Back from Boston in BA Club (by my evil twin)
Apr 23, 2010, 8:12 am
#1
Original Poster
Join Date: May 2002
Location: London, UK
Programs: VS/BA/CX/EK
Posts: 885
Back from Boston in BA Club (by my evil twin)
BA0212, BOS-LHR, business class. And sorry about this: it was written by my evil twin who was tired, sleep-deprived, stressed-out and fed up.
So, my very first trip report about BA, with high hopes from seat 62K on the upper deck, particularly given the stellar service on the outbound flight which had frankly been close to my experience of first class on BA. Of course, some allowances should be made for this being a flight on the second day that aviation getting back to normality, the ash cloud putting paid to British aviation for the better part of a week.
Having had two rounds of rebooking we had managed to keep our coveted 62J/K seats. The virtue of 62K being the significant leg room extending beyond the 6 ft length afforded by the usual Club World seat. No back to the ottoman means that another 3 feet or so is at your disposal: enough for the lankiest of travellers even if the seat width is little to write home about. Your correspondent’s six foot one inch frame appreciated the leg room on the outbound even if the lack of seat width meant that crushed shoulders were the order of the day.
Boston Logan Terminal E isn’t exactly the most facility-laden of terminals. A long departure hall landside has little to recommend it, particularly with the BA desks opening a full 15 minutes after their promised time. As the queues for all classes were starting to snake around the concourse this was hardly welcome, so cue the ironic applause when a couple of check in staff finally deigned to appear. A pastel coloured tour group of a certain age was in front of us, so the formalities proceeded slowly. And what is it about the curious predilection of these people for starting conversations in queues? I was idly planning the untimely demise of the person who thought piped music at Logan was a great idea (“hey welcome to Airways, your Boston Airport radio station”) when we were accosted by one of the couples. Happily the queue moved forward before I heard too many of my brain cells disappearing with little popping sounds, and we were pleased to find that 62J/K were still ours.
Security was easy for this seasoned traveller: too many times spent queuing at Dulles meant that the few minutes waiting at Logan was a wonderful surprise. Of course, laptop out and shoes off meant the scrum was not much fun, but ten minutes through any US security checkpoint is a cause for celebration, not complaint.
Airside Logan is not much better than landside: another cavernous hall, with seating helpfully packed out due to scheduling four widebody planes at more or less the same time. We made our way past gate 8 to the airline lounges elevator, one level down to the corridor of lounges. One thing I’ve generally found is that US airports are rarely short of space, so finding a dark set of lounges (Virgin, Swiss/Lufthansa and BA) with no natural light was a surprise. The BA lounge is decent enough given the space constraints, but even with people starting to avail themselves of pre-dining (strangely available even on our flight which was not a sleeper service) the area was soon bursting at the seams.
Having eaten lunch around 1pm, pre-dining at 5pm seemed a little too soon, so after seeing the lounge fill up to standing-room only levels we decided to bolt for the departures level where Alitalia and Air France widebodies were just departing. Without any formal announcement or indication of priority boarding our flight also seemed to funnel its way to gate 7A and down the jetway, and within minutes we were in our allotted seats.
The metal had changed to BA’s high J configuration which meant plenty of Club World space and no sign of the Word-Traveller-Plus-behind-First-Class-so-they-can-steal-from-the-Club-kitchen shenanigans. A slight delay was evidenced as our departure time of 1800 passed, the captain and first officer explaining that the cancellation of the later flight meant that we were packing the 212 to the rafters in order to get people home. The idea of a ‘mercy flight’ repatriating stranded travellers played well until you heard the accents of the people on-board... more than half the people on the top deck were certainly not returning British. Still, what else could go wrong? A pleasant meal (the curry outbound was great), a few drinks (the lack of choice on the outbound rather less great) and a flat bed with unlimited legroom to get some much needed ZZZs until a bacon roll for breakfast.
We took off to the South, the promised view of downtown Boston vanishing in a haze of low cloud. As we levelled out a robust couple who had been seated in the jump seats to the rear of the upper deck made their way forward. Suddenly my unlimited leg room disappeared in a puff of capacity management: the jump seats behind 62K were now full for the duration and my additional leg room was no more. In fact, my privacy and easy seat egress were no more too.
