Air France Follies

Air France Follies

If I had nothing to base my conclusions on other than my personal experience on Air France, I would conclude that no one there had ever worked at an airline before. We arrived for our flight out of Paris three hours before our scheduled departure time — and this was a good thing, because by the time Air France ran us through its wringers, we were about as frazzled as a group of travelers could be.

The first hurdle came in the form of AIr France’s mis-named “Self-Service” check-in kiosks. I wasn’t much surprised at the first request: “Please insert your passport.” That’s pretty standard — my reservation information is keyed to my name and passport number, after all. But the next question (“Please enter your flight number”) caught me by surprise. After some scrambling around, though, I dug up a copy of the flight number … only to be confronted with yet another request: “Please enter your fifteen-digit E-ticket number.”

My E-ticket number? I must have looked pretty shocked, because at this point, a fashion model masquerading as a knowledgeable Air France employee wandered over. She glanced at the information I had entered so far, asked me about my final destination, and then said, “Oh, you don’t need to check in here. You need to go to counter E8. If you check in here, you’ll still have to check your bags down there, so you might as well check in at that kiosk.”

So we packed up our entire family of eight and dragged our bags another two hundred yards down the terminal to counter E8. There, we tried the kiosks again … but then realized that, in order to use ’em, we would have to enter all the information the kiosk wanted for each of the eight individuals in our party.

About this time, another fashion model masquerading as an Air France employee wandered over. “Why are you in this line?”

When I explained we’d been sent there, she shook her head. “Oh, no, no. You don’t need to be here. Come with me.”

Do I need to tell you what happened at the next counter? You guessed it. Another model. Another question. Another “Follow me.” Another trek to another counter.

We followed her to yet another counter, where we explained that manually re-entering all the information associated with our flight plans into yet another kiosk struck as as a bit too self-service for our tastes. To her credit, this Air Francer took our passports and entered the information for us at a Unix-based terminal — a process that took a fully-trained airline employee twenty minutes to complete. During that time, we watched customer after customer try to complete the self-service sign-in process. Not a single person was successful. How, exactly, is a system that requires so much employee intervention a self-service process?

With tickets finally in hand, we went on to our gate. There, my father-in-law’s ticket was refused, leaving Joe stranded at the head of a long line of impatient fellow passengers. Clueless Air France employees pounded keys and placed calls before finally shoving us aside and allowing everyone else to board the aircraft. I tried repeatedly to explain the most likely source of the problem — both Clyde and his father have the same legal name, and it’s not uncommon for this to confuse foreign computer systems. The Air France employees dismissed my explanation entirely.

I reached my breaking point when the woman behind the counter called up a list of checked-in passengers — including the name of my father-in-law — and began warning them that, unless they came to the gate, they would miss the flight.

“Il est ici!” I said. “He’s here. He’s standing right here! This is him!”

“That’s not his name,” the woman insisted.

“It is his name! Check his passport!”

Ms. Air France raised her voice and turned red. “It’s not just his name. His e-ticket number is not in the system! Without that, he will not be allowed to board his connecting flight in Amsterdam!”

I didn’t blink. “If he didn’t have a valid e-ticket number, how did they check him in? How did he get a seat assignment earlier this morning?”

She pressed her lips together until they were white. “I don’t know.”

Eventually, they let us on the flight — we were holding up the entire plane. Tellingly, once we were in Amsterdam, Northwest had no problem with our reservation — or my father-in-law’s e-ticket numbers — at all.

Update: with a little detective work, we discovered the source of our problems. Remember that helpful Air France spokesmodel who typed all our information in for us? She entered Clyde’s information twice — once for him, and once for his father. An innocent mistake, perhaps … but if we can deduce this with fifteen minutes and an internet connection, one would hope that six Air France employees with a terminal, a phone, and a manager at their disposal might discover the same thing.

If Air France can’t direct people to the right counter, check people in, or process simple records correctly … how do they stay in business?

If I had nothing to base my conclusions on other than my personal experience on Air France, I would conclude that no one there had ever worked at an airline before. We arrived for our flight out of Paris three hours before our scheduled departure time — and this was a good thing, because by the time Air France ran us through its wringers, we were about as frazzled as a group of travelers could be.

The first hurdle came in the form of AIr France’s mis-named “Self-Service” check-in kiosks. I wasn’t much surprised at the first request: “Please insert your passport.” That’s pretty standard — my reservation information is keyed to my name and passport number, after all. But the next question (“Please enter your flight number”) caught me by surprise. After some scrambling around, though, I dug up a copy of the flight number … only to be confronted with yet another request: “Please enter your fifteen-digit E-ticket number.”

My E-ticket number? I must have looked pretty shocked, because at this point, a fashion model masquerading as a knowledgeable Air France employee wandered over. She glanced at the information I had entered so far, asked me about my final destination, and then said, “Oh, you don’t need to check in here. You need to go to counter E8. If you check in here, you’ll still have to check your bags down there, so you might as well check in at that kiosk.”

So we packed up our entire family of eight and dragged our bags another two hundred yards down the terminal to counter E8. There, we tried the kiosks again … but then realized that, in order to use ’em, we would have to enter all the information the kiosk wanted for each of the eight individuals in our party.

About this time, another fashion model masquerading as an Air France employee wandered over. “Why are you in this line?”

When I explained we’d been sent there, she shook her head. “Oh, no, no. You don’t need to be here. Come with me.”

Do I need to tell you what happened at the next counter? You guessed it. Another model. Another question. Another “Follow me.” Another trek to another counter.

We followed her to yet another counter, where we explained that manually re-entering all the information associated with our flight plans into yet another kiosk struck as as a bit too self-service for our tastes. To her credit, this Air Francer took our passports and entered the information for us at a Unix-based terminal — a process that took a fully-trained airline employee twenty minutes to complete. During that time, we watched customer after customer try to complete the self-service sign-in process. Not a single person was successful. How, exactly, is a system that requires so much employee intervention a self-service process?

