Heathrow is Still A Shitshow

 

I’ve never had a single good experience here. I’ve flown in and out of Heathrow multiple times over the past few years. Apart from my home airport of Brisbane, it’s the one I’ve visited the most often even though I’ve done my utmost to avoid it.

Tonight is no exception. I started my flight from Brisbane International in a wheelchair. At the airport, I was taken care of by Cathay Pacific staff. I was informed what was going to happen. I arrived very early so was taken to a lounge area where I could lay down. My flight was 55 minutes after midnight.

I scored the best seat in economy class so I slept most of the 8 hour flight to Hong Kong. At Hong Kong, I was collected at the plane with a wheelchair and taken all the way through to my departure gate. It was exhausting for my lovely Chinese carer aka pusher so she sat down beside me to catch her breath. We sat mostly in silence apart from me showing my appreciation with “shay shay” the only Cantonese I know. She was repeating it to me minus the “h” sound. I digress. Just pointing out my brilliant experience in Hong Kong.

After Lord knows how many hours (scheduled 14 hours 40 minutes), our flight arrived 35 minutes early. On landing, I was thinking “Great! I’ll get to my guesthouse before the 10pm lockup.”

But they had forgotten all about me! I was left alone on the plane with the cleaning staff for company.

A lovely Cathay Pacific hostess phoned someone and asked for a wheelchair on my behalf. So I waited on the plane. She waited with me. Eventually, she walked with me to the top of the airbridge, where a lady arrived with a wheelchair complaining this wasn’t part of her duties and now she’d be 10 minutes late. She dropped me off to a waiting people carrier where room was made for me to sit in the back with the luggage. I’m not complaining – we were going places.

Whizzing along wide corridors, I noticed how down-at-heel Heathrow looks. Remember I’d just come through Hong Kong Airport which was immaculately clean and beautiful.

Eventually we were all dumped with about twenty other people, in an in-corridor waiting area. One Heathrow staff member collected my boarding pass and I sat down to wait and wait and wait. Because of the delay in getting off the flight, I was the last in a long line. Names were called one by one each time a single wheelchair arrived. I was starting to panic. I was also busting to go to the loo.

I went up to the counter and asked its whereabouts. I wasn’t allowed to leave my backpacks so had to carry them down the longest ever corridor. It may have seemed longer than it was because by this stage I was walking cross-legged. I almost made it.

Fortunately there was a moving walkway going back up the corridor – would have been nice to have had one going down. When I arrived back, the waiting room had emptied but for the guy behind the desk chatting to a woman with a wheelchair! Yay!

She loaded me in and within a few minutes had me through security and customs and out the doors to a taxi.

This should have happened more than an hour ago. I waited one hour and forty-one minutes for my wheelchair ride. I could have crawled faster than that!

At one stage, I even asked if I could walk it but after sitting for 14 hours, I was not in a good place physically. I probably would have fallen as the way to security was all downhill and not a gently sloping ramp. I was pleased I had an accomplished wheelchair pusher who didn’t lose her grip.

I could tell you of all my past experiences at Heathrow – none of them good – but if I did, you’d never want to come to England. All I’m saying is, if you have a choice, choose Gatwick or Luton Airports, both of which passed with flying colours.

Thank heavens I don’t have to come back to this godforsaken hellhole.

I’m flying home to Australia from Vienna!