ClueByFour
Jan 7, 03, 4:28 pm
28-Dec
PIT-PHL-LGW on US
Some time ago, I was informed that I’d be spending a bit of time in the UK for work. As it turned out, those plans changed somewhat in terms of the dates, but I decided to keep my scheduled trip to London and turn it into the first real vacation I’ve had in a few years. As such, I found myself parking the car in the long term lot at PIT, and making my way to the terminal on a snowy day.
US has really been cutting staffing levels to (or past) the bare minimum during their stint in Chapter 11, and the Envoy/International First check-in desks at PIT are no exception. I was the only person in the Envoy line; however, all agents in these positions had been drafted to help process the coach queue which I conservatively estimated at 200+ people deep—quite amazing when you consider that there are only two international departures per day (a 767-200 to LGW and a A330-300 to FRA). The first free agent summoned me over, and quickly checked my bag thru to LGW (complete with the Envoy and priority handling tags, thus insuring lousy service. More on this later).
I proceeded downstairs thru security and took the people movers to the landside terminal. Figuring myself to be on a roll, I headed to the US Club in the center core, and asked for drink coupons (which one gets in the non-PHL gateway city clubs). The agent responded by giving me a single drink coupon and carefully making note of my name, flight number, etc. When I asked for a second coupon (as my flight did not leave for well over an hour), I was rebuffed. I made my way to the bar and ordered an Amstel. While drinking the beer, I made several phone calls to friends and work (first vacation in a year!). Upon draining the beer, I sauntered down to the US Club in the B concourse, and extracted another drink coupon from the agent there (since the entire system is not computerized, I managed to bang US out of a whole $5US worth of Amstel. Woo-hoo). I find the business practice of denying premium transatlantic passengers adequate libation in the non-PHL gateway amazing when one considers that the alcohol at the Envoy lounge in PHL is completely self-service. More on that later. After finishing my second beer, I headed over to the C concourse to board my flight to PHL.
(apologies in advance—I don’t have my BPs handy so I’ll have to skip the flight numbers.)
I was not surprised, unlike some of the masses already waiting in the boarding area, to find a 767 assigned for a short PIT-PHL sector. I’m sure that US was simply repositioning the aircraft for an international departure ex-PHL, and this flight was simply another example of why one really should place one’s hubs more than 350 miles apart. Boarding by this point had slowed to the “jetway creep.” After a few more cellular calls, I finally made my way to 2C, threw my bag into the overhead, and handed my overcoat and blazer off the the flight attendant responsible for my side of the F cabin. I was somewhat disappointed (as was my seat opponent) to learn that the predeparture beverage service was “water or not.” This would not be necessary if US would board the 767 thru the 2L door instead of the 1L door, which leads to congestion and an unwillingness on the part of the flight attendants to attempt a real beverage service. This same phenomenon also occurs on the A-321 narrowbody which is also boarded thru 1L (leading the entire coach cabin to troop past 26 domestic F seats on that equipment down a single aisle). I’ve seen it done on the A-321 from time to time, but not on the day in question. Alas…..
Pushback, taxi, and takeoff were all relatively smooth, and the captain announced about 38 minutes in transit to PHL, plus “10 to 15 minutes for flow positioning.” For those of you who are familiar with PHL, this can be translated into “38 minutes in transit, plus a minimum of 15 minutes of holding.” The flight attendants began to take drink orders. I noticed that the FA on my side of the cabin was addressing folks by name from the manifest; when he reached me he said “Something to drink, sir?” Now, those of you who know me are aware that my surname is not necessarily very “phonetic” in its pronunciation, it is by no means impossible to hit on the first try (I’d say an average of 1 in 5 people actually get it). I was more disappointed that he did not even try, and said “Not even going to try the name?” The FA laughed, and pointed out that various people and cultures are more offended by the incorrect attempt than by none at all. Eventually, I ordered a screwdriver (Finlandia and OJ for those keeping score). Drinks were followed by the snack basket—I simply had a few packets of cashews, since I knew that I’d have a few hours to kill in PHL during which I could find some more substantial nourishment.
