‘How was your trip?’ Camp asked first off. 

‘Travelling, or more precisely, flying is just not what it used to be,’ I said. ‘It’s a common refrain that I hear over and over, especially in airports.’

‘I suppose it’s true. It’s definitely not the same as back in the seventies when you could smoke on the plane, gourmet meals were incentives to get travellers to book with that airline, seats were generous and tickets were certainly cheaper,’ Camp said. ‘That’s why I don’t go anywhere. It’s best right here at home.’

‘I remember flying on a Jumbo Jet and the upstairs was an open lounge. Also, there was virtually no security. No searches, no stripping down to your socks at the automated roll-cages, walking through the body scanner and practically being cavity searched. Thanks to Richard Reed, also known as the shoe bomber, who in 2001 tried unsuccessfully to blow up a transatlantic flight from Paris to Miami, millions of people have to take their shoes off at airport security checkpoints the world over until this day. Back in the day, the name on the ticket didn’t even have to be your own. I sold a ticket from Vancouver to Montreal to my friend Derek because I didn’t need it anymore and he got it from me for a bargain.

‘I remember. You could also post your tickets for sale in the newspapers’ classified columns.  And you could show up an hour before your flight time.’

‘Imagine that. These days you have to arrive 3 hours prior to your departing flight and after you passed all the checkpoint and security procedures and pointless searches for contraband like water bottles or too big a tube of toothpaste you get to sit in overcrowded waiting rooms. Shopping is reduced to so called ‘duty-free’ shops which are just shiny booze and perfume outlets.’ 

‘I remember the days when there was a bookstore or two at the airport. A Smith or a Hudson News. Now, a few best sellers are displayed between glamour mags and junk food.’

‘Yes, travelling is a different kettle of fish these days. Hours and hours of pointless waiting in one line or another, waiting on uncomfortable seats with armrests so nobody can lay down. Restaurants are twice as expensive as anywhere else. A pint of beer is twelve bucks, a small glass of wine sixteen dollars. What’s with that? I guess we’re all one-time, no-return customers. Let me tell you about our latest trip, from Toronto to Vancouver. Simple, right? Our flight was scheduled to leave at 10AM. We were at the airport at 6:30. Clare likes to be first in line. After we found where the domestic bag drop was we joined the queue for the poxy security, then sat at the wrong gate until we figured out that there was a gate change.’

‘Nothing like relaxing under pressure,’ Camp quipped. I ignored his remark.

‘Finally, we were allowed to board, along with 300 other people. We found our seats, as usual at the back since we don’t like to pay for upgrades or seat selection. I figure we all get to our destination at the same time. We were lucky to find a space to jam our bag in the overhead bin. We had a middle and an aisle seat back in row 38. There were 42 rows on this Airbus which is more comfortable than the Boing 737. We were almost celebrating that the window seat was going to remain empty which would have given us more space to sprawl. It was not to be. ‘I took a s sip from my pint. ‘Here comes the good part.’

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