Flygirlnz

Thanks, Adam, for the kind words. I'm sorry to hear about your parents, but having seen what all this has done to so many older people (including my own parents) I very much understand what you mean. It's just been such a hard, hard time.

On a more first-world problems note…

It IS sad to see Air NZ doing what it's doing, but I guess it's a tough industry, and all about survival. We still choose them, wherever we can, but there's definite distinctions now between people across different bits of the business - domestic 737s vs the Airbus, the 767 crews vs the triple 7s.

We find TT J a bit hit and miss - everything seems to depend on the FSM. Pacific can be up and down. Our first experience on a medium haul route has not been great. But the LAX/SFO routes, which are our staple, are still usually awesome. That's where you get that quintessential NZ experience, and it's worth every penny. The food is definitely better, and little things, like the La Prairie in the amenity kit (vs Clarins on this trip…) make the difference.

Still, it could be economy - and we are fortunate that, for now, we have good access to upgrades, and thanks to us booking really far in advance, can usually get them confirmed a long way out. If those go…we've definitely be throwing 'loyalty' to the wind and casting our net, and our travel dollars, wider. Economy has got so awful (that whole 10 across thing…), and premium economy is the new starting point…and once you're talking that sort of money, you have some options. I am hoping the flight home will restore my faith.

The quakes have actually been the driving force for all our travel. It seems like nothing in our lives is really the same any more - a $100k contract disappeared the day of the Feb one because the client went into quake recovery mode; we had to move from our office, which was in the CBD, so that was the end of that; our home has around NZ$750K worth of damage and the insurer is still confirming a repair strategy, nearly 4 years on. Our gym fell down, taking with it our day to day exercise routine. All our favourite restaurants and bars are no longer. And it's just a sad, exhausting, grey place to be. None of our kids' peers will stay in town for their university years, and I can understand why. We are 10, 15, maybe 20 years away from having a real 'city' again. These kids need something more.

So we live this funny life with one foot here and one foot there, never really trusting it won't all start up, all over again, and get on a plane at every opportunity.

So it's sad and grim and at times, feels hopeless. But in a funny sort of a way, we really wouldn't change it - it's been the impetus for us to do so much together as a family, and share some just incredible experiences and adventures. We're definitely all the better for it. Though our retirement funds are not…

Way back when, we used the proceeds of our contents insurance payouts as a sort of travel slush fund, figuring that really, we didn't need any more 'things' than we had already. You get to a certain age…

And so, in the past four years we've done Paris, the South of France, visited London at Royal Wedding time; there've been multiple trips to LA, crazy long weekends and blingy hotels in Vegas, and an apartment with a view right out at Alcatraz in San Francisco; Mr FGNZ and I have taken conferences in New York, Chicago, and San Diego. Closer to home, we've done many many a jaunt to Melbourne, Sydney, Brisbane, Rarotonga and Fiji.

Because life is short and can be taken away in 43 seconds (it happened to people we know, in a building we should have been in, that day), we truly have lived like there is no tomorrow. Our kids have seen things and learned things that have made them smart and savvy beyond their years. Ironically, all that J travel and all those snazzy hotels have taught them less about of a sense of entitlement, as how impeccable manners, a genuine interest in others, and a sense of humanity, can take you a long way in life.

They truly believe they can settle anywhere on the planet that they choose: which is a wonderful thing for two kids from a couple of long skinny islands at the bottom of the world.

And so, onward. Mr FGNZ and Ms are currently out at the markets. It turns out we've raised a demon barterer - I'm totally taking her with me if I get any motivation to venture out into the Easter Sunday crowds and heat. But maybe not. They're serving afternoon tea at the Langham Place Club, and it's looking mighty tempting...

Flygirlnz

Last night in Shanghai:
 Mr and Mrs Bund
Sir Elly’s, the Peninsula’s rooftop bar.

Having failed to secure a seat at Ultraviolet (really, who were we kidding? And anyway, it would have cost us more than the food budget for the entire trip), we settled on Mr and Mrs Bund, Paul Pairet's 'other' Shanghai restaurant, for our Shanghai last supper.

Getting there, as they say, is half the fun. Despite the concierge having written down the address to give to the taxi driver, the driver still tried to tip us out, unceremoniously, half way down the Bund. A bit of muttering and a couple of u-turns later, we begrudgingly exited the cab, figuring we were somewhat close, but apprehensive about just how close - the Bund being 1.5km long, and all.

No matter, I had a roaming data package and Google Maps. It was only a few taps later, and out popped….this:



The single least helpful set of instructions I have ever had.

Despite the slight delay, we were bang on time for our 6pm reservation.

We'd deliberately booked early. The last time we tried to eat at a civilised hour Shanghai time, Ms FGNZ just about fell asleep at the table.

In case you’re looking for it, there’s no street frontage for M&M, and not even a sign on the street. You go into the lobby of one of those gracious old Bund buildings, hang a right, and are met by the sight of a hanging bike sculpture, all arty and lit up.



The elevator is bright red, and takes you to the restaurant, hidden behind giant floor to ceiling doors.

Once we are inside, it’s open, airy, and the view is to die for. The wait staff are outfitted in funky jeans with braces and Mr&Mrs badges, great music is pumping, and we’re seated close enough to the enormous windows to get a postcard-perfect view. Just to our right, raised up on a platform, is in Alice-in-Wonderland table. Seating about 20 people, it has these giant chairs that dwarf their occupants. I’m definitely asking for that table next time around. And there will be a next time.

Like many restaurants here - even the good ones - the menu features photos, but if you go, don’t be put off by that. The food is good. Really, really good.



We were tempted by the three or four of the set menus, which ran to varying amounts, but in the end couldn’t agree on which one (they were for two people). So each of us chose an entree, main and dessert of our own.

Mr FGNZ’s chicken entree, my smoked salmon (sliced at the table and with a variety of accompaniments - red onion, capers, egg, parsley..) and the Kids’ shrimp cocktails were all sublime.



