Passengers Behaving badly – Concorde

I really have been a very lucky man in that I have flown Concorde at least a dozen times. During those flights I encountered many strange and downright surreal moments but none that had the same impact as one flight from Barbados to London.

We were coming towards the end of a two week holiday when the phone call came. It was BA and they asked us if we would possibly mind flying back two days early as one of their jumbos had technical problems creating an enormous backlog of passengers needing to get home. They had decided to offer ‘selected’ travellers the chance of returning earlier using spare seats on their daily Concorde service.

My wife Judith was not amused by the proposed shortening of our holiday but Anna (our daughter) rightly realised that this might be the one chance in her lifetime to fly on this beautiful aircraft so we agreed. Our decision was also helped by the fact we were on agent discount tickets which meant it was practically certain we would be the first to be chucked off our booked flight anyway!

Having decided to make the most of it we arrived at Bridgetown airport in plenty of time to enjoy the lounge and board the flight. At the risk of sounding snobbish we could not believe the state of the people in the departure lounge who were presumably waiting for a charter flight. They were noisy and mainly drunk with numerous wild kids that were left to run amok throughout the building. It was one of those groups you sometimes see and thank your lucky stars they were someone else’s problem. We retreated to the first class lounge and hid until our flight was called.

Finally they announced boarding and off we went to the aircraft. The place was still bedlam as the rampaging hordes had been tanking up on duty free spirits but we got through most of them by the time we found our gate. We stopped and waited but felt more and more uneasy as the near rioting holiday makers started lining up behind us. We then realised that these folk had received the same phone call from BA and were coming with us. It seems the only folk prepared to give up a day or two of their holidays were those on the cheapest packages and agency/airline staff.

The looks on the cabin crews faces was a picture. There was Concorde, the ultra first class flagship of the BA fleet. The aircraft of choice of film stars, diplomats, and captains of industry. And it was filling up with drunks, delinquents and rapacious souvenir hunters that were totally committed to wringing every last benefit of their once in a lifetime trip.

We roared off into the sky and the fun started almost immediately. Practically every stewardess call button was pressed simultaneously and all you could hear above the engines was the staccato calls of drinks orders and the yells from children as they ran up and down the aisle. One of the stewardesses started crying saying she had been groped and the bonafide Concorde passengers squeezed themselves as far forward as possible abandoning two thirds of the aircraft to the mob. There they were being taunted by a bear of a man with a huge stomach and a torso decorated by tattoos and a string vest with no armpits. He was waving a bottle of Dom Perignon champagne by the neck whilst demanding they sing with him.

The next parts of the plane to be hit were the toilets. Some small child started a trend by graffitiing the walls with rude drawings and badly spelt words . He had a huge imagination. They and the rest of the cabin were stripped of anything that was not firmly attached including some seat upholstery and life jackets. It was an absolute nightmare that was only slightly relieved when the captain threatened to have them all arrested on arrival. It was something I have never witnessed before or since but I found out afterwards that they were not a random crowd but in fact a large wedding group returning home. No wonder they all looked like each other and gelled so well! I understand the aircraft had to be taken out of service after for a few days.

My other trips on Concorde were far less eventful. The only thing I particularly noticed was the slightly inquisitive and smug way passengers used to look at each other. Almost like a very exclusive mainly new money club. I did have one more funny moment when I was waiting outside one of the small toilets. They really were tiny and I could hear someone manoeuvring clumsily inside. Finally the door opened and a man came out. I was halfway in when I noticed there was a woman still in there arranging her clothes. I had heard of the ‘mile high’ club before but not the ‘stratosphere’ version.

It was a wonderful aircraft and I wish it was still flying

Brushes with the rich and famous 3 – Naomi Campbell

What with all the recent publicity about the lovely Naomi I thought I should award her an exclusive in my humble blog. Like those wonderful cosmetic advertisement ‘She’s worth it’.

I have flown with Naomi three times and got hugged by her once. Not bad averages really, especially as she was in her pyjamas at the time. Let me explain.

The first two times I saw her were on Concorde (naturally). There I was sitting at the back of the cabin with one of the only two remaining empty seats next to me. The flight was clearly being delayed for someone and suddenly she was there. She glided through the door flowing along with tight pants and a sheer silk blouse that left zero to the imagination. You could have heard a pin drop as she sasheyed further towards me and I thought ‘oh my, she is going to sit next to me. At the very last moment she gave me what I then thought was a shy and coquettish smile and……walked straight past. Behind her was an enormous Texan with a gut like a zeppelin who levered himself into the seat next to me, smiling knowingly saying “I guess this ain’t your day son”.

I have to say though Ms Campbell was sensational in that she is one of not too many that looks far better live than she does on the cover of a glossy magazine. She also seemed to have a skill that turns tough international business travellers into fawning lap dogs. “Do let me get your bag off the carousel Ms Campbell”, Let me help you with that Ms Campbell” “Where are you staying in New York Ms. Campbell”. And that was only me. The other passengers were far worse! My last view of her on that occasion was seeing this vast luggage belt with all the male Concorde passengers plus Naomi jammed in one small area as they all vied to carry her Louis Vuitton overnight bag.

My last brush with Naomi was really weird. I was sitting in seat 1A on a flight to Sao Paulo and just before the doors closed I was asked if I would move back a seat to 2A. Reason given was they had a VIP boarding and she always insists on 1A so as not to be bothered by anyone. Being an amiable soul I agreed to move and on wafted the lovely Naomi once more and plonked herself in my ex seat. She then proceeded to talk simultaneously on two phones and a blackberry while we taxied to the runway. She was finally asked to stop by a rather wary air hostess as the engines revved for take-off.

Once in the air she was straight in the toilet and emerged about 20 minutes later dressed in a pair of those grey BA first class pyjamas and a face covered in cream. On any one else it would have appeared awful but on her she looked 1 million dollars. I guess that is why she is still one of the world’s top models. She would make a potato sack look classy.

She obviously planned to go straight to sleep and, as I had a flight load of work to do, I popped round to her side and asked if the light would bother her. She reacted as if I had poked her with a cattle prod by recoiling back, muttering something incoherent and looking the other way. Having faced that apparently hostile response I slunk back to my lonely seat and grappled out my PC and spent the next four hours preparing numerous emails about very little.
Suddenly something changed. I could see a dark grey shadow moving towards my small pool of light preceded by the smell of a heavenly and expensive perfume. It was Naomi. Next thing I had been grabbed and clutched to her bosom. Am I hallucinating I wondered? Should I have stopped at two brandies after dinner? But no, it really was Naomi Campbell suffocating me in a most original but not entirely unpleasant way. She finally released me and said huskily that I had been very nice to her earlier on and “thank you”. Wow I thought, maybe some sections of the media were wrong about her and she was a sweet thing really.

I drifted off to a perfumed sleep and woke on the final approach to Sao Paulo. What woke me were Naomi’s phones, all of them, and she was going ballistic at some poor soul on the other end of one of them. She was demanding to know where he was, who he was with and threatening to get the next plane home. This was before her flight in had even landed and none of the crew seemed inclined or brave enough to tell her to stop.

We got to the gate and set off for the baggage hall. By this time Naomi was screaming at people demanding her bags NOW so she could check in for the return flight. The fuss she created was so great that security was called and I beat a hasty retreat through customs.

The next morning I was having breakfast and listening to the news when her name came up again. The newsreader was saying how Naomi Campbell had collapsed apparently ill at Sao Paulo airport and was rushed to a Brazilian hospital to have an emergency cyst operation. So that is what it was all about I thought. Or was it? Life is never boring when flying with Naomi Campbell.