Frills or no frills?

Would you pay £3,000 to fly to France by private jet if it got you there almost twice as fast as a budget airline? Simon Calder takes a high-altitude time trial from London to Nice

You must have fantasised about it. Surely, flying in your own executive jet is the ideal way to travel? But with so many budget flights available, is it really worth spending 60 times as much to cross the Channel? To compare the all-frills experience with a no-frills hop, I flew to Nice, twice. First I hitched a ride aboard a "positioning" flight: a business jet flying to the Côte d'Azur to pick up a well-heeled client. Next was as a fare-paying passenger on easyJet. All times GMT.

3.30pm: Trafalgar Square, London

Biggin Hill airport is on the south-east fringe of Greater London, theoretically 45 minutes' drive but often longer. So I opt for a bus/rail trip. A £1 bus ride gets me to Victoria just in time to track down (a) the right platform for Bromley South and (b) some means of buying a ticket. The ticket machine announces it does not accept £2 coins so I feed in a £20 note and jangle through the rest of the trip with a pocketful of £16.90 in loose change. The train leaves a few minutes late and trundles through a drizzly south-east London.

4.05pm: outside Bromley South station

I step out of the station to a bus stop just as the 420 to Biggin Hill is drawing up. "Do you stop outside the airport?" I ask as he takes my 70p. "Yes." This seamless travel is tremendous.

4.10pm: still outside Bromley South station

Bromley is gummed solid with traffic. This kind of event stresses out business travellers: will the aircraft go without you? When you have chartered the plane, you know that it will wait for you.

4.25pm: passing Biggin Hill airport at 40mph

I had fondly assumed that my question about the airport would be taken as a request to be dropped off at it. Instead I see the terminal flash past. I get off a quarter-mile down the road.

4.30pm: Biggin Hill airport terminal

Captain Derek Hanlon is waiting to meet me in the low-rise terminal. He takes my luggage and places it on the aircraft, which is conveniently about 20 yards away. Heidi, a ground stewardess, carries the umbrella on the walk to the aircraft – one of us jingling with £16.90 in small change. First Office Roy Fowler and Flight Attendant Catherine Morgan are already on board.

4.35pm: Biggin Hill airport apron

Upon arrival at any airport, things start to happen very slowly. Passengers have plenty of "dwell time", which is why shops happily pay a fortune for airport concessions. But not at Biggin Hill. Within five minutes the aircraft engines are running, and we taxi to the end of the runway.

4.39pm: take-off from Biggin Hill airport, heading south

In about the time that it takes for a commercial jet to push back and disconnect the tow truck, the Hawker 800 is already airborne. This is one of the larger executive jets – comfortably able to hold nine passengers plus a crew of three. Today there are only two of us in the cabin. My fellow traveller is John Brutnell, sales manager for Gold Air International.

On board, it is surprisingly roomy. "This is one of the few private jets that feels like an airliner," says Mr Brutnell. The man who owns the company, and who paid $10m for the jet, is David Gold – recognised in the aircraft's registration: G-OLDD.

4.41pm: flying over the top of Biggin Hill airport at 2,400 feet

Almost as soon as the aircraft is off the ground, it makes a tight turn through 270 degrees to fly directly over the airfield we have just left. This avoids entanglement with traffic using Gatwick.

4.45pm: climbing through 16,000 feet over Kent

"How's the temperature?" asks Catherine, as she brings me the mineral water I had ordered. Everything is just fine, thanks. Some sandwiches appear. They have been prepared in Biggin Hill's diminutive kitchen, which can also supply more substantial meals for longer flights. Eastbound, the former Iron Curtain countries are favourite destinations for business jets; air links from Britain are sparse, and some local airlines do not enjoy good reputations.

Westbound, the US and Caribbean are popular, though the limited range of the executive jets in the Gold Air fleet makes a refuelling stop in Newfoundland essential. "People like to see a bit of somewhere different," says Mr Brutnell between bites of prawn sandwich. "They can stretch their legs and meet the locals." The touchdown erases time savings compared with a non-stop commercial jet. But top-of-the-range Global Expresses can connect any two points on the planet with a single refuelling stop.

5.09pm: 35,000 feet above France

If you had hired this aircraft, you would have spent £1,000 so far. The basic rate for a jet like this is £2,000 for every hour in the air, plus expenses such as the hotel rooms and meals for the crew. That is beyond the means of the average company, let alone most individuals, but Mr Brutnell says the sums can look attractive even for leisure trips. "If eight or nine golfers are going off to Faro or Malaga, chartering a jet can work out at £600 or £700 return, which compares well with the club class return." Gold Air employs 35 pilots, 10 engineers and five full-time cleaners ("The thing's got to be pristine") for its six expensive jets. Maybe £30 per minute, or 50p a second, is reasonable.

5.20pm: flying over Dijon

How can a business jet cut through all the air-traffic control delays that bedevil passengers on commercial flights? Pilots do not have a "gold card" to avoid delays, but they do have some advantages. Biggin Hill hardly ever has to wait in a queue to take off or land, so there are few congestion delays of the kind that bedevil Heathrow and Gatwick. Captains request a path through the crowded skies from Eurocontrol in Brussels like other aircraft; if a long delay is anticipated, they do their best to find out where the hold-ups are and try to re-route the flight to avoid the busy sector. They are, after all, selling time.

