JFK-LHR
VS46
Airbus A340-600
Seats : 8A and 9A
Given that we were travelling light and that a cab back to JFK would have been during the busy evening rush hour we decided to walk the two blocks north to the E train station and get the subway to the airport. The journey to the platform was not without difficulty. The lift from street level down to the concourse was easy enough but we then had to attract the attention of the man in the booth in order to get through the gate as the turnstiles were too narrow to get a bag though. This took some time and the balancing act of swiping my metro card, opening the heavy gate and getting m bag through was rather more comedic than I had expected. The escalator was out of service so rather than try and carry our bags down the stairs we walked over to the lift: cue much pushing and shoving from other committed to get into the tiny lift. Mrs BiH was less than amused at this point and I got the "you are an idiot" look for suggesting that we take the subway. Eventually we made it down to the platform and a few minutes later we were on an E train to Jamaica Centre. The journey was quick and we got a seat at Queens Plaza. The interchange onto the AirTrain at Jamaica Centre is a long walk with a few lifts but you eventually arrive at the AirTrain platform well exercised. The view from the monorail was initially one of gridlocked traffic ("I wouldn't want to sit in that remarked Mrs BiH), the cargo area and finally the terminal buildings that comprise JFK. We passed through terminals 1 and 2 where the stations have been built just outside the terminal before reaching terminal 4 where the station has been integrated into the rebuilt terminal. The journey had been quicker than I suspect it would have taken in a taxi but nowhere near as comfortable.
We arrived at the Virgin check-in area. There was a long queue for the bank of Economy desks, a few people waiting for the Premium Economy desks but the Upper Class desks were empty. Our bags were tagged and boarding passes printed with little fuss by a friendly agent. One of the porters took our bags over to the TSA screening area as T4 still doesn't have an integrated baggage system; those in PE and E had to join another queue to drop off their bags.
We walked across to the Virgin Clubhouse which is located on the same level as check-in and before security. We had visited before when we flew Singapore Airlines First from NY to Frankfurt. We were warmly welcomed and an offer a tour which we declined having visited before. As you enter the Clubhouse there is a bar immediately as you walk in with seating behind and on both sides. The right hand side as you enter has a magnificent view of the apron but all of the seats were occupied. We found a seat on the other side and were approached by a waitress who brought over our drinks (they had run out of diet coke so I tried a coke zero but didn't like it and was offered an immediate replacement) and asked which flight we were on so that she could tell us the latest we could order something to eat. A nice and useful touch. Mrs BiH wanted to sleep on board so she had soup and a salad; it was too early for me to eat so I politely declined. There was free wifi in the lounge but it was sluggish and I eventually gave up without managing to do much more than see a few email headers but not the body of the message.
Our flight was called and we left the lounge to make our way through security. I'm not a fan of pre-security lounges. By the time I reach the lounge I want the stressful bits of traversing an airport to be over. The queue at security was mercifully short and despite having to remove items of clothing and separate parts of my hand luggage as if it was laundry day with whites, coloured items and electronic goods being segregated and never the twain shall mix, I made it through to the other side. Neither of us were selected for the nude-o-scope. In fact it appeared not to be in operation. We arrived at the gate to find that boarding appeared to be nearly complete aside from those of us in the lounge. The queue to get onto the jet bridge was separated in to two, one for those in Economy and the other for Premium Economy and Upper Class; they meet immediately so there's no real advantage unless the economy queue is massive.
We boarded through 2L and turned left into the Upper Class cabin. On overnight flights from the east coast, Virgin divide the UC cabin in two. Several rows at the front are a dedicated snooze zone where the lights are dimmed once the seat belt signs are turned off. No meals are served (if you are seated here and want to eat, you can be served dinner at the bar) and noise is kept to a minimum. Unsure of whether we wanted to sleep all the way home we opted to sit in the normal area. Snooze packs were on every seat and pyjamas handed out to those who wanted them. Water, champagne and juice were offered; though ordered, mine juice never actually turned up so I walked to the bar to get it.
It was a good 20 minutes before we pushed back and made our way towards the JFK queue to depart. In that time I watched a number of men avail themselves of the opportunity to have a stewardess show them how their seat works. There were either a lot of ‘Virgin virgins’ on the flight or men who quite enjoy a stewardess leaning over them, pushing their buttons; I'll let you decide.
The lights were dimmed as we joined the snaking queue of aircraft waiting to depart JFK that evening. We twisted and turned through the various taxiways, through and joining what seemed to be a never ending queue of aircraft. At night, JFK always seems particularly dark and a little sinister, or perhaps I’m always sad to leave. Before long we reach the threshold of the runway and the familiar whoosh of four A340 engines on full power told me that we were about to take off and indeed we did, soaring in to the dark night’s sky. At an angle, I tried capturing the bright lights of Long Island.
Once the fasten signs were extinguished the crew sprang into action and quickly had those in the snooze zone tucked up for the night. To the obvious relief of many of the crew all but four of the remaining (full) cabin decided to turn in for the night rather than take dinner.
The menu had two different options, both presented on a single tray. I opted for the hot tray which was a very competent beef bordelaise served with broad beans and carrots, both of which had a reasonable bite to them. The beef was soft and the sauce remarkably good for airline food. The side salad had a overly sharp, gloopy dressing on it but the vegetables were crunchy and fresh. I had a glass of shiraz with it which was dreadful and abandoned after two sips.
I had been asked for my choice of pudding or cheese when I ordered the hot plate but by the time it arrived, I was full and tired; the rest of the dim cabin and the noise of gentle sleep osmosing towards my seat. I picked at the cheddar but quickly gave up and my plate was taken. I was asked if I wanted to be woken for breakfast to which I said no. I was reminded that I could always pick from the selection set out on the bar in the morning. I went to the bathroom and changed into the supplied pajamas which felt quite thin, so thin in fact that I opted to keep my trousers on and just use the top.
I fancied watching an episode of something before turning in for the night and here the limitation of the UCS once again showed. You can lounge up to a certain point but then your choice is either to accept that’s the limit or get up and flip it into a flat bed. The elongated soft Z shape that is akin to a lazy boy just doesn’t exist and so I gave up and made my bed. It was quite dark and I fumbled about with the bed linen for some time. Three crew members watched me at various stages as they walked through the cabin with none offering to help. Finally as the fourth walked past I decided to ask for some help and begrudgingly, it was offered. I wasn’t quite tired so I watched TV for another 15 minutes in an uncomfortable position leaning against the window before giving up and trying to sleep.
As a bed, the UCS is great. Its real limitation is that it feels narrow and if you are an active sleeper you might find yourself bashing against the sides at times. I must have slept well because I woke up as the breakfast service had finished. After I changed out my pajama top I grabbed a glass of orange juice and a bacon roll from the bar. The crew member at the bar said quite tersely, that I would have to drink the juice quickly as they wanted to collect all glasses in a few minutes. We were 45 minutes out of London so this seemed a little excessive. Sure enough, within a few minutes of getting back to my seat he was hovering over me to collect my glass.
Fourty-five minutes later we were on the ground taxiing our way over to Terminal 3 where after a short wait whilst the jetbridge was properly attached we exited the aircraft via 1L. Mrs BiH and I made our way through Passport Control quickly and our bags followed shortly thereafter. Neither of us had eaten breakfast so we made our way over to the Revivals (arrival) lounge which is located near the T3 car-park.
After a greasy (bacon), tasteless (eggs), burnt (sausage) and okay (mushroom) breakfast we walked to our car and drove home.