Possibly the least informative trip report for EK F. But it's my first one...
Jul 7, 2017, 3:23 pm
#17
Original Poster
Join Date: May 2017
Location: London
Programs: EK, Virgin Atlantic, SPG
Posts: 11
The Emirates Lounge at Narita
EK has one flight a day from Narita. So I cannot help but wonder exactly how cost efficient it is to run their own lounge here. I would be perfectly content with access to the JL F lounge like in Haneda. I actually don’t understand why the JL lounges have fairly poor reviews on FT. I think they are stylish, quiet, with polite service and decent quality food. No, they are not as extravagant as the EK or EY flagship lounge, and they don’t offer a restaurant service. Is it just me that thinks we should all come to our senses, take a good long look at ourselves and repent the sin of simply expecting free restaurants in lounges? Or is this me just being a lowly peasant again? I suppose, expectancy is expected from the sorts of people who fly first class. Fine, then here's a thought to get through the below-average JL lounge: why not be adaptable and think optimistically - they are doing you a favour to save your appetite on board (not that it really works for me, because I devour multiple helpings of the curry rice with mayonnaise and am bursting by the time I finish with the Arabic Mezze on EK or the Kaiseki service on JL somewhere on top of one of the Koreas - let's hope the pilot chose the right one to fly over, and we don't become a target practice for their rather unusually explosive rockets). Bottom line is, it may not be the best in the world but I think it’s perfectly functional and tailored to the airline. And I haven’t even mentioned how cool the RED room is (the first time I was in the RED room I almost missed my flight, because I ended up being mesmerised and having my inner teenage curiosity tingled, similar to how the children of the Swallows and Amazons must have felt when holidaying in the Lake District. And then I played many games of table football with the John Lobb shoe shiner).
Nevertheless, I got to experience an EK lounge which not very many reviews have been written about. I quickly found the elevator to the lounge – it was located literally 10m away from the immigration desks. I was invited in and I took a seat near the dining area.
Although the front desk was manned by EK employees, the waiters and waitresses inside were contract employees of the airport who were not wearing the EK uniforms. Shame, really, because I personally think the EK uniforms are beautiful (any cosplay fans out there wanting to try them on?). I guess it's a good thing for the employees here to not wear the EK uniforms - they just saved themselves from the longing eyes of a forever lonely human being with a thing for EK uniforms. Again, I thought this was good for a business class lounge and comfortable for a first class lounge. The food and drink spread were almost identical to the lounge at LHR, save the couple of drinks (green tea, C.C. Lemon) and the freshly made tempura, which is the selling point of this lounge. However, when I bit into the lotus root tempura, a wad of unfried batter was stuck in every hole, and quickly consumed the moisture from my mouth as though I killed its long-lost mother (which may be true, actually, considering how many lotus roots I have eaten in my life. It is a staple food item in Japanese cuisine). If you are that desperate for tempura before departing the land of the rising batter, go to any soba shop before or after immigration and order a ‘tenzaru’ – EK tempura is just not worth it, much like how it is not worth fighting over whether the Mirror or the Sun is a better paper. Other than this fried ordeal, the experience was exactly like it was at Heathrow. There is, however, no direct lounge boarding.
NRT-DXB
I made my way to the boarding gate because I got bored. Priority boarding was called 5 minutes after I had arrived, and since most premium passengers were still in the lounge, I was quite literally the first one on board.
I was greeted by the purser, who spoke a much unexpected set of words to me.
‘Welcome back Mr Fukki, my cabin crew and myself are here literally for your personal assistance. If there is anything, and I mean anything you need, please let us know. We are all here just for you’
There you go. I have been on many first class flights on many airlines in the past, but this was the first time I had the whole cabin and the crew to myself. Because I was the first aboard and the only one in F, all the pre take-off formalities were done quicker than you could say service. I was already changed, looked through the menu, booked my shower, had my date and Arabic coffee, and sipping on an orange juice before economy class even started to board. I got bored and fell asleep.
It has only been a couple of months since they reintroduced the A380 on the Narita route, so I was expecting a ‘newer’ service, like having an up-to-date first class product, or having more Japanese crew on board, or having more food options (oh the entitlement and the first world-ery of these mentions). But this was just a very average EK F experience (which isn’t really ‘average’ in the bigger picture, given that it is in fact first class, but you know, if it’s EK, you think they can do more and more in terms of bling and glamour). The crew were reactive rather than proactive, which may be due to the fact I was the only passenger and also it is impossible to stare intently at every seat when there are 14 of them and are closed suites. I much prefer proactive service, because, being inherently Japanese and constantly thinking about how much trouble I cause other people, I always feel uncomfortable asking flight attendants to do things for me. The fact that I feel I need to bow and apologise whenever I make a request may be a testament to the quality and quantity of the first-classness within me, but I do prefer it if they would ask me if I needed anything every five minutes rather than I have to ask them when I need something.
But moping about the crew mentality isn’t going to get me any service. I woke up during take-off, and when we reached cruising altitude I used all the communication skills I had and asked to have dinner. Now, the ‘special’ thing about a NRT-DXB flight is that you can order a Japanese Kaiseki menu. The HND-DXB only has an abbreviated service because it leaves after midnight; the same for the DXB-NRT flight. I have tried the Kaiseki service on the DXB-HND leg before; it wasn’t very good (but it wasn’t bad. In fact it tasted OK. It just wasn’t very ‘Japanese’, like offering fried crabsticks, or sweetcorn rice. Just because you use soy sauce or rice does not make it Japanese, although it might make it Japanese-y and may even fool the Westerner's tongue), and I reasoned it must be because it was cooked and loaded in Dubai and it would be much better if it is loaded in Japan (on JAL or ANA, I find that the Japanese dinner is far superior originating from Japan rather than from abroad). EK have yet to truly disappoint me with a meal (there have been ups and downs, of course, but no meal on EK has been inedible. I have experienced inedible first/business class meals on BA, KE, KLM…, the list goes on). Clearly having not learnt the lesson from my LHR-DXB leg, I ordered alcohol too, and since I was having the Kaiseki, I ordered some sake served in a tokkuri. And I tucked into my dinner with great expectations.
