Verdian Double-Ballo Journey

[Non-NonRev]

(Note: I will edit in flight numbers etc. when I find my stubs).

This trip was a vacation to various cities in Germany and Denmark. The air portion was on a OnePass reward, with the transatlantic and intra-European flights on Air France.

I had originally tried to get on one of the AF nonstops from MIA to CDG, but apparently (and it is a guess) AF does not give CO reward seats on these flights, at least not in L'Espace Premier.

I requested the routing with less than five weeks notice, and CO took my request, saying it could be as much as ten days beforre AF confirmed.

Must have been a slow time, because CO called back the very next afternoon with the following routing:

MIA-DTW-EWR-CDG-HAM-ARNK-CPH-CDG-EWR-MIA

with a waitlist for MIA-EWR nonstop to avoid the visit to DTW.

The waitlisted option cleared ten days later (just after the ticket arrived in the mail), so I went over to the CTO in Sunrise to get the ticket reissued.

Saturday 28 April
Continental ###
MIA-EWR .. Seat 3E
757 /w 16-seat BF Configuration

MIA was its usual fourth-world zoo, with cruise survivors taking up every square foot of sitting and standing space. Check-in and loading were uneventful, and the left turn at the door revealed the BF layout.

Something unusual: Although drink orders were taken very shortly after takeoff, the drinks themselves were not brought to the passengers previous to the meal trays - they were ON the meal trays. Even the Fisher Nuts foil pack was missing - incomplete catering in EWR earlier that morning?

And about that meal - a very friendly FA took the orders, and when it was my turn, she indicated there was one chicken teriyaki left. SOLD!

If only it had been her doing the actual meal service. Instead, another FA served the meals, one I'll call 'THE HARRIDAN' (who exuded the kind of phoniness you'd only expect from a cruise ship maitre'd who, having ignored all during the cruise, was now buttering you up for a tip).

A note: During the order taking, I had heard the person in 4A rather loudly complain because the chicken was no longer available. The order-taking FA took it in stride and was always courteous.

To cut to the chase, the Harridan gave my chicken to Mr. Loud Complainer. She served my seatmate his chicken, then, avoidng eye contact with me, she skipped over me and took a tray with bowl (the chicken) to 4A. I saw this, but of course I just figured that they'd found an extra chicken entree or that someone in Rows One or Two had changed their mind. After serving 4B, 4E and 4F their trays, she went into hiding for about five minutes (the better to rehearse her phoniness, no doubt) then came to me, and without making eye contact, offered an apology that had all the sincerity of OJ Simpson apologizing for trampling the flowers in Nicole's garden, stated "we ran out of chicken, do you want the other one".
I told her in a measured tone, "No, you didn't run out, you gave my entree to 4A". The harridan, I'm sure shocked that she'd been called on her deception, immediately
turned and walked back to the galey. Never brought my Diet Dr. Pepper, either. I ended up having to go to coach to get my drink. Never bothered to pick up my empty plastic cup (don't even fathom that she'd replace it with a glass tumbler, besides, I don't like even the CHANCE of spit in my soft drinks, and yes it does happen).

So much for that minor tragedy. The flight arrived a little early, but that time was lost waiting for the jetway operator.

I have to state that this is very rare beahviour for CO's FAs. Even the no-personality ones or the ones having a bad day are at least perfunctory. No, I hope the Harridan really thinks about a new career, or at least that she doesn't work many FLL routes, my home airport which wasn't an option on this trip.

[This message has been edited by Non-NonRev (edited 06-02-2001).]

[Non-NonRev]

I had carried on my two bags in MIA, but decided to check them thru to HAM. I found the AF check in area, opposite the Gates 70-99 security checkpoint on the ticketing level. There were separate lines for L'Espace Premier and L'Espace Affaires, but the "line monitor" was letting the lines blend. No problem, however, as they moved fast and I was soon given my BPs for both EWR-CDG and CDG-HAM.

The agent checking me in had apparently cut his finger on the previous passenger's bag, but he didn't stop to get a band-aid. I did look at the bag tag and double checked just to be sure he hadn't been distracted (it wasn't anything serious, more like a big paper cut, sometimes those hurt a lot).

The agent didn't offer a lounge invitation, maybe he was hurting, or was it that award tickets aren't supposed to get it? so i decided to do a little test, knowing that I could pull out the trusty Pres Club card if denied.