Now, I don’t blame BA for trying to stuff this plane with passengers. And I do think that allowances have to be made for volcanoes, but in fact the issue was a technical one – the cancellation of the later flight. All of a sudden my coveted 62K had turned into a seat without privacy and where a tall person couldn’t sleep without kicking another hapless traveller in the shins. I elected to try and garner some sympathy from the cabin crew but the message was: “that’s just the way it is... sir”. Oh well: no flat bed for me. I don’t blame the jump-seated passengers: had I been stranded in Boston and seen my flight disappear (which had happened to me twice over the previous weekend) I would have been desperate to get out. But don't call it a Club World seat if I cannot recline it into a proper flat bed.
Anyway, perhaps the meal would take my mind off things. I present my recollection of the menu I selected below. It may not be completely accurate in all respects, but I think it is a reasonable depiction of the meal.
Starter
Unpleasant salad of two miserable asparagus spears covered by damp rocket and sitting on a bed of flaccid peppers with a couple of sneezes of gorgonzola as garnish.
Main
Nicely roasted halibut ruined by a sweet marmalade and medicinal tasting basil stuffing, with rock hard potatoes, watery tomato skins and slimy fennel.
Dessert
Brown butter apple tart presented with the starter in order to become nicely congealed by the end of the meal, so much so that no one in the cabin was brave enough to attempt it.
Drinks
Gordon’s gin (no sign of the Tanqueray on the way out) presented in a miserly fashion, one bottle at a time, or a Bloody Mary made with tomato juice, vodka and a fleeting acquaintance with Worcester sauce (no Tabasco).
White wine: a really nasty Pinot Grigio scraped from the bin ends of northern Italy and otherwise destined for vinegar production, or a marginally better Chardonnay which clearly had a productive future career as battery acid.
Red wine: a passable Medoc (i.e. passable at 2 euro a bottle in the Calais branch of Tesco) and a terrible Zinfandel clearly on the list to appease those who can neither understand nor appreciate red wine.
Actually I’m being unfair. BA had helpfully quoted four each of the red and white wines on the menu in order to whet our appetites before cruelly dashing our hopes. Suffice to say that not loading either of the two promising sauvignon blancs gave me little hope that the BA catering department might be run by someone with an appreciation of wine rather than cost.
So, primed with an unpleasant Bloody Mary and a succession of gin and tonics, all the while staring the jumpseats in the face, the meal passed. I ate two pipecleaner-thin asparagus spears, a tiny amount of fish (the part unsullied by the horrendous stuffing) and some cheese, the latter being requested and delivered with ill grace. Truly one of the worst business class meals I have ever had on a plane, and I’ve travelled on Virgin Atlantic – to call it crappy was to malign faeces. The only saving grace was the cheese, but then again how many extra pennies (estimate: 2p) would it take to supply some water biscuits as well as the rather dense oat biscuits that clog your throat and spoil the flavour?
As the enforced night fell, the cabin lights dimming, another issue became clear as I attempted to extricate myself in the direction of the bathroom: there are no lights next to the jump seats. As I picked myself up from the aisle carpet I reflected that trying to establish some night vision before attempting to step over Mr & Mrs Jump Seat was probably a wise move. Needless to say the solicitous nature of the cabin crew was conspicuous by its absence.
And so the night passed: me typing this trip report and Mr Jump Seat attempting to get some no doubt hard earned sleep in an awkward legs-extended position that might have been helpful had I not tripped over his legs with depressing regularity. According to the upper deck cabin crew: “that’s just the way it is... sir”.
I haven’t the time to ruminate too much further on the usual deficiencies of Next Generation Club World: the tray table is so insecure it becomes a bouncy castle for your laptop unless you brace it with a well-positioned knee, the armrests flap about unless you recline fully, the light would make a half dead glow-worm seem dazzling in comparison and the seat configuration delivers awkward leaps across reclined feet and the juddering sensation of your immediate neighbour getting up to visit the lav. So the night passed without further incident until a breakfast of fruit and bacon roll appeared in front of a very weary and sleep-deprived traveller.
At least BA was being consistent: cheap fruit presented in plastic container was followed by a bacon roll which had been left in the oven far too long. Clattering my teeth against it had more chance of damaging my fillings than making a dent in the bread, so I had to resort to using a knife and spoon as a hammer and cold chisel. In the end I just ate the bacon.
Landing at Heathrow and awaiting our luggage (priority handling? right...) I ruminated upon the difference between in-bound and out-bound flights. Yes, I’ll make allowances for volcanoes and technical issues. And yes, I don’t expect first class service at a business class price. And yes, my standards have been set too high by Cathay, Thai and Singapore Airlines. But this flight was bad, really bad. Certainly bad enough to make me question whether to change my allegiance back to Virgin for US flights. On the plus side it really did make me appreciate the different between CW and F – on this showing there really is no comparison and I wish, oh how I wish, we’d stumped up the difference to travel in the pointy end.
