DME Transit

Plane spotting was interesting on the way to the gate was interesting, as there were many types of aircraft we don’t see in the states. The ones I could identify were the IL-62 and the AN-142, which were parked in far remote positions. Given the spotty safety record of Russian built aircraft, perhaps it was a good thing none were parked at a gate, although aviation geek in me wants just one flight on one of them. One flight can’t hurt, right?

The taxi itself was relatively short, but we ended up holding for a few minutes just short of the gate as an El Al 767-300 was being pushed back. FAs headed toward the exit to do a curtain block as soon the plane came to a stop, since the gate was only equipped with a single jet bridge. I thanked the crew, and went on my merry way.

As I stepped into the jet bridge, I was hit by a wall of cool crisp air, a welcome reprieve from the scorching Texas summer and hot and humid Hong Kong. Unfortunately, the relief was short lived as I entered into the hot and stuffy terminal of Domodedovo Airport. After walking through a bit of maze, I finally reached the transit point. The first stop was at a podium manned by a guy around the age of 20. Wordlessly, he motioned for me to hand over my passport and boarding pass stub. He handed them back to me along with a card he had scribbled something on, and I moved on to the next station, where an equally as personable woman examined my passport. I should probably note at this time, I’m not one of those Americans who expect everyone in the world to speak English. A smile and polite nod would have gone a long way.

In contrast to the first two, the security screeners were far more personable. Just like their American comrades, they were jovially making announcements about shoes, laptops, jackets, etc. But on the positive side, there weren’t any imaging machines. Since I was one of the first passengers to arrive at the check point, I was through quickly, but not before an extra special pat down by one of the agents. Unlike the US, there were no calls for “male assist”. The nice Russian lady told me step aside and assume the position, and sent on my way after she was satisfied.

Seeing how crowded the terminal was, I immediately set off in search of the lounge. Ok, I’m really getting spoiled now. Just wait until you have to fly whY again, I thought. Oh well, I’ll worry about it then. Anyways, no directions were given to the lounge while I was on board by the purser, so I set out to find it by myself. I spotted the Swiss lounge not too far from the SQ gate, so naturally I thought “I’m on a Star Alliance First Flight, that’s a Star Alliance lounge, that’s where I belong.” Oh man was I wrong. As soon I set foot and the lounge and showed my boarding pass, the dragon started yelling no, repeatedly, all the while doing a lot of arm waving. So I asked the dragon if she knew where the SQ lounge was and she replied “up”. Ok…

I did the whole walk of shame thing, which was all of 6 feet, but I still felt the burn from the eyes of the HONs and Senators for disturbing their sanctuary. For that I am truly sorry. But think of it as a little excitement in the otherwise small and boring lounge

I did notice a set of stairs leading to the second level across from the gate, but at that point I was a bit tired and wanted to board as soon as possible. So I decided to stretch my legs a bit to wait for the gate to open. It was a bit of chore given the sheer volume of people, all of whom had the same idea as me as well as crap load of carry ons.


The crowds at DME

The gate finally opened about 50 minutes before departure. I must have looked pretty shady, as the one of the guardians of the gate ordered me to follow an agent for secondary screening. The agent, a chap who looked no older than twenty, led me to this partitioned off area of the gate and proceeded to unpack a device that had an uncanny resemblance to a Geiger counter. With a thin smile and a very apologetic look, he motioned for me remain standing, attached this gauze looking pad to a plastic wand, and proceeded to “swab” me. While this wasn’t the most pleasant interaction in the world in addition to obvious language barrier, the smile did go a long way in mollifying my annoyance. It can’t be pleasant for him, either. After determining I was a good guy, I was free to go.

I headed over to the partitioned area marked for First and Business Class and presented my boarding pass stub and presented my boarding pass stub to the SQ agent at the entrance. After a glance, he looked puzzled and asked if I received a lounge invitation. Huh? I had my passport in my hand at the time in which I had tucked the card given to me at the transit checkpoint. The agent spotted it and explained it was my lounge invite. D’oh! That’s why two different people “checked” my passport. Since it was getting close to boarding time, I decided to chill at the departure lounge.

The partition was actually quite nice, as it was close to the boarding door and the agents did a good job of allowing only eligible passengers, so it was kinda sorta private. Soon, our crew arrived and headed to aircraft to make the final preparations for departure.



You can see from the above picture that it was just me and crew for a while in the First/Business Class section, until an American family arrived shortly after the crew boarded. I took advantage of this time on the ground to catch on Facebook, emails, and texts. Soon, the gate agents were calling for preboards followed by First and Business Class passengers. After glancing at my boarding pass stub, the lovely blonde agent smiled and wished me pleasant flight and I was on my way.