I guess there is a first for everything, and no airline is perfect. Frankly, there was a significant drop in quality originating in Japan. The presentation was acceptable in business class standards, and the taste was acceptable in cargo class standards. And who in the whole wide world would have thought that a fruit plate would classify as ‘Japanese sweet’? I have eaten many a variation of 'Japanese food' during my tenure in the UK; from a red pepper imitating tuna on a sushi, to tonkatsu and a fried egg on a bowl of ramen made with Chinese egg noodles, but at least they all included some sort of Japanese cuisine. Cutting up fruit and serving it on a plate is about as Japanese as not bowing after every sentence and not being crazy about kawaii stuff. I should have stuck with caviar and mezze. Of course, I am too much of a chicken to say anything of the sort, so I bit the bullet and ate all of it. I would rather my tongue suffer quietly than suffer the nerves of talking with another human being.
I then asked for my bed to be made, and I went to brush my teeth to rid my mouth of the dinner. I came back, tucked myself into bed, and had a sound snooze.
I woke up about 2 hours before landing, and I ordered some breakfast.
The yoghurt and the bread basket were phenomenal. I adore the bread and butter that EK uses. I want an EK bakery near where I live. Quite honestly, I prefer it to some insignificant brand called Maison Kayser that JAL seem to rave about. So how is it that EK can do croissants so well yet fail so miserably at some flapjacks? Flapjacks should only be made of oats, butter, sugar and syrup (+/- vanilla, cinnamon flavourings etc). There should be absolutely no room for wheat. Why on earth did my ‘flapjacks’ taste like a humongous version of the blinis you get served with caviar? The compote was lovely, but I could not eat more than a few bites of the blijacks. They even tasted worse than anything on the Kaiseki course, which a couple of hours ago I thought was a feat impossible to achieve.
At least the shower was better. The water rose to more than 5cm when turned upside down! Otherwise it was a pretty standard in-flight shower (I understand the whole concept of an in-flight shower is not very standard, but it’s important to demonstrate flexibility when flying EK).
Moments after my shower, we were ready for landing, and we arrived in Dubai pretty much on time.
‘The temperature outside is a warm 37 degrees…’
‘Warm’, to say the least…
EK has one flight a day from Narita. So I cannot help but wonder exactly how cost efficient it is to run their own lounge here. I would be perfectly content with access to the JL F lounge like in Haneda. I actually don’t understand why the JL lounges have fairly poor reviews on FT. I think they are stylish, quiet, with polite service and decent quality food. No, they are not as extravagant as the EK or EY flagship lounge, and they don’t offer a restaurant service. Is it just me that thinks we should all come to our senses, take a good long look at ourselves and repent the sin of simply expecting free restaurants in lounges? Or is this me just being a lowly peasant again? I suppose, expectancy is expected from the sorts of people who fly first class. Fine, then here's a thought to get through the below-average JL lounge: why not be adaptable and think optimistically - they are doing you a favour to save your appetite on board (not that it really works for me, because I devour multiple helpings of the curry rice with mayonnaise and am bursting by the time I finish with the Arabic Mezze on EK or the Kaiseki service on JL somewhere on top of one of the Koreas - let's hope the pilot chose the right one to fly over, and we don't become a target practice for their rather unusually explosive rockets). Bottom line is, it may not be the best in the world but I think it’s perfectly functional and tailored to the airline. And I haven’t even mentioned how cool the RED room is (the first time I was in the RED room I almost missed my flight, because I ended up being mesmerised and having my inner teenage curiosity tingled, similar to how the children of the Swallows and Amazons must have felt when holidaying in the Lake District. And then I played many games of table football with the John Lobb shoe shiner).
Nevertheless, I got to experience an EK lounge which not very many reviews have been written about. I quickly found the elevator to the lounge – it was located literally 10m away from the immigration desks. I was invited in and I took a seat near the dining area.
Although the front desk was manned by EK employees, the waiters and waitresses inside were contract employees of the airport who were not wearing the EK uniforms. Shame, really, because I personally think the EK uniforms are beautiful (any cosplay fans out there wanting to try them on?). I guess it's a good thing for the employees here to not wear the EK uniforms - they just saved themselves from the longing eyes of a forever lonely human being with a thing for EK uniforms. Again, I thought this was good for a business class lounge and comfortable for a first class lounge. The food and drink spread were almost identical to the lounge at LHR, save the couple of drinks (green tea, C.C. Lemon) and the freshly made tempura, which is the selling point of this lounge. However, when I bit into the lotus root tempura, a wad of unfried batter was stuck in every hole, and quickly consumed the moisture from my mouth as though I killed its long-lost mother (which may be true, actually, considering how many lotus roots I have eaten in my life. It is a staple food item in Japanese cuisine). If you are that desperate for tempura before departing the land of the rising batter, go to any soba shop before or after immigration and order a ‘tenzaru’ – EK tempura is just not worth it, much like how it is not worth fighting over whether the Mirror or the Sun is a better paper. Other than this fried ordeal, the experience was exactly like it was at Heathrow. There is, however, no direct lounge boarding.
NRT-DXB
I made my way to the boarding gate because I got bored. Priority boarding was called 5 minutes after I had arrived, and since most premium passengers were still in the lounge, I was quite literally the first one on board.
I was greeted by the purser, who spoke a much unexpected set of words to me.
‘Welcome back Mr Fukki, my cabin crew and myself are here literally for your personal assistance. If there is anything, and I mean anything you need, please let us know. We are all here just for you’
There you go. I have been on many first class flights on many airlines in the past, but this was the first time I had the whole cabin and the crew to myself. Because I was the first aboard and the only one in F, all the pre take-off formalities were done quicker than you could say service. I was already changed, looked through the menu, booked my shower, had my date and Arabic coffee, and sipping on an orange juice before economy class even started to board. I got bored and fell asleep.
It has only been a couple of months since they reintroduced the A380 on the Narita route, so I was expecting a ‘newer’ service, like having an up-to-date first class product, or having more Japanese crew on board, or having more food options (oh the entitlement and the first world-ery of these mentions). But this was just a very average EK F experience (which isn’t really ‘average’ in the bigger picture, given that it is in fact first class, but you know, if it’s EK, you think they can do more and more in terms of bling and glamour). The crew were reactive rather than proactive, which may be due to the fact I was the only passenger and also it is impossible to stare intently at every seat when there are 14 of them and are closed suites. I much prefer proactive service, because, being inherently Japanese and constantly thinking about how much trouble I cause other people, I always feel uncomfortable asking flight attendants to do things for me. The fact that I feel I need to bow and apologise whenever I make a request may be a testament to the quality and quantity of the first-classness within me, but I do prefer it if they would ask me if I needed anything every five minutes rather than I have to ask them when I need something.
