As Sartre once said, “Hell is other people,” and nowhere is this more true than on a plane. Crammed elbow-to-elbow in a narrow metal tube with nowhere to escape but the lavatory, airline passengers have the power to make each other’s lives either pleasant — or miserable.
We recently polled our readers to find out which onboard behavior causes the most misery: hogging the armrest? Forgetting that all-important deodorant? Chattering so much you can’t enjoy the newest page-turner from Dan Brown?
It turns out that there’s one plane pet peeve that tops them all: seat-kicking, which took home more than 30 percent of the vote. Grouses member Kayling05, “The worst thing I have found is when people (usually kids) kick the back of the seat! On an 11-hour flight to Fiji, these kids woke me up in the middle of the flight (overnight) kicking my seat and I turned around and screeched at them (in a loud whisper), ‘Can you please STOP THAT?!?!’ Well, they did, so that was nice. I am not a morning person even on the ground, so they definitely messed with the wrong person.”
Parents, take note! We don’t care how adorable your little darlings are — they’d better keep their feet to themselves.
While hogging the armrest and wearing too much perfume rounded out the top three annoyances, many readers wrote in with complaints we’d left off the list:
- “[I'm not fond of] people who have to haul themselves up by pulling on the back of my seat, catapulting me into the seat in front of me when they let go.” – sdtexas
- “There is the avid reader [in] the window seat who doesn’t find the reading light above her seat bright enough for her eyes, and keeps the window blind open when the lights are turned off and everyone else is sleeping (or attempting to), letting the sun’s rays bounce on the glossy pages of her magazine and mercilessly [hit] my face, defying even the the thickest sleeping mask.” – Marco Polo
- “There was one flight that my husband and I took from PA to the U.S.V.I. as a package tour. The very wide man who was seated in the row ahead of us decided to chat, and chat, and chat with someone in our row. He stood for a long time with his wide posterior almost touching my face. The flight attendant just giggled when I asked her to make him move. I lowered my seat tray a bit and crossed my legs, bumping his butt, all the while concentrating on my paperback. He moved.” – tripper707
Don’t let yourself be the subject of a fellow passenger’s horror story! Check out our guide to in-flight etiquette.
The screaming baby, the armrest hog, the big sweaty guy who forgot to put on deodorant — these top many travelers’ lists of undesired airplane seatmates. But one reader recently wrote in to complain about a fellow passenger of the furry, four-legged variety:
“On an Alaska flight, a cat was placed behind me. I was not asked if it was all right with me. I have medical problems with cats and do not want to travel with cats or dogs. … I should have been told at the time of reservation that animals were going to be onboard, so I could have made a decision not to travel on that flight. … Let animals stay in the cargo area where they belong. They leave behind scents and hair.”
It’s true that the rights of traveling pet owners currently trump the rights of passengers who start sneezing as soon as they even look at a cat or dog. Part of that, of course, has to do with money; airlines rake in anywhere from $75 (Southwest) to $125 (Delta and American Airlines) every time someone brings his or her pet into the cabin. But it can also be a matter of safety. While thousands of people ship their pets in the cargo hold every year, there are plenty of horror stories about animals dying during the process — often due to extreme hot or cold temperatures while the plane is sitting on the ground. (Cargo hold climate controls kick in only when the plane is actually in flight.)
So what’s an allergic traveler to do? First off, when you check in for your flight, ask an airline staffer whether there will be any animals onboard. If so, the agent may be able to help you find an alternate flight. Of course, change fees or other penalties may apply.
If you’re on the plane before you realize you’ve been seated next to someone’s furry friend, speak with the flight attendant — he or she may be able to find someone else willing to switch seats with you, especially if you have a pressing health concern.
Do you think it’s fair for pets to be allowed on planes? Vote in our poll or leave a comment below!
Earlier this week, we threw out a question to our followers on Twitter and Facebook: What’s one amenity that you wish all hotels would start offering?
While we got several creative responses — @PatWoods1 asked for bidet toilet seats, and a hungry @TwavelTweeter longed to indulge his sweet tooth with “in-room hot and cold running chocolate” — there was one answer that kept coming up over and over again: free Wi-Fi.