BC
So, my very first trip report about BA, with high hopes from seat 62K on the upper deck, particularly given the stellar service on the outbound flight which had frankly been close to my experience of first class on BA. Of course, some allowances should be made for this being a flight on the second day that aviation getting back to normality, the ash cloud putting paid to British aviation for the better part of a week.
Having had two rounds of rebooking we had managed to keep our coveted 62J/K seats. The virtue of 62K being the significant leg room extending beyond the 6 ft length afforded by the usual Club World seat. No back to the ottoman means that another 3 feet or so is at your disposal: enough for the lankiest of travellers even if the seat width is little to write home about. Your correspondent’s six foot one inch frame appreciated the leg room on the outbound even if the lack of seat width meant that crushed shoulders were the order of the day.
Boston Logan Terminal E isn’t exactly the most facility-laden of terminals. A long departure hall landside has little to recommend it, particularly with the BA desks opening a full 15 minutes after their promised time. As the queues for all classes were starting to snake around the concourse this was hardly welcome, so cue the ironic applause when a couple of check in staff finally deigned to appear. A pastel coloured tour group of a certain age was in front of us, so the formalities proceeded slowly. And what is it about the curious predilection of these people for starting conversations in queues? I was idly planning the untimely demise of the person who thought piped music at Logan was a great idea (“hey welcome to Airways, your Boston Airport radio station”) when we were accosted by one of the couples. Happily the queue moved forward before I heard too many of my brain cells disappearing with little popping sounds, and we were pleased to find that 62J/K were still ours.
Security was easy for this seasoned traveller: too many times spent queuing at Dulles meant that the few minutes waiting at Logan was a wonderful surprise. Of course, laptop out and shoes off meant the scrum was not much fun, but ten minutes through any US security checkpoint is a cause for celebration, not complaint.
Airside Logan is not much better than landside: another cavernous hall, with seating helpfully packed out due to scheduling four widebody planes at more or less the same time. We made our way past gate 8 to the airline lounges elevator, one level down to the corridor of lounges. One thing I’ve generally found is that US airports are rarely short of space, so finding a dark set of lounges (Virgin, Swiss/Lufthansa and BA) with no natural light was a surprise. The BA lounge is decent enough given the space constraints, but even with people starting to avail themselves of pre-dining (strangely available even on our flight which was not a sleeper service) the area was soon bursting at the seams.
Having eaten lunch around 1pm, pre-dining at 5pm seemed a little too soon, so after seeing the lounge fill up to standing-room only levels we decided to bolt for the departures level where Alitalia and Air France widebodies were just departing. Without any formal announcement or indication of priority boarding our flight also seemed to funnel its way to gate 7A and down the jetway, and within minutes we were in our allotted seats.
The metal had changed to BA’s high J configuration which meant plenty of Club World space and no sign of the Word-Traveller-Plus-behind-First-Class-so-they-can-steal-from-the-Club-kitchen shenanigans. A slight delay was evidenced as our departure time of 1800 passed, the captain and first officer explaining that the cancellation of the later flight meant that we were packing the 212 to the rafters in order to get people home. The idea of a ‘mercy flight’ repatriating stranded travellers played well until you heard the accents of the people on-board... more than half the people on the top deck were certainly not returning British. Still, what else could go wrong? A pleasant meal (the curry outbound was great), a few drinks (the lack of choice on the outbound rather less great) and a flat bed with unlimited legroom to get some much needed ZZZs until a bacon roll for breakfast.
We took off to the South, the promised view of downtown Boston vanishing in a haze of low cloud. As we levelled out a robust couple who had been seated in the jump seats to the rear of the upper deck made their way forward. Suddenly my unlimited leg room disappeared in a puff of capacity management: the jump seats behind 62K were now full for the duration and my additional leg room was no more. In fact, my privacy and easy seat egress were no more too.
Now, I don’t blame BA for trying to stuff this plane with passengers. And I do think that allowances have to be made for volcanoes, but in fact the issue was a technical one – the cancellation of the later flight. All of a sudden my coveted 62K had turned into a seat without privacy and where a tall person couldn’t sleep without kicking another hapless traveller in the shins. I elected to try and garner some sympathy from the cabin crew but the message was: “that’s just the way it is... sir”. Oh well: no flat bed for me. I don’t blame the jump-seated passengers: had I been stranded in Boston and seen my flight disappear (which had happened to me twice over the previous weekend) I would have been desperate to get out. But don't call it a Club World seat if I cannot recline it into a proper flat bed.
