San Juan with Continental and Inter-Continental
Sep 14, 2006, 7:09 pm
#1
Original Poster
Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: Arizona, USA
Posts: 2,403
San Juan with Continental and Inter-Continental
:-: Introduction
This was a time for celebration. I finally landed a private practice (yay!), which coincided with my faculty appointment here at OSU. So it’s a good deal: I see patients three days a week and teach two days a week. Attention FlyerTalkers in CMH: please get sick as often as possible. I need the business!
I had considered many possibilities for this trip: Honolulu Tel Aviv, Lisbon, Bangkok, Panama, and Margarita Island were all possibilities. But as I planned the trip, my family in Honolulu announced that they would be on the mainland, the war in Lebanon started to escalate and the “no iPods or pens” restrictions had been introduced on transatlantic flights. Furthermore, I needed to be accessible via email and phone, since I would be starting two new jobs the week after I got back.
I’m a fan of the music of Obie Bermudez, I have a degree in Latin American Studies, so I decided on a short trip Puerto Rico, reserving Israel or Portugal for a later date. The fares and hotel rates were shockingly low, even for fancy hotels and first class tickets.
The Ritz-Carlton was full, so I “settled” for the nearby Ritz-Carlton in Isla Verde.
To gain some extra miles, I got a new Continental OnePass credit card (I already had the debit card) and a Priority Club credit card to boot. Why not?
When I bought the ticket, I used my new Continental credit card. When I got the statement, I noticed that the ballyhooed 5 percent discount never happened. I called Continental and they promptly refunded it. Turns out that I was supposed to type in a special “discount code.” The res agent was apologetic, explaining that this was in fine print. I am still amazed that they refunded the discount.
:-: Preparations
I had read many hotel reviews, which helped guide my decision to stay at the Inter-Continental. Sure enough, a couple of nights prior to my departure, I came across some scathing reviews, particularly alluding to indifferent or even hostile staff. I calmed myself by remembering that I had ready many stellar reviews.
There was a lot of work to do: lectures to prepare, insurance documents, etc. I had also picked up some DVDs to watch on the plane and in the hotel. Then kaboom! My laptop’s hard drive died the night before my trip. After three hours on the phone with Bangalore, HP agreed to send a new hard drive. So much for getting work done!
I had been spending way too much time reading about the TSA and their goofball restrictions. (Salad dressing is okay if it’s on the salad, but not if it’s in a separate container.) And I have some personal issues with the attitudes of “TSA Officers.” I don’t deal well with their stupid rules, public humiliation, and their insistence on barking instructions. My TSA phobia escalated so much that I decided that I could only deal with them if I was sedated. So I packed my bags, including some Xanax.
:-: CMH
Prepared for the worst, I arrived at the airport 90 minutes prior to departure. The airport was a ghost town. I waited for a family in front of me to check in, then I promptly “dropped” my bag. I forgot to assure that I received priority tags. This would come back to haunt me later.
There were no passengers at the TSA checkpoint. But I hadn’t even approached the x-ray machine before an ”officer” yelled, and I quote, “You better have your boarding pass OUT!” I was then snapped at by two “officers” for daring to put my shoes in a bin. He then shoved his hand through the metal detector with the typical “I didn’t get into cop school” style. He then demanded to see my belt buckle. This resulted in him seeing my boxer shorts, because I wasn’t wearing a belt. I hadn’t actually alarmed anything, so at least I finished at that point.
Even on a benzodiazepine, I was still agitated by the checkpoint experience.
After collecting myself emotionally, I then bought a variety of verboten items in the concourse: yogurt, water, salad dressing. I bought these products from a friendly Muslim women.
:-: 5 September 06: CO 3191 CMH-EWR ERJ-145 Seat 1A
Boarding was quick (no additional screening), and we taxied without delay. The flight was quick, smooth, and comfortable, considering that I had the one comfortable seat on the aircraft.
A friendly and good-natured flight attendant offered drinks without the cart.
We landed in Newark with time to spare.
:-: EWR
Terminal C has come a long way. It all seemed so new, clean, and calm. And there truly are flights to every corner of the globe.
I stopped at InMotion to rent a portable DVD player. This was surprisingly easy and inexpensive. The staff were friendly and made sure that I knew how to use their equipment. They have a limited selection of movies, but I had brought my own. I watched the first third of Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World while waiting at the gate.