Sincer the departure gate was 122, I headed over to the C3 Pres Club, walking left to the AF desk on the left side. The agent, somewhat older lady, pleasant if not bubbly, looket at my BP, sort of mumbled "Ah, 2B, yes yes", then let me know that she'd be making a boarding announcement at a specific time.

Boarding was at the appointed time at Gate 122, I was delayed because the newsstand didn't have SI and there was an article about the NFL draft I wanted to read (and I knew that when I returned, that issue would have been superceded by the next week's issue. So back through the construction maze to the C2 concourse newsstand where a copy was waiting for me.

April 28 2001
Air France 4 EWR-CDG
747-400 Seat 2B in L'Espace Premier

The FAs guarding the left aisle suddenly became less foreboding when they say where my seat assignment was. They moved aside, if not with a flourish at least with a smile, and soon I was at my seat. Plenty of storage space for everything, including all the goodies that soon arrived, including the multi-pocket amenity kit and the "sleepy suit" a set with pocket long-sleeve top and pants (one was tan, one red, I can't remember which". Not heavy sweats like Virgin Upper but nicer than t-shirt weight.

As we neared takeoff, Mumms Millenium champagne was served (in glass, no plastic was used anywhere on the flight). It became apparent that I would be only one of two passengers in the 12-seat cabin. Pushback was exactly on time, and after about 10 planes in line, we were off.

The other passenger was apparently into maximizin his sleep time, as he changed ino his sleepy suit right away; after a beverage, he asked for his duvet. He laid the duvet down ob his seat, reclined to the 180 flat position, put the blanket over him, buckled the seatbelt around, and was entering dreamland just as the attendant came to me and asked, "Would you like caviar, sir"?

[This message has been edited by Non-NonRev (edited 06-02-2001).]

[Non-NonRev]

The caviar was an individual jar of Osetra from "The Caviar Store", the same vendor who has caviar/gourmet stores in many airports. Rather than blinis, the FA brought a basket of different breads, then went back and toasted my selecion. The appetizer was a nice-sized medallion of foie gras. Only two selections for entree - the "seasonal" entree was a salmon preparation, so I went for the filet, which was labeled on the menu as "origin U.S.A." (I'm sure the Beef Council advertising cooperative will be happy about that one)! The perfectly cooked filet was accompanied by the usual potato and veggie side dishes. I didn't try the cheese (a plate with four different types), but did manage to find room for the dessert, a classic chocolate gateau.

None of the movies were especially appealing, so after reading a bit (Sondheim: A Life, by Meryl Secrest, a very well-written bio of arguably the most important American musical talent of the 20th century) I went to change into my sleepy suit. When I returned, the FA was waiting with my duvet. After reclining the chair to the 180 position, I copied the other guy and put the duvet down like a mini-mattress. As I buckled the seatbelt over my blanket, the purser approached and asked if I'd like to be awakened for breakfast, and when I said yes, she asked how soon before landing - we agreed on 45 minutes before (nice touch - I've never been given that choice before). Within five minutes, I (notorious for not being able to sleep well on planes) was out like a light, and had about 3.5 hours of the most restful sleep. Next thing I knew, it was the appointed time, and the breakfast of very fresh fruit, yougurt, and what I think were fresh-baked croissants and breakfast breads was served; aromatic Earl Grey tea from Fauchon accompanied. After changing back to the regular clothes, we landed about 10 minutes early.

Within another 5-10 minutes (aided by the fact that the FAs blocked the exit and let the other L'Espace Premier gentelman and myself exit before any of the L'Espace Affaires people) I had cleared immigration (a one-second look at the passport and no stamp) and was on my way across the road to Terminal 2F for my connecting flight.

[This message has been edited by Non-NonRev (edited 06-02-2001).]

[Non-NonRev]

It was a very short stroll to the 2D departure gate - many of the shops and snack bars were already open, nice for a Sunday morning at 06:30 (I passed any number of ATMs as well).

After picking up a magazine I headed for the departure gate, D64, where boarding (via bus) for our flight started right on schedule - our aircraft was at the farthest end of the perimiter parking area. After a short wait while an obstructing catering truck from the neighboring 737 was moved, we were able to board.

