Lawlass
Active Member
- Joined
- Sep 10, 2010
- Posts
- 894
QF30 – MEL-HKG-LHR
Recently took a trip to London to attend a party I really really wanted to go to.
Being a destitute student (tautology, I know), I sought the advice of the good folk of AFF as to the stingiest way to do the trip. I finally settled on a YASA, which pretty much wiped out my points balance, but covered all those pesky taxes and fees and things.
I chose a flight a day later than I’d planned so that I could take advantage of the FLounge guest spot of jdlover23, me being a mere SG and all. It is completely irrelevant that jdlover23 is WP, because he was flying F. I was really good at sucking back in the jealous green bile that kept spewing out of me every time I spoke to him and I’m pretty sure he had no idea at all that I was envious.
At T-80, I managed to nab seat 40G on QF30
(747-438), again having received assurance from the good folk at AFF that it is, indeed, a darn good Y seat.
We had all sorts of grand plans to maximise our FLounge time, including travelling carry-on only and checking in online. We planned things meticulously and when we arrived at the airport…
I realised I’d totally forgotten to check in online.
I endured much eye-rolling and ‘pffffting’ from my fellow AFFer, but rather than abandoning me, he accompanied me to the service desk, where we were assured by the meanest looking dragon in history that there was NO WAY we could possibly check in for QF30 five hours before the flight. We politely pointed out that we could have checked in online and she gave us some answer that sounded vaguely like a threat, along with a look that had me fearing her head was about to do a 360, so we went away meekly, but used lots of words that would totally come out as …. if I tried to repeat them here (stoopid AFF swear filter).
So we trundled off to the Dom J Lounge, used the computer and printer to check in online, hiked back to Int where, as is ALWAYS the case, I was randomly selected for the explosive test, while jdlover tapped his foot impatiently and shot me dark looks, muttering about wasted FLounge time and bimbos who couldn’t remember simple instructions like “make sure you check in online”.
But we did finally make it and had the place to ourselves. This was my first MEL FLounge experience and I was really excited, even though I know I came across as totally cool and worldly and WP-like.
We had discussed the distant possibility that the FLounge dragon might take pity on the poor lass who had to travel Y whilst her companion swanned around in F and offer an op-up to PE, but it was the Day of the Unsympathetic QF Dragon. She barely glanced at my freshly printed BP while she fawned over jdlover23 (he is a rather goodlooking chap), who clearly had a far greater right to be there than me, even though he was being difficult by insisting on getting a proper cardboard BP so he could put the pretty new colour in his scrapbook of BPs or whatever.
Because of my blonde moment, we had only four hours (instead of the planned five), but reassured each other we could make up for it by drinking a bit quicker.:mrgreen:
Now, about the drinking. Both jdlover23 and I are partial to a tipple (yes, that’s a reference to a bogan beverage in his handle) and I always convince myself that I can drink like a bloke, only I can’t and get obnoxiously giggly and pissed, as anyone who was on the ATA Wake can attest. But then I forget the latter bit and try to keep up anyway.
So anyway, we settled in for some tucker, ordering a Taittinger to start (and then again, and then another champagne, and then the waiter suggested another one that was off the menu and probably was something cheap and nasty because it tasted odd, but we finished it anyway and then ordered Taittinger again to wash the taste out). I’ll let the pictures tell the story of dinner.
Menu:
Starter: asparagus and poached egg. Very awesome.
Main: Salt’n’pepper squid - far superior to the bland offering of said dish in the SYD FLounge
Dessert: I can’t remember, all I do remember was jdlover23’s was some sort of chocolately deliciousness that was way better and I got serious food envy.
Once we were done, jdlover23 wandered off to enjoy a massage while I switched to red wine (always a smart idea – not), battled with the wifi and fiddled on my iPad, which must have been faulty because the screen was all fuzzy.
Apparently the massage was cough and jdlover23 had to order several more beverages to wash down the disappointment.
Suffice to say, by the time we were called to board, neither of us exactly made a beeline to the gate – it was more like a staggery-zigzag and seemed to take an inordinately long time.
