scaredeycat
Member
- Joined
- Jul 10, 2007
- Posts
- 402
Gentle reader,
Welcome to my first trip report. There are certain things we may need to get straight first up. Let me say at the outset that I like aeroplanes. I think they are a tribute to mankind’s ingenuity and a triumph of physics. Every time I see one flying overhead I marvel at the fact that such an enormous machine is capable of defying gravity. They arrive and depart with such precision that it is easy to forget the body of scientific knowledge that has accumulated in just over a century, prior to which the thought of flying from one side of the world to the other in 24 hours would have seemed ridiculous.
I love aeroplanes – it’s just flying that I find terrifying. Turbulence is not my friend. Even the noises of the various control surfaces being deployed can be disconcerting at times. It’s not every flight that I feel this way, and in fact in recent years I have been able to cope a lot better, without the need for medication (although my threshold for bubbles in the lounge has diminished as well); but my trip last week was a little different to usual – it was a return journey SIN – NRT on one of JAL’s 787s.
I suspect most of you know by now that they are currently grounded.
My trip coincided with the bad news that led to this decision.
Not good when your name is Scaredeycat!
The Cat family needed a break. The previous couple of Januarys were both spent in New Zealand, and somewhere different beckoned. Yours truly didn’t want to be away for more than a couple of weeks, and jet lag usually ruins the first few days of European trips, so staying somewhere close to Hobart’s time zone became the order of the day. South East Asia? Beijing? Hong Kong? QF had a J class sale on, but we couldn’t decide where to go – in the end we booked Singapore, and decided to think about it for a while. Thank God we ruled out Beijing. According to the papers its air pollution was off the scale last week. I addition, just before we left a colleague of mine had been there and reported temperatures between -10 and -5 degrees C. Not very appealing. At the other end of the scale, I don’t mind warm weather, but 2 weeks of South East Asian heat and humidity would have been exhausting (which is why we avoid the Australian East Coast in Summer).
So what about Tokyo? Sure, it would be cold, but not as cold as China, and it’s clean, the people are polite, and it’s a city I hadn’t really explored to any great extent (even though I have visited Japan on numerous occasions). Besides which, we could fly the newest, most exciting (and dare I say it, sexiest) plane in the world – the Dreamliner.
Tokyo it was.
Our time away coincided with one of Tasmania’s worst bushfire seasons in years, but the day of our departure was cool and cloudy. The Hobart Qantas Club is not a flagship lounge, but to be fair we don’t live in one of the world’s financial capitals, and it’s arguably a better effort than can be found in bigger cities elsewhere. You get a view of the tarmac, hot food and grog and it’s now airside, which was not the case until a few months ago.
Take off and climb were on the bumpy side, but Bass Strait was benign on the day and the flight was otherwise unremarkable. I had been impressed only a few weeks earlier by the enthusiasm of another crew who greeted me by name and lavished me with quite unfamiliar attention, but no such offerings were in store on this flight. Maybe it had only been a short term campaign.
One of the problems with residing in Hobart is that QF has lousy connections. The result was a 6 hour layover – in the Melbourne F lounge. Things could be worse. This was actually our first visit ( a big thank you to my friends at AFF, as without this site no one in the family would ever have made it past silver). The lounge has been described many times before, but I was surprised to note that everything seemed to have a pink tinge ( as a result of the lighting). The sashimi was excellent. Kitten minor, who is 12, had 2 servings. She was disappointed to miss out on the spa, but some things have to wait.
6 hours is a long time though, and we were ready to go.
I like the A380. It’s not an elegant plane to look at, though. The fuselage seems stubby, despite its length, and its overall proportions just aren’t as appealing as, say, a 747. As a passenger though the A380 is hard to beat. Take off and climb seem unhurried, and it is so quiet. The J cabin is particularly pleasant, especially “Emerald City”. Only 2 things could disturb the peace – turbulence and little children. We had both.