Anyway, perhaps the meal would take my mind off things. I present my recollection of the menu I selected below. It may not be completely accurate in all respects, but I think it is a reasonable depiction of the meal.
Starter
Unpleasant salad of two miserable asparagus spears covered by damp rocket and sitting on a bed of flaccid peppers with a couple of sneezes of gorgonzola as garnish.
Main
Nicely roasted halibut ruined by a sweet marmalade and medicinal tasting basil stuffing, with rock hard potatoes, watery tomato skins and slimy fennel.
Dessert
Brown butter apple tart presented with the starter in order to become nicely congealed by the end of the meal, so much so that no one in the cabin was brave enough to attempt it.
Drinks
Gordon’s gin (no sign of the Tanqueray on the way out) presented in a miserly fashion, one bottle at a time, or a Bloody Mary made with tomato juice, vodka and a fleeting acquaintance with Worcester sauce (no Tabasco).
White wine: a really nasty Pinot Grigio scraped from the bin ends of northern Italy and otherwise destined for vinegar production, or a marginally better Chardonnay which clearly had a productive future career as battery acid.
Red wine: a passable Medoc (i.e. passable at 2 euro a bottle in the Calais branch of Tesco) and a terrible Zinfandel clearly on the list to appease those who can neither understand nor appreciate red wine.
Actually I’m being unfair. BA had helpfully quoted four each of the red and white wines on the menu in order to whet our appetites before cruelly dashing our hopes. Suffice to say that not loading either of the two promising sauvignon blancs gave me little hope that the BA catering department might be run by someone with an appreciation of wine rather than cost.
So, primed with an unpleasant Bloody Mary and a succession of gin and tonics, all the while staring the jumpseats in the face, the meal passed. I ate two pipecleaner-thin asparagus spears, a tiny amount of fish (the part unsullied by the horrendous stuffing) and some cheese, the latter being requested and delivered with ill grace. Truly one of the worst business class meals I have ever had on a plane, and I’ve travelled on Virgin Atlantic – to call it crappy was to malign faeces. The only saving grace was the cheese, but then again how many extra pennies (estimate: 2p) would it take to supply some water biscuits as well as the rather dense oat biscuits that clog your throat and spoil the flavour?
As the enforced night fell, the cabin lights dimming, another issue became clear as I attempted to extricate myself in the direction of the bathroom: there are no lights next to the jump seats. As I picked myself up from the aisle carpet I reflected that trying to establish some night vision before attempting to step over Mr & Mrs Jump Seat was probably a wise move. Needless to say the solicitous nature of the cabin crew was conspicuous by its absence.
And so the night passed: me typing this trip report and Mr Jump Seat attempting to get some no doubt hard earned sleep in an awkward legs-extended position that might have been helpful had I not tripped over his legs with depressing regularity. According to the upper deck cabin crew: “that’s just the way it is... sir”.
I haven’t the time to ruminate too much further on the usual deficiencies of Next Generation Club World: the tray table is so insecure it becomes a bouncy castle for your laptop unless you brace it with a well-positioned knee, the armrests flap about unless you recline fully, the light would make a half dead glow-worm seem dazzling in comparison and the seat configuration delivers awkward leaps across reclined feet and the juddering sensation of your immediate neighbour getting up to visit the lav. So the night passed without further incident until a breakfast of fruit and bacon roll appeared in front of a very weary and sleep-deprived traveller.
At least BA was being consistent: cheap fruit presented in plastic container was followed by a bacon roll which had been left in the oven far too long. Clattering my teeth against it had more chance of damaging my fillings than making a dent in the bread, so I had to resort to using a knife and spoon as a hammer and cold chisel. In the end I just ate the bacon.
Landing at Heathrow and awaiting our luggage (priority handling? right...) I ruminated upon the difference between in-bound and out-bound flights. Yes, I’ll make allowances for volcanoes and technical issues. And yes, I don’t expect first class service at a business class price. And yes, my standards have been set too high by Cathay, Thai and Singapore Airlines. But this flight was bad, really bad. Certainly bad enough to make me question whether to change my allegiance back to Virgin for US flights. On the plus side it really did make me appreciate the different between CW and F – on this showing there really is no comparison and I wish, oh how I wish, we’d stumped up the difference to travel in the pointy end.