For mains, Mr FGNZ chose the salmon



Ms had the chicken fillet, and Mast. and I shared rib eye with foie gras. For sides we had a tomato salad



dauphinoise potatoes with truffle and pancetta (it was as awesome as it sounds) and the longest asparagus stalks we’d ever seen. Clearly, they grow ‘em big in Shanghai. We washed it all down with Omihi Hills, a Waipara wine produced just a 15 minute drive from home that I’d walk past in the supermarket. But somehow, it tasted really special, all these miles away.

Really, we were all way too stuffed to the gills for dessert, but that wasn’t stopping anyone. My Tarte Tatin, Ms FGNZ’s strawberries and chantilly cream and Master’s chocolate dessert were all good. But it was Mr FGNZ’s ‘lemon tart’ that really took the cake (‘scuse the dessert pun).

The crust came as a long stick of short, sweet pastry resting on top of a lemon whose rind had been soaking for days in...something awesome...when you cut into it, the lemon was filled with a cream mixture and citrus slices. Absolutely unreal, and it provided hours of entertainment as Family FGNZ spent the rest of the evening trying to work out how they got the creamy filling into the lemon.



Mr FGNZ’s lemon pie.

The Family FGNZ conclusion was that it was the best meal ever. Which meant it beat out the Bellagio Buffet (the previous reigning champion), Christmas dinner at the Peninsula Beverly Hills, and our new local favourite, Masu in Federal Street in Auckland.

The tab was fully 3.5 times what we’d pay for a family dinner out at home, but worth every single penny.

We finished dinner around 8.30 - too early to call it a night, especially Mr FGNZ, who was on a total sugar high. Fortunately it was only a few steps to the Peninsula - the local branch of our all-time favourite LA hotel.

It seemed rude not to stop by.

And so we did, letting the greeter at the lift know that we were just after a quick drink, and was there somewhere with a view?

It seemed there was. Sir Elly’s rooftop bar.

Naff name, but spectacular views all the way down the Bund and over to the other side of the river.

We’d already had a taste of it at Mr and Mrs Bund



Ms FGNZ enjoys the view from the small balcony at M&M B

But it was nothing on what the Pen had to offer.

We saw party boats, lit up to the nines sail up the river serenely alongside rubbish tugs and other hard working river vessels. There was an endless stream of traffic, audible, but muted by our location so high up in the sky.

While Mr FGNZ tucked into his North Bund Margarita, I sipped away at my Benedictine (on the rocks). We stayed until we could stay no more, before weaving our way back to the elevator, back to the reality of life at ground level, and steeling ourselves for the prospect of leaving this magical place in the morning.

Next stop, Macau (via HK - long story, don’t even start me) by way of Cathay Pacific and Turbojet.

goodeats21

Excellent reporting. I love your style of writing...and your style of family travels.

Looking forward to the rest.

Cheers.

adampenrith

Carpe Diem - I totally get that.

Mum passed when she was 89 and Dad 16 months earlier when he was 86, so they had a great life, lots of exciting adventures, they missed there 60th wedding anniversary by 5 months, but we all got together and had the celebration of love they were planning. My sister who lives in MEL and myself, we already had our flights booked, so it was good.We listed Mums house and had an offer at GV (10% above the market at that time) the next day which we took, cash sale and 10 day settlement. So things were meant to be.

In hindsight I should have gone to work for NZ when I left school, but hindsight is the best vision. We always used to use them, but EK was more tempting, and often cheaper, I used to grab the $99 one ways every January, and often upgrade to J for an extra $100. That was always a bit of a bonus.

Today we gather all our points on Velocity, as that works with credit cards etc, I have just cashed in all our Garuda Points on J flights, and we are converts to Air Asia X who have a great J product (yes you have to buy most of your food and beverage or bring it on board ) but the seats and space are the most important aspect. A return to KUL from SYD is $1500 so thats a huge bonus.

Possessions are just that, memories are inside the heart, I applaud you for doing whatever makes you happy, and travel certainly works for me.

What a great job you have done raising young adults with the mindset they can do whatever they set their minds to.

Looking forward to your updates

Flygirlnz

Chuan Spa, Langham Xiantiandi
Shanghai to Macau (via HK) - the long way
CX367 - A330-300
2hrs 20 or so

Turbojet Premier Jet Foil
HK to Macau
Red ferry that bumped around a lot
55 minutes

Despite my best efforts to provide a stress-free departure from Shanghai for Mr FGNZ, we still ended up with suitcases perched on seats and knees. The hotel had arranged a Buick this time around, but still, we proved too much for the trunk.

I was in an (unusually) zen-like mood, with the effects of yesterday’s 3 hour Chuan Spa ritual lingering. Since I had barely shopped, and was still deeply in my ‘experiences over material goods’ phase, I had decided to indulge myself at the Langham’s flagship Chuan Spa at the ‘big’ Langham just over the road from 88.

It was easily the fanciest, and biggest, spa I’ve ever set foot in. The first floor is home to a decent sized gym (also able to be used by the 88 Guests), beautiful changing rooms with a steam room, sauna and loos with heated toilet seats (!) that automatically go up and down with a gentle tap. Attendants magically appear to keep everything in pristine order, and automatic lockers close with the simple touch of a swipe device. None of the keying in of codes and the frustration of broken lockers at its Auckland sister hotel.

Downstairs in one direction, are the spa treatment rooms - ten of them in total down a long, low-lit corridor that takes you along a marble path, pebbles, branches and candles on each side, for as far as you can see. It’s all beige marble, flickering candles, lovely smells and beautiful music.

The other direction takes you into an equally gorgeous, clean and classy indoor swimming pool and spa. There are super comfy deck chairs to lounge in, with low-light lamps to read by. We didn’t see a single other soul, the three times we visited.

My Spa Ritual consisted of a facial, massage and ‘feet retreat’, all of which were wonderful, and inexplicably, about 25% cheaper than at the Chuan spa in Auckland.

I would need every ounce of serenity the Ritual had left me with, for the travel day ahead.

It looked good on paper: Shanghai to Hong Kong on the 1225 flight, arriving in around 2.40, straight over to the HKIA Sky Pier by 4pm to check in for the 5pm ferry to Macau, a quick taxi ride to the hotel, and by 8pm we’d be watching acrobats, motorbikes and synchronised swimmers at the House of the Dancing Waters.