The sprog, in this case, belonged to someone else. Mummy made an effort, but in the end it was to no avail. Endearing coos and giggles were punctuated by rather more frequent shrieking and wailing. It wasn’t there all trip, but it happened often enough to make one wish that below a certain age perhaps children could be checked in with luggage. Headphones and grog ease the discomfort somewhat, but never take it away completely.
The same could be said for turbulence. I once sat next to a retired flight attendant on a flight from ADL to MEL, during which most of my fellow passengers had turned a pale shade of green halfway across Victoria. She explained to me that the likelihood of dying in a plane crash was so low that she just imagined she was on a ride at Disneyland and did her best to enjoy the experience. Now I understand the physics and the sophistication of modern aircraft in dealing with turbulence, but I can’t see myself ever enjoying it. My best defence nowadays is lying recumbent and shutting my eyes. The AVOD was on pause over most of Western Australia.
I am aware that when writing a trip report it has become de rigeur to recount what one ate and drank, but I’m afraid that those details have escaped me. I do recall fish (perhaps blue eye), asian style and perhaps a little too spicy; other family members had chicken which was disappointingly forgettable. Service was efficient without being personalised; my daughter wasn’t addressed as “Sir” on this flight, much to her relief.
Singapore was hot, as usual. It poured on and off, but thankfully held off long enough to allow the New Year’s Eve fireworks to proceed without any problems. We had a nice view from the Pan Pacific Hotel, where the service was excellent.
We visited Marina Bay Sands and visited the Artscience museum on the waterfront, currently displaying a Lego exposition. It’s actually worth a look – the artistry is quite clever.
Singapore was otherwise unremarkable. You may be wondering why I would go to the bother of writing about such a mundane holiday.
The reason, of course, is the 787.
Google “Dreamliner” and you’ll get about 10 million hits. Recent ones will all be about the fact that the entire fleet has been grounded worldwide, but the problems that have surfaced in the last few days weren’t in evidence when I booked the family on flights from SIN to NRT and back a few months ago. At the time we were all excited and looking forward to the experience. I was a little concerned that the plane was still in its early days and may have teething problems, but reassured that the certification process was extremely rigorous and the reality was that Boeings make very reliable aircraft. Why should this one be any different? I slept well the night before.
Any doubts were dispelled at the gate at Changi, where a Very Important looking executive from JAL was there to meet and greet and congratulate us for our impeccable judgment in choosing their spiffy new plane to fly on. In actual fact they were celebrating 40 years of servicing Singapore. There was even a banner with all the crew lined up for a photo opportunity. As we were taxiing the same people appeared on the tarmac to wave us goodbye. You don’t get this when you fly out of Hobart.
Our trip this time was in Y; no special deals or upgrades to pointy-end us unfortunately. Everyone was upbeat as we boarded, and we even got a Platinum Welcome (which is more than QF gave us).
The plane looked brand new. The upholstery in J is a black fabric, pale beige in Y. One wondered how durable this would prove after a few spilled reds. Soft LED lighting in a variety of colour schemes (including blue downlighting in the loo) enhanced the appearance. Most of you would be aware of the windows – larger than any other jet, with a new kind of window shade which turns it incrementally from clear to almost completely opaque, shaded blue. It means you can still see the AVOD but also have a view outside with minimal glare. It does take a few seconds to go from opaque to clear and back again, but it’s nice to be able to see outside with the shade almost closed.
JAL takes a different approach to the safety video. No cricketers or hobbits here. Like BA it resorts to animation, but there is no touchy feely stuff. Passengers are warned to keep their seatbelts secure as cartoon figures bounce up and down and the wing flaps during turbulence; safety slides are shown being deployed and people escape down them and then run away from the aircraft. As least it doesn’t explode in the background (or get eaten by Godzilla).
The AVOD was OK, although the choice for English speakers was rather limited. I suspect Japanese customers of Qantas find their choices similarly restricted. The quality of the LED screen was noticeably inferior to my wife’s first generation iPad.
