Photo not of the airline in the post
It’s not that I haven’t traveled by budget airlines before. I remember the good old days when we flew from Kuwait City to Bahrain many years ago. A new low-cost carrier had just launched, and — as unbelievable as it sounds — the taxi fare to the airport cost more than the air ticket itself.
But that was another time.
Recently, I booked a ticket with a well-known full-service carrier. For the first leg, I accepted a connection operated by their budget subsidiary. I felt rather pleased with myself — a comfortable trip, minimal layover, and the convenience of starting right after office hours. What could go wrong?
I didn’t expect the flight to be eventful — and thankfully, it wasn’t. But it was certainly entertaining in its own way. The in-flight announcements were where the real show began. It was almost like sitting in a marketplace, with hawkers enthusiastically pushing their merchandise.
They started innocently enough: an offer to upgrade to seats with extra legroom, followed by the familiar spiel about snacks and drinks for purchase. Fair enough — short flight, low expectations — although these were supposedly included, given that I’d booked with a full-service airline. I even declined my snack, generously giving the airline a chance to resell it at a premium.
Then came the twist. The crew cheerfully announced that, yes, the aircraft did have an onboard entertainment system. And yes, we could absolutely enjoy it — provided we were willing to rent a pair of headphones.
I sat back, amused. It wasn’t just the absence of a free service that caught my attention, but the brilliance of the commercial logic behind it. The infrastructure for entertainment was all there — screens, movies, the works — but the means to listen was an upcharge. A masterclass in microtransactions.
A reminder that when it comes to creativity — the sky is the limit, quite literally.
A few savvy passengers came prepared with their own headphones, outsmarting the system — or maybe they were frequent travelers. Meanwhile, the toilets weren’t exactly “pay and use” that day, but they remained mysteriously locked for most of the 50-minute flight, “due to takeoff and landing procedures.”
When we finally landed, I expected a smooth connection through an aerobridge. Instead, the announcement came: we’d be taking a bus to the terminal.
It was at that moment — waiting to disembark, clutching my carry-on — that a thought crossed my mind. Given the airline’s strict commercial ethos, I instinctively reached for my wallet. Just in case.
After all, having charged for the seat, the snacks, and the headphones, who’s to say they wouldn’t monetize the 15-minute bus ride?
It turns out the bus ride — like the toilet, and the life jacket, I suppose — was free of charge.
This time.
