OK, we all know that airports are cramped, disorganised and have terrible lighting but Luton beats them all for shabbiness in the catering department.
On a Friday night having checked in for Budapest, my sister and I were in need of a decent meal. In the large terminal we only found one catering outlet, and the signage was so unclear it was difficult to work out what they were serving in their heated tureens. Well, I say serving, there was no-one behind the counter to tackle to the growing queue, and when one guy did appear he was concentrating on the buttons of his mobile phone. When I asked if he or anyone was going to serve us some food, he looked up with a combination of anger and bewilderment. In the meantime several people in the queue just wanted to pay for fizzy drinks, but there didn’t appear to be anyone on the till to take their money.
Anyway a staff member finally appeared, and agreed to take my order for two x macaroni cheeses. I don’t know what was in the tureens but no-one was being offered anything from them. There was also nothing green on the menu or on display. I was told the macaroni cheese would take about ten minutes, and then I was handed a strange rectangular object with flashing lights, which I was told was a pager. So you don’t get food, just some pseudo-hi tech piece of equipment. Why they can’t give you a sign, wooden spoon, or just call your name, like in most caffs or pubs I don’t know.
To be fair the pager started flashing in exactly ten minutes and I went to collect the greasy overcooked macaroni and soggy chips from the counter. It was inedible. However no-one asked for any money, so we didn’t push it…
Of course the lighting and decor were disgusting too, and there was one incredibly overworked pregnant lady serving behind the bar, who could only provide us with plastic champagne flutes for our wine, because there was nothing else clean.
A winner in the awfulness stakes – and British airports provide some stiff competition.