Trip Report CX469 TPE HKG. Heavy Turbulence.

An absolutely dreary day as I drive to the airport on this Friday 20 December 2002 for a series of flights around the globe in the joyous season of Christmas/Hanukkah/Constitution Day. I use one of the self-service check-in machines in terminal 1 of Taipei’s CKS airport – probably the most efficient and unpretentious airport in Asia. The friendly machine spits out my boarding pass for CX469 and I proceed through immigration to the mini-Wing business class lounge, a marvel of post-post modern architecture and full of culinary delights. I fire off a final e-mail to my office from the Internet stations, read the weather report for Hong Kong and my other destinations, warn my family of my upcoming descent upon their rural idyll in the heart of Europe, and check in for the next segment of my journey.
Boarding was uneventful, quick, and the smiles of Cathay employees on the plane remind me again why I have been flying this airline for years now. Drab and dreary rainy weather outside as I listen to the captain announcing takeoff, and Joshua Bell fiddling away, interrupted briefly by a male FA stowing my notebook and removing the empty cocktail glass from where I have placed it after sipping the now famous kiwi concoction with a dash of menthe. As can be expected from a resource board such as this, the recipe is already being debated in a separate thread http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/Forum...L/001309.html.
Takeoff. As soon as we pass the first layer of clouds and the coast of Taiwan disappears under a thick blanket of white, I recline slightly in my 12K to read the menu: Fruits, Steamed Pork with Preserved Gooseberry, Jade Rice and Broccoli, Angel Hair Pasta with Mixed Seafood and Tomato Sauce, followed by Cathay’s marvellous albeit slightly atypical Tiramisu, tea and coffee, and the obligatory pralines. I am hungry and looking forward to this sort of brunch, when all of a sudden the plane starts to shake violently. Some people don’t mind a bit of turbulence in the air, but I am absolutely allergic to the shaking and rattling. It gets worse. Flight attendants struggle up and down the aisles, barely able to walk. Anytime now, I think, the captain will come online announcing the suspension of in-flight service due to loss of both engines on this slightly jaded Airbus A330. When he does, he briefly mentions inclement weather, the need for seatbelts (I figured that one out by then), but what seems like a perfectly good reason for me to grab the nearest life jacket and start praying, the man up front with the sun glasses calls “no reason to fret about”, even though – unfortunately was the word he used -- other planes ahead of us were reporting worse to come. I am not going to bore you with my anxieties and sudden bouts of never-fly-again self pity, interspersed with heroic thoughts of self-assurance and breathing exercises over the next hour, but instead report to you truthfully that I am impressed with the way the FAs handled the situation. Calm, confident, ever smiling, they proceeded to serve lunch – not to me, I was already sick – only skipping the hot drinks as the captain had ordered, served their hot towels, distributed headsets, all the while getting bruised in the narrow aisles and removing paper bags from the hands of people who had already had their breakfasts on the ground and came up here to 31000 feet to regret it. It was one of the worst flights I have experienced, and oddly enough I noticed that during spouts of heavy shaking, the flight path monitor showed a lot less tailwind, 8-10 miles per hour, than during the relatively few intermezzos of smooth gliding (80-90 miles per hour). Naďve me always thought that turbulence comes with wind. Apparently the opposite is true. (Must do some reading on this issue.)
The captain had lowered our flight altitude to 26000 feet right after his first announcement, claiming that at this altitude the skies were calmer. I dare not imagine what the ride would have been at 31000 feet then. We landed after a little more than the usual flight time at 12:25, and I am as grateful as ever for the pleasant surroundings of the Wing to recover for now.

Trip Report CX271 HKG AMS
23 DEC 0:15

I had arrived from an Intra-Asian connection flight hours earlier that day, had had a meeting at the Wing, had taken a shower under the most powerful showerhead in the northern hemisphere, and then proceeded to relax in my favourite corner of the lounge, above the boarding areas of gates three and four. I did get a lot of work done, writing almost thirty pages of my new book in less than three hours, interrupted only by quick trips to the bar for beer, a tuna sandwich on rye, and an apple. The Wing is beyond any doubt the most agreeable airline lounge in the world. There are comparable lounges, I agree, like BA’s Terraces in New York and London, but the Wing’s architecture, it’s alluring simplicity, the well balanced seating arrangements and stylish combinations of wood, leather and metal straight lines render it most agreeable to the eye, much more so than the hotchpotch of colours thrown at you at other facilities. There is also a sense of calm, five meters above the boarding levels, an air of control and superiority looking down at the crowds queuing to get on what are mostly (or exclusively) CX planes in this section of the airport.
At 11:30 I placed my notebook & hand carry in the luggage storeroom and ventured to buy a last gift for my eighty-two year old granny. It was the time of the year, but HKG airport seemed less immersed in the Christmas kitsch than in previous years. Or maybe I am just getting used to the spectacle, not noticing the fake mistletoe and bellowing Santa Clauses.
I retrieved my luggage again at ten minutes to midnight, walked the 100 metres across the corner to my gate, handed my boarding pass and passport to the friendly gate agent, who greeted me by name and wished me a pleasant flight. There was nobody queuing for business/first, while the economy queue still had at least 50 people in it, among them many woman or men with children waiting to be reunited with the rest of their families for a Christmas holiday.
I went straight to my seat, where Irma put my bag in the overhead compartment before I could stop her and do it myself, and seconds later I was comfy, shoeless, blanket covered with a glass of champagne in my left hand, crouching in 12K (new J) on a A340-300.

