How I finally learned to stop worrying and love Ryanair

http://www.theguardian.com/money/blog/2015/may/09/ryanair-flight-customer-service-special-assistance

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Both my parents are in their 80s – my father is pushing 90. So when it came to their first-ever flight on Ryanair two weeks ago I was, to put it mildly, hesitant. I’m a veteran of Ryanair flights, having battled the stony-faced assistants at check-in, who appear to cheer up only when my bag tips over 15kg. Then there are the queues at the gate; the scrum for seats; the fight for overhead baggage space; the unforgiving seats in dazzling yellow and blue; the flight attendant miserably selling lottery tickets; and the dash across the airport tarmac in heavy rain to reach the terminal because, I presume, Ryanair won’t pay for one of those arm things that connect you directly into the building.

Could I really put an 89-year-old through this?

I did, and an extraordinary thing happened. Ryanair, and its partners, were brilliant. I have discovered the secret to travelling in first class-style and comfort. You have to tick the “special assistance required” button when booking online. Indeed, the experience is so good, you’ll be wanting to borrow a granny or granddad next time you fly.

After a Gatwick check-in, my parents were met by a representative from OCS, which helps people with reduced mobility through the airport. They were whisked through a special security lane – no queueing or even having to get out of the wheelchair – then taken to seats near the shops and given a bleeper. When the flight was called, the bleeper went off and someone from OCS appeared almost immediately. They were taken to a waiting minibus and driven directly to the plane. The flight attendant helped them up the stairs – they were the first to board – and to their seats.

On arrival in Dublin, the same seamless transfer. “We were astounded by all the co-operation and help we got on the ground and in the air,” says my mother. But disaster struck when, after taking off from Dublin to Gatwick, she realised she’d left her handbag on one of the airport buggies. I urgently contacted OCS, passing on a description of the bag: “It’s Gucci, with Gaviscon tablets inside.” Minutes later I was told it had been found. The bag, her Gaviscon and her rosary beads are safely in her hands.

My father’s now planning his next trip on Ryanair, for his 90th birthday. My mother’s written to Gatwick Airport, praising their staff.

Oddly enough, this week our Consumer Champions column received a letter, also praising Ryanair. “Having incurred so many brickbats over the years, Ryanair customer service’s marked improvement deserves credit,” he said, after a check-in issue was resolved “courteously and efficiently”.

Allocated seating now means the on-board scrum is largely over. Ryanair’s two-bag take-on rule has solved baggage issues. Even the staff look happier, helping customers rather than demonising them for being a few grammes over the weight limit. All in all, I feel a bit like Dr Strangelove. How I learned to stop worrying and love Ryanair.

Not that I’ve entirely abandoned my usual grumpiness – Ryanair still has its daft “Don’t Insure Me” button nestled idiotically between Denmark and Finland on its booking system. Airport parking and train services remain ludicrously overpriced. Why do I have to fish out my boarding pass just to buy a paper at WH Smith? And why, after going through security, do I have to zigzag past perfume counters and Bailey’s pushers, to get into the airport lounge?