“Remember when hair dryers weren’t in all rooms? That changed. [Free] Wi-Fi should be ubiquitous, too,” said @karasw.
“[It] could be as little as 60 minutes per day, or free all day,” said @seaescapetravel. “This is huge. Today is all about connecting.”
“Free Wi-Fi. Seriously,” @thegeekTicket concurred. “Why do expensive hotels charge for it? It’s ridiculous.”
This last response highlights the primary Wi-Fi frustration for many travelers — that all too often, luxury hotels charge guests for Internet access, while budget properties let you connect for free. If you’re paying $400 a night for a hotel room, why should you have to shell out another $19.95 a day just to get online? Is the hotel trying to chase us out to the Starbucks down the street?
I’ve seen properties where the Wi-Fi is complimentary in public areas but not in individual guestrooms, which seems almost more obnoxious. If they can offer free Internet in the lobby, they could clearly offer it everywhere else — but instead they’re making us put on shoes, leave our comfy rooms and crowd into a noisy lobby with all the other Internet addicts. Thanks a lot.
Our readers aren’t the only ones to get hot under the collar about this issue. Gadling.com recently finished a March Madness-style bracket tournament involving the biggest hotel pet peeves. The worst offender: no free Wi-Fi.
Which hotel amenity is most important to you? Leave a comment below or vote in our poll.
We thought it couldn’t get any worse. We were wrong.
Spirit Airlines, the only U.S. carrier that charges fees for carry-on luggage, has managed to dump even more baggage fees on fliers. Spirit passengers who pay for their carry-on bags within 24 hours of departure will be charged an additional $5 for doing so online or $10 for doing it by phone. This change is effective for travelers booking on or after March 24.
Spirit’s original carry-on bag fees are now, according to the airline, an “Early Bird Discount.” Spirit customers can catch the disappointing, dried-up worm by paying $30 per carry-on bag ($20 for members of Spirit’s $9 Fare Club) when purchased at least 24 hours in advance of departure. Spirit’s backhanded interpretation of “discount” troubles me. Like a petulant child who “picks up” his clothes by picking them up and then dropping them on the floor again, Spirit is twisting words in the face of its eye-rolling, grudging customers.
And the fees get steeper. The last-minute Larry who shows up at the airport without pre-purchasing a carry-on bag will be charged $45 at the airport gate and $40 at the airport kiosk. (These particular fees aren’t new, but I think they’re noteworthy).
With its newest carry-on baggage charges, Spirit seems to be slapping the concept of customer service square in the face. But the airline’s bread and butter has always been its extremely cheap fares, with flights as low as $9 each way (and sometimes even cheaper) for members of its $9 Fare Club — and Spirit’s never been one to worry about maintaining a squeaky-clean image. We’ve reported on Spirit’s devilish antics in the past, from scuffles with stranded passengers to shocking and offensive ads. Really, nothing Spirit does should surprise us anymore.
In the airline’s defense, its fees are cheaper for checked bags than for carry-ons. (Take a look at the full list of what Spirit charges in Airline Baggage Fees. ) This should, at least, free up some overhead space on the plane.
I knew the guy would be trouble the moment I spotted him ambling up to the Miami International Airport gate from which my Continental flight was leaving. I was on my way back to Philadelphia last week from a convention, and I just had a feeling that the unkempt loudmouth yakking on a cell phone and clutching a plastic cup of red wine would be sitting uncomfortably close to me.
I was wrong, of course. He was next to me. The last one on the plane, he stumbled down the aisle, looked at me huddled in the window seat, muttered an obscenity and squeezed himself into the middle. He immediately took out his phone and continued the argument he’d evidently left behind on the concourse.
Truth be told, I’m not a good flier, forever fearing every little bump and groan the aircraft makes. So I tend to take “rules” seriously, never questioning whether to put my seat back in the full and upright position or to turn off small electronics. My seatmate was a different breed — after the flight attendants made the announcement to stow away anything with a battery, he hung up the phone and started to text instead.
This went on for 10 minutes. No flight attendants caught onto the fact that his phone was still on, though I couldn’t get my mind off of it. Uncharacteristically, I nudged him as we began to roar down the runway and said, “Tell me you’re going to turn that thing off before takeoff.”
