Blast off. These flights to parts north tend to follow a pattern and today's trip was no exception. Armed with a bunch of air points we were able to smuggle our way into the pointy part of the aircraft on our first leg to Singapore. Heaps of leg room, enough storage space to house a small elephant, seats that you can actually sleep in, good food, fine wine, big sized video screens and a halfway decent stereo system. The ten hour flight passed in a flash. A six hour layover at Changi Airport was a breeze, courtesy of a booking at the Transit Hotel.
Then it was show-time, a midnight departure on the London bound A 380. This aircraft carts a truck load of punters. We were booked into 81 A/C, seats which are located upstairs way down the back of the aircraft. When travelling business class on these flights you tend to be unaware that for the majority of travellers, this process is a bit of a mission. There are two basic issues at play that no amount of neon instruction signage can correct. The first is that there are vast number of humans in play here all of whom have to feed through one ramp boarding area within a pretty tight time frame, and second is the reality that half of the travellers are of Asian origin and as such simply don't give a stuff about orderly boarding procedures. First up, a large sigh flashes 'suite passengers only' (first class to lesser mortals) whereupon a hundred punters loaded to the gunnels with thousands of kilos of hand baggage all charge as one for the loading ramp. From where we were sitting it was like a scene out of one of those fifties South African movies where the lion-skinned robed African warriors make yet another fruitless guerrilla attack on the colonial stockade, only to be beaten back by the superior English fighting force. Of course, you have to substitute the African warriors with desperate looking middle-class Asians and the pith helmeted Colonials with yellow-jacketed SQ ramp staff, however you can get the drift. This loading debacle repeated itself as the process went on to Business Class only, Kris flyer members, passengers with children, the infirm etc. By the time the call came around to fully limbed punters with all their faculties intact, there was a fair swell of interest in favour of getting on board before the monster plane went off without us.
So here we are in 81 A/C. We are up against the door which is great for leg room, however there is simply no storage which is a bit of an issue so our stuff in currently stashed away in no less than three locations. The food is rubbish, the wine, well .... I don't actually know what it is. The liquid is poured from wine looking bottles and looks like wine but it sure isn't any close relative to the plonk you can purchase at New World. Where the hell do they get this stuff ??? Why do they get it??? Is this some kind of fiendish in-house joke of some Asians putting over 'Whitey'? We accept the fact that we are being offered this poison after midnight in a half light, but I ask you, why bother?
And here's another thing you don't notice if you are safely ensconced back down in Business Class. Isn't it amazing how many Economy passengers have dodgy bladders. These Economy toilets work over-time and there is simply no let up. The queues start the minute the seat-belt light goes off and finish when the plane is about to touch down fourteen hours later. And as for sleep....forget it!
A word about Dr Colin Ding, our family doctor ( and a very good one I might say). In days gone by Colin would flick us a big bottle of those blue Halcyon tablets. Wash three of those down with a dozen glasses of red and you were out for the count, which was just great. These days Colin is getting all cautious insisting that when we travel on long-haul flights we must wear these irritatingly tight long black socks, cut down significantly on the vino and replace those little performance based killer sleeping pills with something called Melatonim. These replacements are pathetic. When we get settled in the apartment, good ol' Colin is going to receive a rather pointed email in respect to this medication.
A word of caution to nervous fliers. These 380A's are big beasties. If you happen to be sitting down the back upstairs just prepare yourself for " flexing sounds" as this sucker struggles to become airborne. It's the same deal when the pilot takes the plane up to another cruising altitude. Half-way through one of these manoeuvres a woman in 80K who was obviously having a night-mare, let out a sharp and very loud blood-curdling scream. Maybe she had dreamt of the reality of her life back in the Midlands someplace and her return to drudgery. Irrespective of the cause, this passenger has now guaranteed that no one in the upper section of the economy class will be attempting sleep any time soon. Creepy stuff.
Cheers J & J