AF 1410(?) 0730-0900
737-500

The load was light, maybe just under 50% in both cabins. As most of you probably know, the business cabin has the same seats as in the economy cabin (3 + 3), but the middle-seat has a fold-down that gives more armroom.

An all-guys crew (friendly but a bit sleepy-slow) probably got everyone situated and passed newspapers out (Friday's IHT and FT for us non-Francophones). Takeoff again right on time, and once at altitide, our FA breakfast trays came - it was almost a repeat of the transatlantic breakfast, and just as good (breads again very fresh). OJ and water on the tray. A total of four passes for drinks were made on this short flight - one with the full drinks cart, then the first coffee-tea pass, then two "refill" passes for the latter drinks.

We made a nice graceful curve on the approach to Fuhlsbuttel, and touched down about 3 minutes early. Bags were up in a reasonable time (mine around the 10th and 15th, the AF person had put small bright-green Priority tabs on them in EWR). No passport control (Schengen), so out by 9:15 or so.

I wanted to check out the Diners Club Lounge (I knew from the website it would be closed, but I wanted to see where it was as I'd be using it in a few days on departure). It was somthing of a maze, but I located it, one one of the upper floors looking out to the high-roof expanse of busy Terminal 4.

I thought I'd call my hotel to see if they had my room ready, but on the way back from the restroom I spotted an internet cafe nestled in the space between Terminals 4 and 3. I spent some time there - it was about 12 DEM (less than USD 6) for an hour on machines with very fast connections and (best of all) huge 21" monitors set into cool-looking blue globes. A nice snack-bar on the right side had sandwiches, pastries and hot and cold drinks at relatively reasonable prices.

The only bad thing was the omnipresent cigarette smoke (but knowing that this a fact of life in Europe, a visitor learns to deal with it - there so many great things I love about Europe that it's not a great imposition to put up with a few days of assult-by-secondary-smoke).

[This message has been edited by Non-NonRev (edited 06-02-2001).]

[Non-NonRev]

There's a fairly easy bus-to-U-Bahn connection to the center of Hamburg from the airport, but because I was getting a little lagged, I decided to cab it in. The fare to the Marriott (reward stay) was about 35 DEM before the tip, not too bad compared to other cities.

The Marriott looks to be a modern re-do of an older building, very centrally located on the ABC Strasse equidistant (2 blocks) from the Inner Alster and the Staatsoper on Damtorstrasse. The very pleasant clerk found my pre-assigned room (n/s king as requested) and handed me my key in no time (the other customers around me all seemed to be American).

The room featured typical Marriott design and size, with a nice streetside window, as opposed to the very plain "courtyard" overlook I had seen out of the elevator lobby and hallway windows. The windows did a good job of keeping out any street noise, and with the thought in mind that I would be going out that night, (and already having done the touristy stuff on previous visits) I declared naptime. No milk and graham crackers, alas.

I went over to the Staatsoper's Abendkasse, where the friendly ticket agent found me a 8th row orchestra seat for the ridiculously low price of DEM 115 (about 53 USD); a comaprable seat at the Met or Lyric of Chicago or SF Opera would have cost 3 to 4 times that (that's what you get when an enlightened society cares about the arts, but that's a matter for another post (and another board for that matter)).

The Staatsoper, opened in about 1956, is a handsome if somewhat severe building whose long narrow windows look out on Dammtorstrasse (no fancy plaza or anything). The auditorium, in a muted red-gold scheme, seats about 1600, less than half of what the cattle barn-sized houses in the US seat. Combined with the Staatsoper's fine acoustics, the result is that singers who don't possess mammoth voices can easily be heard and can meaningfully interact with the audience, a situation very different from the gigantic zepplin hanger spaces found in the US.

2001 marks the 100th observance of the death of Giuseppe Verdi, and opera houses all over the world have been programming Joe Green's works like they were going out of style. This new production of Un Ballo in Maschera ("A Masked Ball"), which had opened only three weeks earlier, was quite conservative (the Hamburg house has quite a reputation for startlingly updated, Personenregie-laden "concept" productions). 'Ballo' is based on the real-life assasination of King Gustav of Sweden in 1792 - Verdi and his libettist added a fictitious "love triangle" plot for dramatic effect. Verdi wrote this piece when he was living and working in Paris, so there are echos from Gounoud and even Offenbach, mixed in with bel-canto and Verdi's unique musical influences.