At roughly 38m 2s after wheels up, the crew readied the cabin for arrival, despite the fact that they (presumably) had heard the captain’s announcement, and had (presumably) worked flights into PHL before, and thus should have (presumably) known that we would not be at the gate for at least 20-25 minutes. When I’m wearing a large overcoat, I don’t really want to sit with it and a blazer in my lap for half an hour, but it was imperative that the FA return to his jumpseat to work the Jumble in the newspaper for the duration of the flight. This gave me plenty of time to consider how dreadful the seats and first/Envoy cabin of US’ 767-200s really is (my return flight would be on one, and I was not looking forward to it). For those of you who are keeping track, I did not check to see if the IFE was activated—I’m assuming the PTVs were off for the duration due to the short flight. Eventually we arrived in PHL, where we taxied to one of the infamous remote stands off the A concourse and waited for the people movers to haul us to (IIRC) A6.
Upon arrival in the actual terminal, I made my way downstairs into the Envoy lounge, where a kind agent informed me that my flight to LGW would depart on time, and they would call boarding at approximately 40 minutes prior to departure for those in the lounge. Fair enough. I’ve always been a bit uninspired by the US Envoy lounge in PHL, in the sense that while being a nice enough departure lounge, it is far too small to support the number of international departures that leave PHL every day. I expect this to become worse in the short term as US adds SNN and DUB to its PHL international lineup; however, things should improve once (and if!) the new international concourse in PHL opens, as I’m assuming the new US club scheduled for that concourse will be both modern and mammoth (much in the way of the RCC in SFO’s international terminal, for instance). I found a place to sit in one of the “back” rooms, and grabbed some food and yet another Amstel from the bar. The food offerings consisted of some light appetizers, and a cold cut plate with a variety of breads, as well as some standard snack offerings (much like they stole a snack basket out of a front cabin and simply deposited the contents in the Envoy lounge). The wine selections were uninspired (IIRC, the bubbly was Moet White Star). The next 90 minutes consisted of dabbling at the food, sending a couple of last minute e-mails (and wishing that US would join AA in talking with T-mobile or anyone else to provide Wi-Fi access in its lounges/clubs), and consuming 2 additional Amstels. The LGW flight was called, and I grabbed my stuff (plus a pilfered bottle of water) and headed to the gate.
The gate area in the existing international (A) concourse at PHL is always a madhouse, and the evening in question was no exception. It seems that US has flights departing for MAD, FCO, LGW, FRA, MAN, MUC, and CDG within about a 2 hour period. In addition, BA has a couple of flights that leave right before and right after this flight bank, in addition to AF to CDG and LH to FRA about an hour earlier. It was, shall we say, chaotic. Fortunately, the agents in the club timed their announcement almost perfectly, in the sense that First and Envoy passengers were being invited to board right as I made it to the gate (having run end-around the hoard of people who summarily ignored the “wait until your row number is called” type announcements). As I made my way onto the aircraft, the purser checked my BP, handed me off to one of the Envoy FAs, and declared “Welcome to Envoy.” As I reached my seat (3F—second row of the forward Envoy cabin, on the middle-right of the 2-2-2 config) the FA in question took my overcoat and blazer, and inquired as to my choice of predeparture beverage (limited to mimosa, champagne, or water—and the champagne is relatively inexpensive stuff due to the predeparture duty implications). I took a mimosa, and settled into my seat. A pillow, blanket, and amenity kit (current contents are no longer Crabtree and Evelyn, but included toothbrush/toothpaste, lip balm, lotion, tissues, eye shades, socks, and ear plugs. The newspaper cart came around, completely devoid of any newspapers published in North America. Normally, I actually prefer the writing style of some of the non-tabloid London papers, but I wanted to get the preview of the upcoming NFL games. I noted the presence of a screaming child in the rear Envoy cabin (had seen the parents during the pre-board) and contemplated how angry I’d be if I was in the rearward cabin at this time (this has been placed in the trip report specifically to raise the hackles of the snob patrol—I would not take a child into business class, but if someone has the means or the miles to do so I suppose they are entitled—YMMV, as always). The captain announced that we’d be late off the gate as some “last minute cargo” was being loaded but due to favorable tailwinds would arrive in London on schedule. As it turned out, the delay was a shade over an hour, during which time most of the rear Envoy cabin not related or associated with the aforementioned screaming child was ushered into the forward Envoy cabin. I managed to retain an empty seat next to me, and can only assume this was due to my Chairman’s Preferred status—I had noted the purser carefully checking the manifest during the reseating process. I peeked into the F cabin, and a quick glance at the manifest showed 4 nonrevs and 2 Silver DM members (my own crude stereotype-meter indicates an award booking). Note that as of next month, the sleeper seats in the A-330 F cabin will be sold as Envoy seats, and assigned to either full fare Envoy customers, Chairman’s Preferred DM members, or VIPs in general. The food service has been “aligned” with Envoy for some time now.
