Gardyloo

Last month we started a four-continent RTW in Turkey, the first two legs of which were IST-LHR, then a 6 hour pause for massages, showers, and strong drink at the BA lounges, then LHR-YVR. Here is the prior trip report.

The RTW tickets allow 6 flights in N. America, only one of which can be a transcontinental nonstop or transcon single-plane service. Because we needed to be in New York last weekend, we opted to use our transcon allotment on CX on their YVR-JFK flight, the J service on which is allegedly pretty nice.

The plan had been to drive from home in Seattle the morning of the flight (1:20 pm departure); usually we can make it to the Vancouver airport in 3 ˝ hours, so not a heavy burden. But as fate would have it a week or two before fly day herself got booked into a don't-miss 7:30 am meeting that morning, so scratch the drive, hello Horizon Airlines.

AS 2160, SEA-YVR, 10:30 - 11:20, DH8, 7A/B (very Y): When I got up at oh-dark-thirty to finish packing (I was driving her to her meeting, then someone was going to take her to the airport afterward, while I was dealing with car yoga etc.) I turned on the TV and was informed that sometime in the wee hours Alaska Airlines had canned all their bag handlers and ramp people at SEA and that chaos was anticipated. Oh goody. We were only carrying-on, so I wasn't too worried about bags, but the thought of SEA delays getting us to YVR so late as to miss the connection, or, worse, not have any time at the new CX lounge there - well, that was cause for serious concern. But of course as any attempt at telephonic contact with AS was a hoo-hah, we just soldiered on with the plan.

And so, naturally, it was a total non-event. The counter people at AS were in shock, but the planes were flying on time and evidently the Horizon ramp people (QX is AS' regional subsidiary) are in a different contract group than the mainline folk that were waking up to face the rest of their lives, so no glitches to be found. Herself showed up, we waltzed through the überfluger security line, had time for a Last Latte before Canada at the new and quite flash SEA departure-area food/shopping court, boarding called on time, drop carry-ons at the "A la Cart" planeside gurney where cabin bags that won't fit in the cabin (pretty much everything bigger than a loaf of bread) are hand loaded and unloaded at the destination, buttoned up, pushed back, props do their cat-massacre-with-deep-bass-wah-wah sound thing, off we go. Bit hazy but I could still make out various WMD delivery systems moored at various naval installations in Puget Sound, former tulip fields in the Skagit Valley now bare and beige instead of last month's hot pink and yellow, landing to the west at YVR, bags brought to gurney, then a long march through the International Terminal to get to passport central. We are international transit pax of course (how weird to be international transits on flights from SEA to JFK, but there you are) so assume we'll bypass the lineups for immigration and customs. Uh - well - sort of.

We arrive at passport control and behold something like 800 people, mostly speaking Chinese or Texas, lined up like they're waiting for the Matterhorn at Disneyland on a summer Saturday. They are literally trickling through the 6 or 7 immigration kiosks instructing them in English or French that this is the line for visitors to Canada or returning nationals. I look for anything like a transit path, or counter, or sign, and finally behold that the last kiosk says "international transit" on it and off we go. Well, that queue is shorter by a lot, but it too is trickling ever so slowly, because numerous people have lined up there unable to read the sign, so they're being processed just like they are (or aren't as the case may be) at the other kiosks. Only because this is supposed to be the "no-brainer" line (check passport, check onward ticket, hello goodbye) they've put a trainee officer in the booth who is being instructed in how to use a QWERTY keyboard and a rubber stamp apparently for the first time. And of course the line is full of English- (or French-) challenged folk, backpackers who thought Alaska was in Canada, etc. And (kindly) rather than send them to the end of the Line from Hell, the nice green guy processes them ever-so-slowly. Such is life, and we eventually make it through, ride a series of lifts and escalators and moving walkways, and emerge into the bounty of YVR's duty-free zone, which is quite prodigious by North American standards. Make our way down various halls past perfume-dispensing Asian ladies, and enter the utter serenity of an empty CX lounge.