The performance, within its scrubbed-wood unit set, was music-driven. Not quite stand-and-deliver, better than a concert-in-costume, but still somewhat static. The night's honors went to local coloratura diva Hellen Kwon, who delivered an inspired Oscar, and to the orchestra, who played their hearts out under the driving baton of Massimo Zanetti. Oh, and the trick to surviving intermission is to go up one level to the terrace lobby, which is blissfully non-smoking; the street-level lobby is akin to a cigarette factory testing area.

After the performance, I walked the two blocks over to the Vier Jahreseiten hotel, where there is a branch of the Asian-themed restaurant Doc Chengs (which I had discovered on a previous trip). Since they serve relatively late, I had a teriffic spicy-coconut soup laces with prawn, scallop and green onion, followed by an ostrich steak with a teriffic black plum sauce (the waitress stated that they would only serve it medium or more cooked, but it came out halfway betwen med. rare and medium, which ended up being just right). My tummy filled, I walked back through the lightly-misty night back to the hotel.

[This message has been edited by Non-NonRev (edited 06-02-2001).]

[Non-NonRev]

The next morning (a Monday) was spent walking around the shopping areas and the Inner Alster area. When it was time go go get the rental car, I took the U-1 (or was it 2) to the Ohlsdorf station, where a bus waited across the street to take us the remaining couple of miles to the airport. The bus stops right at the central exit from terminal 4 (lowwer/arrivals level). I would say this bus is suitable for light luggage, but the bus-to train transfer (and a LOT of construction obstacles in the Ohlsdorf station itself) might not make this the best choice if you are laden with a great deal of luggage.

After spending a bit more time in that conveinent internet cafe, I went over to Avis (Pref Select) and found my automatic transmission (ok, I know I'm a wimp) car preassigned - my standard automatic had been upgraded to a premium class, a Merc E-Class 2.0 Diesel with all of 14 km on the odomoter. Cobalt roof with sunroof (I looked at the registration papers in the glovebox and discovered that they had put it in service that very morning).

But this fact resulted in the only negative thing - they forgot to enter the security code into the radio. I didn't discover this until later, and although the staff at the renting location tried to get the code, they were never successful in getting it and I tried to decipher the owner's manual, to no avail (the young lady who checked me back in took DEM 50,- off the rental without my having to ask - I thought that was very fair).

Now having my wheels, I explored the Altona and other neighborhoods a bit. I had a ticket for that night's performance of Thomas Ades' modern chamber opera Powder Her Face, based on the true story of the Dutchess of Argyll, who was involved in a very messy public divorce case in the UK in the '60s (pictures were shown in court of her performing 'a la Nancy Davis'). But because the performance was auf Deutsch, a great disadvantage to a non-fluent person in this text driven piece, and even though an on-stage fellatio scene would normally have made my attendance a sure thing, I decided to eat my USD 13 ticket and insetad retired to the hotel.


[This message has been edited by Non-NonRev (edited 06-04-2001).]

[Non-NonRev]

I awoke on Tuesday to news on CNN concerning May Day riots in Berlin, my next destination. But, they also said that they though the "activity" would be over by the early afternoon. So, finding everything around the hotel closed, I skipped breakfast and loaded up the car. It took a while to get to the entrance to the "Bundesautobahn" but once there it was clear sailing to Berlin.

Driving the autobahns is a joy to us Americans who hate the artifically low speed limits imposed (on even the most well-engineered Interstate highways in wide open areas) and what a pleasure to drive amongst motorists who know and obey the basic rules of the road (in South Florida the preceeding concept is the biggest joke in the world). The only thing that's a little tricky are the construction zones - they crank the speed down to either 80 or 60 km, but use temporary barriers to make two extermely narrow lanes, instead of one (i'm guessing this is to allow seat-of-the-pants passing of slower-moving trucks and busses).

Even with stops for water and, well you know, I was soon in the Berlin area. As I exited the freeway onto the city streets in the early afternoon, I looked around nervously for signs of protests, but it soon became apparent that CNN had been correct in its assesment of the end of the protests.

So down the road (not sure of the name) that goes directly through the park (traffic circle with big black column with gilded angel on top) and lo and behold, a fake Brandenburg Gate! Turns out the Gate is undergoing further restoration, and Deutsche Telekom has covered it in a 'tromp l'oeil' pictorial scaffolding that has a picture of the gate columns in the appropriate spaces!