:-: 5 September 06: CO 470 EWR-SJU 737-800 Seat 1D
Boarding was from the “pit,” but there were no other flights boarding down there. I took advantage of the “Elite Access” line and boarded without difficulty. Again, no additional screening.
In order to accommodate a couple traveling together, I moved back to 3D. Although I would have preferred the bulkhead, it would have been rude to make everyone else trade. It was, after all, less than four hours.
Shortly before pushback, the purser offered entrée choices:
The guy sitting next to me gently advised the purser on the correct pronunciation of “turbot” (the “t” is not silent.) The purser amusingly asked, “would you like a kuh-nife with that?”
After a reasonably brief taxi, we made an expeditious departure for the Caribbean. The weather was sunny and the flight was smooth.
Despite the cold nuts, I enjoyed a leisurely three-course lunch. Warm rolls, including my beloved pretzel rolls, were served several times. I drank a glass of an unknown Chardonnay that should best remain anonymous.
The turbot was slightly dry, but it had a great chimichurri-type sauce. The rice and roasted vegetables were excellent. The cheesecake was painfully sweet, but I still ate the whole thing.
Coffee and cordials were offered a few times.
I finished [i]Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World[/b] and watched Far from Heaven. I was deeply impressed. Far from Heaven was so good on a four-inch screen; it really spoke well for Julianne Moore, the directors, etc.
After a quick three –and-a-half hours, we landed at San Juan’s Luís Muñoz Marin Airport. Yet another place that has come a long way: I remembered a very dark, claustrophobic terminal. The renovated area was bright and easy to navigate.
Having failed to get an Elite baggage tag, I had to wait about 20 minutes for my bag. But I learned my lesson.
I then took an extortionate $12 cab ride to the hotel. (One can see the hotel from the airport and vice versa.)
:-: The Inter-Continental San Juan
A bubbly agent welcomed me to the hotel and promptly upgraded my room. Although there is no special Priority Club check-in, there are only two actual check-in positions. Nobody else was there, so this was not a problem.
The room itself was gorgeous: huge with a couch, balcony, sitting area, and a massive bed.
The hotel itself offers free wireless internet, a grim reminder of my broken computer. But I soon got over that.
The room service menu was largely a source of amusement, rather than temptation. A bowl of mixed nuts was, I believe, $11.00.
The following morning, I awoke, ready to enjoy the beach and pool. Sure enough, all of the pools were closed for renovation.
I thought about bagging everything and moving to a new hotel. But I decided that it was just too much effort. I decided that I could still enjoy the hotel without the pools. They have a great gym overlooking the Caribbean, replete with two whirlpools, and immediate access to the Caribbean.
The hotel also featured impeccable, polished service. I was delighted by the friendly, approachable, and enthusiastic staff. When I would walk in the lobby, they would often ask what I had done, or what my plans were for the day. They wanted to know where I was from and so on. The hotel managed to compensate for the construction by having such remarkably attentive service.
Since one could hear the hotel construction, I decided to take my belongings to other parts of the beach.
My feeling about Puerto Rico was, this is nice, but it’s not Ipanema or Waikiki, The
water was warm, the sun bright, but it’s not the same as Brazil or Hawaii.
The only other frustration was that Puerto Rico is made for couples. Although I’ve traveled the world on my own, I had never before gone to a “beach” destination alone. There were so many honeymooners, couples celebrating their anniversaries, and so forth. I felt a bit—well—lonely.
:-: The Caribbean National Forest
Given the pool situation, I decided to spend a day on a guided hiking tour. A malodorous tour guide with irritating jokes blathered on during the hour-long trip to the forest. It was advisable to keep a clear distance from the guide, due to his dental hygiene issues.
Fortunately, the other members of the tour group were great. I met a number of interesting people, and I had plenty in common with them.
The rainforest itself was wet and not terribly interesting. Although some of the vistas above the clouds were nice, it is not Iguazú.
One member of the group developed a fulminant case of APRS. This is one of those not-very-pc hospital terms; it refers to “Acute Puerto Rican Syndrome” or—my favorite term for this condition—status hispanicus. This woman was upset because she got wet on a tour of the rainforest. She decided to stay on the bus for the remainder of the day.
:-: San Juan
On my third day, I decided to take a pretty serious walking tour. I walked from Isla Verde to Old San Juan, via Condado, the Fort, and other ports-of-call. My feet still have blisters, but it was really very nice.