BC
Apr 23, 2010, 10:44 am
#4
Join Date: May 2009
Location: London
Programs: BA
Posts: 1,410
Thanks - I really enjoyed the comic remarks 
Sounds like you had an unfortunate experience with the passenger in your personal space. Were you literally face-to-face the entire journey ? What catering did they receive ?
I know that feeling very well - it never moves quickly, although they have opened a fast track now.
The old BA lounges at PHL were horrid underground effort with no windows at all.
Sounds like you had an unfortunate experience with the passenger in your personal space. Were you literally face-to-face the entire journey ? What catering did they receive ?
too many times spent queuing at Dulles
One thing I’ve generally found is that US airports are rarely short of space, so finding a dark set of lounges (Virgin, Swiss/Lufthansa and BA) with no natural light was a surprise.
Apr 23, 2010, 1:19 pm
#5
Join Date: Jul 2008
Location: Kent, UK
Programs: BA Gold, SPG Platinum, Marriott Platinum, Hilton Diamond
Posts: 3,809
I'm confused, what do you mean when you say that you could not turn your seat into a fully flat bed? Were people in the crew seats? If so, why would this stop you reclining your seat? Were they there for takeoff? Probably crew returning home?
Apr 23, 2010, 1:25 pm
#6
Original Poster
Join Date: May 2002
Location: London, UK
Programs: VS/BA/CX/EK
Posts: 885
Thanks for the comments. Just to clarify, there were two normal pax (at least they certainly did not look like crew) in the jump seats behind row 62 who took these seats immediately after take off. The gentleman was approximately my height and with my seat fully reclined there was no way I could lie down without kicking him in the shins (my feet overhang the ottoman by some distance). Also, there was a large amount of hand luggage against and around my ottoman which didn't help matters. Not ideal for him, certainly not ideal for me.
BC
BC
Apr 24, 2010, 8:02 am
#7
Join Date: Mar 2010
Location: London
Programs: BAEC, AA, Emirates, Hilton, Hyatt, Taj Hotels
Posts: 2,345
A classic case of 'when they're bad, BA can be really bad'. Good for you in trying to give them credit in what were trying times, but on days like this you have have to wonder why you spend money with them. Unfortunately, in/out of BOS the competition isn't much to write home about either.
Is it me, or has the service noticeably fallen off since the purser came off the UD? I've thought this a couple of times now.
Remember BA, the upper deck is where the Frequent Flyers are most likely to be sitting. These are the passengers who are helping in keeping you afloat. So let's reward them by taking a purser off the upper deck (and in case BA doesn't know this, a good, experienced crew member in a relatively small cabin can make a big difference). Makes you wonder what makes them tick really.
To the OP - you must be a writer or journalist. Your post was masterly.
Is it me, or has the service noticeably fallen off since the purser came off the UD? I've thought this a couple of times now.
Remember BA, the upper deck is where the Frequent Flyers are most likely to be sitting. These are the passengers who are helping in keeping you afloat. So let's reward them by taking a purser off the upper deck (and in case BA doesn't know this, a good, experienced crew member in a relatively small cabin can make a big difference). Makes you wonder what makes them tick really.
To the OP - you must be a writer or journalist. Your post was masterly.
Apr 24, 2010, 9:26 am
#8
Original Poster
Join Date: May 2002
Location: London, UK
Programs: VS/BA/CX/EK
Posts: 885
A classic case of 'when they're bad, BA can be really bad'. Good for you in trying to give them credit in what were trying times, but on days like this you have have to wonder why you spend money with them. Unfortunately, in/out of BOS the competition isn't much to write home about either.
One day I'll take it up properly again.Regards,
BC
Apr 24, 2010, 9:44 am
#9
Join Date: Jan 2008
Programs: US Dividend Miles
Posts: 333
Apr 24, 2010, 12:31 pm
#10
Join Date: Mar 2007
Programs: BAEC Gold, M&M Sen, Delta Skymiles Gold
Posts: 866
Food and wine in BA CW is really pathetic! Tha food on Cathay is actually better in economy than BA in club.
Why is it so hard for BA to serve decent food to it's business pax? Not to mention the presentation...
Why is it so hard for BA to serve decent food to it's business pax? Not to mention the presentation...
Apr 25, 2010, 3:35 am
#11
Original Poster
Join Date: May 2002
Location: London, UK
Programs: VS/BA/CX/EK
Posts: 885
BC