He muttered another obscenity and turned it off.
So what sort of danger were we in? Very little, most likely. I checked the Web site of the Federal Communications Commission (FCC), which prohibits the use of cell phones on flights. In 2007, the agency considered lifting the ban, but didn’t. Here’s why: “The FCC determined that the technical information provided by interested parties in response to the proposal was insufficient to determine whether in-flight use of wireless devices on aircraft could cause harmful interference to wireless networks on the ground. … In addition to the FCC’s rules, the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) prohibits in-flight use of wireless devices because of potential interference to the aircraft’s navigation and communication systems.”
The Discovery Channel’s “MythBusters” program put the interference theory to the test and came out with a reassuring result: It found there was a “one in a million chance that some new cell phone could interfere with those instruments.” Slim chance perhaps, but still not worth the risk. Check out a two-minute abbreviation of the show here.
So what happened during our landing? Naturally, the guy couldn’t keep his phone off. Minutes into our descent, he pulled out his cell and started texting again. Once again, no flight attendant reprimand came. But this time, I just stared out the window and wondered why so many people think the rules don’t apply to them.
How do you feel about the use of cell phones in flight? Leave a comment or vote in our poll.
The next time you step up to the sink at an airport bathroom, your own face may not be all you see in the mirror. Two companies, Clear Channel Airports and Mirrus, have teamed up to design digital ads that are now being displayed on bathroom mirrors at Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport.
The high-definition ads look like large posters until you step up to the mirror, at which point they shrink into one corner — allowing you to see both the ad and your own reflection while you wash your hands, adjust your combover or touch up your lip gloss. You can see how the ads work in the following video from Mirrus:
Relentless advertising is nothing new to air travelers, of course. In recent years, several airlines have experimented with putting ads on airplane tray tables, and the TSA has put them in some of its bins at security checkpoints. At least they’re not appearing inside the bathroom stalls — yet.
There’s been a tremendous amount of talk lately among various travel outlets about hotel rooms. Not the rooms themselves, mind you (though that’s always important), but the views out the windows.
Ostensibly, all the chatter is linked to the arrival of Room77.com, a California-based Web site that purports to show you what you’ll be looking at from the window in your accommodations, thus helping you choose a specific floor or even a room when you book. You put in your specs and the site creates a virtual shot of the view. There’s also an iPhone app that lets you know on the spot (read: at check-in) what to expect when you open the door, thus allowing you to request an immediate room change and negating that annoying trip back to the front desk.
It’s all very cool, and very much in the nascent stages. Only three-star hotels and above will be offered, and only 16 cities are represented so far (though that translates to a rather impressive 425,000 rooms). You can’t book directly on the site yet, but that’s reportedly going to change soon. All in all, it has the potential to be a powerful force once it catches on — and it’s great fun playing around on the site to see how it measures up at hotels where you’ve already stayed (I, for one, am mightily impressed by its accuracy).
For its part, USA Today conducted a recent poll asking readers if they cared to see the view from their hotel room prior to arrival. A whopping 88 percent indicated that they would.
I wonder: What’s up with the 12 percent who don’t?
A huge fan of hotels, I’m always a bit anxious at check-in, as much over the quality of the room as the scene on the other side of the glass. My strategy to avoid disappointment? I always ask for a room on an upper floor. Even if the hotel is three stories, it’ll keep me from being at eye level with the Winnebago in the parking lot or the kids racing around the pool. I also routinely request a “quiet” spot, which means nowhere near the ice machine or elevator bank, and away from the main drag.
That backfires on occasion, inasmuch as the dumpster is usually out back, leading to a fair (unfair?) share of garbage-filled vistas. And there’s no accounting for construction eyesores (which even Room 77 may not be able to avert). Once in Las Vegas, I was psyched to get a suite near the peak of the Venetian, a soaring monolith on the Strip. But when I got to the room and opened up the curtains, a giant crane was swinging a girder bound for the Palazzo, the sister resort under construction next door.