Let me comment a bit about the Envoy cabin on US’ A-330s. I’ve flown transatlantic biz with AA, CO, BA (before the flat beds in Club World), and US. From a seat perspective, I believe US has them all beat. Before BA upped the arms race with flat beds in C/J, the US seat was the best arrangement over the Atlantic. It is roughly the same as the Quantas dreamtime seat, with about 14 ways (including two or three lumbar chambers) of electrical adjustment, including an “express recline” and “express return-seat-to-landing-config” controls. It also sports a dual intensity reading lamp on a moveable arm, which is especially beneficial in that it keeps the cabin dark as folks can turn off the overhead reading lamp. It also sports about a 9 or 10 inch LCD screen for the Sony Passport IFE system—which I find to be the superior IFE over the pond (8 or 9 movies, a couple of dozen short TV shows, and about a dozen musical album selections, all available on demand with individual ff, rewind, pause, and resume functions). Noise canceling headsets are provided (not Sony or Bose, but they seem to work just fine).
Push, taxi, and takeoff took a long while, after which the pilot announced a 6hr 38m flying time to LGW. After ten thousand was rung by the flight deck the cabin crew took another drink order and distributed menus, along with enabling the IFE. I kicked my seat back, took off my shoes and put on the provided socks in the amenity kit, and ordered dinner. The menu, for those of you who get excited about airline food (I don’t—even if I were brought stuff served by the better international airlines in longhaul F or J in a 4 or 5 star restaurant I’d be highly disappointed) was identical to the eastbound menu found in Das’ excellent Envoy trip report (http://www.flyertalk.com/milesfr.shtml) and thus I’m going to spare the time of transcription. I had the beef. The cutlery was plastic (presumably due to our destination’s arcane rules on the subject), the salad, cheese, and desert courses were served via cart. I skipped both the cheese course and dessert, as I was (and remain) highly disappointed that US has discontinued the Sundae even on international sectors. I left instructions with the crew to wake me for “breakfast” and dozed off while watching “The Bourne Identity” (which, if you have read Ludlum’s book, is a highly disappointing movie).
As luck would have it, I woke of my own accord roughly two hours from LGW, and roughly 30 minutes before the crew started the “breakfast” service. Needing a cup of coffee, I wandered back to the galley and chatted with a crew for a few minutes. They still seem to dislike the layout of the 330, and are not looking forward to minimum staffing on the forthcoming schedule (US is reducing cabin crews to the FAA minimum in an effort to help cut costs during bankruptcy). I seem to recall that the 330 used to cross the pond with about 15 FAs—I understand this number may be as low as 10 eventually. Wow.
Breakfast consisted of a small croissant, smaller fruit plate, OJ, and one’s choice of coffee, tea, cappuccino, or espresso. Much to my surprise, very few people in the forward Envoy cabin had opted for the breakfast (I myself require nourishment to function in the morning). I really found this odd because I knew from experience that the FAs kick the lights on an hour from departure anyway. Thanks be for eyeshades, I suppose. In lieu of the “leave me alone” signs for the seats, the US FAs will ask during the dinner/dessert service if you wished to be awakened, and note it on the serving manifest. After the “breakfast” service, immigration cards, Fast Track cards, and lounge invitations were handed out. The descent into LGW was bumpy, and the crew had to work to prep the cabin for arrival. We pulled to the gate about 10 minutes ahead of schedule, but it took some time to pull the jetway over and get things unbuttoned.
