British Airways frequent flyer program much less than expected
How it began
I signed up for a British Airways credit card to receive the 100,000 bonus miles (after $2,000 purchase). Then I started using it for all purchases, since I was getting 1.25 miles for each dollar spent. Then, I tried to redeem some miles.
The shocker
I found that British Airways charges you the fuel surcharge and taxes and fees, a minimum of $100+ for transatlantic flights each way for the surcharge alone. A search concluded that for a May round-trip flight to Madrid and back, I’d use 60,000 of my miles and pay $300 or more total.
My tried and true frequent flyer program
Redeeming American Airlines miles is much more rewarding. I’ve paid from $44 to $80 in taxes for round-trip flights to the same European location. And if I flew between October 16 and May 15, it would only take 40,000 miles.
The consolation prize
Thankfully, redeeming domestic U.S. flights via British Airways is useful. $5 in total taxes for a round-trip from Austin to LAX.
Why American Airlines is terrific
I’ve gone back to spending on my American Airlines credit card for another reason. All British Airways transatlantic flights stop-over in London, which sometimes means another stopover for me, which I don’t like at all. Through American, if I book far enough ahead, sometimes I just have one stopover for a flight from the small city of Austin! And another thing. In the last year, American has upgraded its mileage reservations system. It’s easy to see one month at a time what days still have rewards seats available in each category. British Airways’ search is much more shot in the dark and tells you NO more often than not.
Back from a month in Spain. First let’s talk Ibiza…
I didn’t know what to expect. I’d booked a hotel room (a double but for just me) for a great rate since I booked in January. 30 euro a night for each of three nights and 50 for the last (don’t know why, it was a Sunday). I’d already spent four days at the beach on the North Coast of Spain, in Bakio close to Bilbao and San Sebastian, so I wasn’t screaming “Need beach” but when I arrived it was a given that I was going to start a tan like a lot of these bronzed Italian and Spanish gym boys. Incidentally, not enough of them were gay for me to even notice. It was a smorgasbord for all. Yeah, there were plenty of beautiful girls there too, though I didn’t notice them much.
Of course, with all these ripped gym bodies all around, one of the first things I did was find a gym, run and owned by of course, a gorgeous bronzed ripped guy, of French origin. He cracked me up because every time I’d cuss in Spanish or say the word “whore” he’d get embarrassed and utter “Madre mía” meaning “mother of mine.” I like oxymorons – huge guy who gets shocked by little foul-mouthed chick.
I hit the gym every day I could, with a great view of course, of the whatever body of water is there in Ibiza (I don’t pay attention to such things – is it a sea or ocean? Whatev).
Enjoyed myself thoroughly at the opening party of Pacha, formerly my favorite club in Barcelona before it shut down, though now it’s been replaced by a kick-ass club called Oshum I have yet to set foot in… next time I’ll have to check it out.
It was sardine-can packed, so I stayed away from the booze – plus, the fucking bartender lady wouldn’t serve me – seems like if you’re not bald, you’re not going to order as many drinks so you’re not worth her time. When it started to get reasonable, a guy who worked there, handsome Victor from Sitges outside of Barcelona with big innocent eyes, told me about some other rooms, so I got myself a juice in one of those, and this gorgeous black female DJ in awesome distinctive fishnets gave me a gift. But mostly, it was a juice and hang-out-with-Victor night.
More later. Just going to say: Viva Italia!!