I spent a lot of the time staring out of the window at the wing and I have to say it is perhaps the most elegant in modern civil aviation. Unhindered by winglets, it tapers and sweeps backwards, not unlike a swallow’s. It certainly flexes; perhaps I don’t notice it as much in other aircraft since becoming accustomed to sitting in the forward cabin.
What I wasn’t expecting was the rather high pitched whine when the engines spooled up. It was quite a contrast with the A380; it is supposed to be much quieter than other planes on the outside, but it wasn’t on the inside (certainly not where we were seated, behind the engines).
The service was efficient but otherwise unremarkable. Not so the food. Mrs Cat chose the chicken, but like a typical feline turned her nose up when it arrived. It looked like the contents of a tin of Dine. My fish wasn’t much better. Mental notes were made to buy sandwiches for consumption on the return leg.
The other striking aspect of this aircraft is its size. It really isn’t that big at all. About 40% of the length is allocated to J, and the Y cabin is divided into 2 halves by loos and a galley. The Y cabin feels wide, but short. Seating is 2-4-2, but it doesn’t feel like you’re sharing the space with a huge number of people. As a result it does feel relatively spacious.
I couldn’t detect any difference in humidity or cabin pressure.
Landing was straightforward and there were unfortunately no banners or dancing girls to greet us on arrival at Narita. No smoke in the cabin either.
“It always rains in Tokyo – make sure you have umbrellas” cautioned my mother, who knows these things. Not while we were there – the sky was blue, no smog or clouds, just bright sunshine. It wasn’t warm, of course, but it only felt really chilly when the wind got up. New Year is a bit like August in Paris – a lot of Tokyo just shuts down for several days. One thing makes it special, however – the grounds of the Imperial Palace open for a few hours and the Emperor addresses his people. We had to go.
There are many people still alive who remember the days when the Emperor was a god. There is still a mystique about Japanese royalty that makes their peers elsewhere in the world seem a little common by comparison. No topless photos or even pressing the flesh – the family remained safely ensconced behind a glass barrier protecting them from the riff-raff beyond. There seemed to be a sea of people flowing slowly up the slope, past the gates and the moat, but for the most part it was all terribly well behaved. The exceptions were a couple of pushy little boys and a determined, tiny obaachan whose hands formed a wedge, forcing a gap between the crowd before her. Thousands of little Japanese flags were handed out and as the masses poured resolutely up the hill towards the palace it reminded me of Birnam Wood marching on Dunsinane. No hint of rebellion, of course. The appearance of the family was greeted by cheers and then by respectful silence as the Emperor delivered his New Year address. The ritual was repeated several times that day. I have no idea what he said, but the people seemed satisfied.
Most Australians visit Japan in winter to ski. The Cat family is almost entirely devoid of any sporting genes (with the exception of golf) and any activity that involves gravity tends to culminate in admission to hospital, so winter sports are off the agenda. A visit to the mountains was in order, however, to see one of those wonders of nature possibly unique to Japan – snow monkeys.
The Japanese love nothing more than a chance to soak in an onsen (hot spa), and there is a valley in the hills not far from Nagano where a tribe of Japanese Macaques while away winter soaking in hot springs. It’s quite a sight, really quite magical in a way. I’m not sure that there is anything like it anywhere else in the world.
It was during this time in Japan that the Dreamliner hit the front pages – for all the wrong reasons. 3 days in a row there were incidents, all of which involved JAL. There was talk the fleet might be grounded. I was getting nervous. The night before our flight back from Tokyo was far from restful. “Don’t be silly,” I told myself. I availed myself of the bubbles in the First Class JAL lounge at Narita and managed to keep down a perfectly acceptable breakfast.
Mrs Cat never had any doubts – the only thing she was worried about was getting another serve of pet food on the plane. The Nasi Goreng proved to be a vast improvement of the tin of Dine on the earlier flight.