San Juan was incredibly friendly. In every store and every restaurant, even people on the street… this is one impressively hospitable city. And the walk by the Fort and government buildings is beautiful.
I preferred parts of Condado to Isla Verde. The latter seemed to just offer fast food and the airport. Condado, despite its seedier heritage, had a lot more to offer. The beach in Isla Verde is far nicer.
:-: SJU
Once again shelling out a sick some of money for a taxi to the airport, I made my way through the quick agricultural inspection and a very brief wait in the Continental Elite check-in line. The economy class line was pretty short.
I asked the agent for priority tags for my bags. He said—and I quote—“Of course. It’s good to have you on board.” I have no status on Continental, so this caught me by surprise.
Xanax-prepared, I proceeded to the TSA checkpoint. Apparently news hasn’t made it to Puerto Rico that the “puffer” machines don’t work. About half of the passengers (including me) had to be “puffed.”
The wait was about 15 minutes in line, during which time I politely expressed my views to another passenger who said, “I want them to do everything they can for security.” I calmly explained that I disagreed and explained how “security theater” is inconvenient, sometimes humiliating, and showcases American paranoia. She was a bit caught off guard that I had pondered this at great length.
Fortunately, the TSA staff in San Juan were friendly, smiling, and didn’t seem to pull any tricks. They cheerfully handed me my shoes and wished me a pleasant flight. Phew.
:-: 9 September 06. CO 476 SJU-EWR 737-800 Seat 1D
Boarding was prompt and without additional inspections. I settled into 1D, joined in 1E by a deadheading Flight Attendant.
Pablo, the purser, was almost exuberant despite his admitted lack of sleep. He doted on my seat-mate and the three of us chatted a fair bit.
Prior to pushback, Pablo offered entrée selections. The menu was as follows:
Once again airbone in short order, my seat-mate took a nap. I watched Walk on Water and the remake of The Manchurian Candidate. I loved the former; the latter was good just because of Meryl Streep and Liev Schreiber.
The paella was okay; nice flavor but kind of small and very few vegetables. I enjoyed a cold Heineken and once again ate the entire piece of cheesecake.
After she woke up, my seat-mate and I ended up sharing stories about bad flights. She did some pretty good imitations of bad flight attendants (yelling at the cabin, “Whoever wanted chicken, we’re out of it.”) She also introduced me to some of her “galley recipes,” which involve doctoring up the fruit cobbler from BusinessFirst. She looked at me in horror when I explained that I didn’t like the cobbler.
Although we arrived early at Newark, there was—surpise!—no gate. This merely meant that we arrived on time instead of early.
:-: EWR
Newark was busy but not difficult. I returned the DVD player and caught up on a few phone calls I had been neglecting.
I did see a troup of older, Indian women going from gate-to-gate for random wanding and bag inspections (aka ”gate rape”). This was not for “high risk” flights, but instead to Knoxville, Pittsburgh, etc.
Although I think that “gate rape” is a stupid idea, I was not quite so disturbed. These seemed like pleasant women, earning minimum wage for a pointless job. They certainly didn’t seem like the kind of people who would bark orders about belt buckles.
I really just wondered who was paying them and why.
Fortunately, my flight was not on their list.
:-: 9 September 06: CO 2516 EWR-CMH ERJ-145 Seat 12A
This flight featured Tiffani with an “i.” Tiffani was a flight attendant, who apparently graduated from the Sassy Dimwit Academy of Flight Attending. She issued a lot of stern warnings about carry-on baggage and got downright nasty with me because I said, “Yeah,” not “yes” in response to her questions about my ability to assist in an exit row. “That is not a ‘verbal yes’” she hissed and rolled her eyes. I thought about criticizing her for rolling her eyes, but I figured that she’d declare me a security risk and demand that I be removed from her flight.
Soon after takeoff, I fell asleep. I elected not to drink anything… I figured that Tiffani might correct my pronunciation or perhaps card me.
Once on the ground, we had the usual miserable long wait at the gate. ExpressJet flights at CMH are just awful for this reason: they won’t open the door until all of the gate-checked bags are offloaded and the cart is brought to the stairs. This takes 10-12 minutes and serves only to aggravate tired passengers. I wasn’t bothered; it got me some extra face-time with Tiffani.
The wait for baggage was maybe five minutes and my bag was perhaps the second or third on the belt.
:-: Epilogue
My computer is back up and running and I am happy in my new jobs. The trip served its purpose: it got me out of town, I got plenty of sun, and it was a decent escape.