Four customers counting us, nobody in the FC lounge (looks nice but not very special.) Couple of plasma TVs showing weather and stock market info, a bunch of Canadian and HK/Chinese papers, liquor/beer/coffee/drinks counter with decent-looking selection, some sandwiches, salads and snacks, a bamboo basket of steaming dim sum bits, all very nice but nothing too exciting. The room is sort of beige-green in tone, with the long unadorned table-with-cubic-stools fixture that I gather is stock in the newer CX lounges; three or four computers in private cubicles, bunch of lounge chairs, very nice in a pretty sleek but sterile way; spotless of course. The very nice counterperson issues our BPs. We content ourselves with big bottles of Pellegrino and some shrimp balls and then before long the attendant calls our flight and we trek across the terminal to the gate, where we arrive after maybe 2/3 of the pax are already on board.

CX 888, YVR-JFK, 13:20 - 21:20, A340-600, 15J/K (J): Good lord what a huge airplane. I remember my first ride on a "stretch" DC-8-62 back in the Days of Douglas; this airplane appears to have the same proportions, only it's a widebody. I mean I know it's not as big as a 747 and all that, but the length is astonishing when you see it parked next to a 767 or 777 (which it was).

Anyway, we turn left at the door (always a nice experience) and are seated by Jason in our quite comfy seats. Coats taken, drinks offered, menus distributed. I am gawking to the point of elbow-in-ribs by herself at the frankly beautiful female FAs - I know I shouldn't mention it, but it's just too obvious not to comment. I don't know anything about CX's corporate culture, but I was just a tad disoriented by what must be evidence of selective screening in hiring, something (fortunately IMO) we've not seen for years in N. America or Europe to this degree. Anyway, enough said except to note that their behavior was totally professional, and their personalities, at least those in our cabin, pretty funny and edgy. The whole cabin staff were pretty cool as well as being coolly pretty.

The J cabin was ľ full, I think there were 2 people in FC; the back of the 'bus was jammed.

Pushback and takeoff on time (really long roll - I've heard the -600s are underpowered and it felt that way a little), hot towels handed out, orders taken, warm almonds provided (no soy nuts here - see below), drinks brought. I had heard about the "Cathay Delight" non-alcoholic drink and ordered one. Okay, tending to weird, wife agreed.

The CX on-demand entertainment system was activated just as the meal service began. It took a little getting used to but nothing I couldn't overcome. I chose to watch "Ocean's 12" which I had missed in the theatres; I felt like "Hotel Rwanda" was a little intense to watch during lunch, so saved that till later. Good noise-canceling headphones, BA take note.

So here's the menu:


The wine list looked pretty good - Deutz Champagne, Jaboulet-Verchere Pouilly-Fuisse, Riva Ranch Chardonnay, Rodney Strong Alexander Valley Cabernet, Mercury Domaine Louis Max (a Pinot Noir), Dow's Late Bottled Vintage Port. I had started out with a good G&T so kept to the grain rather than the grape for the duration. She kept the Perrier people in business.

There was also a selection of premium booze - Johnny Walker Gold, etc. I didn't ask about single malts but they probably had one or two.

The meal service was served off the cart with all entrees visible, a nice touch. I had the lamb; she had the shrimp salad. It was all good, not great, but served in decent portions and presented nicely. The port with the cheese was grand; it begged for a cigar but of course that would be wrong.

Now about the seats. I don't know. Nicely wide, gobs of legroom. It was a day flight, so I didn't feel the need to try to sleep; however my seat was very crotchety - lumbar buttons inop, full recline was achieved only after you set it in landing/takeoff position first, leg rest fully stowed, then pushed the recline buttons with a vengeance, which generated some gear-skipping thunks before it grudgingly went into its recline mode. At full recline it was still at a high enough angle that I would not have had a comfortable sleep - if I could sleep on planes at all - which I can't. But otherwise, a nice chair.

My basis of recent comparison is an un-updated New Club World J seat on our BA flight last month. Different concept, of course, but frankly I think I prefer the BA seat, with its swing-out video monitor, numerous cubbies to hide things, like that. I wish the BA seat were wider, and I'm not crazy about the fore-and-aft-facing business, but the CX seat, while great, seemed less ergonomic than the BA one. But of course, anyone who complains about any J seat on a first-tier airline needs his/her head examined when considering the other choices…

I got halfway through Hotel Rwanda (great, scary) when they handed out hard-frozen Haagen-Dazs ice cream bars and we started our descent into Queens. Landing and taxi were bang-bang; despite arriving 10 min. early we didn't have to hold in the pattern or on the ground, great.