It took a couple of hours before the nerves stopped jangling after take off. Thoughts of smoking lithium ion batteries were difficult to dismiss, but after a while I figured that there was nothing I could do to influence our fate and I may as well enjoy the trip. It got bumpy just north of the Phillipines and once again the wings seemed to flap like crazy, but I managed a couple of movies and kept my eyes open this time. I was relieved to get off in Singapore.
There was a lady at Changi standing outside QF and BA’s First Lounge shooing away the riff-raff when we presented for our return leg to Melbourne. I thought she would look down her nose when she realised we were mere WPs, but to my surprise (after reading some of the threads here on AFF) we were ushered in. I was expecting chaos, but it wasn’t crowded at all. A much better experience than the SATS lounge to which we had originally been directed. I’m afraid the latter is rather the worse for wear, the food is mediocre and the ambience is depressing. Best avoided if possible.
I was surprised to see six seats in Emerald City occupied by minors this time round. One was barely a few months old, but I overheard father say that he had drugged the child and it obviously worked as we didn’t hear a peep. The seat across the aisle from me was taken by a little girl who was probably 5 years old. Maybe she was still on London time, because her overhead light stayed on well into the wee small hours as she sat transfixed by My Little Pony. The dinner service was delayed at least sixty minutes by Clear Air Turbulence (CAT, ironically) – which I seem to recall reading somewhere was regarded by some pilots as being rather treacherous. That could have been my fevered imagination, of course. I gave dinner a miss and resorted to lying down with my eyes shut again. Sleep came very much later after much jiggling around but was rudely interrupted when the young lady across the aisle somehow managed to fall on top of me, presumably on her way back from the loo. I felt a little cross, but she apologised politely and I told her not to worry. That was it for rest, unfortunately.
We arrived home on the 16[SUP]th[/SUP] of January. The very next day a 787 flown by ANA made an emergency landing in Takamatsu, Japan, and since then the entire fleet has been grounded worldwide. I think it’s a pity, because it is a beautiful aeroplane – but so was the Comet. There are some issues to work out, and I wish Boeing well. In the meantime, I’ll take an Airbus, thanks very much.
Welcome to my first trip report. There are certain things we may need to get straight first up. Let me say at the outset that I like aeroplanes. I think they are a tribute to mankind’s ingenuity and a triumph of physics. Every time I see one flying overhead I marvel at the fact that such an enormous machine is capable of defying gravity. They arrive and depart with such precision that it is easy to forget the body of scientific knowledge that has accumulated in just over a century, prior to which the thought of flying from one side of the world to the other in 24 hours would have seemed ridiculous.
I love aeroplanes – it’s just flying that I find terrifying. Turbulence is not my friend. Even the noises of the various control surfaces being deployed can be disconcerting at times. It’s not every flight that I feel this way, and in fact in recent years I have been able to cope a lot better, without the need for medication (although my threshold for bubbles in the lounge has diminished as well); but my trip last week was a little different to usual – it was a return journey SIN – NRT on one of JAL’s 787s.
I suspect most of you know by now that they are currently grounded.
My trip coincided with the bad news that led to this decision.
Not good when your name is Scaredeycat!
The Cat family needed a break. The previous couple of Januarys were both spent in New Zealand, and somewhere different beckoned. Yours truly didn’t want to be away for more than a couple of weeks, and jet lag usually ruins the first few days of European trips, so staying somewhere close to Hobart’s time zone became the order of the day. South East Asia? Beijing? Hong Kong? QF had a J class sale on, but we couldn’t decide where to go – in the end we booked Singapore, and decided to think about it for a while. Thank God we ruled out Beijing. According to the papers its air pollution was off the scale last week. I addition, just before we left a colleague of mine had been there and reported temperatures between -10 and -5 degrees C. Not very appealing. At the other end of the scale, I don’t mind warm weather, but 2 weeks of South East Asian heat and humidity would have been exhausting (which is why we avoid the Australian East Coast in Summer).