But moping about the crew mentality isn’t going to get me any service. I woke up during take-off, and when we reached cruising altitude I used all the communication skills I had and asked to have dinner. Now, the ‘special’ thing about a NRT-DXB flight is that you can order a Japanese Kaiseki menu. The HND-DXB only has an abbreviated service because it leaves after midnight; the same for the DXB-NRT flight. I have tried the Kaiseki service on the DXB-HND leg before; it wasn’t very good (but it wasn’t bad. In fact it tasted OK. It just wasn’t very ‘Japanese’, like offering fried crabsticks, or sweetcorn rice. Just because you use soy sauce or rice does not make it Japanese, although it might make it Japanese-y and may even fool the Westerner's tongue), and I reasoned it must be because it was cooked and loaded in Dubai and it would be much better if it is loaded in Japan (on JAL or ANA, I find that the Japanese dinner is far superior originating from Japan rather than from abroad). EK have yet to truly disappoint me with a meal (there have been ups and downs, of course, but no meal on EK has been inedible. I have experienced inedible first/business class meals on BA, KE, KLM…, the list goes on). Clearly having not learnt the lesson from my LHR-DXB leg, I ordered alcohol too, and since I was having the Kaiseki, I ordered some sake served in a tokkuri. And I tucked into my dinner with great expectations.
I guess there is a first for everything, and no airline is perfect. Frankly, there was a significant drop in quality originating in Japan. The presentation was acceptable in business class standards, and the taste was acceptable in cargo class standards. And who in the whole wide world would have thought that a fruit plate would classify as ‘Japanese sweet’? I have eaten many a variation of 'Japanese food' during my tenure in the UK; from a red pepper imitating tuna on a sushi, to tonkatsu and a fried egg on a bowl of ramen made with Chinese egg noodles, but at least they all included some sort of Japanese cuisine. Cutting up fruit and serving it on a plate is about as Japanese as not bowing after every sentence and not being crazy about kawaii stuff. I should have stuck with caviar and mezze. Of course, I am too much of a chicken to say anything of the sort, so I bit the bullet and ate all of it. I would rather my tongue suffer quietly than suffer the nerves of talking with another human being.
I then asked for my bed to be made, and I went to brush my teeth to rid my mouth of the dinner. I came back, tucked myself into bed, and had a sound snooze.
I woke up about 2 hours before landing, and I ordered some breakfast.
The yoghurt and the bread basket were phenomenal. I adore the bread and butter that EK uses. I want an EK bakery near where I live. Quite honestly, I prefer it to some insignificant brand called Maison Kayser that JAL seem to rave about. So how is it that EK can do croissants so well yet fail so miserably at some flapjacks? Flapjacks should only be made of oats, butter, sugar and syrup (+/- vanilla, cinnamon flavourings etc). There should be absolutely no room for wheat. Why on earth did my ‘flapjacks’ taste like a humongous version of the blinis you get served with caviar? The compote was lovely, but I could not eat more than a few bites of the blijacks. They even tasted worse than anything on the Kaiseki course, which a couple of hours ago I thought was a feat impossible to achieve.
At least the shower was better. The water rose to more than 5cm when turned upside down! Otherwise it was a pretty standard in-flight shower (I understand the whole concept of an in-flight shower is not very standard, but it’s important to demonstrate flexibility when flying EK).
Moments after my shower, we were ready for landing, and we arrived in Dubai pretty much on time.
‘The temperature outside is a warm 37 degrees…’
‘Warm’, to say the least…
Jul 7, 2017, 5:31 pm
#20
Join Date: Oct 2007
Location: Left
Programs: FT
Posts: 7,285
I think the food looks pretty decent ex-HND. Then again on my J flight on JAL from NRT to ORD the food 'looked' better. I can not resist sake on flights from Japan. They always have way better stuff than I'm used to. And it never gives me a hang over.
Jul 7, 2017, 11:55 pm
#21
Join Date: Aug 2007
Location: ANC
Programs: AS 100K, UA 1K, Hilton Diamond, Hyatt Globalist, Marriott Silver
Posts: 322
Thank you for sharing this TR, and especially for breaking your silence on FT so to speak. As a fellow introvert (ISTJ) I felt I could relate to some of your narrative. Great job!
Jul 8, 2017, 3:10 pm
#22
Original Poster
Join Date: May 2017
Location: London
Programs: EK, Virgin Atlantic, SPG
Posts: 11
I like to think I made the right choice in partially un-introverting myself and breaking my silence on FT. But I am almost certain that once I complete this trip report, I will go back into my silence and un-un-introvert myself, until a few years' time when I feel like writing a trip report again. Of course, by that time people would have forgotten all about my insignificant presence on FT of an almighty number of one, single trip report, and I will go through exactly the same posts and replies I am having here now. As fun as that may be, I feel like I will take a long time to get over that.
As for the comment about JL C class meals looking better, comparing food presentation between a Japanese carrier and everyone else is equivalent to having a beauty showdown between your favourite actress (mine will be Audrey Hepburn) and a blobfish. However we all know that looks aren't everything and in fact can be deceiving. Like that experience we all have, when you meet a really really really attractive girl, and you pluck up all the courage and conquered your fear of new people and say hi to her, only to be replied with voice more manly than the All Blacks doing the Haka (it's just a really good cross-dressing dude). Huh? Nobody else had that experience? Just me? I guess I am living a fun life.
As hard as it is to believe, I am not just a stupid kid, but I do actually have a job, and unfortunately I have 12 hour shifts this weekend. I will try and upload the next segment sooner rather than later, but it may require waiting, which is something people nowadays seem more and more unable to do ('fukki we need you to do this' 'fukki can you come and talk to x y and z' 'fukki can you come and review this result'...Good heavens people have you heard of being patient?? Stop stressing me out so much at work!!)
As for the comment about JL C class meals looking better, comparing food presentation between a Japanese carrier and everyone else is equivalent to having a beauty showdown between your favourite actress (mine will be Audrey Hepburn) and a blobfish. However we all know that looks aren't everything and in fact can be deceiving. Like that experience we all have, when you meet a really really really attractive girl, and you pluck up all the courage and conquered your fear of new people and say hi to her, only to be replied with voice more manly than the All Blacks doing the Haka (it's just a really good cross-dressing dude). Huh? Nobody else had that experience? Just me? I guess I am living a fun life.
As hard as it is to believe, I am not just a stupid kid, but I do actually have a job, and unfortunately I have 12 hour shifts this weekend. I will try and upload the next segment sooner rather than later, but it may require waiting, which is something people nowadays seem more and more unable to do ('fukki we need you to do this' 'fukki can you come and talk to x y and z' 'fukki can you come and review this result'...Good heavens people have you heard of being patient?? Stop stressing me out so much at work!!)
!