We were among the first off the plane, and with US passports and only carryon bags, we were through immigration and customs in what was maybe 120 seconds, easily the fastest ever passage through JFK or any US port of entry we've ever had. Amazing. Out and into a cab, play dodge-ball on the Van Wyck, hello Courtyard on Third, good night America.

New York interlude: The purpose of this cross-continent weekend was an engagement party held by our future daughter-in-law's parents at their house in Brooklyn. That was scheduled for Saturday afternoon, so we had a morning at leisure in the city, and used it by visiting the recently made-over MOMA. Neither of us had visited MOMA in years, so although it's obviously larger and remodeled extensively (and very nicely, too) I couldn't recall exactly what had changed and what was the same. Never mind, the exhibits and spaces are wonderful and it's fun to see if you have any of the everyday objects on display in your personal collection of materiel at home (yes, a teapot.) The two special exhibits (one since closed) that we enjoyed the most were one covering modern urban landscape makeovers, like central Manchester, or the new Seattle waterfront sculpture garden, etc.; and especially the other, an exhibit of Thomas Demand's work. He's a German sculptor/photographer who creates these creepily realistic, full-size, everyday scenes (office copy room, bedrooms, etc.) out of paper and cardboard, then photographs them, then destroys them. (Look here: http://www.moma.org/exhibitions/2005/demand.html.) Very cool, worth the admission.

Then it was time to get to the party. Dressed, got a taxi, told the driver where in Brooklyn (he made a face - not much chance of an immediate return fare) but off we went. Well, short version of long story, the cab ride took an hour instead of 20 min. - closed streets in lower Manhattan for street work or street fairs, the Brooklyn Bridge and Williamsburg Bridge both parking lots, road work on the FDR, etc etc. - bottom line, we arrive 45 minutes late, she and I both leap from the cab, I pay with decent tip, wish the driver and his Egyptian family all the best, and off he goes, with my camera and our gifts to the parents still comfortably sitting on the back seat of his cab. Did I get the cab number? Uh - er - um. Panicky phone call to the Taxi and Limousine Commission, I get a 15-digit claim number, I think I remember the driver's name (there are 13,000 cab drivers in NYC, half of whom have "Ahmed" as one of their names). I am told to call the police precinct (which one? - all of them) as cab drivers are supposed to drop found objects at the nearest police precinct station to where they're found (Brooklyn? Midtown? South Bronx?) But in my heart I know it's a goner, so the party, while great fun and well lubricated with champagne (but no hot towels or Cathay Delights) is graced by my persona of Joe Thundercloud, the Stoopid Rube who doesn't know enough to take his flash digital camera out of taxis in Brooklyn. Oy.

Party over, we have dinner at a local restaurant in Brooklyn with some of (our) old friends, one of whom is a police captain who can't offer much hope for the late fotoaparat, good food, good people, the sting diminishes. I really like Brooklyn, or at least the parts we get to.

Next day it's breakfast with son (future D-I-L is doing cleanup duty) at Sarge's Deli on 3rd Avenue - probably our favorite cholesterol outlet in the city, a walk back to the hotel via Lexington, past the Chrysler Bldg and Grand Hyatt (scene of several overpriced nights), the Waldorf and other landmark-ish places, fetch bags from the hotel, and back to JFK.

Last month on our outbound voyage to Turkey we had spent a day in NYC before we got on the Queen Mary 2. On the flight to JFK my spouse had left her glasses in the seat pocket, so she wanted to see if by any chance the AA lost and found office had them. So I went through security while she schlepped to the other terminal (we were in T9, lost and found is in T8). Of course they weren't there, but she returned philosophical, as she was in line behind some art collector who had lost three ultra-valuable etchings in a tube that had been placed by the FA in another bin on his flight from CDG and when he went to fetch them on arrival, guess what. He was in tears, so our specs (and camera) were put into the small potatoes category where they belonged.

AA 475 JFK-DFW, 15:59 - 18:44, 757, 4E/F (F): It's a domestic flight so no lounge access of course; the terminal was full, the monitors behind the empty AA gate kiosks kept advertising More Room Throughout Coach, har-dee-har-har, the gate person on arrival makes a point of advising people that this is a buy on board food flight, so if you want something besides one of the packages of joy, you might consider buying it here. She actually recommends French fries from the adjacent TGI Friday's. Now there's a thought - please place your chips and ketchup under the seat in front of you for takeoff. Umm.

