Guest Writer Mariana Ganea remembers her airport traveling before Romanian had joined the European Union, and comments on the staff attitude in some major European airports.

As I was reading few days ago an article about how a customer can feel when using low cost flights, I laugh a lot, and those short airport and airplane stories reminded me of my similar experiences. In my opinion, irrespective of the company or the type of flight, on either standard or low cost flights, most airlines have the same problem: the customer care polices. Unlike my guest writer colleague's experiences, mine has a particularity: I’m a Romanian citizen and, many times, the attitude of the staff on board makes me remember I am Romanian. What upsets me more is that in many cases, the attitude didn’t change too much after Romania entered the EU, and, consequently all Romanians became European citizens with full rights.

Let me tell you my story. It was a September day in 1996. I was very happy to participate in a banking training session in London. The flight went well but I was little dazzled by the long and complicated halls of the Heathrow Airport. After more than 10 minutes I arrived on the almost everlasting queue for...non EU members. It is very funny how Americans and Canadians wait impatiently there, mixing with people from the third world. Anyway, for Europeans, the non EU member is...a non EU member, nothing more. The queue was moving slowly, so I had enough time to look around and see the “guardian” of the queue.. Yes, on our queue there was a guard, which reminded me with amusement of the keepers of the Sultan's Seraglio in the oriental tales. He was so important, tall, and terrifying, as any self-respecting guardian is, and from time to time allowing one person to enter in the new Heaven... the UK territory. After more than one hour in the queue, the 'Seraglio guardian' lifted the barrier, a soft yellow velvet ribbon and looking from the high importance of his job, without any eye contact he told me to “Pass”. So, I passed, a little uneasy, trembling to a desk where the image changed but the attitude stayed.

The desk officer slowly opened my passport and, when he saw I was from Romania, he looked at me more carefully, questioning with a very determinate voice “Do you have accommodation here? How many days will you stay here?” I had done my homework, so I gave him the invitation from the Euromoney Institute. The attitude suddenly changed: “Are you in banking business?” “Yup”, I said. “You can pass and welcome to the UK”. Back then, being in banking was a very good recommendation.

Another one. July 1997, Barajas Airport Madrid. After a journey of almost four hours, I arrived in Madrid to spend my holidays. The same long queue for non EU members, but this time it was much noisier and less regulated, which is probably something more Latin. After half an hour I reached the front of the entrance desk. Two guys with those funny Spanish hats looked bored, yawning. It was during the “siesta” hours and they had to work. But upon seeing my Romanian passport, they seemed to wake up. So, the dialogue starts in the inquisitorial way: “What are you going to do here?” “Where will you stay? For how long?” This was rude, but I managed with difficulty to give a smile after hearing their quasi English. I could have gotten angry or worried, but I heard one of them saying to his colleague in Spanish: Juan, if she didn’t stop in UK, she’ll not stay here. Don’t you see that she had a British visa last year? Before Juan could reply, I told them in Spanish: “Didn’t you see my Spanish visa from two years ago when I was on a scholarship here? I’m not going to stay, I only want to spend my holidays here and to give some my money to your tourism industry”...”Pasa, pasa.”

A third: August 1999, Rome Airport. I was so tired and upset because it was the last day of my holiday in Italy. Climbing on the stairs of the airplane I had a strange and unpleasant feeling, maybe because the holiday was ending and it wasn’t a very successful one. I hadn’t imagined that the more dreadful moments of that failed holiday would follow. So, after I found my very restricted place, and adopted something akin to the fetal position, a bored steward came and with an blank look told me “In this plane you must put all your hand baggage in the special compartment, not only this nice bag” and he threw me a languishing and almost perverse smile. I did what he asked and kept only the book that I was reading. We were waiting for takeoff, and we waited, waited, for 10 minutes, then 30 minutes, then 45 minutes. I read one chapter, two chapters, my tormented legs were totally asleep and, above all the crew miraculously disappeared. Nobody could ask anything because there was nobody to answer, the stewards seemed to have disappeared. After more than 50 minutes the airplane began to move slowly in a long queue of other airplanes and after almost one hour suddenly it took off. After 10 minutes, two stewards, a man (the guy from earlier) and a woman with sleepy faces began the emergency procedures demonstration in case of unexpected events. Unexpected, I thought, what kind of unexpected? Of course no one explained to the people who paid for that flight what had happened and, of course nobody said sorry for the delay. But, don’t worry; the adventure of the flight was only just beginning.

The second episode was the food. Everybody knows that the food which is served to the customers in any airplane is a mix between dubiously labeled 'traditional' and junk food, but, that particular food was nightmare. They gave us a minuscule portion of so called pasta, in fact three pieces of half-boiled spaghetti with a dollop of red sauce - ingredients impossible to discern by the eyes or the taste buds. The drinks were better, free mineral water. I heard the stewards commenting in Italian “Take care, don’t give too many drinks to these gypsies because they can become aggressive. Tell them the alcoholic drinks are finished”.

The last one before EU accession: December 2001, Luxemburg airport. After I had to give a long explanation to a bored employee of the Schiphol Airport, telling him about the scope of my travel to Luxemburg, where I was for a European banking training program and, after a few physical exercises taking off and putting on my suspicious boots, I finally climbed into some kind of flying coffin which took me through heavy turbulence from the North Sea to Luxemburg. When I landed, first I made my cross because God had helped me arrive in good condition, but, after a moment I discovered that my adventure had only just begun because of an unexpected event. A Luxembourgian employee told me very calmly and rather stiffly, “Sorry Madam, but due a regrettable error your luggage went to....London, Heathrow. Don’t worry, in 48 hours it will be here”. I didn’t say anything, only because he was one of the few flight company employee who used the word 'Sorry'. The luggage was indeed there as the employee told me ....precisely 48 hours later. Thus, it was on at least the third day of my training program that my colleagues could finally see that I was a civilized person who had the proper clothes for the event.

These were few of the most relevant flying experiences I had before 2007, when Romania joined the EU. Do you think the adventures stop here? I’ll tell you more about my miraculous flying adventures as a European citizen next time. Until then, have you seen the TV ad that's been running recently: It says: “Do you know who I am? I’m a European citizen and I have rights.” Let's dwell on that.

By Mariana Ganea, Guest Writer