Room 77 wouldn’t have done much to help ward off the worst view I’ve ever had, at a bed and breakfast in Chincoteague, VA. Promising a “waterfront location,” the inn was actually plunked in the parking lot of a neighboring marina. A huge truck for storing fish — with a bellowing refrigeration unit that ran 24/7 — sat about 10 feet outside my window. When I asked to move, the only other choice was … the other side of the truck. I stayed put and kept the shades drawn.
I set the alarm, switched off the lamp and plopped down into my hotel bed, so deliciously soft and inviting that it felt like landing on a cloud. Curling up into my mountain of pillows, I settled in for a much-needed night of shuteye … when there suddenly came a teeth-grating sound from next door. “Oh, my God!! Stop texting me! Stop it! No, you shut up! My grandmother will hear!”
I don’t know about Granny, but I could certainly hear the dulcet tones of my pre-teen neighbor in the next room, who appeared to be having her own personal slumber party at 12:15 in the morning. I gritted my teeth for 15 minutes or so, pulling the duvet over my head to block out the sound — but that just left me suffocating under the blankets while my neighbor’s whiny voice bored through the barrier like an angry mosquito.
I considered my options (besides wringing her skinny neck, which I quickly but reluctantly discarded). Should I pound on the wall? Call the front desk? Trudge out into the hallway, barefoot and squinting, to knock on her door and beg her to let the poor, tired grown-ups around her sleep?
I went with the first option. A rap on our shared wall and a polite “Could you please keep it down over there?” seemed to startle the girl into an abashed silence, and I finally drifted off to sleep.
The next day, I asked a hotel staffer whether I did the right thing. She said I could have called the front desk, who would’ve sent a security person up to the room to warn my noisy neighbor. Per this hotel’s particular policy, after three such warnings a guest would be asked to leave.
Good to know. But on my next trip, I’m adding something new to my packing list: ear plugs.
Is there something in the air? In this instance, the answer is yes. In the past few days, we’ve noticed a spate of reports regarding air travel that have left us overjoyed, irked or just plain exasperated. Let’s start with the exasperating one first and work our way down to a little good news.
Something’s not kosher here.
EasyJet, a budget airline based in the United Kingdom, has apologized to passengers bound for Israel after it mistakenly loaded a pile of pork products onto the aircraft. According to the Jewish Chronicle, passengers were offered “ham melts and bacon baguettes” during the flight, which originated in London. Other news outlets added that the airline normally serves kosher and vegetarian sandwiches on flights to Israel.
You wanted to go where?
An 80-year-old wheelchair-bound woman was inadvertently allowed to board a flight bound for Charlotte, N.C., when her destination was actually Dulles International outside of Washington D.C. The CNN report says the woman “allegedly received someone else’s boarding pass from a Delta Air Lines employee,” and then somehow made it through security and into the air with the mismatched ticket. The woman, who’s from Ethiopia and speaks no English, was reunited with her family on Sunday evening, hours after she arrived at the wrong destination. The airline and the TSA are investigating.
Well, we knew this was coming.
USA Today is warning travelers that the sudden rise in oil prices and increased overall demand for fewer seats will most likely lead to higher fares for both business and leisure travelers. It quotes airfare expert Tom Parsons as saying, “The higher the fuel goes, the more you’re going to have to pay. We could see another round of fare hikes very soon.” He says if you see a good sale for a summer fare, jump on it.
And, finally, some good news.
If you’re worried about whether you’re going to arrive safely once you set foot onboard a jet, an AOL Travel dispatch on a recent International Air Transport Association report should help put your mind at ease. “Airlines flying Western-built jets globally had the best safety performance in 2010 in the history of aviation, with only one crash per every 1.6 million flights,” it says, adding that “2.4 billion people flew safely in 2010 on 36.8 million flights, 28.4 million on jets and 8.4 million on turboprops.” There were 17 major crashes last year, compared with 19 in 2009; however, when Eastern-built jets are included, the overall number rises to 94 accidents — compared with 90 the previous year.
“Hey, buddy, stuff’s falling out of your bag,” said a customer in line at the Denver Airport Hertz. My suitcase zipper was ripped, and I was leaving a trail of balled socks and rolled T-shirts.