[onedog]

Great trip report so far.

Thanks for the details and observations.

[Non-NonRev]

I knew that having only a few free hours in Berlin would hinder any in-depth sightseeing, so I conducted a quick "get lost on purpose" driving tour of different parts of the city. So while not entering the various edifices, I still saw some pretty amazing sights - the Reichstag with its grand new glass dome, the government buldings around the Pariser Platz, including the just-about-to-open Chancellery, apparent the former Chancellor Kohl's monument to himself and which the present leader Schroeder hates; the truly amazing assemby of architectural masterpieces (Renzo Piano et al) at the Potsdamer Platz, so radically changed from a few years back when "a wall ran through it", the stately pre-war buildings of the Unter den Linden giving way to massive Stalinist blocks (and construction sites where many are being torn down - the joke about the construction crane being the state bird of Berlin is quite true).

Back in the west side, the contrast of areas long rebuilt, and for me personally, the sobering sight of the Deutsche Oper Berlin, where 11 days before a great conductor, Giuseppe Sinopoli, had literally fallen dead on the podium of a heart attack while conducting the Nile Scene of Verdi's Aida at the too-young age of 54.

My mini-tour over, I headed back through the Brandenburg Gate to my hotel, the Four Seasons. Usually hotels of this caliber are not in the Non-NonRev budget, but I decided to splurge (after all the flights were free) and the location, two blocks from the Staatsoper, meant no frenzied search for a parking place.

The FS, opened about four years ago, is usually rated as the best hotel in Germany and one of the best in Europe. I have to say that I found nothing in my too-short stay to go against that ranking. Every aspect of my stay was like being cossetted in a well-oiled, supremely comfortable mechanism. But, don't get me wrong - the genuine warmth of the staff, striking just the perfect balance of formality and genuine welcome, was superb.

My room was in muted green and yellow tones, very comfortably furnished in a "luxurious but not too frou-frou" manner (I have a low-frou tolerance) . Looking out from the seventh of the eight floors, the windows opened up to a step-out balcony that offered a beautiful angled view of the Gendarmenmarkt Square, with its stunning twin churches, the domed French and German cathrdrals (with the classic portico'ed Konzerthaus in between them). And the window/doors had an ingenious design: turn the handle one direction, and the window would tilt for ventillation - close, then turn the handle the opposite direction, and a different set of hinges engaged, turning the full length of the glass into a fully-opening door! Very slick!

The room service menu was very moderately priced for a hotel of this caliber (either that or the DEM was weaker than before) so a bowl of extremely good french onion soup made for a perfect pre-performance snack. The bath was almost as big as the room, with separate shower and soaking tub (deep but not as long as the ones in the Regent Wall Street). But a call to the concierge confirmed that the start time was 19:00 NOT 19:30 like I thought, so that tub would have to wait.

[This message has been edited by Non-NonRev (edited 06-04-2001).]

[Non-NonRev]

One of the really great things the Internet has brought about is a teriffic simplification of ordering tickets to performances (and this goes for non-classical and sports performances as well). After viewing schedule and cast information on the Deutsche Staatsoper's detailed (and multi-lingual) website, I e-mailed the box office to ask about ticket availability for the May 1 performance of Falstaff. The next day I received a reply confirming a hold on a sixth-row orchestra seat with the proviso to send payment info within ten days to turn the "hold" into a purchase. The whole send and reply process of the e-mails took no more than two minutes in the comfort of my home - very nice!

Running late as usual, I arrived at the classical Staatsoper, which is right on the Unter den Linden, and went to the box office where my DEM 125 (less than USD 54) ticket was waiting. And the price for an exquisite little bound program book, with reproductions of art pertinent to the story of the old knight Falstaff was an unbelievable 12 DEM. I almost felt I should pay more .... almost

Falstaff is based on portions of several of Shakespeare's works, concentrting on an incident in the life of old fat knight when he tries to woo several wealthy beauties in the town, hoping their money will help him settle his ever-growing bill at the local tavern. Falstaff was Verdi's last work, a brilliant culmination of his life's work in which individual arias were supplanted by the most glittering ensembles. The opera, which blends lots of comedy (but never over the top) with a little pathos and with romance, ends with entire cast lined up stage-front reminding the audience members that "life is all a comedy". Falstaff gets his comeuppance, but you have to think he'll be back out there trying out his courting skills before too long.

