end of the holiday, but I wasn't allowed to bring them on the plane back, for some obscure reason.
It was rather colder in Marseilles than we'd planned for, and raining a lot. Thankfully the airbridge was working their end (it wasn't working on the Stansted end, and my dad almost tripped over the warning line (at tripwire height, but rather bright yellow and black stripes) which was trying to make us skirt around the engines...) so it wasn't too cold. There were the traditional (but still cool) moving walkways, escalators etc, and then there was an enormous queue for Passport Control, filling the whole room that was set aside for queuing and turning into a right mess at the end where there wasn't really room. We had to stand behind a line until the next person walked on from the people.
Thankfully there was a bus waiting when we finally located the stop for the busses to central Marseilles, because it was one of those really heavy rainstorms that France seems to get quite a few of and we rarely get here. We got our pathetic little recipt-tickets and huddled aboard. Eventually we got to the train station in Marseilles and piled off. I was all for heading in the direction of everyone else, but we saw a bunch of taxis (empty, mind) and so parents decided to wait there. Eventually we saw a taxi letting ppl out and went and asked the driver, who said that taxis were one level down in the building everyone had been going into. (There was quite a deserted corridor there we had to walk through.)
At the hotel, because it was raining and we didn't have the right change, the driver spent 10 minutes looking for 20 eurocents, or whatever they are. And we thought, Welcome to France.
Edit: It proved to be too long to finish (in an hour, no less) - so the subject is changed and this will do.
We began our journey in the best of ways - being redirected all over the place because there were major building works going on by the long-stay car park (which is about 10 miles from the actual airport - and you think I'm joking). After worrying if there would be a bus in the next hour, and then getting to the right zone to find about 10 busses in a line (we still had quite a walk, because the only spaces left were right on the other side of the zone from the bus stop), we finally actually made it to the airport.
While checking in our main luggage, I suddenly remembered (i.e. was reminded by the signs listing all the crazy things that you're no longer allowed to take flight-side) that recently I'd put fingernail-scissors in my bag, and so I'd better take them out. So I had a quick search, but I couldn't find them. Reasonably, then, I supposed I'd taken them out at some other time. Wrong. My bag was diverted off on the little conveyor-belt, and I was off to have everything wiped with a little swab to test it for drugs or summat, and to have the scissors confiscated, which is annoying 'cos it's rather difficult to get decent nail scissors.
We were having breakfast at the airport, due to my dislike of eating before 7am (well, I believe that times before 7am oughtn't exist, not from the 'after-sleeping' end anyway, and so my digestive system is certainly not going to function before that time). On the table was a little sign saying 'We apologise for any inconvenience, but we can no longer have metal cultery flight-side'. Nail scissors and metal forks and blunt-metal restaurant-knives are deadly weapons now? I detect some paranoia... anyway, I had a toasted sandwich with delusions of pizzahood (it was called a 'Croque Monsieur', and was a toasted ham sandwich with cheese melted on top - most delicious) and my pathetic little plastic fork broke. On a toasted sandwich. Oh dear.
While we were eating, there was an announcement that the nifty little monorail thing that takes you from the terminal building to the departure lounges was broken down, and that everyone else was getting coaches, but KLM and Buzz passengers had to go walk over the 'domestic skybridge', whatever that is. It wasn't time for us to go to the gates yet (as usual, we'd got to the airport way too early), so we paid a quick visit to the toilets. This is writeable about because of the nifty things that meant you just waved your hand in front of the sensor and it flushed the loo, and similar ones to turn the taps on, so you didn't have to touch anything that legions of other nasty germy hands had touched! Cool!
Anyway, by the time that we were due to go to the gates, the monorail appeared to be working perfectly well again, although there hadn't been a further announcement saying that it was working. I was kinda disappointed... I'd've liked to see this 'domestic skybridge' thingamy, I've been on the monorail before. Originally we thought we weren't going to make that particular monorail train, then my parents ran onto it, and I dithered around a bit because it said the doors were closing and to stand clear of them but eventually leapt on just before the doors actually did close. The monorail went fine to the first stop, where there were big clear glass sliding doors - but these weren't the gates we wanted. Then it went on further, slowed and stopped in front of a completely blank wall. As we were still a bit edgy about whether it was actually working, this worried us rather. However, it was all okay as half the wall slid away to let us out into the Buzz/KLM gate section.
Time to take a slight diversion. Stansted does not like Buzz (or KLM, by association). This is because the full name of Stansted is really 'Stansted, sponsored by Go'. Yes, really. The amount of Go advertising is phenominal, there are dozens of Go check-in desks, and you simply can't get away from that annoying little jingle. So they stick the Buzz/KLM flights out in a seperate block, and make you listen to twice as much Go advertising on the way (the monorail is absolutely full of the stuff, and after the first stop plays the Go jingle almost constantly).
On the way in, we saw advertising for the 'executive lounge' - £5! - which we decided would have been all well and good if they actually provided laptops but as they only provided plug-ins we decided to give it a miss, despite the bubbles (clear/frosted glass section of wall, lit internally, filled with liquid with bubbles floating upwards, captured our attention for a moment or two just outside the door of the lounge). We then found a little play-table thing with some lizardy things in a sandpit trapped inside it, which there was meant to be a magnetic wand with which you made them jump - but no wand. So we abandoned that and went to sit and read our books like sensible people.
Nothing interesting happened for a while, until we were on the flight and ordered our snackfoods (we have to have snacks on a plane. they're not actually too overpriced on Buzz, actually). Amongst other things, we ordered a £1.75 tub of Mini Hula Hoops (just about everything else - small packet of peanuts, snack-tube of Pringles etc - was £0.50 or £0.75). It was *enormous*. The volume was about the same as a dozen CD (full-sized jewel) cases stacked on top of each other (that's the nearest source of independant reference of volume I have to hand), and it was absolutely full (a rare event in packaged foodstuffs). We still had some left at the end of the holiday, but I wasn't allowed to bring them on the plane back, for some obscure reason.
It was rather colder in Marseilles than we'd planned for, and raining a lot. Thankfully the airbridge was working their end (it wasn't working on the Stansted end, and my dad almost tripped over the warning line (at tripwire height, but rather bright yellow and black stripes) which was trying to make us skirt around the engines...) so it wasn't too cold. There were the traditional (but still cool) moving walkways, escalators etc, and then there was an enormous queue for Passport Control, filling the whole room that was set aside for queuing and turning into a right mess at the end where there wasn't really room. We had to stand behind a line until the next person walked on from the people.
Thankfully there was a bus waiting when we finally located the stop for the busses to central Marseilles, because it was one of those really heavy rainstorms that France seems to get quite a few of and we rarely get here. We got our pathetic little recipt-tickets and huddled aboard. Eventually we got to the train station in Marseilles and piled off. I was all for heading in the direction of everyone else, but we saw a bunch of taxis (empty, mind) and so parents decided to wait there. Eventually we saw a taxi letting ppl out and went and asked the driver, who said that taxis were one level down in the building everyone had been going into. (There was quite a deserted corridor there we had to walk through.)
At the hotel, because it was raining and we didn't have the right change, the driver spent 10 minutes looking for 20 eurocents, or whatever they are. And we thought, Welcome to France.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2002-05-07 02:27 pm (UTC)From:It's just insane.
no subject
Date: 2002-05-09 09:06 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2002-05-11 11:47 am (UTC)From:But you're right.