Jet Flight Vagrancy (Ryan Air and the £7.99 flight)

Armed with the essentials: smart phone, bank card, earplugs, I have been living in international airports for about three weeks now. When you can get a connecting flight for less than ten Euros and you can sleep in the airport, get drinking water, use free toilets for washing, have WiFi and charge phones and power banks for free! Why spend eighty Euros for one night in some generic hotel room?
It's tiring, true.
Food prices in airports are obviously sky high (coughs and smirks) so learning to live on water, crisps, bread, salami bought from a supermarket in town, and the occasional rare overpriced coffee can be a survival course under the glaring perpetual lights and the loud speaker announcement monotony of airport camping. This isn't some Special Forces misery in the cold wild of Scotland with horizontal rain to contend with. No! This is the psychological torture of listening to Debbie from accounts going on her annual holiday to Magaluf talking about cock. Or its listening to little bastard kids scream and run around like malfunctioning Duracell bunnies when you just want eternal sleep. Well maybe not eternal but a good eight hours would do. Tough shit! If I hadn't wanted to get caught in limbo in the sterile well lit monkey house of an airport departure lounge I wouldn't have started this experiment in the first place.
So there are some DOS and DON'TS: First I would never go into the public toilets here and strip down for a body wash. I would discretely get clean in the disabled toilet complete with basin and soap. Second: However tempting it might be I wouldn't root around in bins looking for pre security check jettisoned goods. This annoys the airport staff and blows your anonymity. Making you a threat to be marked with eviction  And Third: No heated discussions with the other airport punters about politics, religion, Klaus Schwab's Bond villain mug or anything controversial. Everyone working at airports is on high alert and obliged to report any weirdo they might come across. So there.
Needless to say as a post script that wearing sunglasses and tapping out a rhythm on your back pack like a white Ray Charles is also a no-no.
So it's time to go through security for your ten pound moonshot into a foreign land. Always take an empty bottle or canteen through with you and ask for it to be filled at a bar. Or do you want to pay three Euro fifty for a small bottle of "mineral" water, fuck that.
The same applies once on the plane to anything bought from the stewardesses. You want a seven euro Nescafé? Better off getting one of these sky foxes to slap you round the face until you come to your senses.
And there from my randomly allocated seat I will say it's been nice.

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