There has been some argument on both the comfort of the new J class compared to the old, and the advantages of new J on a Boeing 747 or Airbus 340, at different times, both with some acquaintances of mine and on this board. We’ll here’s what I think: Some recent changes in the new J (see https://www.cathaypacific.com/intl/f...86953,00.html) must have already been incorporated on this plane, for I swear the seat did recline farther – more horizontal that is, or ‘flatter’, than I remembered and there was absolutely no G-string effect. (As you’ll later see, I slept like a baby and have absolutely nothing to report about the major part of the flight.) I do prefer the new J over the old, but I wouldn’t change travel dates or otherwise put up a fight to get one over the other. The old J was comfortable, much more so than any other airline I know. The new one is stylish, smart, comfortable, again much more so than any other new business class I know, including the pioneer of flat biz flying, BA, whose flat beds seem hard and narrow in comparison. I am excited about the upcoming new Qantas product, but I doubt they’ll beat CX. As for SG, the space bed allegedly does compare well with the CX product, but I am so in love with CX’s colour scheme and use of fabrics that I have no desire to board an SQ plane in the foreseeable future.
As for the issue of the airplane, Boeing vs. A340, I am as yet undecided. I love Airbus planes, all of them, but most of all the A340 series. There is something friendly and homely about the slightly more claustrophobic design. I find the Boeing 777 with its large dimensions (the overhead compartment fold away so perfectly!) a good choice, and I still think there is no comparison to the roar and feeling of heaviness and bulkiness the 747 conveys. Also, I love walking up the stairs to the upper deck. But somehow, and this is where the argument may lose credibility and logic, the new business class doesn’t go with the 747. The interior of the 747 is higher, while the new J seat seems to have been designed for the tighter, more protected air of the A340. Or maybe I just have to get used to New J on 747. Enough about preferences, I am sure you have your own. At this point, I thinkthe new CX J on an A340 is the most civilized way of flying.

My champagne glass remained where it was throughout the taxiing to the runway, and all the way up to 24’000 feet, when our ascend out into the South China Sea and then right back up north above the Chinese mainland had been completed. It was subsequently removed by a friendly, Indian girl with an endearing posh English accented, spiced with a touch of something south Indian. She greeted me by name, thanked me for being aboard again, asked me whether I was planning to have dinner or not, a drink before maybe, and then handed me a questionnaire with the words “as one of our most valued passengers, we care a lot about your opinion. Can we bother you to fill out this customer survey form?” That, combined with the luscious smile of a seemingly genuinely friendly Indian beauty – how could anyone refuse, even if they had, much like me, no clue what exactly made them ‘most valued customers” when in their purse they hid but a meagrely golden ID of the Marco Polo Club, patronizing this fabulous airline fewer than 10 times a year.
I decided to wait until the end of the flight before giving my honest opinion about the airline by choosing the field “TOTALLY SATISFIED” for every question. I am exaggerating I actually found a few questions I couldn’t answer in the above manner. More about that later.

Dinner was served and started with a salad, while I flipped throughout the Entertainment guide, tempted to put away my Simon Winchester in favour of Mr. Shyamalan’s War of the Worlds remake slash “I can see alien people” thriller slash sci-fi movie “Signs”.
The decision would have to wait, because for now I was listening to Beethoven’s Ninth whilst marinating my salad. It was a Seasonal Mixed Salad with Pesto Marinated Chicken, served with the ubiquitous but much liked Balsamic Vinegar Dressing. The tiny pieces of pesto chicken were exquisite, and the entire salad gone in no time, accompanied by a piece of sour bread, all very much to my taste.

