MADRID



Back in Europe, we set off for Madrid courtesy of Iberia and by the end of the flight had singled them out as the rudest and most miserable airline crew in the industry..... a portence for our trip, perhaps? This 'business' flight, out of all those we'd recently experienced, also reaffirmed the myth that paying more wonger equates with better service. The truth is that it's barely different to being in 'Economy' except that you get to sit at the front of the aircraft (behind a pretty little curtain) and experience the full force of the fatal crash 5 seconds before the 'plebs' at the back. Oh, and of course, just before take-off, they offer you a glass of cheap bubbly and a steaming towel of dubious history so you can mop your fettered brow.


To be honest, this is just a cheap ploy to cue the Andy Franks (Depeche Mode tour manager) 'hot towels' story which has been somewhat responsible for my cynicism and is now permanently etched on Lucy's brain since we enlightened her with it on this very flight. It simply goes like this: On one particular occasion, Franksie was perturbed to witness the Arab gentlemen beside him thrust said towel down his trousers and commence vigorously scrubbing his nuptials followed by sweaty armpits before returning it, with a smile, to the stewardess. As a result of an overactive imagination regarding how or whether they even bother cleaning these facial refreshers, Franksie's never been able to accept a hot towel again - and since hearing the story, neither have we. And I'll bet you'll think twice in the future........


 
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