Jul 9, 2017, 3:23 pm
#24
Original Poster
Join Date: May 2017
Location: London
Programs: EK, Virgin Atlantic, SPG
Posts: 11
Bits and pieces in Dubai
I didn’t need to use the fast track card for immigration as I was the first off the plane and walked into an immigration hall where there were more officers than immigrants. I’ll keep my fast track card just in case at some point in the future, I will be travelling on EK with a green tag and there are more immigrants than officers. I then followed the signs to the chauffeur drive desk and had the attendant organise a car to take me to the hotel.
When I was choosing which hotel to stay at in Tokyo, I was looking for the cheapest available with a decent safety reputation and in the Akihabara area, which is how I ended up with APA hotel. In Dubai, in the middle of summer, hotels are ridiculously cheap (except for the really mainstream 5 star ones). What kind of lunatic do you have to be to travel in style to the Middle East in summer? A frequent flyer. So I made a list of all the 5 star hotels in Dubai which I could stay for under 100 pounds a night, cut them up, threw them in a bin liner, and picked one at random.
I was going to stay at the Roda al Bustan, formerly known as the Al Bustan Rotana. Which was a bit disappointing really, because I was hoping to pick out a Marriott or a Roda hotel closer to the city centre. But I made a rule and I have to stick to it. Flexibility only applies to EK F. And flexible sigmoidoscopies.
Coincidentally, this is an airport hotel which EK uses to house its homeless premium passengers, along with the neighbouring Le Meridien, when things such as long stopovers or delayed flights happen and they don’t want a shortage of food and space in the lounges (not that they would ever have to worry about that, unless every sumo wrestler simultaneously decide to embark on an EK F RTW trip). I was once upon a time an example of such a homeless premium passenger, and I have stayed here once before during such a long stopover, but I spent 4 hours from 2AM to 6AM so didn’t really have much time to look around or enjoy it.
The outside certainly has the feel of a 5 star hotel, as does the lobby. I found the dome-like structure in the middle really quite beautiful. It was obviously helped by the fact that a piano was in the middle of it and a breezy café was serving the area during opening hours. I was tempted to play it, but bashing out Balakirev’s ‘Islamey’ at 5AM in a quiet 5 star hotel didn’t really seem very fitting, even if we are in a country with the religion being predominantly Islam. Perhaps a Chopin nocturne would have been better – if I could actually play one.
I had contacted the hotel previously that I would be arriving early in the morning, to which they replied by Email that they would be able to accommodate me from that hour. The receptionist could not find any mention that I would be arriving so early. I showed them the Email from the hotel, but they still could not find any mention of it on my reservation. After much head scratching and phonecalls and senior people, locating this specific request proved far too technologically advanced. Alas, my room was not ready, and I would have to wait. They are fortunate I was just a small, tame Asian.
After 2 hours of quiet reading, I was beckoned to the desk and was given my key. I was on the first floor, with an inwards facing room. In fact, I was right next to the swimming pool, with a door that let me directly onto the poolside. I was quite excited, and thinking ‘how cool is that!?’, until I remembered that I couldn’t actually swim and all this coolness is wasted on me. There have been a number of occasions like that in my life, like when I saw a restaurant on TV that served really hot chicken wings that they recommend customers to don plastic gloves to even pick it up but it looked really cool, and I looked up the place on the internet and made a booking, until I realised that I couldn’t actually eat spicy food and I sheepishly called the restaurant 10 minutes later to cancel said booking. Or like that time on a Duke of Edinburgh bronze expedition that I befriended an unusually tame deer in the Scottish highlands and started feeding it, until I realised I had no more food for the day and slept shivering and hungry that night. Come to think of it, I guess I have come quite far, from sharing food scraps with deer, to eating caviar on EK F. As you can imagine, I am fairly used to getting demoralised so I didn’t let the pool disappointment get the better of me.
I decided to have some breakfast, hoping that the previous ingestion would be overridden by a spectacular buffet for the royals (that's who 5 star hotels cater to right? Burj Al Arab isn't really 7 stars after all, just a bit of self-proclaimed arrogance, which we all know isn't all that reliable). Breakfast is served in the hotel restaurant called Makan, and cost 120AED. The quality…could do with a quality improvement project. You can’t complain about quantity in a buffet. But a stomach stuffed with mediocre eggs and tasteless veal bacon is probably not worth 120AED. I would have preferred my old school canteen for the same price. I realise that as I get older (the ripe old age of 25, which may be the time I start getting arthritis and it's a little disappointing that I have to round up to 30), I start missing my childhood more, and think how much more I could have enjoyed things rather than take them for granted. Like the food. Or the air conditioned boarding houses with daily room cleaning (although I suppose air conditioning is wasted in the gray and miserable land of the Scots). Or my acquaintance at school who had his school shoes, which he left at home, delivered to him by a helicopter that landed on the rugby pitch. I felt like I was in such poverty because my parents wouldn't bring my shoes on a helicopter and my parents wouldn't donate a huge sum of money to a university through connections to get me a place, and actually make me work for it.
I had just over 24 hours in Dubai and I was planning on going to the Dubai mall. It was quite a revelation when I realised that, despite having spent time in Dubai on several occasions before I had never been there. Surely it was the first place I needed to go, especially considering the fact I believe that fish are cuter than puppies, hamsters, and babies combined. I had read that the hotel provided transport services to the city centre, and they also provided currency exchange. So I went to the concierge desk in the morning.
‘Hi, I am sorry to bother you. I heard that you offered currency exchange services?’
‘Certainly sir, how much would you like to change?
‘20000 JPY please’
‘I am sorry, we do not do JPY’
‘Oh…I’m sorry. Sorry, one more thing, sorry, I heard you offered some transport to the city centre?’
‘Yes sir, there is a bus at 10AM that takes you to the Deira City Centre’
‘Oh…not to downtown?’
‘I am sorry, only the Deira City Centre’
‘Oh…I didn’t know. I’m sorry’
So I was left with no currency and no transport, and I needed to find a way to get to the Dubai Mall. I was forced to commit a sin that goes against the 10 commandments for frequent flyers - I begrudgingly used my Visa card to withdraw 100AED and paid the foreign transaction fee...may god have mercy on my soul. I haven't the foggiest what the other 9 commandments are, by the way. I then took the hotel bus to the Deira City Centre. From there, I headed to the Dubai Metro station.