I wrote to Inter-Continental and asked them to refund the “resort fee” because the pools were under construction. They made the refund the next day and left me a lengthy voice mail that was both sincere and apologetic. Again, I have no status with Inter-Continental or Priority Club, so I was surprised by how accommodating they were.
Continental Airlines
Grade A. With the exception of Tiffani, everyone was great. Friendly, approachable, and on time. The food was pretty good for airplane food and served in separate courses. There was inflight entertainment, blankets, pillows, and there was meal service in economy class as well.
Inter-Continental San Juan
Grade B+/A-. Although I wish that I had been warned about the pools and construction, this turned out to be only a minor inconvenience. Above all, they were so incredibly friendly and apologized both personally and financially for the inconvenience. In the end, a good experience.
San Juan
Grade B. It was okay. The people were great and some of the views were spectacular. San Juan also has the advantage of being close! No jet-lag, no long overnight flights. In exchange for the convenience, it’s not breathtaking. I wouldn’t be my first choice for my next vacation, but I also wouldn’t be averse to going back sometime.
The TSA
Grade C-. Although they were awful in Columbus, I was pleasantly surprised by San Juan. Perhaps my phobia derives more from my experiences here at CMH. I hope that their idiotic ban on cream cheese and Dasani water will end by the time I go on my next trip.
Thank you for reading my trip report; I look forward to your comments.
This was a time for celebration. I finally landed a private practice (yay!), which coincided with my faculty appointment here at OSU. So it’s a good deal: I see patients three days a week and teach two days a week. Attention FlyerTalkers in CMH: please get sick as often as possible. I need the business!
I had considered many possibilities for this trip: Honolulu Tel Aviv, Lisbon, Bangkok, Panama, and Margarita Island were all possibilities. But as I planned the trip, my family in Honolulu announced that they would be on the mainland, the war in Lebanon started to escalate and the “no iPods or pens” restrictions had been introduced on transatlantic flights. Furthermore, I needed to be accessible via email and phone, since I would be starting two new jobs the week after I got back.
I’m a fan of the music of Obie Bermudez, I have a degree in Latin American Studies, so I decided on a short trip Puerto Rico, reserving Israel or Portugal for a later date. The fares and hotel rates were shockingly low, even for fancy hotels and first class tickets.
The Ritz-Carlton was full, so I “settled” for the nearby Ritz-Carlton in Isla Verde.
To gain some extra miles, I got a new Continental OnePass credit card (I already had the debit card) and a Priority Club credit card to boot. Why not?
When I bought the ticket, I used my new Continental credit card. When I got the statement, I noticed that the ballyhooed 5 percent discount never happened. I called Continental and they promptly refunded it. Turns out that I was supposed to type in a special “discount code.” The res agent was apologetic, explaining that this was in fine print. I am still amazed that they refunded the discount.
:-: Preparations
I had read many hotel reviews, which helped guide my decision to stay at the Inter-Continental. Sure enough, a couple of nights prior to my departure, I came across some scathing reviews, particularly alluding to indifferent or even hostile staff. I calmed myself by remembering that I had ready many stellar reviews.
There was a lot of work to do: lectures to prepare, insurance documents, etc. I had also picked up some DVDs to watch on the plane and in the hotel. Then kaboom! My laptop’s hard drive died the night before my trip. After three hours on the phone with Bangalore, HP agreed to send a new hard drive. So much for getting work done!
I had been spending way too much time reading about the TSA and their goofball restrictions. (Salad dressing is okay if it’s on the salad, but not if it’s in a separate container.) And I have some personal issues with the attitudes of “TSA Officers.” I don’t deal well with their stupid rules, public humiliation, and their insistence on barking instructions. My TSA phobia escalated so much that I decided that I could only deal with them if I was sedated. So I packed my bags, including some Xanax.
:-: CMH
Prepared for the worst, I arrived at the airport 90 minutes prior to departure. The airport was a ghost town. I waited for a family in front of me to check in, then I promptly “dropped” my bag. I forgot to assure that I received priority tags. This would come back to haunt me later.
There were no passengers at the TSA checkpoint. But I hadn’t even approached the x-ray machine before an ”officer” yelled, and I quote, “You better have your boarding pass OUT!” I was then snapped at by two “officers” for daring to put my shoes in a bin. He then shoved his hand through the metal detector with the typical “I didn’t get into cop school” style. He then demanded to see my belt buckle. This resulted in him seeing my boxer shorts, because I wasn’t wearing a belt. I hadn’t actually alarmed anything, so at least I finished at that point.