With tickets finally in hand, we went on to our gate. There, my father-in-law’s ticket was refused, leaving Joe stranded at the head of a long line of impatient fellow passengers. Clueless Air France employees pounded keys and placed calls before finally shoving us aside and allowing everyone else to board the aircraft. I tried repeatedly to explain the most likely source of the problem — both Clyde and his father have the same legal name, and it’s not uncommon for this to confuse foreign computer systems. The Air France employees dismissed my explanation entirely.

I reached my breaking point when the woman behind the counter called up a list of checked-in passengers — including the name of my father-in-law — and began warning them that, unless they came to the gate, they would miss the flight.

“Il est ici!” I said. “He’s here. He’s standing right here! This is him!”

“That’s not his name,” the woman insisted.

“It is his name! Check his passport!”

Ms. Air France raised her voice and turned red. “It’s not just his name. His e-ticket number is not in the system! Without that, he will not be allowed to board his connecting flight in Amsterdam!”

I didn’t blink. “If he didn’t have a valid e-ticket number, how did they check him in? How did he get a seat assignment earlier this morning?”

She pressed her lips together until they were white. “I don’t know.”

Eventually, they let us on the flight — we were holding up the entire plane. Tellingly, once we were in Amsterdam, Northwest had no problem with our reservation — or my father-in-law’s e-ticket numbers — at all.

Update: with a little detective work, we discovered the source of our problems. Remember that helpful Air France spokesmodel who typed all our information in for us? She entered Clyde’s information twice — once for him, and once for his father. An innocent mistake, perhaps … but if we can deduce this with fifteen minutes and an internet connection, one would hope that six Air France employees with a terminal, a phone, and a manager at their disposal might discover the same thing.

If Air France can’t direct people to the right counter, check people in, or process simple records correctly … how do they stay in business?

Mark McElroy

I'm a husband, mystic, writer, media producer, creative director, tinkerer, blogger, reader, gadget lover, and pizza fiend.

4 comments

  • Ah France, the China of Europe. Love it as I do (and return as often as I can) the idea of a job for everyone no matter how many people it takes is a (pardon me) foreign concept to our nouveau American mindset. One must just breathe deeply, must some polite French and pursue your own point to French Logic as you did. He must have a ticket, he is here. He is here so you are wrong. Voilá! My proof is my existence.

  • On the other hand, I have a dear friend whose entire family became exceedingly ill in Mali on a recent trip, and their savior was Air France – the only office that had anyone even remotely professional in Mali. They got them to Paris, where their 10-year-old had to have an IV in the airport.

    So I guess it all depends on your frame of reference 🙂

  • Mark,Good to see you over Xmas. Hope your trip to Paris was wonderful. My girlfriend Millie and I are going to Italy and Paris, and will be in Paris on January 16, 17, 18. We’ve booked a place to stay, Hotel Tiquetonne, but the more reviews I read the less excited I am to stay there. Do you have any recommendations that you could pass our way? Thanks alot!Chris

  • Hi, Chris! It was good to see you, too.

    Recommendations for Paris

    – Don’t worry about your hotel. You won’t be there much, so unless the comments indicate it’s unsafe, I wouldn’t worry. Meantime: if your booking isn’t pre-paid, consider snagging a Priceline room. We got rooms in the Marriott Rive Gauche (a four-star hotel) for less than one hundred dollars per night … a remarkable bargain, given that most terrible hotels were advertising rates that were two or three times higher.

    – Go to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Take the Metro to the Trocadero stop. Buy some bread, a crepe, and a bottle of water and get in line. The view is stunning, and the experience, when shared with someone you love, is worth the wait. If the weather is cloudy, though, skip this.

    – If you can only do two museums, dedicate a morning to the Louvre and a morning to the Centre Pompidou. If you’re visiting on a weekday and have time for a third museum, combine a trip to the Musee d’Orsay with lunch at the reasonably-priced, eye-popping dining room there.

    – Window shop. I recommend making a visit to the Galleries Layfayette and Printemps, just to see what a huge Parisian department store is like. (Beautiful!) Don’t plan on buying much, though — prices in Paris are high. The best sale prices are equivalent to the full retail price in the States.

    – Get a reasonably-priced, authentic lunch. For a real treat that won’t break the bank, follow up your morning at the Lourvre with lunch at L’Ardoise (28 rue du Mont-Thabor, 75001 Paris, phone 00 33 1 42 96 28 18, open Wednesday through Sunday). This was one of our most memorable meals; you’ll love it.

    – See Sacre-Coeur at night, when you can appreciate the glittering skyline and when this stunning architectural wonder is at its most mysterious and moody.

    – Stroll along the Seine. Artist stalls open around 9:30 along the Seine. I recommend going for a morning visit to Notre Dame, then walking up the river, admiring the various wares on sale. Take your time and dig for treasures.

    – If you have time, a day trip to Chartres (one hour outside Paris by train) is a must. This is the most purely Gothic of all cathedrals in the world; in addition, the village is made for walking, shopping, and browsing.

    – Go Ice skating. This time of year, ice skating rinks have mushroomed up all over the city, marked by large white igloos (where people change into their skates). Join the locals, strap on your skates, and go.

    – Schedule some unscheduled time. Paris is at its best when its delights are unexpected. Wander the Marais. Amble through Pigalle. Get lost.

    Here’s hoping you’ll have a wonderful trip!

Who Wrote This?

Mark McElroy

I'm a husband, mystic, writer, media producer, creative director, tinkerer, blogger, reader, gadget lover, and pizza fiend.

Worth a Look