Dear Skyways; You S*U*C*K! :^_^:

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There's not a whole lot to say really. I had packed everything up last night, my bags now filled to the brim with cds and dangerously close to disintegrate upon rough handling. After an uneasy sleep nothing remained than to checkout in the early hours and make my way among the sleepy morning commuters. As another working week begun, my stay was abruptly cut short again. Over at Chek Lap Kok airport I boarded the Finnair MD-11 in short order and noticed that the cabin was only about half-full. No wonder that they had been running their campaign. It looked as if I was going to get three seats all to myself when the last two, and I mean very last two passengers boarded, they were both supersize and had their eyes on my seat row. Why does it always have to be me? As I was about to put my head in my hands and silently curse my luck the purser appeared out of nowhere and suggested they take the empty seat row behind me, and any further trauma was suddenly avoided. The man deserves a commendation for making my trip that much more endurable.

Of course, luck only goes that far, and it is bound to run out at one moment or another. This time, it happened in Helsinki. After an uneventful transfer I got off the plane after some ten and a half hours only to be subjected to the now familiar transfer desk security screening. I always get the thorough search here, and today was no exception. Still, I had an hour to kill anyway so might as well play along in their little game, as they toss everything out and wonder at all the camera parts I lug around. Seriously; haven't they seen enough photographers passing through by now? The screening came to a near halt and the line piled up nicely behind me. It turned out they not only took a close look, they were actually training new recruits on the job. Go figure...

Anyway, once inside the airport I switched on my phone to kill some time and it was only then I realized I was in for a bumpy ride home. A lady from the Skyways airline had called and left me a message, informing me that my departure from Stockholm to Jonkoping was cancelled, and that I was welcome to call them for a reseating at a flight of my choice. Although there was no reason given for this cancellation, they will refer to technical reasons if asked. All of us flying on the Jonkoping route know better. If the durable Fokker 50s really break down that often one of them would be bound to come out of the sky by now. No, instead it is a clever scheme to cancel unprofitable flights to herd the passengers on to fewer planes. Well, if you don't want to offer that many daily flights to Jonkoping, why not simply take them out of the schedule, instead of pissing us off time after time?

I rang the lady. I now had two options. As the 7 pm flight was gone with the wind I could choose between the 5 pm flight or the 9 pm flight. Some choice. I would arrive from Helsinki a little before 5 pm, technically possible to transfer to the Skyways terminal and board the plane, provided that they would be willing to wait for me. Something they have refused to do in the past. And if you fail to arrive at the gate on time, they will not be obliged to reschedule you, so I had to go with the 9 pm flight. Pissed off to no end, we arrived well on time in Stockholm, and I jumped the conveyor belt to grab my bag and ran over to Arlanda Terminal 3. The 5 pm flight was still on the tarmac with its doors open, and with five minutes to spare I begged the girl at the counter to call the gate and ask them to wait for me. After an initial formal refuse she made the call, but noone picked up. They had won. Again. They stuck a 100 SEK voucher in my hand and welcomed me back in four hours. The plane was still standing at the tarmac. My mind was full of interesting expletives.

Four hours at Arlanda airport is taxing. Not only is it an unusally boring airport, but the beautiful summer day also turned the glass corridors into saunas. Spending the voucher on a greasy piece of lasange from the strange smelling restaurants at Sky City was not an option. I stood around outside the main entrance for a while, but that quickly got boring and walked the corridors up and down. Interestingly, several terminals experienced a computer system malfunction, and the luggage check in system was knocked out, leading to long lines of frustrated travellers everywhere. In the end I found the only sensible refuge; deep down in the mountain on the chilly platform of the Arlanda Express train to town. My sitting around got the attention of some of the train drivers, and they asked to make sure I wasn't missing the train downtown. Now there you go Skyways; last time your Captain's discretion was enforced, he gave me the thumbs down. I have now royally had it with your abysmal service. As long as I have tried to do my part on keeping Jonkoping airport alive; I feel that by now it no longer matters. Thanks for nothing.

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Photos

Haven
Seeking shelter from the sauna-like climate topside deep in the mountain below the airport.