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Comment from the
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 Airline prices may be just the ticket
THERE are few more pleasant things to do on days like we've been having recently than simply sitting in the doorway of The Shed in the early evening doing nothing more than listen to a tractor and hay-baler working three or four fields away, and particularly so if one hand is busy trying to keep a glass of Calvados on an even keel.
In fact the last thing I need on such occasions is interruptions, no matter what the source, which explains the scowl which spread across my otherwise placid features the other evening when an old mate - one of a small handful who merit the accolade - came bounding down the path with the proverbial grin from ear to ear.
To be honest, it took me a while to understand his chirpiness, given that what he had to say spewed out faster than you can get lodged au Greffe in the back of one of the Kremlin's Black Marias these days, but it all had to do with airline tickets and the internet.
Just for the record, I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I've been on a plane in the last five years - that figure is unlikely to increase dramatically until the new corporal in charge of the Airport puts back the furniture he thinks it's clever to have rearranged - and although I know that the internet can be got at through a computer, I couldn't switch one of those on unless Herself wrote out an idiot's guide.
Anyhow, my mate not only travels frequently by air but, just like Herself, also spends half his waking hours playing with the computer. Apparently he books his air tickets on this thing, and, although he said that it's quicker and easier than getting into the passion wagon and going to either a travel agent or the airline itself, his big moan is that until he pushes the final button he has no idea of the total cost.
'You can see a fare displayed and until you're used to the tricks of the trade you think you're getting it dirt cheap, but what they don't do is display fees for this and taxes for that until they've virtually got you hooked,' he told me.
'Not long ago we (him and his version of Herself) went up to the north of England. The total price we paid was just about three times the first price indicated because of these taxes and fees.'
And the reason for his grin from ear to ear? Apparently the airlines have been told to stop this nonsense and get into line by displaying the full price of plane tickets on their websites so, as he put it, punters will know from minute one exactly what they will be paying for their trips.
I finally got the significance of what he was banging on about and reckon that this probably represents a victory for the oppressed over the oppressors - something which this bolshie little crapaud will applaud as long as he has Calvados running through his veins, or at least parts adjacent to his veins.
SOME months ago - it could be longer but I don't have a watch - I criticised a member of the legal profession for writing to this newspaper with a list of questions he suggested should be asked of the management of Dandara, the firm which has probably done more to alter the face of St Helier since the French tried it on in 1781.
I suggested that he was as well placed as any journalist to make his own inquiries, and, in so many words, should get off his rear end and do so.
Now we have David Râtel doing much the same - he lists three questions that he wants someone else (one of this newspaper's 'eager young journalists') to ask on his behalf and promises that once this has been done for him he has 'a few other queries, but these will do for a start'.
Wouldn't it be nice if Mr Râtel and others like him wrote to this newspaper and said (to refer to one of his questions) that he had contacted the appropriate States department and asked them how current staff numbers at Tourism compared with the days when there were 27,000 holiday beds available - the figure was 25,000, but no matter - and attached to his letter was their response?
After all, journalists are no better placed legally to obtain information from States departments than are members of the public like Mr Râtel, so why can't he pick up a phone, write a letter or go down to Halkett Place where he will find a Public Library that holds an absolute wealth of the sort of information he (not the journalist, eager and young or otherwise) seems to want?
Equally - to refer to his question about the closure of Les Quennevais swimming pool - I note that he lives not far away from there, so next time he's passing he could actually bang on the door and ask. On the other hand, if there's no one there, then just along the road lives the minister responsible for that particular facility, and, as they all tell us at election time, their doors are always open.
And on an even more serious note, perhaps the so-called presumption of openness to which that lot in the Big House say they are committed (but to which on occasions they pay less than lip service) would be best served if people like Mr Râtel actually did ask the questions themselves.
After all, if enough of them did it, then information would be much more freely available and that would benefit us all.
AND finally . . . I agree with regular correspondent Roger Bale about once in a blue moon, but his drinking man's guide to taxation published on 6 August was an absolute gem. It will be interesting to read responses.
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