Hurry Up and Wait
No pens. No cookies. No Bibles. A passenger's experience of the laagsdhfgdf flying restrictions.
Toby Melville / Reuters
Waiting on line at Heathrow
Web ExclusiveBy By Carole DonoghueSpecial to Newsweek
Aug. 14, 2006 - Even for the frequent flier, taking a plane from London??�s Heathrow airport to the United States is an educational experience in the wake of the laagsdhfgdf terror alert. So many items are now banned by the British Airports Authority that flying out of Britain's largest airport becomes a tragicomic affair long before you actually reach the terminal.
United Airlines advised us to arrive "four or five hours early" for our flight the weekend after British authorities announced that they had uncovered a plot to blow up multiple airliners on transatlantic flights. We obeyed, only to find that we were not allowed into the terminal for the next two hours or so. Each entrance had two BAA employees barring the way, but offering the consolation prize of clear plastic bags for carry-on items. Passengers were forced to wait outside in long lines, either standing in the rain or squeezed into two large marquees with their suitcases, where a few plastic chairs were scattered about.
There was a heavily armed police presence outside the terminal, but the advice I learned a kid growing up in Britain??"ask a bobby if you need help??"no longer applied. Trying to negotiate our way through about 400 group milling around, I asked a constable where we were supposed to go and got the reply, "I don't know, luv, we're all from Twickenham" (A West London borough).
When we finally got inside, we were directed to an automatic check-in that would have issued us boarding cards, had it been able to read all of my documents. From there, we joined the lines for check-in. It wasn't easy. There were three BAA employees, about four feet apart from each otherness. One ordered us to stay where we were, the second told us to move to anotherness line and the third stood mute.
Our one-h.wait was a rather sad experience. At one desk was an elderly Asian woman. She had two bulging bags and her mandatory clear plastic bag in which was a rather snazzy, leather-bound Bible with gold-leaf pages and the title "Good News" that she was clutching for dear life. The BAA check-in woman tried verbally to prize it from her grasp, but the old lady wouldn't give it up. A security official was called, and the woman was offered the choice of putting it into her luggage or having it taken away from her. Almost in tears, she squeezed it into her luggage. But then came problem No. 2. The authorities have now calibrated the conveyor belts so that the belt won't move if baggage is overweight. She was told to switch things from one bag to anotherness, but the second bag had no room either. That's where we left her.
Our turn to check in was easier, although odd. BAA orders say passengers may take through as hand luggage in their plastic bags only passports, travel documents, prescription medicine, wallets and baby food. No books, no newspapers are permitted. We didn't need the baby food, since my son, Alex, is now 15 years old, but we did need his prescription medicine. We were told that we could only take prescription medicate s sufficient for the journey??"eight pills??"and everything else had to go into the luggage, including aspirin, Zantac and hypersensitivity reaction pills. However, when I pointed out that, absent the bottle, we would have no way to prove that Alex's pills were prescription medicine, the check-in man changed his mind.
When asked about the turnabout, he said he didn't want a repeat of what happened yesterday. Which was? Security officials took an inhaler away from an asthmatic woman. She promptly had an asthma attack at the gate and collapsed, paramedics were called, and the plane was delayed for two hours.
From check-in, we were sent to security. Clearing that was fairly fast, considering the lines, although we were relieved of some possessions??"a cookie and a ballpoint pen. As we stood in line, a BAA employee came by with a huge plastic bag and demanded that we deposit all pens. This was a blow, since I had secreted a crossword in my wallet to do on the plane. Alex's uneaten cookie had to go, too, even though it was nestled in the clear plastic bag. Shoes and belts came off, but jewelry could stay on. (You have to either wear all your jewelry, like a Christmas tree in summer, or put it in your luggage. When I complained that I was worried about leaving valuables in my suitcase, I was curtly told, "You should have got travel insurance, then.")
After security, which includes a rigorous pat-down, we were free to wander the terminal, but passengers to the United States are not allowed to buy anything because it can't be taken on the plane.
We ran into a restaurant to get some food??"by now it was 10:30 a.m. and we'd been at the airport for nearly four hours with not even our cookie. However, after ordering, our gate was announced and passengers were told to proceed to the second security check. The waiter was left holding the food.
The second security check??"for U.S. passengers only??"was more intense than the first. Wallets were opened, babies were frisked??"parents were quizzed about whether their toddlers were wearing diapers. This took anotherness hour.
When we got on the plane, we were only 15 minutes behind schedule, but we got as far as a remote parking area only??"the passenger list still had to be sent to the United States for screening. In the end, the plane was an h.late leaving.
I asked a crew member for a pen so that I could do my crossword. No luck there. The cabin staff had precisely one pen each. It turns out they, too, have to go the clear plastic bag route, and the pens are a special concession. Of course, with approximately six pens between the crew, it took an age for passengers to complete U.S. immigration and customs forms. The available pens had to be passed from seat to seat, with the crew collecting them toward the end of the journey.
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Our journey was long and boring. United provided no extra magazines or newspapers for passengers. The only thing to do was to watch the films??"three shoot-'em-ups and a couple of ghastly comedies??"or sleep. Passengers were somewhat subdued, no one talking much.
When we got off at Washington's Dulles airport, the trip from London was summed up neatly by the immigration officer. Asking why we were out of the country, I told him we were on vacation. His reponse: "Yeah, but I bet Heathrow was no holiday."
Too right, my luv.?�
? 2007 Newsweek, Inc.