Even on a benzodiazepine, I was still agitated by the checkpoint experience.
After collecting myself emotionally, I then bought a variety of verboten items in the concourse: yogurt, water, salad dressing. I bought these products from a friendly Muslim women.
:-: 5 September 06: CO 3191 CMH-EWR ERJ-145 Seat 1A
Boarding was quick (no additional screening), and we taxied without delay. The flight was quick, smooth, and comfortable, considering that I had the one comfortable seat on the aircraft.
A friendly and good-natured flight attendant offered drinks without the cart.
We landed in Newark with time to spare.
:-: EWR
Terminal C has come a long way. It all seemed so new, clean, and calm. And there truly are flights to every corner of the globe.
I stopped at InMotion to rent a portable DVD player. This was surprisingly easy and inexpensive. The staff were friendly and made sure that I knew how to use their equipment. They have a limited selection of movies, but I had brought my own. I watched the first third of Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World while waiting at the gate.
:-: 5 September 06: CO 470 EWR-SJU 737-800 Seat 1D
Boarding was from the “pit,” but there were no other flights boarding down there. I took advantage of the “Elite Access” line and boarded without difficulty. Again, no additional screening.
In order to accommodate a couple traveling together, I moved back to 3D. Although I would have preferred the bulkhead, it would have been rude to make everyone else trade. It was, after all, less than four hours.
Shortly before pushback, the purser offered entrée choices:
Cold nuts 
Salad with kalamata olives, oranges, and champagne vinagairette
Turbot with rice and grilled vegetables
OR
Mixed grill of beef and veal
Chocolate and caramel cheesecake
Salad with kalamata olives, oranges, and champagne vinagairette
Turbot with rice and grilled vegetables
OR
Mixed grill of beef and veal
Chocolate and caramel cheesecake
The guy sitting next to me gently advised the purser on the correct pronunciation of “turbot” (the “t” is not silent.) The purser amusingly asked, “would you like a kuh-nife with that?”
After a reasonably brief taxi, we made an expeditious departure for the Caribbean. The weather was sunny and the flight was smooth.
Despite the cold nuts, I enjoyed a leisurely three-course lunch. Warm rolls, including my beloved pretzel rolls, were served several times. I drank a glass of an unknown Chardonnay that should best remain anonymous.
The turbot was slightly dry, but it had a great chimichurri-type sauce. The rice and roasted vegetables were excellent. The cheesecake was painfully sweet, but I still ate the whole thing.
Coffee and cordials were offered a few times.
I finished [i]Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World[/b] and watched Far from Heaven. I was deeply impressed. Far from Heaven was so good on a four-inch screen; it really spoke well for Julianne Moore, the directors, etc.
After a quick three –and-a-half hours, we landed at San Juan’s Luís Muñoz Marin Airport. Yet another place that has come a long way: I remembered a very dark, claustrophobic terminal. The renovated area was bright and easy to navigate.
Having failed to get an Elite baggage tag, I had to wait about 20 minutes for my bag. But I learned my lesson.
I then took an extortionate $12 cab ride to the hotel. (One can see the hotel from the airport and vice versa.)
:-: The Inter-Continental San Juan
A bubbly agent welcomed me to the hotel and promptly upgraded my room. Although there is no special Priority Club check-in, there are only two actual check-in positions. Nobody else was there, so this was not a problem.
The room itself was gorgeous: huge with a couch, balcony, sitting area, and a massive bed.
The hotel itself offers free wireless internet, a grim reminder of my broken computer. But I soon got over that.
The room service menu was largely a source of amusement, rather than temptation. A bowl of mixed nuts was, I believe, $11.00.
The following morning, I awoke, ready to enjoy the beach and pool. Sure enough, all of the pools were closed for renovation.
I thought about bagging everything and moving to a new hotel. But I decided that it was just too much effort. I decided that I could still enjoy the hotel without the pools. They have a great gym overlooking the Caribbean, replete with two whirlpools, and immediate access to the Caribbean.
The hotel also featured impeccable, polished service. I was delighted by the friendly, approachable, and enthusiastic staff. When I would walk in the lobby, they would often ask what I had done, or what my plans were for the day. They wanted to know where I was from and so on. The hotel managed to compensate for the construction by having such remarkably attentive service.
