Flying in the face of Cornishness

Week Forty – eight: Sunday 26 August – Saturday 1 September

Below is a copy of an email I sent to the Cornish paper the West Briton, on Tuesday 4 September, my 43rd birth day. I'm hoping they will publish it next week as an article, accompianed by the suitably sad photo their photographer took of Toni, Kumali and I.

"I moved to Cornwall from Scotland in October last year with my wife and three year-old daughter, originally for one year to study for a post-graduate qualification at University College Falmouth.

Cornish people are so friendly, relaxed and accommodating, and have made us feel so welcome, that we very quickly decided that we would like to settle in Falmouth after my course finished on 31 August.

Before getting down to the realities of life, like finding full-time employment again, we decided to treat ourselves to a family holiday in Spain. It was to be our first holiday abroad as a family, and was to coincide with my birthday. We booked the holiday nearly six months ago in order to secure cheap flights, and have been slowly but surely getting more and more excited about going.

We were due to leave yesterday, 3 September, and set out at 7.30am on our carefully planned public transport route: buses from Falmouth to Truro, Truro to Newquay, and Newquay to Newquay Airport, where we would fly to Gatwick before flying on to Barcelona.

Unfortunately the bus on the last leg of our journey did not get us to the airport ten minutes before check-in closed, as timetabled, but arrived just as check-in was closing. We rushed to the check-in desk, waited for the man in front of us to be checked-in, and were then told, “Dispatch closed four minutes ago. You can fly, but we can’t take your luggage.”

My response was, “But we’ve been here for at least two minutes, can’t you rush as through? We’re meeting a connecting flight to take us to Barcelona. We’re sorry we’re late, the bus was late. Please.”

The reply was, “It’s not our fault. Dispatch is closed. If you want to fly we can still check you in, but you’ll have to leave your luggage.”

Not wanting to waste any more time, I asked, “Can I please speak to your manager or supervisor?”

A couple of minutes later a man ambled down some steps and told me, “Dispatch closed eight minutes ago. You won’t be able to fly with your luggage.”

I pleaded, “But we were only two, three at the most, minutes late. If we’d just been checked in straight away, we’d be on the plane already. I accept we are to blame as we are late, but we were only two or three minutes late. It is a small airport and small plane. Is there nothing you can do?”

The reply, “It’s not our fault.”

That’s when, in frustration, anger and upset, I raised my voice. That’s when I was told I would be removed by airport security if I didn’t leave immediately.

So with my daughter in tears, we left the airport and made the three hour, three bus journey back to our home in Falmouth. Six hundred pounds in air fares and a visa (my wife does not have a British passport) wasted and a first family holiday abroad gone: all because of two to three minutes, and the most unhelpful, unsympathetic and unwilling officious staff I have ever encountered.

As Cornwall continues to expand, develop and grow economically, I hope our experience at Newquay Airport is not a reflection of the sign of the times and an indication of what to expect more often in the future.

Be warned any and all of you who intend to fly from Newquay Airport."