Once again, Mrs J is phoning one in from southern France after a day of car-plane-bus-car. She described a similar journey last year. The experience was pretty much the same. The pattern of the bus seats was different, maybe. And the driver didn’t have quite as much to say. That’s about it.

This is the second time this month that Mrs J jets down to the Med.

It just sounds irresistibly fancy, put like that. And it is technically true. Though right this minute she still feels more like a yo-yo traveller than a jet setter.

Being, of course, overall very grateful to have the option of low-cost airlines and other collective transportation, Mrs J would say that it is much easier to be grateful once you’ve actually arrived. The travel itself can not really be described as enjoyable. You get what you pay for, which is essentially a lot of waiting and very little comfort. Nothing new under the sun.

It follows that the correct time to ask Mrs J to participate in a survey rating the performance of these wonderful low-cost services is probably not just as her plane is finally boarding after a 3 hour wait.

Mrs J kind of thinks she should call them and take it all some of it back.

But then again, they’d probably charge her for the call.