So what about Tokyo? Sure, it would be cold, but not as cold as China, and it’s clean, the people are polite, and it’s a city I hadn’t really explored to any great extent (even though I have visited Japan on numerous occasions). Besides which, we could fly the newest, most exciting (and dare I say it, sexiest) plane in the world – the Dreamliner.
Tokyo it was.
Our time away coincided with one of Tasmania’s worst bushfire seasons in years, but the day of our departure was cool and cloudy. The Hobart Qantas Club is not a flagship lounge, but to be fair we don’t live in one of the world’s financial capitals, and it’s arguably a better effort than can be found in bigger cities elsewhere. You get a view of the tarmac, hot food and grog and it’s now airside, which was not the case until a few months ago.
Take off and climb were on the bumpy side, but Bass Strait was benign on the day and the flight was otherwise unremarkable. I had been impressed only a few weeks earlier by the enthusiasm of another crew who greeted me by name and lavished me with quite unfamiliar attention, but no such offerings were in store on this flight. Maybe it had only been a short term campaign.
One of the problems with residing in Hobart is that QF has lousy connections. The result was a 6 hour layover – in the Melbourne F lounge. Things could be worse. This was actually our first visit ( a big thank you to my friends at AFF, as without this site no one in the family would ever have made it past silver). The lounge has been described many times before, but I was surprised to note that everything seemed to have a pink tinge ( as a result of the lighting). The sashimi was excellent. Kitten minor, who is 12, had 2 servings. She was disappointed to miss out on the spa, but some things have to wait.
6 hours is a long time though, and we were ready to go.
I like the A380. It’s not an elegant plane to look at, though. The fuselage seems stubby, despite its length, and its overall proportions just aren’t as appealing as, say, a 747. As a passenger though the A380 is hard to beat. Take off and climb seem unhurried, and it is so quiet. The J cabin is particularly pleasant, especially “Emerald City”. Only 2 things could disturb the peace – turbulence and little children. We had both.
The sprog, in this case, belonged to someone else. Mummy made an effort, but in the end it was to no avail. Endearing coos and giggles were punctuated by rather more frequent shrieking and wailing. It wasn’t there all trip, but it happened often enough to make one wish that below a certain age perhaps children could be checked in with luggage. Headphones and grog ease the discomfort somewhat, but never take it away completely.
The same could be said for turbulence. I once sat next to a retired flight attendant on a flight from ADL to MEL, during which most of my fellow passengers had turned a pale shade of green halfway across Victoria. She explained to me that the likelihood of dying in a plane crash was so low that she just imagined she was on a ride at Disneyland and did her best to enjoy the experience. Now I understand the physics and the sophistication of modern aircraft in dealing with turbulence, but I can’t see myself ever enjoying it. My best defence nowadays is lying recumbent and shutting my eyes. The AVOD was on pause over most of Western Australia.
I am aware that when writing a trip report it has become de rigeur to recount what one ate and drank, but I’m afraid that those details have escaped me. I do recall fish (perhaps blue eye), asian style and perhaps a little too spicy; other family members had chicken which was disappointingly forgettable. Service was efficient without being personalised; my daughter wasn’t addressed as “Sir” on this flight, much to her relief.
Singapore was hot, as usual. It poured on and off, but thankfully held off long enough to allow the New Year’s Eve fireworks to proceed without any problems. We had a nice view from the Pan Pacific Hotel, where the service was excellent.
We visited Marina Bay Sands and visited the Artscience museum on the waterfront, currently displaying a Lego exposition. It’s actually worth a look – the artistry is quite clever.
Singapore was otherwise unremarkable. You may be wondering why I would go to the bother of writing about such a mundane holiday.
The reason, of course, is the 787.
Google “Dreamliner” and you’ll get about 10 million hits. Recent ones will all be about the fact that the entire fleet has been grounded worldwide, but the problems that have surfaced in the last few days weren’t in evidence when I booked the family on flights from SIN to NRT and back a few months ago. At the time we were all excited and looking forward to the experience. I was a little concerned that the plane was still in its early days and may have teething problems, but reassured that the certification process was extremely rigorous and the reality was that Boeings make very reliable aircraft. Why should this one be any different? I slept well the night before.
