One of the best things about Ireland is it’s proximity to nicer countries. Michael O’Leary, Ireland’s most excellent entrepreneur of all time, seized upon this simple geographical fact and transformed a little fleet of jets into the largest international low-cost airline, called Ryanair. Thanks to Michael, the Irish have become a well-travelled bunch who sport tans in January and dine in London over long weekends. We’ve used our vague idea that it’s probably a good thing to live like Irish people do during our stay here to justify all sorts of indulgences, including taking advantage of cheap travel around Europe. We flew to the Canary Islands for New Years (pictured here), the French Alps in February and Croatia last week, returning just before airports shut down due to the hazards of flying through atmospheric volcanic ash. We’re following John to Bordeaux in May where he’s giving a lecture, then off to Florence for a few days, just because some friends asked us along. I know I’ll pay a steep cosmic price someday for the polar bear that’s sweating to death right now from all the carbon miles I’m racking up. But I’ll worry about that later. For the time being, I’m happy to be a flying pig, wallowing around in these low fares. Round trip to Paris? 25 euro! Budapest? 19.99! Ryanair travel is a bit like travelling on Southwest Airlines, except instead of landing in Omaha or Indianapolis, you debark in Tuscany or the Riviera. Ryanair keeps the fares cheap in part by eliminating all aspects of free service. Checking a bag costs 10 euro. Using the toilet in the cabin costs a euro. (While they last. Michael has announced that he is contemplating removing the lavatories in some of the shorter haul planes to make room for 2 more seats.) Typically, flights are completely full because Ryanair maximizes profits by savvy routing and passenger consolidation. The seats don’t recline, again to fit in more passengers. So you always feel like you’re sitting in the lap of the person next to you, who may or may not be your relative. Reserving seats costs extra too. Getting groped by your neighbor isn’t as bad as it sounds considering the savings, unless he’s a vomiter. Barf bags aren’t stocked, of course, so you have to bring your own. There are no seat pockets to stow them in, as that would add weight, and require someone to clean them out after each flight. (The cabins are possibly cleaned annually, provided there’s soap left in the lavatories because passengers were too cheap to pay a euro to pee.) There are no complimentary beverages or meals, but you can buy a drink or a sandwich, provided they haven’t run out, as they stock as few snacks as possible to keep the weight of the airplane as low as possible, to save on fuel. The friendly flight attendants smile all the time but really don’t have anything to do except sell these weird smokeless cigarettes that I think Michael invented to keep fidgety smokers calm while the plane bumps around because if it doesn’t land on time a large carrier will have parked its aircraft in Ryanair’s slot. Michael negotiates these really low rates with secondary airports, again to keep costs low, so Ryanair pilots are the ugly stepchildren of the airport scene. The pilot on our Croatian flight got into some sort of fight with the air traffic controllers on the ground in Zadar --something about not landing, no open space yet. The pilot landed anyway and literally stuck his head out of the window to carry on the argument as we were touching down. But he steered us to safety nevertheless, as Ryanair only hires multi-taskers, to save on labor costs. Mind you, I’m not ranting. I really love Ryanair. Sometimes, when I’m feeling naughty, I log onto their site and peek at the fares just to see where I could go for $50 – Biarritz, Bologna, Barcelona. I visualize myself wearing sunglasses because I actually need them … I’ve shed my wool sweater for a tank top… I’m speaking French… drinking prosecco…the fish isn’t battered and fried! The Ryanair site has become my internet porn. I close it quickly when I hear someone approaching and fake like I’m researching persistent pediatric coughing.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Ryanair
One of the best things about Ireland is it’s proximity to nicer countries. Michael O’Leary, Ireland’s most excellent entrepreneur of all time, seized upon this simple geographical fact and transformed a little fleet of jets into the largest international low-cost airline, called Ryanair. Thanks to Michael, the Irish have become a well-travelled bunch who sport tans in January and dine in London over long weekends. We’ve used our vague idea that it’s probably a good thing to live like Irish people do during our stay here to justify all sorts of indulgences, including taking advantage of cheap travel around Europe. We flew to the Canary Islands for New Years (pictured here), the French Alps in February and Croatia last week, returning just before airports shut down due to the hazards of flying through atmospheric volcanic ash. We’re following John to Bordeaux in May where he’s giving a lecture, then off to Florence for a few days, just because some friends asked us along. I know I’ll pay a steep cosmic price someday for the polar bear that’s sweating to death right now from all the carbon miles I’m racking up. But I’ll worry about that later. For the time being, I’m happy to be a flying pig, wallowing around in these low fares. Round trip to Paris? 25 euro! Budapest? 19.99! Ryanair travel is a bit like travelling on Southwest Airlines, except instead of landing in Omaha or Indianapolis, you debark in Tuscany or the Riviera. Ryanair keeps the fares cheap in part by eliminating all aspects of free service. Checking a bag costs 10 euro. Using the toilet in the cabin costs a euro. (While they last. Michael has announced that he is contemplating removing the lavatories in some of the shorter haul planes to make room for 2 more seats.) Typically, flights are completely full because Ryanair maximizes profits by savvy routing and passenger consolidation. The seats don’t recline, again to fit in more passengers. So you always feel like you’re sitting in the lap of the person next to you, who may or may not be your relative. Reserving seats costs extra too. Getting groped by your neighbor isn’t as bad as it sounds considering the savings, unless he’s a vomiter. Barf bags aren’t stocked, of course, so you have to bring your own. There are no seat pockets to stow them in, as that would add weight, and require someone to clean them out after each flight. (The cabins are possibly cleaned annually, provided there’s soap left in the lavatories because passengers were too cheap to pay a euro to pee.) There are no complimentary beverages or meals, but you can buy a drink or a sandwich, provided they haven’t run out, as they stock as few snacks as possible to keep the weight of the airplane as low as possible, to save on fuel. The friendly flight attendants smile all the time but really don’t have anything to do except sell these weird smokeless cigarettes that I think Michael invented to keep fidgety smokers calm while the plane bumps around because if it doesn’t land on time a large carrier will have parked its aircraft in Ryanair’s slot. Michael negotiates these really low rates with secondary airports, again to keep costs low, so Ryanair pilots are the ugly stepchildren of the airport scene. The pilot on our Croatian flight got into some sort of fight with the air traffic controllers on the ground in Zadar --something about not landing, no open space yet. The pilot landed anyway and literally stuck his head out of the window to carry on the argument as we were touching down. But he steered us to safety nevertheless, as Ryanair only hires multi-taskers, to save on labor costs. Mind you, I’m not ranting. I really love Ryanair. Sometimes, when I’m feeling naughty, I log onto their site and peek at the fares just to see where I could go for $50 – Biarritz, Bologna, Barcelona. I visualize myself wearing sunglasses because I actually need them … I’ve shed my wool sweater for a tank top… I’m speaking French… drinking prosecco…the fish isn’t battered and fried! The Ryanair site has become my internet porn. I close it quickly when I hear someone approaching and fake like I’m researching persistent pediatric coughing.
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LOVE this!
ReplyDelete"Checking a bag costs 10 euro. Using the toilet in the cabin costs a euro. (While they last. Michael has announced that he is contemplating removing the lavatories in some of the shorter haul planes to make room for 2 more seats.)"
ReplyDeleteBy "while they last," I thought you meant the Euro, not the toilets on Ryanair, given how things are going over there.
Sorry for the confusion Howard. Hopefully, my poor grammar won't persist. But it's more likely to than the toilets. (I think I have a misplaced preposition in there...)
ReplyDelete