We’d booked tickets for the 8pm show, and all was well in the world, until we checked in at the Cathay Pacific counter and were greeted with this...




Closely followed by this...




The air traffic control delays were one thing. I got that.

But the FGNZ family scattered across the rear of a fully laden 777, with an already tight connection time? I didn’t get that at all.

We’d booked these tickets in conjunction with the rest of our NZ itinerary 7 (yes, seven) months ago. While the kids were pointy-ending it on our upgrades, Mr and I had paid for our business class fares with hard, cold cash. OK, sale fares. But still, paid for.

I’d broached the issue of seating four times in total over the months - twice with the Air NZ agent I booked the tickets through, once with the NZ ‘premium team’, and once by calling Cathay Pacific direct.

But because the tickets were booked via Air NZ, Cathay wouldn’t touch the booking - even to get a seat assignment. Air New Zealand just threw its hands in the air - despite the Cathay reservations agent not understanding why NZ couldn’t do this for us. Other airlines, she said, do it for their Elites by calling a special Cathay phone number.

And so I did what every frustrated traveller did, and turned to Flyer Talk, where I found reports of other NZ Elites managing to get hold of the CX PNR through NZ and accessing premium seating with a phone call.

But it was not to be, and lesson learned. It’s the third time this has happened to me with these multi-player itineraries via NZ. Never again.

So there we were - 2 x Gold Elite airpoints members, 1 x Gold and one Silver on an NZ itinerary left in the lap of the last-minute seating Gods. We watched as the poor CX check in agent try his darndest for us, printing out and ripping up boarding passes until they were a pile of confetti on his desk, calling the seating gods directly, to try to help us out, and even yelling across the counters at his colleagues (what IS it with all that yelling in Shanghai, anyway? And the horn-honking...but I digress).

Being the sunny-side up travelers that we are, we remained optimistic of making the 5pm ferry, despite the ATC delays. The flight was a short one, we should be on the ground in HK by 3pm. Still, I took the precaution of emailing the Dancing Waters people, just in case, hoping they’d take pity on us, despite the very firm no cancellations, no changes warning on the tickets.

As the travel Gods taketh away, so they giveth. Ms FGNZ and I were just about to tuck into our Whoppers in the food hall opposite the gate (no lounge access, this trip), when the very efficient Dancing Waters booking office emailed to inform us that, were we to produce a delay certificate (whatever that was) by 1500 hrs, they would move our tickets to the next evening at no cost.

It was nearly lunchtime, but we were without lounge access, and so had the novel experience of hunting down the airport food court. It was actually not too bad...a noodle/dumpling place, cafe, a wine bar, an Italian pizza/pasta takeaway joint, and a Burger King.

Being used to the Kiwi tiered seat system, where you choose to ‘upgrade’ to food, drinks and full IFE for short international flights, and unable to ascertain what sort of ticket Air NZ had actually purchased on our behalf, we decided it was best to eat before we left. Especially given the frazzled connection time between the plane and the ferry at the the other end.

Lunch was a family traveling dream, with everyone finding something they were content to eat. For just a moment, all the stars and planets were aligned.



Mast FGNZ’s food court lunch

However, as surely as night follows day, that sense of well-being evaporated instantly when, in a moment of excitement, Ms FGNZ emptied the entire contents of her super jumbo diet coke into my Kenzo carry-on bag.

I love that bag. Mr FGNZ persuaded me to buy it in a sale in Melbourne last year. Even on sale, it was like a week’s grocery money. But it’s served me well - deep enough to take my laptop, a change of clothes, ipad, Kindle, large note book, makeup and misc. cables bags, well-pocketed enough to keep everything in order, but fashion-y enough to work as a cross between a big hand-bag and carry-on.



In my next life, I want to be one of those people like in the hand-bag ads, where they splay their 5 items out onto a table, elegantly, and those 5 things scream elegance/sophistication/etc. As it is, mine scream ‘bad eyesight/teeth grinder/highlighter thief/receipt hoarder.

Mr FGNZ, sensing the impending moment of Flygirlish doom between Ms and myself, hastily took to restoring order, busying himself by fishing ice cubes, sticky brown fizzy water and God only knows what else out of the bottom of the bag. What a guy.

We were all dried out just in time to board.

About the only time we fly economy on a widebody these days is in the States. Between my credit card points (we charge as many company expenses as we can to an airpoints earning card) and those racked up with my inter-island commute and other client visits, there’s always a healthy balance to dip into for upgrades.


And so it was a good reality check for everyone, as the menfolk dispersed themselves in different directions, and Ms and I settled into a 4 across in the last row of economy (right next to the toilets. Ewwwww...)

We were, however, pleasantly surprised by a few things.

Legroom. It was actually OK. Wouldn’t want to do 10 - 12 hours in it, but 4 - 6 would be fine, so long as there was no sleeping involved.

Food and wine!! For free!! Now THERE’S a novelty. Wine was good, too.



IFE - absolutely crystal clear. Never seen anything like it on a plane. Would leave my iPad powered off in a heartbeat. Watched August, Osage County, which I have been looking out for on NZ services for months now.

Multi-cultural flight crew. Call me paranoid (or worse), but especially after Asiana/SFO and all the speculation around MH370, I prefer my cockpit culture to have a Western influence. Throw in a few bolshy Poms, Kiwis and Irish folk unafraid to challenge things in a whoop-whoop moment, any day of the week.

The ATC delays got us, big time, and we sat on the Tarmac for what felt like forever. Meal service was fast, and efficient, though time for just the one glass of wine when you’re exiled to the last row before the loos.

We touched down in HK at around 3.40pm, having made up some of the time we’d lost. If we really hoofed it, we could make the Ferry check-in by 4, just before the close off for the 5pm sailing.

What we hadn’t factored in was the time lost in reuniting everyone from three different locations on the aircraft. I could see Mast FGNZ a couple of rows ahead, and managed to communicate a ‘wait at the door’ message to him. A text to Mr would hopefully sort him out. And I had Ms right by my side.

That 5pm ferry was within our sights...until disaster struck as the fully laden 777 spewed its load out onto the concourse. We were lost in a sea of people, Ms and I, frantically looking around for Mast, who was last seen fighting his way up the opposite aisle, and Mr, who still hadn’t responded to my text.