Any doubts were dispelled at the gate at Changi, where a Very Important looking executive from JAL was there to meet and greet and congratulate us for our impeccable judgment in choosing their spiffy new plane to fly on. In actual fact they were celebrating 40 years of servicing Singapore. There was even a banner with all the crew lined up for a photo opportunity. As we were taxiing the same people appeared on the tarmac to wave us goodbye. You don’t get this when you fly out of Hobart.
Our trip this time was in Y; no special deals or upgrades to pointy-end us unfortunately. Everyone was upbeat as we boarded, and we even got a Platinum Welcome (which is more than QF gave us).
The plane looked brand new. The upholstery in J is a black fabric, pale beige in Y. One wondered how durable this would prove after a few spilled reds. Soft LED lighting in a variety of colour schemes (including blue downlighting in the loo) enhanced the appearance. Most of you would be aware of the windows – larger than any other jet, with a new kind of window shade which turns it incrementally from clear to almost completely opaque, shaded blue. It means you can still see the AVOD but also have a view outside with minimal glare. It does take a few seconds to go from opaque to clear and back again, but it’s nice to be able to see outside with the shade almost closed.
JAL takes a different approach to the safety video. No cricketers or hobbits here. Like BA it resorts to animation, but there is no touchy feely stuff. Passengers are warned to keep their seatbelts secure as cartoon figures bounce up and down and the wing flaps during turbulence; safety slides are shown being deployed and people escape down them and then run away from the aircraft. As least it doesn’t explode in the background (or get eaten by Godzilla).
The AVOD was OK, although the choice for English speakers was rather limited. I suspect Japanese customers of Qantas find their choices similarly restricted. The quality of the LED screen was noticeably inferior to my wife’s first generation iPad.
I spent a lot of the time staring out of the window at the wing and I have to say it is perhaps the most elegant in modern civil aviation. Unhindered by winglets, it tapers and sweeps backwards, not unlike a swallow’s. It certainly flexes; perhaps I don’t notice it as much in other aircraft since becoming accustomed to sitting in the forward cabin.
What I wasn’t expecting was the rather high pitched whine when the engines spooled up. It was quite a contrast with the A380; it is supposed to be much quieter than other planes on the outside, but it wasn’t on the inside (certainly not where we were seated, behind the engines).
The service was efficient but otherwise unremarkable. Not so the food. Mrs Cat chose the chicken, but like a typical feline turned her nose up when it arrived. It looked like the contents of a tin of Dine. My fish wasn’t much better. Mental notes were made to buy sandwiches for consumption on the return leg.
The other striking aspect of this aircraft is its size. It really isn’t that big at all. About 40% of the length is allocated to J, and the Y cabin is divided into 2 halves by loos and a galley. The Y cabin feels wide, but short. Seating is 2-4-2, but it doesn’t feel like you’re sharing the space with a huge number of people. As a result it does feel relatively spacious.
I couldn’t detect any difference in humidity or cabin pressure.
Landing was straightforward and there were unfortunately no banners or dancing girls to greet us on arrival at Narita. No smoke in the cabin either.
“It always rains in Tokyo – make sure you have umbrellas” cautioned my mother, who knows these things. Not while we were there – the sky was blue, no smog or clouds, just bright sunshine. It wasn’t warm, of course, but it only felt really chilly when the wind got up. New Year is a bit like August in Paris – a lot of Tokyo just shuts down for several days. One thing makes it special, however – the grounds of the Imperial Palace open for a few hours and the Emperor addresses his people. We had to go.