Having repeatedly promised myself not to eat beef late nights to avoid sleeping problems, I decided to have the Braised Seabass Fillet with Preserved Gooseberry, serve with Steamed Rice and Fresh Seasonal Vegetables prepared by or at least in the spirit of Mr. Kinsen Kam of the Yung Kee restaurant. When the trolley arrived however, we took another right turn after we had surprisingly come on a far more westerly course over Yunnan than I ever remembered, and on sight of the juicy “Grilled Beef Fillet with Onion and Mustard Sauce, served with Roasted Potatoes with Parsley and Fresh Seasonal Vegetables, I changed my mind and gave in to temptation, knowing that I would regret my choice later. The beef was scrumptious, tender and perfectly pink. For matters of completeness, this flight also served the light selections Rice Vermicelli with Roast Duck in Soup and Salami with Pineapple and Cheese Pizza. Both looked tempting.

By the end of my steak the LSO had finished Beethoven’s late masterpiece, and Simon lost against Night in the fight for entertaining me. When the Cheese Plate I had chosen over Fresh Fruits and Fruit Gâteau with Passion fruit Cream served with Raspberry Sauce arrived, Mel Gibson was just beginning to believe that there was indeed something wrong with his maize. I skipped the obligatory pralines, the coffee and the tea, covered myself with a blanket 200 miles west of Urumqi and when I woke up again over Minsk with an urgent need, I blamed it on the stress of the past two weeks and wondered if late-night beef really did cause insomnia. Of course I had no idea what Mel Gibson did believe or not by then, buy I decided to find out over breakfast. I rose, and did what every health guide for the discerning traveller tells you. I walked all the way up to the empty first class section (there was not a single soul in first. Oddly enough, when I had booked the flight two months ago, first had shown sold out. I will never understand the intricacies of airline booking systems). I also walked back to what is frequently called cattle class on this board, which of course must refer to other, less fabulous airlines. I’d travel Y on CX anytime – it looks elegant and comfy. The plane was maybe 2/3 full, and people were stirring after what looked like a good night’s sleep. Passengers were about half Asian, half Caucasian, with the Asians – many of them presumably from the Chinese persuasion – filling the rear sections, while most of the Caucasians sat in the lower thirties. I also spotted a few Japanese, Indian, maybe Koreans, three black and a number of Middle Eastern looking faces, evenly distributed. I have notices this in the past, that front Y is white and back Y is Asian, a fact I attribute to the fact that package tours seem to fill up the plane from the back. On many CX flights I have observed grandpa and grandma Kwok with a “Phoenix Tour” sticker in 66AC.

I walked back “up” – and it really felt like “up” – to my seat, and when I checked the air show, we had just climbed from 31500 feet over Minsk to 38000 feet. The lights went on, and breakfast ensued. It always does surprise me that after a full dinner and a night’s sleep I can still feel hungry when I smell the morning bacon (of which I had little, sticking instead to two hot and crunchy Croissants – look here Lufthansa – that’s how you keep bread warm and fresh!). I settled back in my seat, forwarded Mel Gibson to his first accident memories, and chose the Scrambled Eggs with Cottage Cheese on English muffin. The breakfast included Fresh Fruits, Juices, Yoghurt, Muesli, Corn Flakes, the already mentioned eggs, Mini Glutinous Rice Dumpling, a fine selection of Dim Sum with Chilli Sauce, a platter of Cold Cuts with Cheese, “accompanied” by Grilled Breakfast Steak, Fried Potatoes, Broiled Tomato with Herbs, and Button Mushrooms. My simple order of eggs on muffin was lovingly decorated by a girl from the breakfast crew with a mushroom and the tiniest slice of tomato (I had ordered no “accompaniments”. I have already mentioned my dismay with Lufthansa’s continuously stale bread, but to say it again in full clarity: the croissants were as fresh as they can be, fresh from a French bakery oven, and melted on my tongue together with d’Arbo’s Apricot comfiture.

Roundabout happy, after they tray had been removed, I cleaned myself up in the bathroom (I’ll spare you the details), ordered some duty free, half of which they were out of – including most lamentably the new Miracle scent – and finished Mel Gibson’s pointless endeavour to penetrate the deeper intellectual layers of my cerebrum. All made finally sense to him exactly 3 minutes before we touched down at Schiphol in misty weather and 2 degrees. A short taxiway to the gate ended this absolutely perfect flight, and disembarking was so swift that I barely had time to hand my dutifully completed questionnaire to the crew. In the end, the only item that was not “TOTALLY SATISFACTORY” was a problem with the Comedy Audio channel, which kept disappearing intermittently. But then again, Mr. Sinfeld is not an absolute must for the perfect CX experience, which I do believe this flight has offered me. Merry X-Mas and Happy Hanukah, fellow travellers.