Ms and I waited a few moments, spinning this way, desperately scanning faces, before deciding our best course of action was to high-tail it to the ferry counter and get in line. After all, there was only one way out (despite the escalators and the train) to the transit point, and everyone knew we were heading for that ferry counter.

Out of breath and feeling like the Mother and Daughter Team on the Amazing Race, FGNZ and I made it to the counter at 3.56. Literally two minutes later, Team Number 2 rocked up behind us, from different directions. Nice.

Despite us having made it within four minutes of the cut-off time, there was no budging the Turbojet people. We had two choices. Wait until the regular 7.30pm sailing from HKIA, or buy tickets on a First Class ferry leaving the Hong Kong ferry terminal at 6.30pm, which they’d bus us to.

The consensus was fast and firm. Let’s just keep on moving, no matter the cost.

So I set about obtaining the requisite Delay Certificate from Cathay, before we had to meet for the transfer.

You’ll recall we had until 3pm to produce said piece of paper, so that the Dancing Waters people would shift our 8pm tickets to the next night. Generously, while we’d been in the air, they’d moved the deadline to 6pm, which seemed like oodles of time. Until I began the interaction with CX.

Need to know why, first, the rep told me.
Show tickets, I responded.
No, need to know why the delay, she responded.
ATC issues, I countered (sheesh, just look it up! You’re the airline...)
Need to know properly, she said.
??? I looked.
They don’t need a reason, I explained, just a certificate I can send to confirm that the plane landed late.
No dice, said she (paraphrased). I need to make phone calls to check why it was delayed. That could take time.

We went backwards and forwards a few more times, before I asked for a supervisor. Somehow, that seemed to do it.

The delay certificates came out, big, bold slashes through the ‘why’ portion of the form. I photographed them, emailed them off to the Dancing Waters people, and we made our way to the designated meeting area for the Ferry escort.



Much to Mr FGNZ’s relief, the first class ferry came with porter service.

A bus ride later, we found ourselves in a ‘lounge’ at the HK ferry terminal, waiting for our ride to Macau. The ‘lounge’ was a glassed off area in the corner, one part of it for Super Grand and the other part Premier Grand passengers. You could literally leap the brown (Super) couches to catapult yourself onto a white (Premier) couches to lounge-hop.

Whatever. We were beyond caring about our class of travel. It was 6pm, now, and all we wanted to do was get to Macau, check into our 2 bedroom mansion at the Sofitel Pointe 16 (bargain internet deal secured months ago), and be done with travel for another day.

We settled into our Super Premium seats (Scandinavian leather, apparently), logged onto the free wifi, and stared blankly at the screen in front of us (the ‘top quality onboard entertainment system) as it pumped out one Macau promo after another. Dinner service - a chicken breast, frozen peas and corn and gravy) offered a moment of levity (so THAT’S what we paid the first class fare for!) but the wine and coffee that were apparently part of the ticket price, never even appeared. No matter, we were beyond even asking.



Thank God for the wi-fi

A turbulent 55 minutes later, we docked in Macau.

Flygirlnz

Two nights in Macau
The Sofitel Mansions

We spent months trying to work out which 'Mansion' we'd ask for, but in the end, we couldn't agree, and so decided to leave it to chance. After all, it was Macau we were visiting, and this was the closest we'd get to gambling, since neither Mr nor I were remotely interested in casinos.

There were five mansions in total, each as over the top and excessive as the other. Best of all, starting seven months out on booking.com, I was able to secure a 2 bedroom Mansion for what you'd normally pay for 2 (nice) hotel rooms.

The mansions vary in size from 120-262 square metres, and came in 1, 2 and 3 bedroom configurations. We’d get club access, Hermes toiletries and - according to the website, the 'secluded swimming pool exclusively for Mansion guests...an extra attraction for all who value their privacy.'
Given the extra 10kg I'd stacked on lately from living half my life at the Langham, instead of the Auckland apartment, I most certainly did value my privacy. So this was all good.

Mr favoured the MJ mansion. According to the website: 'when it’s time for an extra touch of fantasy, this is the only choice. Diamante trimmings, luxury fabrics on the walls, Michael Jackson insignia and memorabilia marry with high technology to make the MJ Mansion a sparkling, all-singing and dancing environment like no other. A rain-forest shower and a Jacuzzi with unique river views add to the enjoyment of the grown-up toys including Denon audio system, the iPod dock and strategically placed TV screens.'

Maybe he was attracted by the extra touch of fantasy or those 'grown up toys', but after 20 years of marriage and traveling with two teenagers, I am thinking not. More likely, it is Mr's magpie tendencies. He loves sparkly things, no matter how tacky and over the top.

On to Avant Garde, where 'minimalist décor...appeals to trendy young professionals and fashionistas looking for a new setting for photo shoots...'. There was more. Something about Philippe Starck dining chairs and a free-standing Italian bath tub. But there was nothing here for the FGNZ family but potential disaster and low self esteem.

Eternal Glamour, where the 'generously sized marble bathroom is the place to forget that time exists while relaxing in the sunken Jacuzzi or under the refreshing rainforest shower... an outstanding choice for comfort-loving leisure travellers who appreciate the finer things in life' would be lovely under any other circumstances. But it sounded like Fancy Hotel Suite, Anywhere City.

So moving right along to my personal favourite, Blanc Romance. Get a load of this:

'Brides fall in love all over again when they enter this ultra-feminine setting. If it’s a white wedding, it must be Blanc Romance for the honeymoon where the newly-weds can enjoy all the magical extra touches that say prestige, tranquillity and exclusivity. Enjoy the best from East and West while sipping fine French Champagne and relaxing in the magnificent Jacuzzi. Watch Macau’s ever-changing riverfront while luxuriating in water filled with authentic French Hermès bubbles.'
Ok, so there was no wedding, let alone a white one. But 'prestige', 'tranquility' and 'exclusivity'? What's not to love?

