On Saturday I was given medical repatriation from Marmaris via Dalaman, Istanbul, and Heathrow and then on to Bristol. A doctor came over from the UK and checked me over on Friday to ensure I was fit to travel and the three of us set off at 6.00am Saturday. We travelled by non-stop ambulance (and I mean non-stop) Marmaris to Dalaman. The doctor and I (and Hilary part of the way) travelled business class on Turkish Airlines to Heathrow via Istanbul. I was moved through all the airports by wheelchairs waiting in for take-off in CIP lounges. The treatment in the two Turkish airports was a professional, well-oiled, efficient, swift and an altogether pleasant operation; that in Heathrow was chaotic, incompetent, inefficient, slow and all-in-all a complete embarrassment.
In Dalaman, arrive at entrance in ambulance wheelchair, escorted by airport staff to security check #1, straight to the front of the queue, bags put down the conveyor belt, asked to stand for baton body scan, cleared, escorted to check in desk. Two minutes later escorted to Passport Control, straight to front of queue, cleared and escorted to security check #2, and same procedure as before. Cleared and escorted to VIP area. Wheelchair taken away. One hour later, airport wheelchair through boarding are, down umbilical ramp to plane doors, walk (as first passenger) to seat in business class. Other passengers loaded, takeoff.
In Istanbul, other passengers leave plane by left side door, when finished right side door opened, wheelchair waiting, sit down and am fast-tracked from domestic terminal into international with same alacrity as before, Delivered to VIP lounge. [Bonus: doctor tells me I can pour one glass of draught Efes for myself from the self-service area]. Collected from lounge, wheelchaired to plane and ensconced. I say to the doctor "Hey, this is the way to travel". He tells me it is like this all over the world; but I will notice something different at Heathrow.
At Heathrow, other passengers leave plane, wait some minutes. Someone arrives and asks who has ordered the stretcher. My doctor explains stretcher not required he has ordered wheelchair. "Oh". Headscratching. "I think I saw a wheelchair somewhere earlier. I'll see if I can find one". Turkish Airlines cabin director says "Heathrow, eh?" rolls his eyes and shrugs. Wait for someminutes. In this time a Turkish woman who has already left the plane has returned and apparently would also like a wheelchair. Wheelchair arrives with different airport staff member. "A woman needs a wheelchair?". "Yes but there is a priority heart patient who needs to go first". "Well, I can't take him anywhere. I'll just have to take him to the top of the ramp and park him up". At top of ramp another member of staff is arriving with another wheelchair, change wheelchairs, and weave our away across the crowded airport. We pass the UK & EU Nationals Passport Control (which surprises me) and go to UK Border Control with its notices about asylum seekin. There is a separate Med Desk channel with only one gate staffed and a queue. The queue doesn't look too long ... but I am the only person with a UK passport. Everybody else has to be fingerprinted, one finger at a time, once it has been explained to the non-English speakers (nearly everybody, apparently three planes from Pakistan have just landed) what is required. This is a lengthy process. Eventually I got to the front of the queue. The Passport Official says "I'm sorry about the delay sir. As you can see we are understaffed and we also have one screen down and the computer has crashed". Finally clear Passport Control one hour after the first passengers have left the plane. By thIs time all other passengers have picked up their bags and the carousel is loading another flight. Fortunately our doctor has gone ahead and retrieved our bags. Out through the green customs channel, and into the arrivals hall to meet the ambulance crew who are going to take me to Bristol and who wheel me out the exit doors.
Heathrow to Bristol. Professional, efficient, pleasant service resumed. Securely belted into ambulance, ‘nice cup of tea' provided, smooth 2 hour journey direct to my door in Bristol, cases brought in, quality of service questionnaire handed over together with report on my medical condition measurements on the journey, handshakes all round.
Unsurprisingly, no quality of service questionnaire was supplied at Heathrow. Perhaps they were concerned about what filling one in would have done to my blood pressure. What the hell kind of first impression of the UK is given to new visitors to our country by the under-resourced and disorganized shambles that is Heathrow Airport. Welcome to the UK!