Upon boarding, he turned left and I turned right and luckily I wasn’t even thinking clearly enough to contemplate trying to give myself an op-up.
All good though, because, let me tell you, 40G is a choice seat. On the aisle of a four-across config, directly behind PE (I could peek through the curtain and smugly note they had less legroom than me) and with a wall behind me. It’s like your own little mini-cabin. Nobody in front to recline into me and nobody behind to cough when I chose to recline. Even better, there was someone on the other aisle and nobody in the two seats between.
It was so good that I hardly felt even a twinge of jealousy when jdlover23 SMS’d a picture of his seat in F.
After take-off, I realised I could no longer contact my fellow AFFer by text message, so scribbled a note on the corner of my boarding pass and gave it to the FA to take up the front. To this day I have no idea what it said and jdlover23 took great delight later advising me it was incomprehensible gibberish. But he did come back to PlebLand and admired my seat, then I demanded that he score me some F jammies.
At one stage I asked the other guy in my little mini-cabin whether he was a WP. I actually said “WP”. Or, more accurately, slurred it. He, not surprisingly, had no idea what I was talking about and ostentatiously put his headphones in so I wouldn’t speak to him again.
When jdlover23 came back with the jammies, I was disappointed to discover they were the same grey jammies I’d previously scored in J. But I managed to put them on before I passed out, pretty much for the remainder of the leg. Classy. No doubt I snored.
Upon arrival in Hong Kong, feeling somewhat seedy, I met up with jdlover23 and we went to the FLounge there for a shower. We were both decidedly underwhelmed with the lounge, though they did have some exceptionally yummy little Asian nibbles.
Upon reboarding I was dismayed to discover the two other seats in my mini-cabin were occupied and even more dismayed to realise one was occupied by a very short person who turned out to be a toddler. I’m not a particularly kid-friendly people at the best of times, but the idea of toddler + hangover filled me with dread. At least it wasn’t sitting next to me.
As it turned out, it was one of the well-behaved species and really didn’t affect the rest of my totally uneventful flight at all.
Next instalment: Ryanair! And Seat 80A on the A380! (And hopefully jdlover23’s perspective from the lofty heights of F)
Recently took a trip to London to attend a party I really really wanted to go to.
Being a destitute student (tautology, I know), I sought the advice of the good folk of AFF as to the stingiest way to do the trip. I finally settled on a YASA, which pretty much wiped out my points balance, but covered all those pesky taxes and fees and things.
I chose a flight a day later than I’d planned so that I could take advantage of the FLounge guest spot of jdlover23, me being a mere SG and all. It is completely irrelevant that jdlover23 is WP, because he was flying F. I was really good at sucking back in the jealous green bile that kept spewing out of me every time I spoke to him and I’m pretty sure he had no idea at all that I was envious.
At T-80, I managed to nab seat 40G on QF30
(747-438), again having received assurance from the good folk at AFF that it is, indeed, a darn good Y seat.We had all sorts of grand plans to maximise our FLounge time, including travelling carry-on only and checking in online. We planned things meticulously and when we arrived at the airport…
I realised I’d totally forgotten to check in online.
I endured much eye-rolling and ‘pffffting’ from my fellow AFFer, but rather than abandoning me, he accompanied me to the service desk, where we were assured by the meanest looking dragon in history that there was NO WAY we could possibly check in for QF30 five hours before the flight. We politely pointed out that we could have checked in online and she gave us some answer that sounded vaguely like a threat, along with a look that had me fearing her head was about to do a 360, so we went away meekly, but used lots of words that would totally come out as …. if I tried to repeat them here (stoopid AFF swear filter).
So we trundled off to the Dom J Lounge, used the computer and printer to check in online, hiked back to Int where, as is ALWAYS the case, I was randomly selected for the explosive test, while jdlover tapped his foot impatiently and shot me dark looks, muttering about wasted FLounge time and bimbos who couldn’t remember simple instructions like “make sure you check in online”.
But we did finally make it and had the place to ourselves. This was my first MEL FLounge experience and I was really excited, even though I know I came across as totally cool and worldly and WP-like.