Plenty, according to family FGNZ, who dismissed it out if hand. 'Boring', according to Ms FGNZ. ‘Impractical’, according to Mr. ‘All that white’. And in hindsight, he was probably right, given the diet coke vs Kenzo incident.

Reluctantly moving on (me) but with a great deal of relief (them) we come to Black Galaxy, where 'fin-de-siecle style' (I had to Google it, that's how much of a pleb I am) 'adds a note of grandeur and glamour. Comfort lovers will enjoy the luxurious bathroom with its sunken Jacuzzi, rain shower, massage bed and sauna. The well-stocked entertainment room appeals to all ages for lively family evenings.'

Now THAT sounded like us. Tacky, shiny, blingy, grand and glamorous, all at once. And then there was the sunken jacuzzi...

For some reason, we just never got around to putting in a request for our preference.

And so we arrived at the mansions by shuttle bus at 8pm, bedraggled and travel weary, ready to be surprised.

We came in through the main Sofitel Pointe 16 reception area, in all it's prettiness.





To the Mansion's elevator with all its…whateverness


I am genuinely frightened that Mr FGNZ may attempt to do this to our dining room ceiling

We were taken up to the Club for check-in, where we were given a rundown of Club privileges. I've only ever stayed at the Sofitel in Brisbane before, and was again pleasantly surprised by how polished and professional the staff were, how extensive the Club offering, and nice the environments were.



From there, we took another set of elevators to the Mansions, in another wing of the hotel.



Stepping out of the elevator we came face to face with a huge indoor glass lily pond (a pond filled with glass lilies rather than a glass pond with lilies, if you get my drift. Sort of a tribute to the Bellagio ceiling, but on the floor).

We were taken straight past it to two double doors at the end of the pond, and into...

Black Galaxy.


The Black Galaxy living room

The kids and Mr were excited. I was either too tired after all the mini travel dramas, or still secretly harbouring a subconscious desire to be a bride again, to care. Plus, it STUNK of cigarette smoke. Of course it did - this was Macau. I should have thought to ask about a non-smoking room. If such a thing even exists here.


The master bed/room

Whatever. The bed was super comfy. The jacuzzi was deep, with floor to ceiling windows and views of the twinkly lights of Macau and the harbour, and there were still half price drinks to be had downstairs in the Rendezvous bar, even I'd we had missed the cocktails and canapés in the Club.

It took some time for Mr FGNZ to find the right switch to turn out the lights. About as much time as it took me to locate all the showers, television sets and bathrooms. They seemed to go on forever, tucked into dark Black Galaxy corners, and could be found in clusters. We slept the sleep of the wiped out safe in the knowledge there would be no queues for the bathroom tomorrow.

Once morning came and Mr worked out how to open the curtains with his Starship Enterprise machine



The view was both impressive and disquieting. Impressive for its sweep of the harbour, and for how high up we were. Disquieting because we looked down on small, narrow streets in what looked to be a pretty poor neighbourhood. There's something a bit uncomfortable about that when you're temporarily immersed in Hermes toiletries, sunken jacuzzis, floor to ceiling marble and chandeliers. It made me wonder if the high rollers who stayed here ever noticed, or cared.

The view from one side..



And the other..




The Jacuzzi. Actually bigger than it looks.


After a really lovely breakfast outside by the main pool on level 6, Mr and Ms ventured out to the Old Portuguese quarter and the facade of the cathedral ('Meh' was the consensus on both), and I took the opportunity to catch up on all the work I'd neglected over our action packed Shanghai days. I might also have taken the opportunity to try out the jacuzzi, which was pretty awesome, and have an afternoon nap. Also awesome.


Making the most of the private pool. We never saw another soul, the whole time we were there.

That evening, we taxi'd down to the Cotai strip for the Dancing Waters show, a 90 minute rip off of Cirque du Soleil's 'O' with a tenuous plot line and weird East-meets-West message. What it lacked in, well, making sense, it made up for with acrobats, people leaping from great heights, motorbike stunts (you'd have to ask the rest of the FGNZers about those, I couldn't look) and costumes. Loads of fun, and, along with the super-bling room, just what we came to the Vegas of the East for.

A late dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe (awesome burger, even if it was the second day running. Usually I, lucky to eat two a year!) and we were off to bed, ready for another ferry journey, another border crossing, and two Sweet Suites at the Langham Place, Mongkok.

worldiswide

We are on our way to Shanghai and Hong Kong for a long weekend so I started to read your trip report for a year new ideas. But to veer slightly ot, this post really got me. NZ is one of our favorite places to go and we were in CC a few days before the quake and have been back a couple of times since so our observations were very meaningful and poignant. It's amazing how long it is taking to rebuild and I'm sure many taken your viewpoint to enjoy life. Your Comment about change to routine also caught me..maybe that is what we all need to break our habits and routines and do so something new. have a couple of maxims we live by, you can't be afraid of dying, that will certainly happen, but you really cant be afraid of living its the only choice we have, and it's not true you only live once, you live every day. So like you we want to put our feet down in new and interesting places, and see as much of the world as we can. It's getting good increasingly more difficult to find something truly unique but also easier to get anywhere on the globe in a day or two. You either have a passion for exploration and discovery or you really can't understand it. This community and reports is for the former. Anyway enough philosophical thoughts but you got me thinking . Enjoyed reading!

moondog

Never schedule a flight out of shanghai that necessitates flying through Chinese air space without allowing for at least a one hour delay. The same goes for every other airport that lies on the bj-sh-hk triangle.

Circumknowitall

Thats a 737-200. Well spotted and fantastic TR ^

Flygirlnz

Great advice, thanks Moondog (for next time).

Circumknowitall, you are a true spotter. I'd still love to know what it was actually DOING there. There were a few other wrecked cars strewn around, so I just assumed scrap yard. But in the middle of the 'burbs? And how'd it get there?

