We flew with Thomas Cook Airlines. Seriously, don't do this.
Our flight from Gatwick—which was supposed to leave at 16.10—was delayed till 17.30. Then 18.30. Then... Well, we eventually took off three hours late, arriving in Larnaca at past two in the morning, local time (Cyprus is two hours ahead).
No real reason was given. The check-in lady muttered something about a plane taking off too late, so an aircraft switch having to be made; it was a pity that this conflicted with the crew's excuse—which was that a crippled plane had been hangar-bound for some time. Alas, we were not told which one of these sources was the lying shitbag.
Incredibly, at the end of the holiday, our 23.40 flight out of Larnaca was also delayed. By three hours. No explanation was given: none. We were not even informed at check-in: it was not until we got through security that we saw the sign—which merely informed us that the flight was
For fuck's sake! Delayed by two hours and twenty minutes? Fucking hell. It can't be...?
It wasn't. Nope: it was delayed until 2.20 in the morning. And the rest. This time, according to the captain, one plane was "in the hangar", plus another plane had been damaged by a bird-strike over Ibiza.
THOMAS CROOK: A BUNCH OF CUNTS DEMONSTRATING HOW NOT TO MANAGE YOUR CUSTOMERS
Now, your humble Devil is generally an understanding sort of chap; I appreciate that these things happen and—whilst I would rather the twats had at least one spare plane standing by—I understand that it is peak season and the routes are tight.
But what absolutely pissed me right off was the fact that no one bothered to communicate with us. At all.
On the flight out, there was no information to be had—bar the continuously rising delay notices. But at least they gave us one free drink on the way over.
On the way back, there was no information at all. No Thomas Crook staff were available to talk to. There was barely even an apology. And most certainly no free booze made any appearance near me. And I would have known—believe me, I have a kind of sixth sense for free booze.
THOMAS CROOK: COMMUNICATION IS SO EASY!
Now, I feel that Thomas Crook's service was fucking abysmal but, as I said above, these things happen. What was not acceptable was the total lack of any communication.
For fuck's sake—it doesn't take much effort to make an announcement, or to warn people at check-in, or to have a member of staff beyond security. You could even tell the airport staff—but Thomas Crook hadn't even done that.
Instead, Bella and I ended our holiday on a sour note, feeling pissed off and knackered. We finally got back to the flat at quarter to eight in the morning and—instead of having a couple of hours to relax—I had to change and dive out of the door to go to work pretty immediately. And was still an hour late.
All of the above, by the way, leaves out the claustrophobic seating—I felt, quite literally, trapped—and the constant attempts to sell us shit that we neither needed nor desired. It also ignores the fact that, to facilitate the first two hours of trying to sell to us, they kept the cabin lights on—thus rendering sleep impossible for me (right now, I have been costantly awake for about 45 hours).
THOMAS CROOK: THE CONCLUSION IS...
Thomas Cook are a bunch of arrogant, incompetent cunts who cannot be arsed to spend a few minutes communicating with their customers. As such, you should never fly with the fuckers. Ever.
Bella did take the time to fill out their Customer Survey and elaborated on this theme thusly...
In short, I would eat my own eyeballs before I flew with Thomas Cook again.
You have been warned...