Well I had my first experience of the (now) notorious Terminal 5 at Heathrow Airport yesterday.

Let me just say it lived up to it’s reputation!

It’s a truly spectacular building - huge, open and airy, everything in the right place - just that most of the stuff just doesn’t work!

The initial problems may have been down to shoddy management and kit but the problem now is definitely the surly, unhappy staff who treat their customers with open contempt.

I didn’t hang about on the way in, but on the way back I had a couple of hours to wander about this temple to consumerism. Five floors of tat and “Duty Free” with aggressive sales people who seem to accost you at every stop.

I almost strung a notice round my neck saying; “It’s OK, I’m just looking” after I’d had to fend off one after the other for about half an hour. Poor bastards are probably paid minimum wage and have to earn the rest in commissions. As the Terminal is hardly at capacity they’re probably making fuck all!

I decided to find something to eat but all I could see was Gordon Ramsay’s Plane Food - Oh how I laughed at the witty name - Oh how I cried when I saw the Arty Farty menu and the fucking ridiculous prices!

I just wanted a burger not a fucking “gourmet” meal.

Needless to say it was deserted as I suspect most of the people there were as reluctant as I was to shell out £40-£50 for a “meal”. If I want to eat posh food I won’t be going to Terminal 5 to find it.

It’s amazing, they’ve managed to make a place where you can pay through the nose to be ripped off and humiliated (more of this later) at the same time. Fuckwits.

Of course the place was swarming with the usual twats in suits waving their blackberrys about and trying to look important. What is it about airports? They always seem to be arsehole magnets.

Anyway, time to get to departures. Up to the desk where my photo was taken sans glasses. Onward to security. I take off my jacket and put it in the scanner tray, like a good boy, and the bored security guy snaps “Shoes!” at me. I didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about so I just gave him a quizical look. “Shoes!” he snaps again, “take them off”. Oh, OK why didn’t you just fucking ask in the first place you monosyllabic moron?

I wander through the arch scanner in my socks only to be stopped by an equally bored “security operative” for a frisking. OK, I don’t mind, after all these nasty terrorists are after us, until he barks, “Belt!”. Again I look vacantly at him while it dawns on me that he wants me to take the belt off my trousers! WTF! So he has a good fumble round the top of me breeks and waves me on without another word.

How this is reducing my risk of being blown to kingdom come by a terrorist I’m not sure. I’m more scared of the freaky cops with fuckoff big guns wandering around looking tough and serious.

Lighten up folks - treating us all as potential terrorists is just plain stupid.

So there I am in my socks with the top of my trousers open trying to hold onto the book I was carrying. Thank God I didn’t have any luggage!

This is what we’ve come to. Treated like sheep and humiliated by morons who know that if you dare to make any objection you’ll have half a dozen over-zealous armed police sitting on your chest in 10 seconds flat.

At last, onto the plane and let’s get to fuck out of here. We sit down and I unfold the newspaper. “Welcome on board, ladies and gentlemen. Good news, no air traffic problems. We should be up and away in 10 minutes.”

20 minutes later the captain comes on to apologise, “Sorry L&G, we can’t find the tractor driver to push us back. We’re trying to find another, I’ll keep you posted.” I had to have a little giggle.

20 minutes later the captain comes on to apologise, “Sorry L&G, our computer has crashed (bad choice of words), but it’s not a problem, happens all the time, we just need an engineer to reboot and we’ll get on our way.”

10 minutes later the captain comes on to apologise, “Well, the computer is fixed and we’ve found the tractor driver but unfortunately we can’t find the guy to pull the gantry back from the plane. I’ve been assured that one is on the way as I speak.”

The giggle is rapidly turning into a hysterical scream.

It was surreal, sitting surrounded by about 50 Japanese pensioners who obviously didn’t have a clue what was going on. Much animated Japanese chatter and glassy vacant looks. Of course the BA cabin crew treated them with the contempt we’ve all got used to.

I thought it was hilarious when the pompous woman came on the tannoy and introduced herself as the “Cabin Services Director” aka head waitress. Can you imagine the guy who trundles the trolley up the train being referred to as the “Carriage Services Director”? Shit, he probably is!

At last we push back…
… into a fucking queue of planes waiting to take off.

Fuck this, it’s just not worth it. I eventually get home 2 hours later than anticipated and I, well my employer, paid £341 for the privilege - that and the £15 it cost to leave my car at the airport for the day.

Think I’ll try the train next time…

…maybe not, the rail service is as bad if not worse!