Since one could hear the hotel construction, I decided to take my belongings to other parts of the beach.
My feeling about Puerto Rico was, this is nice, but it’s not Ipanema or Waikiki, The
water was warm, the sun bright, but it’s not the same as Brazil or Hawaii.
The only other frustration was that Puerto Rico is made for couples. Although I’ve traveled the world on my own, I had never before gone to a “beach” destination alone. There were so many honeymooners, couples celebrating their anniversaries, and so forth. I felt a bit—well—lonely.
:-: The Caribbean National Forest
Given the pool situation, I decided to spend a day on a guided hiking tour. A malodorous tour guide with irritating jokes blathered on during the hour-long trip to the forest. It was advisable to keep a clear distance from the guide, due to his dental hygiene issues.
Fortunately, the other members of the tour group were great. I met a number of interesting people, and I had plenty in common with them.
The rainforest itself was wet and not terribly interesting. Although some of the vistas above the clouds were nice, it is not Iguazú.
One member of the group developed a fulminant case of APRS. This is one of those not-very-pc hospital terms; it refers to “Acute Puerto Rican Syndrome” or—my favorite term for this condition—status hispanicus. This woman was upset because she got wet on a tour of the rainforest. She decided to stay on the bus for the remainder of the day.
:-: San Juan
On my third day, I decided to take a pretty serious walking tour. I walked from Isla Verde to Old San Juan, via Condado, the Fort, and other ports-of-call. My feet still have blisters, but it was really very nice.
San Juan was incredibly friendly. In every store and every restaurant, even people on the street… this is one impressively hospitable city. And the walk by the Fort and government buildings is beautiful.
I preferred parts of Condado to Isla Verde. The latter seemed to just offer fast food and the airport. Condado, despite its seedier heritage, had a lot more to offer. The beach in Isla Verde is far nicer.
:-: SJU
Once again shelling out a sick some of money for a taxi to the airport, I made my way through the quick agricultural inspection and a very brief wait in the Continental Elite check-in line. The economy class line was pretty short.
I asked the agent for priority tags for my bags. He said—and I quote—“Of course. It’s good to have you on board.” I have no status on Continental, so this caught me by surprise.
Xanax-prepared, I proceeded to the TSA checkpoint. Apparently news hasn’t made it to Puerto Rico that the “puffer” machines don’t work. About half of the passengers (including me) had to be “puffed.”
The wait was about 15 minutes in line, during which time I politely expressed my views to another passenger who said, “I want them to do everything they can for security.” I calmly explained that I disagreed and explained how “security theater” is inconvenient, sometimes humiliating, and showcases American paranoia. She was a bit caught off guard that I had pondered this at great length.
Fortunately, the TSA staff in San Juan were friendly, smiling, and didn’t seem to pull any tricks. They cheerfully handed me my shoes and wished me a pleasant flight. Phew.
:-: 9 September 06. CO 476 SJU-EWR 737-800 Seat 1D
Boarding was prompt and without additional inspections. I settled into 1D, joined in 1E by a deadheading Flight Attendant.
Pablo, the purser, was almost exuberant despite his admitted lack of sleep. He doted on my seat-mate and the three of us chatted a fair bit.
Prior to pushback, Pablo offered entrée selections. The menu was as follows:
Cold nuts
Caesar salad
Mixed grill of veal and beef (déjà vu)
OR
Paella
Chocolate and caramel cheesecake (déjà vu)
Caesar salad
Mixed grill of veal and beef (déjà vu)
OR
Paella
Chocolate and caramel cheesecake (déjà vu)
Once again airbone in short order, my seat-mate took a nap. I watched Walk on Water and the remake of The Manchurian Candidate. I loved the former; the latter was good just because of Meryl Streep and Liev Schreiber.
The paella was okay; nice flavor but kind of small and very few vegetables. I enjoyed a cold Heineken and once again ate the entire piece of cheesecake.
After she woke up, my seat-mate and I ended up sharing stories about bad flights. She did some pretty good imitations of bad flight attendants (yelling at the cabin, “Whoever wanted chicken, we’re out of it.”) She also introduced me to some of her “galley recipes,” which involve doctoring up the fruit cobbler from BusinessFirst. She looked at me in horror when I explained that I didn’t like the cobbler.
Although we arrived early at Newark, there was—surpise!—no gate. This merely meant that we arrived on time instead of early.