I am so happy for you, Worldiswide, that you were not in CHC just a few days later. You probably would have been physically fine, the overwhelming majority of us, so fortunately, were. But many still struggle with the emotional/mental aftermath, especially given that we had 12,500 + aftershocks that just didn't stop coming, and we sometimes still get unpleasant reminders of the M4+ variety. Personally, I have this Tourettes-like thing where I jump and make a noise if a truck goes by or there's a bang. Totally involuntary, and SO embarrassing if I'm out of town in a meeting. Locals get it, though.
I often joke that I think our brains have been shaken about and that we'll never really get over it, like Vets when a car backfires.
I am not sure why anyone would come to CHC any more. I know Lonely Planet and the NYT tout us as an 'emerging' destination, and gives us a sort of hospital pass on account of our 'resilience' and 'creativity' or whatever. But the reality is not a really great place to visit - unless you're interested in seeing what a CBD looks like, flattened. And that is a bit of an apocalypse-now scene, if you remember what it looked like before. Otherwise it's just street after street of dusty, rubbly, empty sites, the odd half-deconstructed building, and a lot of carparks.
I think of it often. If I fall in love with a city, I don't fall in love with its suburbs. Ever. So without a CBD, what is there to have a connection with?
Anyway. Enough already. I realised late last night, with my body clock still totally out of whack, that it is our wedding anniversary in 2 days (I was generous of spirit enough to remind Mr FGNZ. We decided no presents, Fish'n'chips at home so we don't feel ripped off and let down by local restaurants, and we'll each buy a really nice bottle of wine). Which means this time next year, is our 20th. So the next big thing will have to be some sort of Big Thing trip. Not sure where…torn between wanting to put our feet down in new places and being absolutely certain we'll love wherever we are going.
I think a stop in Shanghai for to Ultraviolet is def in order. At least I know 'where' for the anniversary dinner. And I have plenty of time to save up for it…

worldiswide

First of all happy anniversary to you. You seem like you are celebrating life every day. I can't believe 12500 aftershocks occurred. I can imagine you are changed forever. I do think people should continue to visit and support the rebuilding efforts and NZ in general. That's part of Community too and hopefully tourist dollars can contribute to the rebuilding effort.

Flygirlnz

Macau - Hong Kong
Turbo Jet Super Class

The Langham Place
Mongkok

Boy, I wish I’d known Moondog before we started out this trip. A couple of PMs, and life could have been a whole lot smoother...

I thought I had the whole ferry thing sorted. The direct transit from the plane with just a quick stop at the counter to buy the tickets, them claiming our bags and checking them through, us just stepping on board the ferry and not doing another thing until clearing customs at Macau. Sounded like a dream.

Google and Trip Adviser had got me that far. And I was so concerned about the apparent complexity of that leg (which counter? where? within what time frame? what if we take a wrong turn?) I hadn’t given a second thought to the return trip, and that fact that we’d be headed to the city, not back to HKIA.

Which was how we came to be on a ferry to an unknown destination, as we chugged our way across the harbour, away from Macau. I’d queued at one ticket window, to be shuffled to another and then another. It wasn’t until we were headed towards the gate and started to see signs for three different destinations - including HKIA - that I realised we could well be heading all the way back to leg one, square one. Nice. Not.


The blue blob is our ferry. The red one the hotel. On the Kowloon side. Duh.


Luckily, the FGNZ family were well rested, and in a reasonably sanguine frame of mind. All would be forgiven, whatever the outcome. It’s not always easy being the family travel organiser.

Yet again, there was a ‘meal’ on this short, 1 hour service - a sandwich with some sort of unidentifiable luncheon meet inside. The garnish was on the side - a couple of whole tomatoes and, inexplicably, plastic lettuce. I wasn’t sure what it is until Mr FGNZ commented on how nice it was that they’d brightened things up with fake grass.


Sandwich with unidentified pink mousse-like substance. Dessert?


No matter, we weren’t there for the catering.

No wifi on this service (we’d had to have bought Super Premium Whatsit for that), but 15 minutes away from land I got a strong enough cell phone signal to figure out we were headed for Hong Kong Ferry terminal. Not Kowloon, which really would have been the closest, but not HKIA, either.

It took two taxis, with trunks flapping against bungy cords, to get us to the Langham Place, Mongkok.

You may recall that we started out this whole trip with a whole lot of hope in Langham.

Two years ago the 1865 host at the Auckland hotel had got in touch with the exec. Chef in HK, and passed details onto me. I’d never got around to contacting him, but I was reassured that no matter what, we would be able to find people with whom language wasn’t a barrier. We’d heard for years that, because nut allergies are rare in China, chefs and waiting staff neither understand nor care.

In Shanghai, that couldn’t have been further from the truth. It was easily the best destination we’d ever travelled to, from a Ms FGNZ perspective, thanks to the Langham 88 and their detailed translation of our needs, and Serge and his team, who called ahead to restaurants without us even asking to explain.

Our faith in the Langham was well placed.

Somehow (I suspect thanks to Serge), they knew, even before I had a chance to begin the laborious explanation. And it does get old. And exhausting. And mind numbing, year after year. There waiting for us at check-in was a card with Ms FGNZ’s nut allergies detailed in Cantonese.




At that moment, I fell head over heels in love with that hotel chain. All the free bottles of wine and fruit platters, all the little squares of chocolate at check-in, all the early/late check-ins paled next to this one, simple thing. A piece of information had been passed from one property to another, not because I had ticked a box in an online profile or I had the requisite number of stays or qualifying nights or points or whatever, but because somebody cared enough to do it. It blew me away.

I was blown away even further when, upon us sitting down to eat at both Langham Place restaurants, a chef and manager came to our table, gave us their cards, and reassured us that they would do everything they could to make sure Ms FGNZ had a safe and enjoyable meal. At the Easter Sunday buffet lunch, the head chef even walked her around and talked to her about each and every one of the dishes. It was an amazing experience for her, she said. She’s so used to having to approach everything was suspicion, avoiding things because there’s just not enough information, and having an underlying sense of anxiety, that it was a truly novel experience.


Ms FGNZ's personal buffet tour

At the end of the meal, they presented her with this:

Her very own, nut-safe Easter Egg.


Love you, Langham Mongkok!


Enough of my crush on the restaurant staff. Truth is, even without this, we would have fallen in love with the hotel.

We’d secured two Sweet Suites. Secretly, I was dying for an opportunity to book the Mr Lover Lover package, just for the name. But Sweet Suites was cute enough. Plus, the third night was free, and there were those lovely Club Privileges - very generous @ LP, as it turned out.



