Peter Bromhead: The hidden costs of travel

"My credit card now resembles Swiss cheese and I haven't even become airborne yet." Illustration / Peter Bromhead

Preparing for another overseas journey, I've been experiencing the usual onslaught of pre-flight nicks to my credit cards.

The first nick was for a compulsory medical certificate from my GP, confirming that I'm still standing vertically and should be able to handle two weeks in foreign places, covered by expensive medical insurance.

This is the penalty for being an octogenarian. Once you hit 80 it's all uphill - the insurance industry is clearly pessimistic about my ability to return in one piece.

The third nick is renewing a visa entry to the US.

As well as having to pay, the US authorities require me to supply details of my mother's maiden name, which is apparently now regarded as indispensable information if you're planning a stopover in the land of the free.

Meanwhile, fresh nicks are nibbling my credit cards, including ones for reserving parking at the airport, plus booking the mutt into a kennel at a cost not far removed from what I'm paying for overseas accommodation.

Then there's the airline, which isn't content with charging me mega-bucks to experience the pleasures of being compressed in its sardine can, and has offered me the opportunity to pay another charge to get access to a pre-boarding lounge, with a play area for children.

Nick seven is a seat select charge, so my dependants can stay reassuringly close to their parents; nick eight is for agreeing to give my children airline meal service en route.

I could have asked them to starve for 24 hours, but the caregiver suggests this is a trifle unreasonable.

The airline is also nicking me for excessive baggage requirements, apparently to hold my tiny mites' gargantuan Lego purchases on the return flight.

Nick 10 is being forced to buy a pair of expensive compression stockings, essential hosiery for the doddery, hopefully to prevent the possibility of blood clots that could be caused by spending countless hours encased in an aerial alloy tube with pitiful legroom.

The nibbles continued this week with the purchase of neck pillows, needed because previous purchases were so feebly constructed that we had to ditch them when polystyrene started leaking everywhere.

This leaves two final nicks - buying some sort of international mobile data coverage, plus paying out the usual bank charges to exchange currency.

I trust readers will forgive my cynicism on the supposed joys of travel, given that my credit card now resembles Swiss cheese and I haven't even become airborne yet.