Spanish language and customs

EasyJet found another way to get up my nose this weekend, and I wasn’t even travelling via East Midlands with its abominable bag machine! But just in case, I’d got my own re-sealable plastic bag. I’d steadfastly refused all offers of priority boarding, luggage and insurance, and reduced my weekend equipment to the absolute minimum (toothbrush, book, change of underwear, laptop. I just love going to spend a weekend with my daughter, who supplies everything else). I’d put these items in the less than overhead-luggage-locker sized bag conforming to all known airline regulations. I thought I was safe!

But no. At Gatwick, the check-in lady looked suspiciously at my Spanish ID card. They always give it a second look because they are not expecting me to be Spanish, but this one clearly didn’t like it. “I’ll just have to check this with my line manager,” she said. I raised an eyebrow and she pointed out that the plastic covering (the “plastificado” they all come with, for protection) was damaged, and off she went to consult. After enough time for a coffee and a bun, back she came and patronisingly told me it would be OK this time, but I should make sure I got a new one! I imagined myself explaining at the Comisaría that I needed new ID, because if you look very closely, officer, you will see that the plastificado is just beginning to split in one corner, and una señorita que trabaja en EasyJet thought it might be a sign of forgery, not nine years of constant use, and told me to get a new one.

Anyway I must have raised an eyebrow again because I then became the first person ever, in my experience, to be sent over to the orange measuring basket thing to prove that my hand luggage would fit in it, straight up and sideways. When I swung it in with one finger and without its touching any of the sides she admitted grudgingly that she could give me a boarding card. Well ¡gracias!

Filed under: Spanish language by Liz Parry