Boarding more or less on time, the front cabin FA does her best to take drink orders while the coach pax jostle down the aisle. Wife (forgetting where she is): "Can you take my coat?" FA: "It goes in the overhead bin." Oh, right. AA domestic First Class.

We don't have to wait long or taxi very far, so everything goes off pretty much on time.

The in-flight service begins with beverage service and AAhNutz® - spouse and I compare ramekins and her soy count is 60% while mine is only 30% (it will be the opposite on the DFW-SEA flight) then dinner is served. Salmon in a hoisin sauce with fried noodle object for me, despite my warnings she orders the cheese pizza. The fish is okay, the noodle thing incomprehensible - gooey, weird. Her pizza is downright disgusting-looking; she takes a bite and moves onto the lemon cookies. The FA comes and collects it and makes some funny comment that I can't hear - she was pretty cool and in fact all the FAs on both AA legs were quite professional and reasonably service-oriented folks. No complaints.

The movie is the Dennis-Quaid-gets-a-pischer-boss-who-dates-his-daughter one, seen it, so I continue my immersion (in preparation for the next portion of the RTW) in Bill Bryson's Down Under, his hilarious Australian travelogue, and presently we're approaching DFW.

My comment on AA's F seating on 757s once more is that it's shabby, inadequately spaced, and boring. My earphone jack needed constant fiddling in order to get stereo, there's a persistent high whine in the audio tracks, windows and carpet could use a session or two with Mr. Clean, and in general just tired looking and shopworn. Look, I know it's not fair to compare it with the CX J experience, but c'mon, AA, why not try to play with the big boys, especially when you're the biggest of the boys? 'Nuff said.

DFW is its usual charming self; at least we get parked right away, don't have to ride the TrAAin to get to the connecting gate, and I get to watch part of the basketball game on the CNN monitors.

AA 1779, DFW-SEA, 20:11 - 22:17, MD-80, 5E/F (F): The bumping auction begins half an hour before boarding - $100, then $200, then $250. Finally it peaks on board when the GA comes into the cabin and says there's a kid returning from Iraq who needs to catch up with his unit at Fort Lewis before they ship out (like the next day) to Korea, who'll take $300 and get put on the first morning flight. Bang, hand up, guy exits coach to applause from all on board, tattooed soldier enters to more applause, then there's a protracted period of seat-counting - did they need to bump in the first place? Three hand-counts in the back (how hard is it, really?) and then the bumpee gets back on board and disappears aft. Then there's commotion and he re-appears in the front, smiling and good-natured, to resume his journey to the DFW hotel and his $300 coupon.

None of which overly delays pushback and takeoff, which again is quick, the taxiway and wind gods being on our side tonight.

In-flight service is pretty much the same as earlier, with the nut/soy ratio reversed this time. No IFE on MD-80s, so she sleeps and I read more. Meal service is a choice of roast beef sandwich on Foccacia bread (okay with horse radish sauce) or the dreaded pizza. Herself is no dummy and will not make the same mistake twice; luckily for us in row 5 on an odd number flight we get a choice; folks in 3 and lower all got pizzaed, poor sods. Folks in the back didn't even get BOB apparently - ridiculous on a 4 hour flight in a flying weenie. Also, before takeoff, one of the FAs had come on the speaker and announced that if you were looking for a pillow there weren't any as they "were removed suddenly a month or two ago" and that blankets were in short supply and if you really needed one they'd see what they could do. Thank you for flying Easyj- er- American.

The FC seats on the MD-80 are newer (fabric instead of old leather) but snug and have even less legroom than on the 757. There was a thread recently on one of the boards about how people hate it when you grab the seatback in front of you to get up. Well how the hell do you do anything else when the seat in front of you is reclined and the armrests are fixed in place? Limbo?

Anyway, it's a long flight after a long day, but uneventful, and landing is on time in a rather deserted Sunday 10 PM Sea-Tac. The car is still there, the dog is overjoyed that his meal ticket has returned and that he's been released from the clutches of 5-year old nephews. I am still seriously torqued about my camera brain cramp, but life goes on and, truth be told, I still heart NY. And I sort of still heart AA, but it's tough love.

Next up - from the Emerald City to Oz…

mad_atta

Great report, Gardyloo. Looking forward to reading your adventures in Oz.