For the first time in my life I am up in the air on the last day of the year, I certainly hope there will be many more, and so it is not without irony (for a founding member of the D&C no less), that I really hate flying. I’m sure there’s a metaphor or a fake Chinese cookie message in there somewhere, but I’m at a loss to interpret it. My spidey senses are a bit dullish this morning, 3 AM wake-up, Bloody Mary in the airport lounge and all that, plus the aforementioned “dislike” for aerial travel, which if you knew more of my background would bump the irony up to eleven. The complete Diving and Chillin’ clan is headed to Cozumel, meaning the island of the swallows in the Mayan language. Expected activities? Please cue the evident punch line: diving and chilling. For the first time kids, the second generation of the club, are joining us. Time moving on and all that.
I mean it.
Let me be brutally blunt, we put up with so much shit as normal joe air travellers, and are often treated (one way or another) so very poorly, that flying with Copa Airlines and Air Panama was a series of little wow moments. Check-in counters? Properly staffed, the net result is that you don’t wait THREE FRICKIN’ HOURS in line among a horde of pissed off people standing around like cattle and nearly miss your flight for Europe. I’m looking at you Air Transat. Yes you, don’t turn away, you want to save on costs, I get it, but sometimes you go too far. Check-in at Montreal with Copa? Maybe ten minutes tops, even faster in Panama City.