US Airways had ruined my bag. But beyond ranting to strangers on the Internet (there are enough stories of satanic airlines taking pleasure in stuffing passengers into sardine cans, gleefully destroying baggage and watching us boil as we stumble through the customer service labyrinth), what recourse does a flier have when his bag is destroyed?
Like most airlines, US Airways requires that passengers report any damage to checked bags at the airport. With US Airways, this must be done within four hours. (Some carriers allow up to 24 hours, but the complaint still has to be made at the airport.) So I zipped back to the baggage claim.
“I’m sorry, sir, we see this happen all the time,” said the claim rep. She told me that airlines are not liable for damage to wheels, feet, zippers and extending handles. “When the baggage handlers throw the bags, the zipper rips off the fabric.” Do they see a lot of smashed zippers when they gently place the luggage on the belt? She obviously had no answer, but she gave me a number to call and register a complaint.
I was then told to e-mail my story to Central Baggage Resolution, a Phoenix-based office only reachable by e-mail. I imagine CBR as a digital bonfire that’s endlessly destroying correspondences. I learned that once CBR receives my claim, it’ll be 14 – 21 working days before I hear from them.
As I continue to hold my breath, I’ve started researching other ways to protect checked bags in the future. My plan of choice is simply to never check a bag, but here’s some info I found:
Both third-party insurers and credit card companies sometimes offer baggage insurance. American Express, for instance, offers free and for-fee baggage protection policies for card holders. I called Amex to learn about its $9.95 per roundtrip flight “premium” baggage policy, which covers checked bag damages up to $1,000. Here’s how it works, according to the customer rep: “File a claim with the airline at the airport. Get the denial.” Then file a claim with AmEx. The claim is reviewed with a licensed rep — but obviously there’s no guarantee that they’ll rule in your favor. The representative did say, however, that there are technically no exclusions for type of damage, ripped zippers included.
According to Smarter Travel‘s Ed Perkins, third party insurers can vary widely — and again, it’s up to fliers to start with the airline, get the denial (or some coverage if you’re lucky) and then file a second claim with the insurer. As always, it’s essential to read the fine print to see what the coverage cap is and if there are exclusions for certain types of damage.
Quite honestly, it all seems like a massive hassle. I paid $50 for someone to rip my bag, rendering it unusable without turning it into a silver mummy. I just want my $50 back. And maybe US Airways could throw in the $3.69 for the roll of duct tape.
Have the airlines ever lost or ruined your luggage? Share your story!
–written by Dan Askin
Editor’s Note: IndependentTraveler.com is published by The Independent Traveler, Inc., a member of the TripAdvisor Media Network, which also owns Smarter Travel.
As Sartre once said, “Hell is other people,” and nowhere is this more true than on a plane. Crammed elbow-to-elbow in a narrow metal tube with nowhere to escape but the lavatory, airline passengers have the power to make each other’s lives either pleasant — or miserable.
The screaming baby, the armrest hog, the big sweaty guy who forgot to put on deodorant — these top many travelers’ lists of undesired airplane seatmates. But one reader recently wrote in to complain about a fellow passenger of the furry, four-legged variety:
Hey, hotels — are you listening?
We thought it couldn’t get any worse. We were wrong.
I knew the guy would be trouble the moment I spotted him ambling up to the Miami International Airport gate from which my Continental flight was leaving. I was on my way back to Philadelphia last week from a convention, and I just had a feeling that the unkempt loudmouth yakking on a cell phone and clutching a plastic cup of red wine would be sitting uncomfortably close to me.
I set the alarm, switched off the lamp and plopped down into my hotel bed, so deliciously soft and inviting that it felt like landing on a cloud. Curling up into my mountain of pillows, I settled in for a much-needed night of shuteye … when there suddenly came a teeth-grating sound from next door. “Oh, my God!! Stop texting me! Stop it! No, you shut up! My grandmother will hear!”
Is there something in the air? In this instance, the answer is yes. In the past few days, we’ve noticed a spate of reports regarding air travel that have left us overjoyed, irked or just plain exasperated. Let’s start with the exasperating one first and work our way down to a little good news.
“Hey, buddy, stuff’s falling out of your bag,” said a customer in line at the Denver Airport Hertz. My suitcase zipper was ripped, and I was leaving a trail of balled socks and rolled T-shirts.