I wrote a couple of weeks ago about how Aer Lingus may re-join oneworld. Readers commented how it’s not ready – they were right, I was wrong.
Booking System
I covered in another post that other carriers can book Aer Lingus flights easier through codeshare agreements in their own loyalty programs than Aer Lingus can on its own system. Using British Airways Avios system as its currency, British Airways can easily book connections or break up awards if guests want to extend their stay in a given city since each flight is individually purchased. The site also simply shows an error page if there are insufficient seats available which makes it unclear if the website is malfunctioning, the flight doesn’t exist, or if there simply aren’t any award seats.
This all seems to be a small concern in the greater context of reasons an Aer Lingus’ oneworld membership is not currently a good fit.
Check-in
Fresh off the heels of the
American Airlines/Aer Lingus reciprocity announcement, I was thrilled to strut my Aadvantage Platinum Pro ass to the check-in counter. Business class was a wide open lane, coach was rammed, the counter agent asked shouted three times to confirm we were in business as we made our way down.
I offered to show my American Airlines membership status (we were over by one bag for our disjointed itinerary) she didn’t look up. She began to print our bag tags but it was only to Dublin.
As mentioned above, Alaska Airlines is capable of booking one through connecting ticket with points on Aer Lingus but Aer Lingus is not. The agent on the phone said she can’t marry the tickets but the airport can, it happens all the time, and they will be tagged through to our final destination.
“You’ve booked separate tickets.”
“Yes, because the website won’t ticket a connection. Phone support said you can marry them at the airport.”
“No. We cauhnt. Only they cauhn.”
“So you can see both flights but can’t marry them and we need to enter Ireland, claim bags, re-check, clear security again, and US Customs in under two hours?”
“Yes.”
I knew this was a possibility when we booked it and we are always prepared for the worst case scenario so it wasn’t a problem, but this was not a oneworld worthy experience. There’s, of course, a spectrum ranging from someone being pleasant, being factual, and being rude. I’m not prepared to say she was being rude but I don’t think she would have been very happy if I matched her tone in my responses.
“There’s a non-stop to New York, are there any seats there? Maybe we can move to that.” I was prepared to pay any APD differences just to reduce our stress, workload, and risk.
“Let me call over there and see.” Great, thank you. She stared at me and then motioned to get out of line.
“Should we wait here while you ring them?” I asked.
“No, I said you cauhn call them. I’m not calling anyone.” Lovely.
“Are there seats available on that flight?” A couple of keyboard clicks, eyebrows elevate.
“Yeah.” It was clear the flight was fairly open.
“In business?”
“No. Business is full.” That was a hard pass only because I just couldn’t be bothered to switch everything around on the phone and then risk Sally Sunshine assigning seats for us in an area we were crammed by a bathroom with our infant son. Maybe the flight being fairly open was really just in middle seats randomly. We had already prepared for the disjointed connection, we might as well see it through.
She handed the passports back with luggage tracking tags and sent us on our way.
“Can we have our boarding passes, please?”
“Didn’t you check-in online?” We did but it hadn’t output a digital copy. We didn’t print anything at the hotel, and why would we when we had to check bags in anyway?
“He’ll have to print it for you.” Sally said and moved us to another counter where he began printing our passes. She moved on to the person behind us before we had the chance to move our first bag.
“Business class? Business class? Business class? Sir, are you special services” she shouted to the elderly man struggling with English behind us fumbling to get out his passport. We walked away trying to recall another oneworld carrier this reminded us of.
A RyanAir By Any Other Name
We made it through security, another horror show. Manchester updated security for Terminal 2 which leaves everything in your bag, and everything on your person, for a painless experience. Terminal 1 (I can’t speak for T3) continues with the policies and procedures enacted at the very height of post 9-11 fears. The only airport I’ve ever been to more meticulous than a UK airport that hasn’t updated its security apparatus in a decade
is this one in Jackson, MS.
The kids enjoyed a play area near a Starbucks inside the airport and I was going to grab some sandwiches for the short flight over, but the boarding indicated not only “Go To Gate” but “Boarding”. Eek.
We rounded up our things, ripped my son clawing for the slide as he burst into tears at our departure.
We walked briskly through the airport to our gate only to find a line stretching from the ground floor up the stairs where we waited with a stroller, a toddler, and all of our things. We made our way down the stairs one-by-one and into a lower boarding area where Sally Sunshine awaited us again. She scanned our boarding passes and we squeezed into the two remaining chairs together.
I looked outside our shared prison cell to see our plane had just arrived with air stairs being moved into place. The plane that was “boarding” had not even begun disembarking. Later, I captured a photo through the fenced windows of inbound passengers being loaded onto buses to transport them to the terminal we were in, ten feet from the forward air stair.
Prison-style “boarding”
A green slime mess was not contained inside the yellow tape, I wonder what I was scraping off my shoes.
It’s not just the RyanAir tradition of parking at a gate only to walk down the stairs, walk outside and walk back up air stairs (made much more complicated in the winter with an infant, folded stroller, and carry-ons). It’s not just the “openly lie to customers to move them into a contained area” boarding call. It’s not just the unnecessarily unfriendly service at check-in and then “do it yourself” approach. It’s all of it and more.
No time to clean the gum out of the back seat pocket.
Conclusion
The long haul experience is a different story but for many oneworld flyers, it’s a tale of two Aer Lingus’. However, for American Airlines or Alaska Airlines flyers that may be making connections from the States, or eventually premium flyers from Asia (should Japan Airlines or Cathay Pacific add Dublin to the network) the European experience is substandard. It’s a cultural shift from a discounter in which the client is at odds with the airline, attempting to circumvent its fees and procedures to a relationship where the customer is assumed to facilitate the airline and its ability to continue flying. Our readers that commented the airline wasn’t yet ready for the oneworld stage were right and I was wrong. All the same, I am happy to set the record straight.
What do you think?