I am always apprehensive about public transport in a new country, as I never know where I am going and my sense of direction is about as reliable as the future of the UK post-Brexit. I once got lost in my home town (Nagasaki) in the city centre, which takes about 20 minutes of walking and 40 minutes on the bus from home. I walked around trying to find where I was (going to a police box and talking to an officer I never met before was not an option), and I found myself in a place I recognised - 5 minutes from home. Thankfully, the Dubai Metro map is fairly easy to understand, unlike the maze that is the Tokyo underground and JR system (especially around the Shinjuku station), and thank heavens the Dubai Mall is directly connected to the Metro station. I went to the ticket machine and tried to buy a single ticket to the Dubai Mall. I guess I was far too much of a scrub, because my filthy 100AED note wasn't good enough for the machine. I then went to a manned desk. As I was about to get to the counter, however, two locals got into a fight and the man behind the desk called for security and the desk operations halted. I stood there for 15 minutes looking blank and incompetent before the desk resumed operations. The guy behind the desk initially looked at me in a weird way when I attempted to pay for an 8AED ticket with a 100AED note, but when he realised I was actually a tourist not knowing what I was doing, he didn't find any further pleasure in giving me quizzical looks. I finally had what I needed to get to the mall.
I found it rather hilarious that the first shop in the mall you see coming out of the metro station is a Japanese bookstore called Kinokuniya. Things suddenly felt very at home…until I realised it is of the scale and grandeur that puts all other Kinokuniyas in Japan to shame by a long margin.
Obviously, I needed to go to the Emirates store. I already have an A380 and a B772, so all I needed to buy was the B773. Every year when I move house I have a problem with the quantity of planes, and I swear to myself I will never purchase a plane again. I have no idea how, the following year, I seem to make the same resolution in front of a collection with 3 new planes that weren't there the previous year. Bateel was a stop too, because believe it or not, I enjoy Arabic food including dates. Have I told you this before? Patchi is very popular amongst Asian tourists in the Middle East, so being an Asian tourist in the Middle East, I went there.
I then wandered around looking at shops and food courts. Now, before this day I never knew that casually wandering around some shops would make my feet hurt more than they did in the steeplechases; this mall is huge. I saw a couple of fish in a tank, some silver people falling over fountains, and a dinosaur chilling out in the souk area. Safe to say I got some exercise, which is always promoted, often become a subject of a new year's resolution, but almost never performed.
I eventually found my way back to the Metro station, where I managed to successfully buy a ticket at the ticket machine without any hiccups. I felt proud in my small success, almost as proud as when I first discovered how to use a smartphone recently, which was only a little more of a proud moment than when I graduated university. I rode back to the Deira City Centre, and from there took a taxi back to the hotel.
I lazed around in my room for the afternoon, and then I headed down to the lobby to find some food. I was unsuccessful, or rather, too self-conscious to enter the Roda Grill alone. So I returned to my room and decided to have a room service dinner of lamb biryani Arabic style. I really like Arabic food. Although the rice was a little bland, there were a good number of meat cubes and the raita and mint sauces were tasty. Perhaps a small portion for costing 85AED, but it is room service after all. I have to be grateful to the hotel for managing to feed me at my solitary convenience.
I didn’t need to use the fast track card for immigration as I was the first off the plane and walked into an immigration hall where there were more officers than immigrants. I’ll keep my fast track card just in case at some point in the future, I will be travelling on EK with a green tag and there are more immigrants than officers. I then followed the signs to the chauffeur drive desk and had the attendant organise a car to take me to the hotel.
When I was choosing which hotel to stay at in Tokyo, I was looking for the cheapest available with a decent safety reputation and in the Akihabara area, which is how I ended up with APA hotel. In Dubai, in the middle of summer, hotels are ridiculously cheap (except for the really mainstream 5 star ones). What kind of lunatic do you have to be to travel in style to the Middle East in summer? A frequent flyer. So I made a list of all the 5 star hotels in Dubai which I could stay for under 100 pounds a night, cut them up, threw them in a bin liner, and picked one at random.
I was going to stay at the Roda al Bustan, formerly known as the Al Bustan Rotana. Which was a bit disappointing really, because I was hoping to pick out a Marriott or a Roda hotel closer to the city centre. But I made a rule and I have to stick to it. Flexibility only applies to EK F. And flexible sigmoidoscopies.
Coincidentally, this is an airport hotel which EK uses to house its homeless premium passengers, along with the neighbouring Le Meridien, when things such as long stopovers or delayed flights happen and they don’t want a shortage of food and space in the lounges (not that they would ever have to worry about that, unless every sumo wrestler simultaneously decide to embark on an EK F RTW trip). I was once upon a time an example of such a homeless premium passenger, and I have stayed here once before during such a long stopover, but I spent 4 hours from 2AM to 6AM so didn’t really have much time to look around or enjoy it.
The outside certainly has the feel of a 5 star hotel, as does the lobby. I found the dome-like structure in the middle really quite beautiful. It was obviously helped by the fact that a piano was in the middle of it and a breezy café was serving the area during opening hours. I was tempted to play it, but bashing out Balakirev’s ‘Islamey’ at 5AM in a quiet 5 star hotel didn’t really seem very fitting, even if we are in a country with the religion being predominantly Islam. Perhaps a Chopin nocturne would have been better – if I could actually play one.
I had contacted the hotel previously that I would be arriving early in the morning, to which they replied by Email that they would be able to accommodate me from that hour. The receptionist could not find any mention that I would be arriving so early. I showed them the Email from the hotel, but they still could not find any mention of it on my reservation. After much head scratching and phonecalls and senior people, locating this specific request proved far too technologically advanced. Alas, my room was not ready, and I would have to wait. They are fortunate I was just a small, tame Asian.
After 2 hours of quiet reading, I was beckoned to the desk and was given my key. I was on the first floor, with an inwards facing room. In fact, I was right next to the swimming pool, with a door that let me directly onto the poolside. I was quite excited, and thinking ‘how cool is that!?’, until I remembered that I couldn’t actually swim and all this coolness is wasted on me. There have been a number of occasions like that in my life, like when I saw a restaurant on TV that served really hot chicken wings that they recommend customers to don plastic gloves to even pick it up but it looked really cool, and I looked up the place on the internet and made a booking, until I realised that I couldn’t actually eat spicy food and I sheepishly called the restaurant 10 minutes later to cancel said booking. Or like that time on a Duke of Edinburgh bronze expedition that I befriended an unusually tame deer in the Scottish highlands and started feeding it, until I realised I had no more food for the day and slept shivering and hungry that night. Come to think of it, I guess I have come quite far, from sharing food scraps with deer, to eating caviar on EK F. As you can imagine, I am fairly used to getting demoralised so I didn’t let the pool disappointment get the better of me.
