Showing posts with label british airways. Show all posts
Showing posts with label british airways. Show all posts

Tuesday, 16 March 2010

A House of Cards

When planning to move, particularly when planning to move country, there is a lot of organisation and administration. Many, many jobs need to be undertaken, often in a particular order. It takes time and effort to bring the whole lot together.

The way we have tended to do it is to create one definite date and then build the move around it. With one definite in place, it is easier to know when things must be done by, what order they need to be done in and you can guage at what stage you should be at which time in the weeks coming up to the move.

For us, the move home is rapidly approaching. I will be flying back to the UK with the boys at the end of March and leaving them with my very brave mother whilst flying back to Bosnia in order to pack up the car and drive our wordly possessions back (if it doesn't fit in the car, it ain't coming). We booked the flights a while back and have since been building the elaborate administrative structures around that definite date to ensure that we get ourselves back. Vets have been booked to comply with the very stringent UK PETS scheme legislation for bringing animals into the country. Favours have been called in. People have rearranged their own schedules to accomodate us. Notice has been given on the house. Notice has been given our UK house. Places have been booked to stay.

And then the workers at BA announce that they will be on strike the day that we are booked. Our flight, from Belgrade, is one of those that will be affected. Our definite just became a hopefully, if you are lucky.

And down tumbles the house of cards.

PS - if you happen to see me, don't mention those poor misunderstood, underpaid, overworked BA staff. I might just spit venom and start shooting lasers from my eyes.


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If that image of a venom spitting, laser eyed shooting fraught Mummy was a bit scary for you this early in the morning, head over to Baby Baby for the most recent Best of British Mummy Bloggers Carnival - there are 70 posts there, you'll find something you'll want to read.

Monday, 1 June 2009

flying with children, flying without them

We're back. 5 weeks break in the UK has whizzed by, but it was time to go home. So we packed up the most enormous number of bags and boxes and got ourselves in Heathrow to catch a flight to Budapest, another to Sarajevo and then drove a further 3 hours to get back to Tuzla.

So much travelling in the last couple of weeks, both with and without the kids, was a stark reminder of how different the whole flight experience is when you are in charge of small children.


1. Inflight Entertainment

Without children - it may have been cramped and crowded mayhem on the flight to New York, but we could read and watch movies (and I did watch quite a few). Bliss. Total, unadultered bliss. I may have been a bit overexcited about the whole experience.

With children - walking up and down the aisles endlessly desperately scanning the faces for sympathetic passengers or anyone who might also have a child. Trying to keep them out of the galley area. A lot of Room on the Broom and Sir. Charlie Stinky Socks stories (with appropriate soundtrack at high volume).

2. Conversations

Without Children - would you prefer the beef or the chicken darling? Which film are you going to watch? Please pass me the second half of the newspaper. Shall we go to MOMA on Friday? Do you think we'll have time to go to the theatre?

With Children - It would be a good idea if you went to the loo now before we got on the plane. Please stop kicking the seat of the woman in front. Don't stand up on you chair. Keep your seat belt done up - and the table up too! Shhhh. Look at all the tiny cars and houses down there. I don't think sweetle beatles live in the airplane wings. Stop hitting your brother. You can't need to go to the loo again. Don't press the alarm button in the loo. I don't know what that button does. Sit still. I know we've been flying for a long time, but we still have quite a long time to go. What about some drawing? I've got some stickers for you. I don't think they want you to put stickers on there.

Then with David, conveniently seated away from the mayhem as the airlines couldn't seat us all together - We are swapping seats. It is your turn right now! No you can't finish the article you are reading.


3. Going to the loo

Without children - whenever I wanted. On my own. In under 10 minutes.

With children - always with at least one, occasionally two in tow. Not to mention any bags which also need to be shoved into the cramped cubicle. Any event accompanied by a commentary informing the whole of the ladies that Mummy has just done a wee. Inevitably an attempt is made to open the door, leaving Mummy exposed with trousers around her ankles. Once or twice they have a success. Inevitably there is some water spraying around the sinks, soap splashed all over the place and then a fight over who is going to put their hands in the dryer first.

4. Waiting at the terminal

Without children - time for an elegant, relaxed coffee. Possibly with paper. Able to move fast when the flight is called. Even if we are still horrendously late for the flight, we can still peg it to get there on time.

With children - impromptu wrestling match and lots of running around as I try to exhaust the activity impulses for a few hours. Rolling around on the floor always attracts disapproving looks from other adults, although those with children often join us. Have to move as soon as the flight is called and we will still be the last there as Luke will inevitably be drawn to some rubbish bin and have to be prized away screaming. If they make us take our shoes off, at least one shoe will disappear for some time and at least one child will make a break for it whilst I am trying to put my shoes back on.

5. Food

Without children - it arrives, we eat it with a glass of wine or so, have a coffee afterwards. Not the greatest meal I've ever had but not the worst either. All is well.

With children - it arrives. They take one bite and hate it. I don't blame them for this, airlines do insist on providing absurdly strongly flavoured cheese and onion sandwiches which kids are never going to go for. They do eat the chocolate thing provided though and then go a bit nuts. I try to cram some apples into them, or maybe a prepacked sandwich but they don't go for this. It leads to a day of appalling eating and stomach aches later.

6. On arrival

Without children - thanking everyone that we don't have kids with us, we wait patiently in the immigration queue. Once through, pick up luggage and decide to catch the subway into the city as there is horrendous traffic. Proceed smoothly with no problems.

With children - children, released from sitting down quietly, race around like demons, respecting no queue or the immigration desks. Just as we get to the front, one will need a wee really desperately and we will have to negotiate vaguely keeping our place. Contemplate getting the bus back home to Tuzla. This will mean getting taxis (notice the plural, we were never going to be able to get all our stuff into one taxi) to the bus station and then a 3 hour bus ride. Abandon idea rapidly and rent a car instead.


We're pleased to be back home, and actually the journey back wasn't as bad as it could have been. However, we're not about to repeat the experience anytime soon and I need a holiday to recover.

Friday, 24 October 2008

So long direct flights to London...

Arrrggghhhhh - BA have just flown their last direct flight to London. From now on, if we want to fly from Sarajevo to the UK we need to go via Budapest (a very nice city but the wrong direction) or Vienna (apparently very nice, but never been so can't really comment). Alternatively we can drive to Zagreb - a cool 6 hour bus ride, always fun with 2 small children - or trundle into Belgrade, not as far as Zagreb but bus connections are a nightmare. Neither city is in Bosnia.

Not sure when I shall have the energy to brave the 2 toddler journey back to the UK. The direct flight option nearly killed me last time. The thought of complicating the journey is not one that I relish.

As an aside, Granny decided that it would be a waste not to make the most of the direct flights and has been hanging out in Tuzla for the last couple of days. The boys have loved having her around, as have I. Back to the grindstone tomorrow...