SUPERAIRLINE – SHAME ABOUT THE SUPERBRATMODEL

I don’t need megalomaniac Mugabe, I don’t need inflation, I don’t need yet more fat cats on this bright and sunny morning. I need heart-warming. Do you? Yes? You got it.

The most heart-warming story of the past few weeks is surely the one about the tiny British airline that has been named the third best in the world in a poll by Which? magazine.

Palmair has one 34-year-old Boeing 737, carries just 70,000 passengers a year to 14 destinations from its base at Bournemouth Airport, and its seating plans are drawn up on a kitchen table.

BUT … seats have been taken out to give more leg room, large families are seated together, and every passenger is greeted and waved off at the airport. And all these courtesies – or extras, as Ryanair would call them – come with no surprise additions to the ticket price.

It set me thinking: great shame Naomi Campbell wasn’t flying Palmair when she thought her cases were lost (not that Palmair would ever lose a suitcase). They would have sorted her out. I can imagine the sub-Joan Rivers conversation.

‘You f****** motherf******, find my f****** cases at once,’ screeched the supermodel-superbrat.

‘They’re in the hold, madam,’ said meeter-and-greeter Teresia Rossello calmly and with a smile. ‘Can I get you a soothing cup of tea?’

‘A f****** cup of f****** tea! Tea with milk, I suppose, you racist f*****.’

‘You can have black if you prefer.’

‘My f****** suitcases is what I prefer.’

‘They’re in the hold, madam. Do you want someone to get them off?'

‘Too f****** right!’

‘Just give us ten minutes, please, madam.’

‘Ten f****** minutes!?’

‘I’m afraid it’s the quickest we can do it. But if we can do it in nine, we will.’

‘I should f****** well think so!’

‘Now, if you could just leave the aircraft, someone will bring you our cases. And point you in the direction of Heathrow.’

‘Ah. Shit!’


*WELL DONE, PALMAIR. MAY YOU NEVER BE SO SUCCESSFUL THAT YOU GROW INTO AN UNCARING GIANT.