I decided to have some breakfast, hoping that the previous ingestion would be overridden by a spectacular buffet for the royals (that's who 5 star hotels cater to right? Burj Al Arab isn't really 7 stars after all, just a bit of self-proclaimed arrogance, which we all know isn't all that reliable). Breakfast is served in the hotel restaurant called Makan, and cost 120AED. The quality…could do with a quality improvement project. You can’t complain about quantity in a buffet. But a stomach stuffed with mediocre eggs and tasteless veal bacon is probably not worth 120AED. I would have preferred my old school canteen for the same price. I realise that as I get older (the ripe old age of 25, which may be the time I start getting arthritis and it's a little disappointing that I have to round up to 30), I start missing my childhood more, and think how much more I could have enjoyed things rather than take them for granted. Like the food. Or the air conditioned boarding houses with daily room cleaning (although I suppose air conditioning is wasted in the gray and miserable land of the Scots). Or my acquaintance at school who had his school shoes, which he left at home, delivered to him by a helicopter that landed on the rugby pitch. I felt like I was in such poverty because my parents wouldn't bring my shoes on a helicopter and my parents wouldn't donate a huge sum of money to a university through connections to get me a place, and actually make me work for it.
I had just over 24 hours in Dubai and I was planning on going to the Dubai mall. It was quite a revelation when I realised that, despite having spent time in Dubai on several occasions before I had never been there. Surely it was the first place I needed to go, especially considering the fact I believe that fish are cuter than puppies, hamsters, and babies combined. I had read that the hotel provided transport services to the city centre, and they also provided currency exchange. So I went to the concierge desk in the morning.
‘Hi, I am sorry to bother you. I heard that you offered currency exchange services?’
‘Certainly sir, how much would you like to change?
‘20000 JPY please’
‘I am sorry, we do not do JPY’
‘Oh…I’m sorry. Sorry, one more thing, sorry, I heard you offered some transport to the city centre?’
‘Yes sir, there is a bus at 10AM that takes you to the Deira City Centre’
‘Oh…not to downtown?’
‘I am sorry, only the Deira City Centre’
‘Oh…I didn’t know. I’m sorry’
So I was left with no currency and no transport, and I needed to find a way to get to the Dubai Mall. I was forced to commit a sin that goes against the 10 commandments for frequent flyers - I begrudgingly used my Visa card to withdraw 100AED and paid the foreign transaction fee...may god have mercy on my soul. I haven't the foggiest what the other 9 commandments are, by the way. I then took the hotel bus to the Deira City Centre. From there, I headed to the Dubai Metro station.
I am always apprehensive about public transport in a new country, as I never know where I am going and my sense of direction is about as reliable as the future of the UK post-Brexit. I once got lost in my home town (Nagasaki) in the city centre, which takes about 20 minutes of walking and 40 minutes on the bus from home. I walked around trying to find where I was (going to a police box and talking to an officer I never met before was not an option), and I found myself in a place I recognised - 5 minutes from home. Thankfully, the Dubai Metro map is fairly easy to understand, unlike the maze that is the Tokyo underground and JR system (especially around the Shinjuku station), and thank heavens the Dubai Mall is directly connected to the Metro station. I went to the ticket machine and tried to buy a single ticket to the Dubai Mall. I guess I was far too much of a scrub, because my filthy 100AED note wasn't good enough for the machine. I then went to a manned desk. As I was about to get to the counter, however, two locals got into a fight and the man behind the desk called for security and the desk operations halted. I stood there for 15 minutes looking blank and incompetent before the desk resumed operations. The guy behind the desk initially looked at me in a weird way when I attempted to pay for an 8AED ticket with a 100AED note, but when he realised I was actually a tourist not knowing what I was doing, he didn't find any further pleasure in giving me quizzical looks. I finally had what I needed to get to the mall.
I found it rather hilarious that the first shop in the mall you see coming out of the metro station is a Japanese bookstore called Kinokuniya. Things suddenly felt very at home…until I realised it is of the scale and grandeur that puts all other Kinokuniyas in Japan to shame by a long margin.
Obviously, I needed to go to the Emirates store. I already have an A380 and a B772, so all I needed to buy was the B773. Every year when I move house I have a problem with the quantity of planes, and I swear to myself I will never purchase a plane again. I have no idea how, the following year, I seem to make the same resolution in front of a collection with 3 new planes that weren't there the previous year. Bateel was a stop too, because believe it or not, I enjoy Arabic food including dates. Have I told you this before? Patchi is very popular amongst Asian tourists in the Middle East, so being an Asian tourist in the Middle East, I went there.
I then wandered around looking at shops and food courts. Now, before this day I never knew that casually wandering around some shops would make my feet hurt more than they did in the steeplechases; this mall is huge. I saw a couple of fish in a tank, some silver people falling over fountains, and a dinosaur chilling out in the souk area. Safe to say I got some exercise, which is always promoted, often become a subject of a new year's resolution, but almost never performed.
I eventually found my way back to the Metro station, where I managed to successfully buy a ticket at the ticket machine without any hiccups. I felt proud in my small success, almost as proud as when I first discovered how to use a smartphone recently, which was only a little more of a proud moment than when I graduated university. I rode back to the Deira City Centre, and from there took a taxi back to the hotel.
I lazed around in my room for the afternoon, and then I headed down to the lobby to find some food. I was unsuccessful, or rather, too self-conscious to enter the Roda Grill alone. So I returned to my room and decided to have a room service dinner of lamb biryani Arabic style. I really like Arabic food. Although the rice was a little bland, there were a good number of meat cubes and the raita and mint sauces were tasty. Perhaps a small portion for costing 85AED, but it is room service after all. I have to be grateful to the hotel for managing to feed me at my solitary convenience.
Jul 10, 2017, 1:15 pm
#26
Original Poster
Join Date: May 2017
Location: London
Programs: EK, Virgin Atlantic, SPG
Posts: 11
Back home
I awoke to the morning call at 430AM the next day, and headed to DXB with the Emirates chauffeur. The flight to LGW was departing from the A gates, so I found myself at the same lounge with the same menu with the same egg benedict in the same cigar lounge. Not that having the same experience is ever a bad thing. It is the EK F lounge in DXB after all.
I boarded the flight to Gatwick directly from the lounge, and soon I was in the very familiar surroundings of the EK F cabin. When a first class cabin becomes familiar surroundings to you, I believe that's a sign telling you that perhaps you have had far too much pampery and it is time to un-spoil yourself in the face of the cruel and miserable world of reality. Which, ultimately, is what this flight is all about, but I didn't have the courage to admit. The load was 8/14. Of course, the seat was exactly the same as the outbound flight mentioned before.