5.40pm: the flight deck jump seat, over Grenoble

"I visited 93 different airports last year," says Captain Hanlon. He enjoys much more variety than other pilots. Often, his clients are on "roadshows", visiting a number of European cities – sometimes in three different countries on the same day. "On scheduled flights that would be impossible," says Captain Hanlon.

5.50pm: the Mediterranean in sight

The alluring curves of the Riviera can be made out from the lights that fringe the coast. A wide turn takes us around for the final approach. Two hours ago, I was rumbling through south-east London on a filthy old train. "People perceive value for money in saving five minutes," says Mr Brutnell. "If you have someone coming in on Concorde, the jet can park right next to the stand at Terminal Four, and the passenger can be on his way within five minutes of arrival."

6.09pm: touchdown at Nice Côte d'Azur airport

After exactly 90 minutes in the air, the jet taxis to a corner of the airfield and are met by a handling agent in a Renault van. He drives all of us – plus the luggage – to a private entrance to the terminal. An immigration official checks passports. We walk past a fight that is just breaking out among passengers crowding around the Air France desk where the flight to Clermont-Ferrand is not now, apparently, going anywhere. I accuse Captain Hanlon of staging the fracas to make the point that those sorts of things do not happen in his world. If the aircraft had a taxi-style meter, it would now be reading £3,000.

6.20pm: in a cab, in heavy traffic, heading to Nice

We are taking the slow option, at least compared with John Brutnell's customers who live just along the coast in Monaco. "Some of our clients have their own helicopters. We park next to them, they get in and fly off, and land on the roof of their office or apartment."

6.30pm: Hotel Negresco, Promenade des Anglais

Three hours after I left Trafalgar Square, our taxi arrives at Nice's plushest hotel. "There's no stress or aggravation," says Mr Brutnell, "and people are ready for business or leisure."

The Easyjet experience

4.30am, Trafalgar Square, London

No sleep. No bus. The trouble with scheduled air travel, even with a bright young airline like easyJet, is that you have to fit in with its schedule. I found a £42.50 seat from Luton to Nice, but only on the 7am flight. I start from Trafalgar Square well before dawn. Rather than risk dallying for a night bus that might never come, I decide on a brisk hike to Blackfriars.

4.55am: Platform 5, Blackfriars station

Make that £52.50, now that I have bought a £10 single ticket to Luton Airport Parkway. While the cost of flying within Europe has fallen steadily for nearly a decade, the price of ground transfers to airports has risen sharply.

5.48am: Luton Airport Parkway station

Parkway means that there is some distance to travel before you reach the airport. Everyone huddles in the station entrance until a bus arrives. Even so, we make it to the airport by 6am.

6.15am: check-in desk 52, Luton airport

At the end of a quarter-hour wait, formalities are quick and perfunctory. Signs on the desk fib that, "You must be at the aircraft gate 30 minutes before departure". The traveller has another two queues to negotiate before reaching the departure lounge. The first is to have the boarding card checked, a wait of 15 minutes. The next is for security, taking 10 minutes.

6.40am: Ann Summers store, departure lounge, Luton airport

A connection with executive aviation: the Gold family that owns the business jets also owns the lingerie and hen-party accoutrements store.

An announcer warns several tardy Dublin-bound travellers over the public address system that, "Your bags are in the process of being identified and offloaded from this service". That never happens on business jets.

6.53am: Gate 9, Luton airport

The first 60 passengers start boarding; easyJet has no pre-assigned seating, so the time you arrive at the airport determines when you board; 103 people checked in before me. At the scheduled departure time, half of us are still in the lounge waiting to be called.

7.05am: aboard a shiny new Boeing 737-700, on the apron at Luton airport

Captain Guy Adams welcomes us aboard, but will give no indication about when we might depart. The plane pushes back 15 minutes late. Seven minutes later we are airborne.

7.30am: Sitting next to Monica in row 19 at 29,000 feet, crossing the Channel coast of northern France

One advantage of easyJet over an executive jet: you meet a fascinating selection of people.

Monica is an American woman flying to Nice with £15 and nowhere to stay, but intent on reaching Monte Carlo. "French trains are easy," she says. "You can get on without a ticket."

I buy her a Coke and a packet of Pringles, and have a cup of tea; total, £3.50.

8.15am: 29,000 feet over southern France

The unmistakeable scent of a cooked breakfast wafts through the cabin. Unfortunately, the only people lucky enough to be enjoying eggs and bacon are the cabin crew.

8.56am: touchdown

A total flying time of 94 minutes. We arrive at the gate at 9am precisely – five minutes early, despite the late start. That shows how much slack is built into the schedules. With more than 140 passengers to disembark, the process of getting out of the single door at the front is tedious.

9.32am: the bus stop, Nice airport

Public transport, eh? The timetable at the bus stop fails to live up its promises, but eventually one comes along. Even with the advantage of dedicated bus lanes, the traffic slows us down.

10am: Negresco Hotel, Promenade des Anglais

Five and a half hours after leaving central London, I slump in the corner with a coffee.

The flying bus is more tiring than the airborne limousine, but a traveller's time must be really valuable to spend £2,940 to save 150 minutes.