Following the mile long hike thru the bowels of LGW (the moving walkways reduce this to a mere .5 mile hike), I found myself facing a 10 person wait in the regular immigration queue, or a 2 person wait in the Fast Track queue. Foolishly, I took the latter and might have broken even from a wait perspective. That done, I made my way into the infamous “holding pen” at LGW. This is one of the more annoying things about Gatwick in my mind (for those of you who have not had the pleasure, you basically are forced to wait in a large and very often crowded area until your flight is displayed on a monitor directing you to the appropriate baggage claim). When the flight finally popped up, I made my way upstairs to the baggage belt in question. My priority tagged bags, of course, came off after roughly three-quarters of the plane’s load had retrieved their bags and were halfway to London. I find this to be a rather large annoyance—I’m assuming that a rather large widebody like an A330 does in fact have several different luggage bins if not palletized luggage facilities—thus making it a relatively painless process to segregate and properly handle priority luggage. I digress.
I made my way thru the (empty) nothing to declare customs line, and went downstairs to the US arrival lounge. This, IMHO, is one of the gems in the US system. Like many airlines who have a small presence in a particular international city, US typically contracts with either another airline or a local “generic” lounge for their arriving premium cabin passengers. At Gatwick, US built their own arrivals lounge. It’s downstairs from the arrivals hall, immediately adjacent to the CO arrivals lounge. There is a breakfast service (pastry, bread, yougurt, etc), wine/booze/soft drinks, etc in the lounge. There are 6 or 7 beautifully appointed shower/bathrooms one can freshen up in, and they will press your clothes while you shower (Bulgari bath products are provided). One of the nice things about flying US is that they provide arrival lounge service to anyone seated in a premium cabin, as opposed to say, UA, who to my knowledge only bequeaths such things to fare-paid premium cabin passengers. In any case, I managed to grab a shower room immediately, and grabbed a shave and a shower while my clothes were pressed. By the time I was finished with my shower, the lounge agent had already arranged my ticket on the Gatwick Express (shame on me for not requesting a return ticket J) and had provided a map of the London Underground “in case my recollection was a bit shoddy http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/wink.gif.” I then made my way down to the train platforms for the 35 minute trip into Victoria (on one of the older trainsets http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/frown.gif). I then jumped in a cab for the short ride to the Trafalgar Hilton, as I did not feel like schlepping my rather heavy roller onto the tube.
More to come, including thoughts on the Trafalgar Hilton, a small daytrip on BMI, and the return to the US on US.
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Saving the world, one clue at a time.
[This message has been edited by ClueByFour (edited 01-07-2003).]
PIT-PHL-LGW on US
Some time ago, I was informed that I’d be spending a bit of time in the UK for work. As it turned out, those plans changed somewhat in terms of the dates, but I decided to keep my scheduled trip to London and turn it into the first real vacation I’ve had in a few years. As such, I found myself parking the car in the long term lot at PIT, and making my way to the terminal on a snowy day.
US has really been cutting staffing levels to (or past) the bare minimum during their stint in Chapter 11, and the Envoy/International First check-in desks at PIT are no exception. I was the only person in the Envoy line; however, all agents in these positions had been drafted to help process the coach queue which I conservatively estimated at 200+ people deep—quite amazing when you consider that there are only two international departures per day (a 767-200 to LGW and a A330-300 to FRA). The first free agent summoned me over, and quickly checked my bag thru to LGW (complete with the Envoy and priority handling tags, thus insuring lousy service. More on this later).
I proceeded downstairs thru security and took the people movers to the landside terminal. Figuring myself to be on a roll, I headed to the US Club in the center core, and asked for drink coupons (which one gets in the non-PHL gateway city clubs). The agent responded by giving me a single drink coupon and carefully making note of my name, flight number, etc. When I asked for a second coupon (as my flight did not leave for well over an hour), I was rebuffed. I made my way to the bar and ordered an Amstel. While drinking the beer, I made several phone calls to friends and work (first vacation in a year!). Upon draining the beer, I sauntered down to the US Club in the B concourse, and extracted another drink coupon from the agent there (since the entire system is not computerized, I managed to bang US out of a whole $5US worth of Amstel. Woo-hoo). I find the business practice of denying premium transatlantic passengers adequate libation in the non-PHL gateway amazing when one considers that the alcohol at the Envoy lounge in PHL is completely self-service. More on that later. After finishing my second beer, I headed over to the C concourse to board my flight to PHL.
(apologies in advance—I don’t have my BPs handy so I’ll have to skip the flight numbers.)