One thing of note, however, was the attitude by the crew members on this flight. Firstly, I was not escorted to my seat, which I know I can do without, but I believed was protocol in EK F and is one thing that made me feel that little bit more superior than the passengers who walk by the cabin with envious glances of the gold and bling before settling into their 70+ inch lie-flat seat with direct aisle access. Secondly, the attendant serving my aisle was rather casual
‘You familiar with the suite yeah? Need anything explained?’
‘Sorry, I am familiar with the suite thank you, sorry’
‘Do you want a drink?’
‘Yes please, sorry, could I have some tonic water please?’
‘Yeah sure, I’ll be right back’
On the other hand, the purser of the flight was extremely polite and well-mannered, which I appreciated. What a shame that he was the purser and not the allocated steward. I only saw him at the start and the end of the flight.
I decided to be brave and adventurous in my meal choices this time round. I had caviar, Arabic mezze, biryani, and the cheese board. In case you were wondering, I really do appreciate Arabic food.
Having been to the on board bar on other flights aboard the A380, I suddenly had a revelation that it wasn’t actually an obligation for me to go there. Each time, I would go, have a soft drink, stand around awkwardly in a corner, and head back to my suite again. I realised after more than 20 flights in EK F on the A380, it would be more comfortable just to stay in my suite. So I did, and watched some movie that I didn’t really pay attention to. I started reading ‘The lives and times of the great composers’, and in what seemed like 5 minutes we were at Gatwick.
There is only one gate for the A380 at Gatwick, and it is 640m away from immigration. This is where I value being in first class, as I can be one of the first off the plane and hit the immigration desks before the horrendous queues start forming. Immigration desks at the London airports during peak tourist times are probably the first and most impressive tourist attraction that tourists see. And I am talking out of all the tourist attractions in London, of which there are many, expected and unexpected. For example, the Big Ben is expected. The hologram NHS nurse telling people to wash their hands at the entrance to the Whittington hospital is an unexpected tourist attraction. I honestly did see, in summer 2014, a group of Japanese tourists at the entrance of the Whittington hospital pointing and taking pictures of the hologram nurse telling people to wash their hands. I don’t know if London were genuinely promoting the NHS or if Japanese people’s imaginations of tourist attractions are so varied, but it gave me a chuckle nonetheless.
I was through immigration in a few minutes thanks to being first off the plane and also a dedicated lane for EK F passengers. I then got a bored looking woman at the chauffeur desk to shout across to a disorganised mass or burly, gruff blokes, and soon enough my personal burly, gruff bloke took my suitcase, but this time, surprisingly, with a hello.
Oh my goodness it was the longest drive of my life, because this guy just would not stop talking. He would talk about everything and anything, including his family, his previous passengers, how he used to work as a KFC area manager etc (what does an area manager even do?). It got a little overwhelming so I forced up all my confidence and communication skills, and politely told him to shut his trap as I was tired. He shut his trap for 5 minutes and opened them again. By the end of the drive I could write his CV.
One thing we did agree on, though, was that if Kent is described as the garden of England, then where I live is the compost heap.
Final thoughts
Once I reach the last stretch of any trip, I usually reminisce the out-of-ordinary experience I am about to end. I couldn’t do it as effectively this time thanks to the burly, gruff bloke who wouldn’t shut his trap, but I managed to collect some thoughts nevertheless, which I would like to share here.
I am exceedingly, and I mean it, exceedingly lucky to be able to travel the way I do with cash, points, or miles. Travelling, and the world of award travel, is something I found when I was 16 and has been with me ever since. And even now, after hundreds of trips, any trip to anywhere in the world is still an out-of-ordinary experience. Especially because I am not a full time traveller or a travel blogger. I want to maximise every aspect of it: planning, booking, getting excited a few days before, all the moments within the trip, and the memories you reminisce as you return to familiar surroundings. This applies to all travel for me, regardless of whether I am flying Emirates, first class, or anything else (yes, even finishing a trip on BA Y would give me at least some good memories. I guess my love for travelling far outweighs the hatred of BA, and I’m sure I’m not the only one).
Perhaps it is because I am so easily pleased during travel, it never ceases to amaze me how much I am saddened when I come to the end of a trip. It’s definitely not like me to become melancholic about things, but as I reminisce in my swanky black Mercedes about the suites, the lounges, the anime shops and endless sushi plates, I can’t help but think ‘when will be the next time I go?’. It’s not easy to book leave, and I don’t have an endless stash of points or money. And while I know for certain this wouldn’t be the last time I travel, the child’s heart within me throws a little tantrum, not wanting this to end, wanting to tell the driver to turn back to the airport immediately and buy a ticket to another destination in the world and jet off the same evening. But as a (?)responsible adult with a (?)responsible job, I know that’s not possible. I keep, with great difficulty, that tantrum child inside and play it cool with a smile and the odd ‘uh-huh’ to the eternally conversational driver. I know that once I reach my home in the compost heap of England and take that step out of this car, the magical experience is over, and I am back to a lowly peasant. But if I ask myself, ‘was it worth it?’, the answer is always a big yes, which in many ways is the most important aspect of a solo trip. I know within myself that I have memories and experiences which nobody within a 100-mile radius of me will ever have. I know that the person I walk by on the street tomorrow morning will have no idea that 24 hours previously, I was sipping champagne and eating caviar 40000 feet above Iran. And those thoughts make me feel, well smug first of all, but also ever more grateful about what I am fortunate enough to be able to do, and a determination to do another trip (+/- report) in the not too distant future.
I am sure people here agree with me, that this feeling is what keeps us travelling.
Thank you for reading my first ever trip report, which may not have been the most informative report of an airline product or hotel, but I hope brought a smile to your day.
I awoke to the morning call at 430AM the next day, and headed to DXB with the Emirates chauffeur. The flight to LGW was departing from the A gates, so I found myself at the same lounge with the same menu with the same egg benedict in the same cigar lounge. Not that having the same experience is ever a bad thing. It is the EK F lounge in DXB after all.
I boarded the flight to Gatwick directly from the lounge, and soon I was in the very familiar surroundings of the EK F cabin. When a first class cabin becomes familiar surroundings to you, I believe that's a sign telling you that perhaps you have had far too much pampery and it is time to un-spoil yourself in the face of the cruel and miserable world of reality. Which, ultimately, is what this flight is all about, but I didn't have the courage to admit. The load was 8/14. Of course, the seat was exactly the same as the outbound flight mentioned before.
