‘I travelled with newborn for first time and expected chaos – but was surprised’

It’s 7am on a grey Monday morning and I’ve just ordered pancakes and a black coffee that I’ve been craving since my alarm sounded three hours ago.

I am sitting inside Gatwick Airport and beside me is my partner, Ciara, and our daughter, Rowan, who is just a few weeks old.

It will be her first time in the sky and strikes have caused misery all year for travelling Brits.

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So naturally, we are anxious about the journey from London to Dublin with our newborn.

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We are visiting family and friends in the Emerald Isle – and rather than choose Ryanair as we usually would, we opted for Aer Lingus, after other parents recommended the dearer carrier.

“They are brilliant if you have kids,” they repeatedly assured us.

We certainly hoped so given the return flights to Ireland (including checked bags and a £50 infant fare) set us back £368.

Despite the hefty cost, the airline did allow us to fly our tot without a passport, which was a bonus given she was still waiting for one when we booked the flights.

Taking my first sip of caffeine, I begin to feel relaxed.

We were at the UK’s second busiest airport with lots of time to spare after our trains to get here ran as normal, despite a risk of a reduced service.

Tucking into the Giraffe brekkie, little Rowan falls asleep, oblivious to the constant noise and stress synonymous with most airports.

So, what could go wrong? Was Rowan saving a big tantrum for take off?

After picking up bits in duty free (Hendricks Gin and a Toblerone if you must know), we found an area to kill time in.

And just as we thought things were going suspiciously well, our flight was delayed by two hours…

Despite the setback, our spirits remained high. It was a summer of disruption after all, and at least our flight was still scheduled.

However, at one point, Ciara sighed: “We should be halfway to Dublin by now.”

But the greater annoyance came in the gate waiting area.

Some bloke, intent on using as much space as physically possible with his outstretched elbows and knees, was almost taking up two seats while scouring The Times with a comically serious expression.

Squeezing in beside him while holding my daughter, Ciara whispered: “That’s called manspreading.”

A Daily Star reader would never have been so rude (and our newspaper would have been more entertaining too).

Finally, it was time to take Rowan on her first aeroplane where we luckily had more leg room.

Having a young child meant we boarded first and once inside the craft we were met by a smiling flight attendant called Alexandria.

Looking slightly fatigued after the delays, she offered a “hello” in her thick Dublin accent. Then, glancing down at a resting Rowan, she added: “Sleepy sleepy.”

“She’s having a better time than any of us,” I replied before she added with a laugh: “Yeah, I wish that was me.”

Despite the Monday work stress, her sense of humour remained intact, and I wondered whether she was perhaps still giddy over Dublin’s All Ireland win over Kerry the day before.

Interrupting my thoughts about the match, Alexandria then kindly told us she would bring us a baby seatbelt once the other passengers were on.

But when we reached our place at the back of the plane, the small buckle was already waiting for us, and another attendant (I didn’t see his name tag) patiently showed us how it worked.

“If you need anything else during the flight, just give me a shout,” he added.

After the two hour delay, the friendliness of the staff was appreciated.

Adjustable headrests also added extra comfort, something we were not accustomed to on our normal Ryanair stints across the Irish Sea.

A few minutes later a young man in his 20s sat down beside us.

‘Thank god we are not stuck with The Times reader,’ I thought to myself.

Strapping himself in, he immediately popped on his Airpods, which is exactly what I would have done in his shoes with a potentially noisy baby so close.

Stealing a look, I saw him flick between DJ Khalid and the Barbie soundtrack on Spotify.

“Some bangers to be fair,” my fiancée acknowledged as the crew went through their safety routine.

After more waiting, we finally hit the sky and Rowan fed and slept through takeoff.

She had a brief cry in the middle of the hour-long journey to keep us honest – but soon became content again. Maybe this travelling with a baby craic was easy after all.

Staff were helpful to everyone on board throughout, with Alexandria showing compassion by bending the rules to guide a little boy to the toilet during turbulence when the seatbelt signs were on.

After landing, when again Rowan didn’t budge, a voice on the intercom told passengers: “If you did miss your connecting flight, we don’t have answers here.”

It was blunt, but at least it was honest.

However, one American woman still demanded answers about her connecting flight to Connecticut.

Clearly annoyed about the uninformative response, she then said hopefully: “Maybe I will have some luck of the Irish, I’m actually part Irish myself.”

Having heard it all before, the flight attendant replied somewhat sarcastically: “Ah, good for you.”

Exiting the aircraft without the strain of trying to catch another flight, we felt relieved with how everything went, despite the delay.

But unfortunately, there was one hiccup to come.

After collecting our suitcases from the conveyor, we then waited in a separate baggage area for our travel buggy to arrive. Being handed it back after landing would have been much more convenient.

We spent a tiring hour, the same time as a our flight to Ireland, being on the lookout while taking it in turn carrying Rowan.

After speaking to Dublin Airport workers, we eventually went to the Aer Lingus desk where an alarmingly laid back woman greeted us.

“Yeah, sure it looks like your buggy didn’t even get on the plane,” she smiled cheerily.

Tapping away at her screen, she then followed up with: “Ah don’t worry, I’m sure it will get on the next flight.”

Explaining that we couldn’t wait around for that, she went with: “We can give you a buggy here if you like.”

Thankfully, our buggy was then miraculously found and we were free to leave before being greeted by Rowan’s excitable grandparents at arrivals.

Overall, it was a pleasant experience and Rowan breezed through the day with minimum fuss.

The Aer Lingus team on board were supportive and approachable, giving credence to our friends who encouraged us to book with them.

We would be more than happy to fly Aer Lingus again, although the price could be a little more reasonable.

And if we are being honest, as good as Aer Lingus was, our next trip overseas will likely be decided on the airline that offers the cheapest seats.

So perhaps Rowan will experience the joys of Ryanair in the not too distant future after all…

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