We had discussed the distant possibility that the FLounge dragon might take pity on the poor lass who had to travel Y whilst her companion swanned around in F and offer an op-up to PE, but it was the Day of the Unsympathetic QF Dragon. She barely glanced at my freshly printed BP while she fawned over jdlover23 (he is a rather goodlooking chap), who clearly had a far greater right to be there than me, even though he was being difficult by insisting on getting a proper cardboard BP so he could put the pretty new colour in his scrapbook of BPs or whatever.
Because of my blonde moment, we had only four hours (instead of the planned five), but reassured each other we could make up for it by drinking a bit quicker.:mrgreen:
Now, about the drinking. Both jdlover23 and I are partial to a tipple (yes, that’s a reference to a bogan beverage in his handle) and I always convince myself that I can drink like a bloke, only I can’t and get obnoxiously giggly and pissed, as anyone who was on the ATA Wake can attest. But then I forget the latter bit and try to keep up anyway.
So anyway, we settled in for some tucker, ordering a Taittinger to start (and then again, and then another champagne, and then the waiter suggested another one that was off the menu and probably was something cheap and nasty because it tasted odd, but we finished it anyway and then ordered Taittinger again to wash the taste out). I’ll let the pictures tell the story of dinner.
Menu:
Starter: asparagus and poached egg. Very awesome.
Main: Salt’n’pepper squid - far superior to the bland offering of said dish in the SYD FLounge
Dessert: I can’t remember, all I do remember was jdlover23’s was some sort of chocolately deliciousness that was way better and I got serious food envy.
Once we were done, jdlover23 wandered off to enjoy a massage while I switched to red wine (always a smart idea – not), battled with the wifi and fiddled on my iPad, which must have been faulty because the screen was all fuzzy.
Apparently the massage was cough and jdlover23 had to order several more beverages to wash down the disappointment.
Suffice to say, by the time we were called to board, neither of us exactly made a beeline to the gate – it was more like a staggery-zigzag and seemed to take an inordinately long time.
Upon boarding, he turned left and I turned right and luckily I wasn’t even thinking clearly enough to contemplate trying to give myself an op-up.
All good though, because, let me tell you, 40G is a choice seat. On the aisle of a four-across config, directly behind PE (I could peek through the curtain and smugly note they had less legroom than me) and with a wall behind me. It’s like your own little mini-cabin. Nobody in front to recline into me and nobody behind to cough when I chose to recline. Even better, there was someone on the other aisle and nobody in the two seats between.
It was so good that I hardly felt even a twinge of jealousy when jdlover23 SMS’d a picture of his seat in F.
After take-off, I realised I could no longer contact my fellow AFFer by text message, so scribbled a note on the corner of my boarding pass and gave it to the FA to take up the front. To this day I have no idea what it said and jdlover23 took great delight later advising me it was incomprehensible gibberish. But he did come back to PlebLand and admired my seat, then I demanded that he score me some F jammies.
At one stage I asked the other guy in my little mini-cabin whether he was a WP. I actually said “WP”. Or, more accurately, slurred it. He, not surprisingly, had no idea what I was talking about and ostentatiously put his headphones in so I wouldn’t speak to him again.
When jdlover23 came back with the jammies, I was disappointed to discover they were the same grey jammies I’d previously scored in J. But I managed to put them on before I passed out, pretty much for the remainder of the leg. Classy. No doubt I snored.
Upon arrival in Hong Kong, feeling somewhat seedy, I met up with jdlover23 and we went to the FLounge there for a shower. We were both decidedly underwhelmed with the lounge, though they did have some exceptionally yummy little Asian nibbles.
Upon reboarding I was dismayed to discover the two other seats in my mini-cabin were occupied and even more dismayed to realise one was occupied by a very short person who turned out to be a toddler. I’m not a particularly kid-friendly people at the best of times, but the idea of toddler + hangover filled me with dread. At least it wasn’t sitting next to me.
As it turned out, it was one of the well-behaved species and really didn’t affect the rest of my totally uneventful flight at all.
Next instalment: Ryanair! And Seat 80A on the A380! (And hopefully jdlover23’s perspective from the lofty heights of F)
