Dear Reader

ONCE we get through this torrid period for travel on planes, ferries, trains and congested roads, there will be a chance to assess how our perceptions of the main players have changed.

Ryanair is a case in point — for so long the butt of derogatory jokes. Personally, I’ve always liked the story of Ryanair boss Michael O’Leary walking into a pub in Manchester and asking for a pint of Guinness.

‘That will be £1,’ says the barman. ‘That’s great value,’ says O’Leary handing over the money. ‘I see you don’t have a glass. That’ll be £4,’ says the barman. O’Leary scowls, pays up and walks to a seat.

‘Oh, you want to sit down. That’ll be an extra £3.’ And so on, until O’Leary slams his drink on the counter and demands to speak to the manager.

‘Here’s an email address or, if you wish, you can contact him between 9.00am and 9.01am every morning, Monday to Tuesday, at this phone number. Calls are free, until they are answered, then there is a talking charge of only £1 per second.’

How the tables have turned. In the first six months of this year, Ryanair cancelled 0.3 per cent of flights compared with British Airways’ 3.5 per cent and easyJet’s 2.8 per cent, according to OAG, the travel data experts. And this week the company posted profits of £145 million for the three months to June 30.

Some years ago, I was invited to interview O’Leary in Dublin (pictured), and although it wasn’t fashionable to say such a thing at the time, I came away thinking we needed more O’Learys in the industry, not fewer.

His shoot-from-the-hip policy is not to everyone’s taste but his planes fly on time, and I rather admire his marketing skills.

At his wedding in 2003, O’Leary arrived early at the church. ‘Will your bride be late?’ shouted a photographer.

‘Yes,’ O’Leary said, in a jibe at his rival. ‘She’s flying Aer Lingus.’