:-: EWR
Newark was busy but not difficult. I returned the DVD player and caught up on a few phone calls I had been neglecting.
I did see a troup of older, Indian women going from gate-to-gate for random wanding and bag inspections (aka ”gate rape”). This was not for “high risk” flights, but instead to Knoxville, Pittsburgh, etc.
Although I think that “gate rape” is a stupid idea, I was not quite so disturbed. These seemed like pleasant women, earning minimum wage for a pointless job. They certainly didn’t seem like the kind of people who would bark orders about belt buckles.
I really just wondered who was paying them and why.
Fortunately, my flight was not on their list.
:-: 9 September 06: CO 2516 EWR-CMH ERJ-145 Seat 12A
This flight featured Tiffani with an “i.” Tiffani was a flight attendant, who apparently graduated from the Sassy Dimwit Academy of Flight Attending. She issued a lot of stern warnings about carry-on baggage and got downright nasty with me because I said, “Yeah,” not “yes” in response to her questions about my ability to assist in an exit row. “That is not a ‘verbal yes’” she hissed and rolled her eyes. I thought about criticizing her for rolling her eyes, but I figured that she’d declare me a security risk and demand that I be removed from her flight.
Soon after takeoff, I fell asleep. I elected not to drink anything… I figured that Tiffani might correct my pronunciation or perhaps card me.
Once on the ground, we had the usual miserable long wait at the gate. ExpressJet flights at CMH are just awful for this reason: they won’t open the door until all of the gate-checked bags are offloaded and the cart is brought to the stairs. This takes 10-12 minutes and serves only to aggravate tired passengers. I wasn’t bothered; it got me some extra face-time with Tiffani.
The wait for baggage was maybe five minutes and my bag was perhaps the second or third on the belt.
:-: Epilogue
My computer is back up and running and I am happy in my new jobs. The trip served its purpose: it got me out of town, I got plenty of sun, and it was a decent escape.
I wrote to Inter-Continental and asked them to refund the “resort fee” because the pools were under construction. They made the refund the next day and left me a lengthy voice mail that was both sincere and apologetic. Again, I have no status with Inter-Continental or Priority Club, so I was surprised by how accommodating they were.
Continental Airlines
Grade A. With the exception of Tiffani, everyone was great. Friendly, approachable, and on time. The food was pretty good for airplane food and served in separate courses. There was inflight entertainment, blankets, pillows, and there was meal service in economy class as well.
Inter-Continental San Juan
Grade B+/A-. Although I wish that I had been warned about the pools and construction, this turned out to be only a minor inconvenience. Above all, they were so incredibly friendly and apologized both personally and financially for the inconvenience. In the end, a good experience.
San Juan
Grade B. It was okay. The people were great and some of the views were spectacular. San Juan also has the advantage of being close! No jet-lag, no long overnight flights. In exchange for the convenience, it’s not breathtaking. I wouldn’t be my first choice for my next vacation, but I also wouldn’t be averse to going back sometime.
The TSA
Grade C-. Although they were awful in Columbus, I was pleasantly surprised by San Juan. Perhaps my phobia derives more from my experiences here at CMH. I hope that their idiotic ban on cream cheese and Dasani water will end by the time I go on my next trip.
Thank you for reading my trip report; I look forward to your comments.
Sep 15, 2006, 8:58 pm
#2
Join Date: Apr 2000
Location: Houston, Texas
Programs: CO Silver
Posts: 2,600
Nice report! Congrats on your practice.
I guess we've got a cutback - the EWR-SJU-EWR flights had sundaes a year ago. The IAH-SJU-IAH flights, which are just a little bit longer (30 mins?) had sundaes as of June.
I guess we've got a cutback - the EWR-SJU-EWR flights had sundaes a year ago. The IAH-SJU-IAH flights, which are just a little bit longer (30 mins?) had sundaes as of June.
Sep 16, 2006, 5:22 am
#3
Original Poster
Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: Arizona, USA
Posts: 2,403
Continental actually specifies a 3.5 hour minimum for sundaes and cookies. These flights were just under that (about 3 hours and 20 minutes.) The cake has about 12,000 calories, so I didn't really miss the ice cream.
I had considered going through Houston for a few extra miles. But that would have meant a long trek (CMH-IAH) in an RJ.
I had considered going through Houston for a few extra miles. But that would have meant a long trek (CMH-IAH) in an RJ.