I was not surprised, unlike some of the masses already waiting in the boarding area, to find a 767 assigned for a short PIT-PHL sector. I’m sure that US was simply repositioning the aircraft for an international departure ex-PHL, and this flight was simply another example of why one really should place one’s hubs more than 350 miles apart. Boarding by this point had slowed to the “jetway creep.” After a few more cellular calls, I finally made my way to 2C, threw my bag into the overhead, and handed my overcoat and blazer off the the flight attendant responsible for my side of the F cabin. I was somewhat disappointed (as was my seat opponent) to learn that the predeparture beverage service was “water or not.” This would not be necessary if US would board the 767 thru the 2L door instead of the 1L door, which leads to congestion and an unwillingness on the part of the flight attendants to attempt a real beverage service. This same phenomenon also occurs on the A-321 narrowbody which is also boarded thru 1L (leading the entire coach cabin to troop past 26 domestic F seats on that equipment down a single aisle). I’ve seen it done on the A-321 from time to time, but not on the day in question. Alas…..
Pushback, taxi, and takeoff were all relatively smooth, and the captain announced about 38 minutes in transit to PHL, plus “10 to 15 minutes for flow positioning.” For those of you who are familiar with PHL, this can be translated into “38 minutes in transit, plus a minimum of 15 minutes of holding.” The flight attendants began to take drink orders. I noticed that the FA on my side of the cabin was addressing folks by name from the manifest; when he reached me he said “Something to drink, sir?” Now, those of you who know me are aware that my surname is not necessarily very “phonetic” in its pronunciation, it is by no means impossible to hit on the first try (I’d say an average of 1 in 5 people actually get it). I was more disappointed that he did not even try, and said “Not even going to try the name?” The FA laughed, and pointed out that various people and cultures are more offended by the incorrect attempt than by none at all. Eventually, I ordered a screwdriver (Finlandia and OJ for those keeping score). Drinks were followed by the snack basket—I simply had a few packets of cashews, since I knew that I’d have a few hours to kill in PHL during which I could find some more substantial nourishment.
At roughly 38m 2s after wheels up, the crew readied the cabin for arrival, despite the fact that they (presumably) had heard the captain’s announcement, and had (presumably) worked flights into PHL before, and thus should have (presumably) known that we would not be at the gate for at least 20-25 minutes. When I’m wearing a large overcoat, I don’t really want to sit with it and a blazer in my lap for half an hour, but it was imperative that the FA return to his jumpseat to work the Jumble in the newspaper for the duration of the flight. This gave me plenty of time to consider how dreadful the seats and first/Envoy cabin of US’ 767-200s really is (my return flight would be on one, and I was not looking forward to it). For those of you who are keeping track, I did not check to see if the IFE was activated—I’m assuming the PTVs were off for the duration due to the short flight. Eventually we arrived in PHL, where we taxied to one of the infamous remote stands off the A concourse and waited for the people movers to haul us to (IIRC) A6.
Upon arrival in the actual terminal, I made my way downstairs into the Envoy lounge, where a kind agent informed me that my flight to LGW would depart on time, and they would call boarding at approximately 40 minutes prior to departure for those in the lounge. Fair enough. I’ve always been a bit uninspired by the US Envoy lounge in PHL, in the sense that while being a nice enough departure lounge, it is far too small to support the number of international departures that leave PHL every day. I expect this to become worse in the short term as US adds SNN and DUB to its PHL international lineup; however, things should improve once (and if!) the new international concourse in PHL opens, as I’m assuming the new US club scheduled for that concourse will be both modern and mammoth (much in the way of the RCC in SFO’s international terminal, for instance). I found a place to sit in one of the “back” rooms, and grabbed some food and yet another Amstel from the bar. The food offerings consisted of some light appetizers, and a cold cut plate with a variety of breads, as well as some standard snack offerings (much like they stole a snack basket out of a front cabin and simply deposited the contents in the Envoy lounge). The wine selections were uninspired (IIRC, the bubbly was Moet White Star). The next 90 minutes consisted of dabbling at the food, sending a couple of last minute e-mails (and wishing that US would join AA in talking with T-mobile or anyone else to provide Wi-Fi access in its lounges/clubs), and consuming 2 additional Amstels. The LGW flight was called, and I grabbed my stuff (plus a pilfered bottle of water) and headed to the gate.