Like all HK hotel rooms, the ‘suites’ were not overly large. But the living area gave us just the bit more space we needed so that the kids would not kill one another in our final 72 hours. The second toilet was a God send. There was a Nespresso machine. And the rooms were clean, classy and well laid out.



A box of goodies in each rooms, contained an item each for Relax (an eyemask), Refuel (gourmet jelly beans) and Replay (a Rubiks Cube).


Contents disappeared faster than I could say ‘let me get a photo for my trip report’.

An ipod already plugged into the alarm clock/speaker at the side of the bed was loaded up with cruisy night time music. Best of all, were the power adaptors. Already plugged into the wall, without us even having ask. Crazy-good service.

Turn down came with a different ‘treat’ each night - a chocolate the first, a lavender pouch the second, and a sheep the third. Cute as!


I’m a sucker for this stuff

There was also a little note left, each night


I didn’t dare try this in case one of the FGNZ family snuck a photo

Plus, our rooms were a stones throw from the absolutely awesome Club L, on the 36th floor.




View from my favourite Club L spot

The Club was where we had been very efficiently checked in, and where we had all of our interactions throughout our stay. It was also where we had a wonderful breakfast each morning, afternoon tea, and canapes in the evening. There was dessert, as well, at 8 and then something called ‘nightcaps’, but we were either out doing things or past it by then. Judging from the food and service through the rest of the day, I bet they were out of this world. I don’t know what we paid over and above a standard room (again, I had got a really good deal by booking so early), but it would have been worth any difference, based on snacks, coffees, cokes and wine alone.


Champagne and bunny-shaped napkins for Easter Sunday



Obligatory Club Grub shot

We did venture down from the 36th floor from time-to-time, mostly out to the markets. But even walking around the hotel was a pretty cool experience. It has an extensive collection of Chinese Contemporary art, so it seemed that every floor had either statues or paintings.


Beautiful original artwork

By for the most iconic and well known is the huge piece in the lobby - Red Guards - Moving Forward! Making Money! Its companion piece is a collage of photos submitted via a Facebook competitions.




Do you think there’s anything down there? Apart from Chanel, I mean?


Hong Kong was mostly about shopping, especially Ms FGNZ, who turned out to be a demon haggler. Had I known this two months ago, I would have set her loose on the orthodontist as he was presenting us with a quote for her braces to the tune of 4 x economy fares to LAX. Back then, she was a demure 15 year old in a school uniform. On those mean streets of the Ladies Market? A hard-talking, take-no-prisoners, ruthless dealer. If the fashion design world doesn’t work out for her, she has a great career ahead as a hostage negotiator.

One of the best buys the family made - Mast FGNZ, I believe, I might have been resting under a pile of face cream at the time - was a Mah Jong set, which sparked one of my favourite evenings of the whole trip. We were bumbling along with vague internet instructions on my phone, when one of our fellow club guests stepped in and stepped up our game. I think we are now addicts, and may be holding Mah Jong evenings into our autumn years.


It was a crap hand.


The Langham Place Mall, a multi-storey affair jam packed with floor to ceiling brand stores, that had me at ‘hello’. More specifically, Beauty Alley. And if we are to be very precise, the Chanel counter. Cosmetics, it seems, are dirt cheap in HK, even the really cheap ones, because there’s no duty. So I had a massive stock up on creams, lotions, potions and lip-sticks. Enough to keep me highly attractive and wrinkle free until way beyond the next trip.


We were only in HK for 3 nights, but loved every minute of it. We’d be back in a heartbeat. Maybe even for that 20th anniversary trip...

Next stop, though, seats 4 and 5 J and K, that garlic bread and a great sleep, all the way home. I have to finish this TR before the reality of Monday morning strikes, 20 short hours away. So that one will be done and dusted by nightfall. Or your money back...

Flygirlnz

Thanks, worldiswide. Yes, you're right, the tourist dollars help. Just so long as people understand what they're coming to…and it is nice that people still ask, and still care, and still want to know.

Flygirlnz

So here's what we've come to expect of our NZ Business Premier experience.

It’s home, in a funny sort of a way. And always lovely to get on board, after being somewhere else.

Once you’re on board, everything feels familiar. You get a ‘cheers’ when they top up your wine glass. And they’re real, friendly and seem genuinely keen to make sure you have a great experience. In recent years, they’ve even been explicit about thanking us for flying BP. Often I’ll respond ‘yes, but it’s an upgrade’, and they reply ‘it doesn’t matter. You’re supporting us, anyway’.

The food is good. It's definitely not what it used to be, especially back in the hey-day, with convection ovens and really top food. But good.

Mostly, nowadays it really is all about the sleep for me. And the sleep is usually good.

Yummy, soft mattress, a full size, lovely soft pillow and cushion. And because most of these are night flghts, usually enough quiet, with the help of squishy ear plugs, to get a decent few hours of shut-eye.


You have to dress right, though. Especially on the -300, which has some really bad cabin heating/cooling anomalies. I’ve had flights we’re it’s felt like being in a greenhouse up front, but apparently little can be done to resolve it, without freezing the back of the plane to within an inch of their lives. And so I travel multi-layered, with something light and ‘sleep-able’, and seemly enough in the likely event that I kick off my duvet mid flight.

Our expectations for this NZ flight, after the last one, which missed for us, on so many counts, were cautious. We were hoping the food might be more in line with what we were used to. And I was definitely hoping to have an easier time of explaining the whole nut situation to the crew. You really want to feel like they understand 100%, and that nothing gets lost in translation.

First stop, though, the United Club at HKIA, near Gate 60. I really wish I could be more explicit about which bit of the terminal we were in, but getting there was such a maze, I barely knew whether I was standing upright, by the time we arrived.

We had checked in three hours out, without a hitch. No priority immigration cards, and no priority line to be seen. No matter. It was relatively quick and painless. Then the maze began. Concourses, travelators, escalators, signs, trains...it seemed to go on forever, and made me so appreciative of our tiny, manageable little International terminals at home.

