Soft Landings

Lessons on getting off an airplane

Budget Mexican airlines such as Volaris get a lot of negative press. Sites such as TripAdviser are full of horror stories about bad customer service, inability to get refunds, canceled flights, etc. Moreover, these budget airlines nickel-and-dime you for everything: sure, the flight itself appears to be inexpensive, but... do you want to pick a seat? You'll need to pay for that privilege. Have a carry-on bag? You'll pay for that too. Want some coffee during your flight? Maybe some water? Get your wallet out.

Despite all that, and despite having personally experienced a flight cancelation minutes before departurebecause there weren't enough passengers booked, I like flying Volaris (for distances longer than I want to be on a bus, of course). Sure, the seating is cramped (I'm 6 feet tall) and the planes aren't the cleanest and they are stripped down to the bare essentials (no seat-back pocket for you, mister). And sure, they seem to cancel flights on a whim. But they are easy, the flight personnel are friendly, and even with the everything-is-an-add-on pricing policy, they really are an inexpensive option for flying around - particularly from one Mexico destination to another.

But what I like most about flying Volaris? The disembarkation experience.

Terror at 0 feet

When flying a U.S. or Canadian carrier, or even a European airline, once the plane lands, pulls into its gate, and the little chime goes off indicating that disembarkation has begun, all hell breaks loose. The entire complement of passengers starts to behave like a swimming pool full of cats: people leap from their seats into the aisles and start pulling down luggage onto the heads of smaller or still seated (still seated? Stand up!!!) passengers. People in the back start to push forward in a panic, lest they have to wait 30 seconds longer for their Uber. Fights ensue. Duels. Premeditated murder. It is all just sheer chaos. The aliens observing us from the comfort of their UFOs must think passenger aircraft regularly explode once the jetway extends to the exit door, such is the circus of crushing determination to be the first one off these safely-grounded death tubes.

The soft parade

This is what happens when a Volaris flight pulls into the gate and the chime chimes: nothing. No change. The photo above was taken a good 30 seconds after the jetway was extended and the safety chime tolled, and no one moved. On Volaris, there is an actual protocol for disembarkation. It goes like this: a flight attendant starts moving down the aisle, from front to back, opening the overhead luggage compartments 2 at a time (left and right); when the compartment over your head is opened and the flight attendant has moved further down the aisle out of your way, then you stand up, relaxed as a triple margarita, get your bag and leisurely stroll up the uncrowded aisle and off the plane. It is elegant. It is unstressful. Disembarking from a Mexican airline reminds one that - in some places - civilization is not abandoned within the confines of an aluminum airframe.

Flight attendant opening the overhead compartments as passengers in front of her rise to leave and passengers behind her wait their turn.

Always an exception

Yes, I enjoy flying Volaris. But not from Tijuana's international airport. No way. Been there, done that. Seriously, I'll ride a zonkey from Tijuana to Mexicali to avoid having to take a Volaris flight out of Tijuana again. But anywhere else around Mexico, and I'm a card-carrying v.club fan.