An air traffic control fiasco may seem satisfyingly egalitarian, but sadly it is all an illusion
It has been wonderful to see the country get its teeth into some nourishing travel chaos this week. Few events in peacetime, other than a penalty shootout, bring us together more effectively. Travel chaos combines several favourite pastimes – pessimism, logistics, transport nerdishness and the chance to Keep Calm and Carry On – into one convenient package. With the pandemic receding into history, opportunities to display the Blitz Spirit are less frequent, so the present air traffic control fiasco is a welcome diversion. Rather than cowering from aeroplanes, we are desperate to get on them. Gathered in airport terminals, stricken travellers swap stories and wait to tell ITV news. “Thousands of pounds… airlines doing nothing… something about vouchers.”
Yes, people have had their holidays ruined. We pity the group stuck in Gran Canaria for a third day, running out of insulin for one of the children in their party. Or the retired couple who have saved up all year for one holiday abroad only to find their plans evaporate in a day. Or those forced to sleep on makeshift beds in airport lounges, worrying about whether they will get back in time for a vital hospital appointment, or a new school term, or a job.
But the travel chaos is satisfyingly egalitarian, too. No Elon or Jeff can pay for private air traffic control. Whether you are hearing the tinkle of cutlery on china in the Concorde Lounge at Terminal 5, or a pneumatic drill in the permanent building site at Luton, the cheese is just as hard. Celebrities caught up in the chaos include Stormzy and Maya Jama, whose private jet wasn’t allowed to leave Greece, Gabby Logan, who chronicled her frustrations with British Airways on Twitter, Christine McGuinness and Dawn O’Porter.
The most egregious story has been of the family who were forced to cancel a £27,000 private jet flight they had booked to take their daughter to Cannes for her 8th birthday. “My daughter was disappointed,” the girl’s mother told reporters, “but what’s made it easier is everyone is in the same situation.” How we laughed: a grander version of the inward chuckle that rises any time you see one of those fools who’s paid for “Speedy Boarding”. You won’t get there any faster, mate.