The United Club was upstairs on a mezzanine, overlooking a food court, with great views to the tarmac. We saw planes of every kind, and our own plane getting towed over to its gate, around the corner. Luckily, it arrived in one piece. It had been a great 10 days, but I was ready for home, as broken as home is.

The United lounge was actually pretty good. For starters, it was dead quiet. It was just us and a few business-people, traveling alone. There was sushi, a Taco Making Station (kids want to lobby Air NZ for one), club sandwiches and an OK white wine. They gave us a wifi code, but it seemed pretty silly, when the HK AIrport Free WiFi worked just fine.

There were no boarding announcements in the lounge, so we wandered down to the gate around the time we guessed things would be underway - and they were. No lines at the Premier Boarding lane, so we sailed straight on through.

We were given a choice of sparkling wine, juice and water as soon as we sat down, and given a dinner menu. It was lovely to settle in, and know there’d be no more running around until morning. The seats are really comfortable, and there’s gate-to-gate IFE, which is great. There’s nothing better than rolling down the runway with decent music as things get faster and faster, especially at night when you can watch all the lights go by until they’re a blur.

I was able to very quickly get a hold of the list of meal ingredients, and working through the options for Ms FGNZ turned out to be no trouble at all. I could breathe out. That particular major complication was over. I always have her eat in the terminal, before we leave, and warn her there may be nothing but garlic bread and ice-cream for her on the plane. But it’s so much nicer when she can enjoy the meal service.

Our wine came shortly after take off - a Marisco Sauvignon Blanc.

Dinner arrived quickly after that - sadly, the entree was as ho-hum as the one we’d had AKL-PVG. Maybe a bit better, because it was actually edible. But not great. And the salad dressing came in a plastic punnet with a sticker on the lid. Seriously? What did they DO with all that amazing crockery they had for a while, after the -300 launch? Sell it off to help the balance sheet out, pre share offer?


Chicken Entree

Sigh. I really have to get over myself and stop living in the past.

The moment of truth came with the Garlic Bread.

Ms FGNZ had leaned over (the seats are herringboned, so it takes a bit of leaning and contorting to communicate) and asked, sweetly, ‘are you going to eat all yours?’. I gave her the death stare she deserved for asking such a ridiculous question, but I did stop the flight attendant doing ‘bakery’ to ask if Ms FGNZ could please have a little extra, if any was left over.

No problem at all, he responded. We’ve got plenty.

There was no waiting for left-overs. The Garlic Bread appeared on the spot.

Now THAT’S the Business Premier spirit.

The main was OK.


Chicken Thing with Barley. Tomatoes were yummy.

For some sad but probably cost-associated reason, the grapes seem to have disappeared from the cheese platter. I thought it was just a Trans Tasman thing, but no. My platter was bare, aside from the soft cheese, the hard cheese and the crackers.

Ah, the crackers. It really gets me that they only ever give you enough to get through half the cheese, especially since I am not a dessert eater.

But in a magic moment of ‘that’s what I’m talkin’ about’ Air NZ-ness, the Flight Service Manager surprised me by leaning over, dropped a pile on my plate, and saying ‘you look like you need a few more crackers.’

Such a simple thing!

We had a long chat, the FGNZ family and the FSM. He was fantastic. It was a huge reminder that the thing that really creates that Air NZ difference, are the people. I was interested to read in another thread, some people saying they some of them were too familiar.

Not for me. I loved being woken with a ‘Morning, Doll’ by the FSM.

Breakfast was another omelette, this one with sausage inside. But the toast was toasted, this time around. The fruit salad and yogurt was again fresh and good. And the coffee not half bad.

We arrived in Auckland early in the morning, wiped out, despite having had 5 - 6 hours of solid sleep. Might have been something to do with that Marisco and that late night chat.

We were pretty fast through Passport Control, out into the terminal and around the corner to the domestic transfer desk to find this:



And a sign directing us to the Bag Drop
Where we walked straight into this:



Seriously? It was bad enough when they took away the Premium transfer desk. But no transfer desk at all? We had hours in Auckland, who were we going to talk to about getting an earlier flight, without having to lug our bags all the way over to domestic (we have our own maze, but it’s an outdoor one, with a line you can follow lest you get lost between the two terminals. We’re big on the great outdoors here, you know)?

Nobody, it seemed, judging by the look on the bag drop lady’s face. It was very much a case of a bored ‘next ‘as we waited forever in line behind three older women quibbling over what to check and what not to. Well that brought us down to earth with a thump.

I’m over giving feedback and sending emails and filling out surveys. They just don’t seem to get it - that the call centre is all part of it, that the check-in and transfer desk are all part of it. That the bag drop is part of it. That the other airline in the itinerary, booked and tickted via NZ, is part of it. That the Business Class experience doesn’t just start with the Pre Departure Beverage, and doesn’t end with the ‘Nice to see you again, Mrs FGNZ’ at the airbridge. It’s everything, from the moment you start planning the trip, to the second you walk out of that terminal.

Enough already.

We had a wonderful holiday, even with it’s small frustrations, and we’re home.

The dog was so excited to see us, he peed on my feet. The cat bit me on the head. Apparently it’s affectionate. Whatever. I really don’t get cats.

This morning I woke up and realised I still haven’t booked a return leg for our LA trip in September, where we’ve booked a 1 month vacation rental out at the Beach. I’m hoping to tack on a late-birthday long weekend at the Peninsula Beverly Hills. Now THAT will be a trip report worth writing. It’ll be our fourth stay, we just love it there.

So the return remains open. Partly because I can’t work out when to come home (we can work anywhere, so there’s no hard and fast return date) partly because I really don’t want to pay full fare, and there’s no NZ sale on right now, and partly because I’m wondering if there’s something else out there for us, given the cost.

But we’ll probably end up going back ‘home’ to NZ. There’s a familiarity about it that makes it easy. It’s still a lovely experience - just not as lovely as it used to be. And maybe if we hadn’t been there for the hey-day, we’d have nothing to compare it to. There are the people - and so long as those Legacy Crews stick around, they really are something special. And then there’s that Garlic Bread...

patnlcc

Hi flygirlnz, I really enjoyed your report. Just wanted to say I found your comments about the earthquake in Christchurch really touching. Well said indeed.