There are many people still alive who remember the days when the Emperor was a god. There is still a mystique about Japanese royalty that makes their peers elsewhere in the world seem a little common by comparison. No topless photos or even pressing the flesh – the family remained safely ensconced behind a glass barrier protecting them from the riff-raff beyond. There seemed to be a sea of people flowing slowly up the slope, past the gates and the moat, but for the most part it was all terribly well behaved. The exceptions were a couple of pushy little boys and a determined, tiny obaachan whose hands formed a wedge, forcing a gap between the crowd before her. Thousands of little Japanese flags were handed out and as the masses poured resolutely up the hill towards the palace it reminded me of Birnam Wood marching on Dunsinane. No hint of rebellion, of course. The appearance of the family was greeted by cheers and then by respectful silence as the Emperor delivered his New Year address. The ritual was repeated several times that day. I have no idea what he said, but the people seemed satisfied.
Most Australians visit Japan in winter to ski. The Cat family is almost entirely devoid of any sporting genes (with the exception of golf) and any activity that involves gravity tends to culminate in admission to hospital, so winter sports are off the agenda. A visit to the mountains was in order, however, to see one of those wonders of nature possibly unique to Japan – snow monkeys.
The Japanese love nothing more than a chance to soak in an onsen (hot spa), and there is a valley in the hills not far from Nagano where a tribe of Japanese Macaques while away winter soaking in hot springs. It’s quite a sight, really quite magical in a way. I’m not sure that there is anything like it anywhere else in the world.
It was during this time in Japan that the Dreamliner hit the front pages – for all the wrong reasons. 3 days in a row there were incidents, all of which involved JAL. There was talk the fleet might be grounded. I was getting nervous. The night before our flight back from Tokyo was far from restful. “Don’t be silly,” I told myself. I availed myself of the bubbles in the First Class JAL lounge at Narita and managed to keep down a perfectly acceptable breakfast.
Mrs Cat never had any doubts – the only thing she was worried about was getting another serve of pet food on the plane. The Nasi Goreng proved to be a vast improvement of the tin of Dine on the earlier flight.
It took a couple of hours before the nerves stopped jangling after take off. Thoughts of smoking lithium ion batteries were difficult to dismiss, but after a while I figured that there was nothing I could do to influence our fate and I may as well enjoy the trip. It got bumpy just north of the Phillipines and once again the wings seemed to flap like crazy, but I managed a couple of movies and kept my eyes open this time. I was relieved to get off in Singapore.
There was a lady at Changi standing outside QF and BA’s First Lounge shooing away the riff-raff when we presented for our return leg to Melbourne. I thought she would look down her nose when she realised we were mere WPs, but to my surprise (after reading some of the threads here on AFF) we were ushered in. I was expecting chaos, but it wasn’t crowded at all. A much better experience than the SATS lounge to which we had originally been directed. I’m afraid the latter is rather the worse for wear, the food is mediocre and the ambience is depressing. Best avoided if possible.
I was surprised to see six seats in Emerald City occupied by minors this time round. One was barely a few months old, but I overheard father say that he had drugged the child and it obviously worked as we didn’t hear a peep. The seat across the aisle from me was taken by a little girl who was probably 5 years old. Maybe she was still on London time, because her overhead light stayed on well into the wee small hours as she sat transfixed by My Little Pony. The dinner service was delayed at least sixty minutes by Clear Air Turbulence (CAT, ironically) – which I seem to recall reading somewhere was regarded by some pilots as being rather treacherous. That could have been my fevered imagination, of course. I gave dinner a miss and resorted to lying down with my eyes shut again. Sleep came very much later after much jiggling around but was rudely interrupted when the young lady across the aisle somehow managed to fall on top of me, presumably on her way back from the loo. I felt a little cross, but she apologised politely and I told her not to worry. That was it for rest, unfortunately.
We arrived home on the 16[SUP]th[/SUP] of January. The very next day a 787 flown by ANA made an emergency landing in Takamatsu, Japan, and since then the entire fleet has been grounded worldwide. I think it’s a pity, because it is a beautiful aeroplane – but so was the Comet. There are some issues to work out, and I wish Boeing well. In the meantime, I’ll take an Airbus, thanks very much.