One thing of note, however, was the attitude by the crew members on this flight. Firstly, I was not escorted to my seat, which I know I can do without, but I believed was protocol in EK F and is one thing that made me feel that little bit more superior than the passengers who walk by the cabin with envious glances of the gold and bling before settling into their 70+ inch lie-flat seat with direct aisle access. Secondly, the attendant serving my aisle was rather casual
‘You familiar with the suite yeah? Need anything explained?’
‘Sorry, I am familiar with the suite thank you, sorry’
‘Do you want a drink?’
‘Yes please, sorry, could I have some tonic water please?’
‘Yeah sure, I’ll be right back’
On the other hand, the purser of the flight was extremely polite and well-mannered, which I appreciated. What a shame that he was the purser and not the allocated steward. I only saw him at the start and the end of the flight.
I decided to be brave and adventurous in my meal choices this time round. I had caviar, Arabic mezze, biryani, and the cheese board. In case you were wondering, I really do appreciate Arabic food.
Having been to the on board bar on other flights aboard the A380, I suddenly had a revelation that it wasn’t actually an obligation for me to go there. Each time, I would go, have a soft drink, stand around awkwardly in a corner, and head back to my suite again. I realised after more than 20 flights in EK F on the A380, it would be more comfortable just to stay in my suite. So I did, and watched some movie that I didn’t really pay attention to. I started reading ‘The lives and times of the great composers’, and in what seemed like 5 minutes we were at Gatwick.
There is only one gate for the A380 at Gatwick, and it is 640m away from immigration. This is where I value being in first class, as I can be one of the first off the plane and hit the immigration desks before the horrendous queues start forming. Immigration desks at the London airports during peak tourist times are probably the first and most impressive tourist attraction that tourists see. And I am talking out of all the tourist attractions in London, of which there are many, expected and unexpected. For example, the Big Ben is expected. The hologram NHS nurse telling people to wash their hands at the entrance to the Whittington hospital is an unexpected tourist attraction. I honestly did see, in summer 2014, a group of Japanese tourists at the entrance of the Whittington hospital pointing and taking pictures of the hologram nurse telling people to wash their hands. I don’t know if London were genuinely promoting the NHS or if Japanese people’s imaginations of tourist attractions are so varied, but it gave me a chuckle nonetheless.
I was through immigration in a few minutes thanks to being first off the plane and also a dedicated lane for EK F passengers. I then got a bored looking woman at the chauffeur desk to shout across to a disorganised mass or burly, gruff blokes, and soon enough my personal burly, gruff bloke took my suitcase, but this time, surprisingly, with a hello.
Oh my goodness it was the longest drive of my life, because this guy just would not stop talking. He would talk about everything and anything, including his family, his previous passengers, how he used to work as a KFC area manager etc (what does an area manager even do?). It got a little overwhelming so I forced up all my confidence and communication skills, and politely told him to shut his trap as I was tired. He shut his trap for 5 minutes and opened them again. By the end of the drive I could write his CV.
One thing we did agree on, though, was that if Kent is described as the garden of England, then where I live is the compost heap.
Final thoughts
Once I reach the last stretch of any trip, I usually reminisce the out-of-ordinary experience I am about to end. I couldn’t do it as effectively this time thanks to the burly, gruff bloke who wouldn’t shut his trap, but I managed to collect some thoughts nevertheless, which I would like to share here.
I am exceedingly, and I mean it, exceedingly lucky to be able to travel the way I do with cash, points, or miles. Travelling, and the world of award travel, is something I found when I was 16 and has been with me ever since. And even now, after hundreds of trips, any trip to anywhere in the world is still an out-of-ordinary experience. Especially because I am not a full time traveller or a travel blogger. I want to maximise every aspect of it: planning, booking, getting excited a few days before, all the moments within the trip, and the memories you reminisce as you return to familiar surroundings. This applies to all travel for me, regardless of whether I am flying Emirates, first class, or anything else (yes, even finishing a trip on BA Y would give me at least some good memories. I guess my love for travelling far outweighs the hatred of BA, and I’m sure I’m not the only one).
Perhaps it is because I am so easily pleased during travel, it never ceases to amaze me how much I am saddened when I come to the end of a trip. It’s definitely not like me to become melancholic about things, but as I reminisce in my swanky black Mercedes about the suites, the lounges, the anime shops and endless sushi plates, I can’t help but think ‘when will be the next time I go?’. It’s not easy to book leave, and I don’t have an endless stash of points or money. And while I know for certain this wouldn’t be the last time I travel, the child’s heart within me throws a little tantrum, not wanting this to end, wanting to tell the driver to turn back to the airport immediately and buy a ticket to another destination in the world and jet off the same evening. But as a (?)responsible adult with a (?)responsible job, I know that’s not possible. I keep, with great difficulty, that tantrum child inside and play it cool with a smile and the odd ‘uh-huh’ to the eternally conversational driver. I know that once I reach my home in the compost heap of England and take that step out of this car, the magical experience is over, and I am back to a lowly peasant. But if I ask myself, ‘was it worth it?’, the answer is always a big yes, which in many ways is the most important aspect of a solo trip. I know within myself that I have memories and experiences which nobody within a 100-mile radius of me will ever have. I know that the person I walk by on the street tomorrow morning will have no idea that 24 hours previously, I was sipping champagne and eating caviar 40000 feet above Iran. And those thoughts make me feel, well smug first of all, but also ever more grateful about what I am fortunate enough to be able to do, and a determination to do another trip (+/- report) in the not too distant future.
I am sure people here agree with me, that this feeling is what keeps us travelling.
Thank you for reading my first ever trip report, which may not have been the most informative report of an airline product or hotel, but I hope brought a smile to your day.
Jul 10, 2017, 2:19 pm
#27
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Toronto, Canada
Programs: Aeroplan Airmiles AMEX-MR Alaska Airlines
Posts: 692
your writing style is absolutely brilliant. you must be canadian with the sheer # of sorry's in your conversations. 
hope to see more TRs from you in the future.
hope to see more TRs from you in the future.
Jul 10, 2017, 2:54 pm
#28
FlyerTalk Evangelist
Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: Denver • DEN-APA
Programs: AF Platinum, EK Gold, AA EXP, UA 1K, Hyatt Globalist
Posts: 21,588
Loving your report and wonderful sense of humour.
^
But when I fly first class I try to have the champagne as much as tolerated. Why? Because it’s expensive. So I drank some Dom Perignon. I will now try to become a sommelier and honestly comment on it: ‘It tasted like mild fizzy vinegar, and frankly I taste no difference between this and some cheap stuff from Sainsbury’s. But it’s expensive so I will have another glass’