The gate area in the existing international (A) concourse at PHL is always a madhouse, and the evening in question was no exception. It seems that US has flights departing for MAD, FCO, LGW, FRA, MAN, MUC, and CDG within about a 2 hour period. In addition, BA has a couple of flights that leave right before and right after this flight bank, in addition to AF to CDG and LH to FRA about an hour earlier. It was, shall we say, chaotic. Fortunately, the agents in the club timed their announcement almost perfectly, in the sense that First and Envoy passengers were being invited to board right as I made it to the gate (having run end-around the hoard of people who summarily ignored the “wait until your row number is called” type announcements). As I made my way onto the aircraft, the purser checked my BP, handed me off to one of the Envoy FAs, and declared “Welcome to Envoy.” As I reached my seat (3F—second row of the forward Envoy cabin, on the middle-right of the 2-2-2 config) the FA in question took my overcoat and blazer, and inquired as to my choice of predeparture beverage (limited to mimosa, champagne, or water—and the champagne is relatively inexpensive stuff due to the predeparture duty implications). I took a mimosa, and settled into my seat. A pillow, blanket, and amenity kit (current contents are no longer Crabtree and Evelyn, but included toothbrush/toothpaste, lip balm, lotion, tissues, eye shades, socks, and ear plugs. The newspaper cart came around, completely devoid of any newspapers published in North America. Normally, I actually prefer the writing style of some of the non-tabloid London papers, but I wanted to get the preview of the upcoming NFL games. I noted the presence of a screaming child in the rear Envoy cabin (had seen the parents during the pre-board) and contemplated how angry I’d be if I was in the rearward cabin at this time (this has been placed in the trip report specifically to raise the hackles of the snob patrol—I would not take a child into business class, but if someone has the means or the miles to do so I suppose they are entitled—YMMV, as always). The captain announced that we’d be late off the gate as some “last minute cargo” was being loaded but due to favorable tailwinds would arrive in London on schedule. As it turned out, the delay was a shade over an hour, during which time most of the rear Envoy cabin not related or associated with the aforementioned screaming child was ushered into the forward Envoy cabin. I managed to retain an empty seat next to me, and can only assume this was due to my Chairman’s Preferred status—I had noted the purser carefully checking the manifest during the reseating process. I peeked into the F cabin, and a quick glance at the manifest showed 4 nonrevs and 2 Silver DM members (my own crude stereotype-meter indicates an award booking). Note that as of next month, the sleeper seats in the A-330 F cabin will be sold as Envoy seats, and assigned to either full fare Envoy customers, Chairman’s Preferred DM members, or VIPs in general. The food service has been “aligned” with Envoy for some time now.
Let me comment a bit about the Envoy cabin on US’ A-330s. I’ve flown transatlantic biz with AA, CO, BA (before the flat beds in Club World), and US. From a seat perspective, I believe US has them all beat. Before BA upped the arms race with flat beds in C/J, the US seat was the best arrangement over the Atlantic. It is roughly the same as the Quantas dreamtime seat, with about 14 ways (including two or three lumbar chambers) of electrical adjustment, including an “express recline” and “express return-seat-to-landing-config” controls. It also sports a dual intensity reading lamp on a moveable arm, which is especially beneficial in that it keeps the cabin dark as folks can turn off the overhead reading lamp. It also sports about a 9 or 10 inch LCD screen for the Sony Passport IFE system—which I find to be the superior IFE over the pond (8 or 9 movies, a couple of dozen short TV shows, and about a dozen musical album selections, all available on demand with individual ff, rewind, pause, and resume functions). Noise canceling headsets are provided (not Sony or Bose, but they seem to work just fine).
Push, taxi, and takeoff took a long while, after which the pilot announced a 6hr 38m flying time to LGW. After ten thousand was rung by the flight deck the cabin crew took another drink order and distributed menus, along with enabling the IFE. I kicked my seat back, took off my shoes and put on the provided socks in the amenity kit, and ordered dinner. The menu, for those of you who get excited about airline food (I don’t—even if I were brought stuff served by the better international airlines in longhaul F or J in a 4 or 5 star restaurant I’d be highly disappointed) was identical to the eastbound menu found in Das’ excellent Envoy trip report (http://www.flyertalk.com/milesfr.shtml) and thus I’m going to spare the time of transcription. I had the beef. The cutlery was plastic (presumably due to our destination’s arcane rules on the subject), the salad, cheese, and desert courses were served via cart. I skipped both the cheese course and dessert, as I was (and remain) highly disappointed that US has discontinued the Sundae even on international sectors. I left instructions with the crew to wake me for “breakfast” and dozed off while watching “The Bourne Identity” (which, if you have read Ludlum’s book, is a highly disappointing movie).