Italian basso Ruggerio Raimondi gave a tour-de-force performance in the title role, but always wholly involved in the ensembles. Underrated Canadian soprano Adrienne Pieczonka shimmered as Mrs. Alice Ford, one of Falstaff's near-victims.

But the truly stupendous performance was given by the Polish contralto Ewa Podles as Mrs. Quickly (who sets up Falstaff for his eventual fall). There is no more to say than this is one of the great voices of our time. Chills went down your spine as this wondrous sound poured out, and lest you think she wass static, she proved quite adept an actress as well. An amusing note was noticing that the distinguished looking gentleman sitting next to me gripping his wife's hand everytime Podles sang, as if to say, listen to THAT!

The only bad part of travelling alone is that, after a great experience like this, you only have yourself to share it with. It was warm enough to dispense with the coat I had brought, so I walked up to the Aldon Hotel at the Pariser Platz, thinking about all of the important historical events that had occurred on these very steets, then back around to the twin cathedrals in their spot-lighted glory, then back to the hotel where the soft comfort of the plush duvet was a perfect complement to my glowing inner spirit.

[This message has been edited by Non-NonRev (edited 06-05-2001).]

[Non-NonRev]

Wednesday morning, May 2, started as a glorious blue-sky day, with the promise of temperatures up to 25-26 C (up to 78 F) later in the day. I overslept a bit, because when I had returned to the hotel the previous evening, I ordered a snack of gnocci, which brought a serving so humungous I couldn't finish even half! As I ate, I turned on the TV and found that RAI-2 from Italy was playing a special celebration of Luciano Pavoratti's debut in his home town of Modena 40 years before, so of course I'd stayed up late into the night watching that!

So I did indulge in that soaking tub and finally packed up to depart. I noticed that the room service menu had some picnic boxes on it, so I skipped breakfast and askes room service to pack a lunch for one. When I checked out, I went outside to find the doorman washing my windshield, to prepare for the next drive. The room service waiter delivered my bag curbside, and off I went.

Before I got onto the Autobahn to Dresden, I made a slight detour and took a close look at the Olympiastadion, which apparently was undamaged in WWII and is still in use. Although there was no access (construction was in progress, adding a partial roof covering and other things), the view from the perimeter (especially from the main entrance with its twin towers with the Olympic rings suspended between them was awe-inspiring, especially thinking about the great victories of Jesse Owens and his teammates. Right up against the gate, at the (closed) ticket office, there was a small seating chart, and on one side, at midfield, was a seating section labeled "Tribune" and I got chills thnking this must have been where Hitler himself must have sat.

The E-Class 2.0 moved flawlessly down the Autobahn to Dresden - the lack of any major construction allowed average speeds of 140-200 Km ( 87.5 to 125 mph) all the way down. When I stopped to eat my lunch, I discovered that the FS had (for about USD 16) packed enough food for a small group. Five sandwich halves, three pieces of fruit, yogurt, a oiece of cheese, juice and two bottles of Evian! I ended up having half of this later in my hotel!

Wending my way towards the center city, the first view of the center city was literally breathtaking - I almost missed my turn for the bridge across the river! It's no use for me to try to put into words the mixture of emotions I felt at looking at the many soot-covered buildings and statues, the juxtaposition of buildings in the midst of rebuilding, the gilt of restored decorative angels against the scaffolding of the neighboring Frauenkirche, not even beginning to be able to imagine what Dresdeners went through on those teribble nights in 1945. A truly sobering sight and experience that will stay with me for a long time.

But the city is a working, vibrant center of activity, and nowhere more than in the central area where the splendid Semperoper and the Zwinger palace/museum sit. Across the street was my hotel for the night, the Kempinski Tsauchenbergpalais, opened a few years ago in a restored building that was originally built in 1707-1711 and served for many years as the palace of the Crown Prince.

The check-in reception was again gracious and I was soon in my pre-assigned room, which had a rectangular layout that provided three windows looking out directly at the Royal Palace and, to the left, a spendid view of the Semperoper and a section of the Zwinger.


[This message has been edited by Non-NonRev (edited 06-07-2001).]