As luck would have it, I woke of my own accord roughly two hours from LGW, and roughly 30 minutes before the crew started the “breakfast” service. Needing a cup of coffee, I wandered back to the galley and chatted with a crew for a few minutes. They still seem to dislike the layout of the 330, and are not looking forward to minimum staffing on the forthcoming schedule (US is reducing cabin crews to the FAA minimum in an effort to help cut costs during bankruptcy). I seem to recall that the 330 used to cross the pond with about 15 FAs—I understand this number may be as low as 10 eventually. Wow.
Breakfast consisted of a small croissant, smaller fruit plate, OJ, and one’s choice of coffee, tea, cappuccino, or espresso. Much to my surprise, very few people in the forward Envoy cabin had opted for the breakfast (I myself require nourishment to function in the morning). I really found this odd because I knew from experience that the FAs kick the lights on an hour from departure anyway. Thanks be for eyeshades, I suppose. In lieu of the “leave me alone” signs for the seats, the US FAs will ask during the dinner/dessert service if you wished to be awakened, and note it on the serving manifest. After the “breakfast” service, immigration cards, Fast Track cards, and lounge invitations were handed out. The descent into LGW was bumpy, and the crew had to work to prep the cabin for arrival. We pulled to the gate about 10 minutes ahead of schedule, but it took some time to pull the jetway over and get things unbuttoned.
Following the mile long hike thru the bowels of LGW (the moving walkways reduce this to a mere .5 mile hike), I found myself facing a 10 person wait in the regular immigration queue, or a 2 person wait in the Fast Track queue. Foolishly, I took the latter and might have broken even from a wait perspective. That done, I made my way into the infamous “holding pen” at LGW. This is one of the more annoying things about Gatwick in my mind (for those of you who have not had the pleasure, you basically are forced to wait in a large and very often crowded area until your flight is displayed on a monitor directing you to the appropriate baggage claim). When the flight finally popped up, I made my way upstairs to the baggage belt in question. My priority tagged bags, of course, came off after roughly three-quarters of the plane’s load had retrieved their bags and were halfway to London. I find this to be a rather large annoyance—I’m assuming that a rather large widebody like an A330 does in fact have several different luggage bins if not palletized luggage facilities—thus making it a relatively painless process to segregate and properly handle priority luggage. I digress.
I made my way thru the (empty) nothing to declare customs line, and went downstairs to the US arrival lounge. This, IMHO, is one of the gems in the US system. Like many airlines who have a small presence in a particular international city, US typically contracts with either another airline or a local “generic” lounge for their arriving premium cabin passengers. At Gatwick, US built their own arrivals lounge. It’s downstairs from the arrivals hall, immediately adjacent to the CO arrivals lounge. There is a breakfast service (pastry, bread, yougurt, etc), wine/booze/soft drinks, etc in the lounge. There are 6 or 7 beautifully appointed shower/bathrooms one can freshen up in, and they will press your clothes while you shower (Bulgari bath products are provided). One of the nice things about flying US is that they provide arrival lounge service to anyone seated in a premium cabin, as opposed to say, UA, who to my knowledge only bequeaths such things to fare-paid premium cabin passengers. In any case, I managed to grab a shower room immediately, and grabbed a shave and a shower while my clothes were pressed. By the time I was finished with my shower, the lounge agent had already arranged my ticket on the Gatwick Express (shame on me for not requesting a return ticket J) and had provided a map of the London Underground “in case my recollection was a bit shoddy http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/wink.gif.” I then made my way down to the train platforms for the 35 minute trip into Victoria (on one of the older trainsets http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/frown.gif). I then jumped in a cab for the short ride to the Trafalgar Hilton, as I did not feel like schlepping my rather heavy roller onto the tube.
More to come, including thoughts on the Trafalgar Hilton, a small daytrip on BMI, and the return to the US on US.
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Saving the world, one clue at a time.
[This message has been edited by ClueByFour (edited 01-07-2003).]