I woke up reasonably early - early enough for breakfast which was delivered shortly after I woke up.
Breakfast table
Danish
Smoothie
The smoothie whist not knocking me awake seemed to tasty enough, whist the Danish - well it was better than an US Airways Danish pastry - although lets face it that’s setting the bar rather low.
I skipped cereal (I’m not a hot fan of cereals anyway) and went straight onto the the main breakfast.
Breakfast. Lots of Pork products...
Salt and Pepper sachets? How economy.
The breakfast itself was very edible - nothing burnt to a crisp and everything tasting as it should - the sausage was well cooked, the bacon was edible without being rubbery, and the omelette resembled and omelette. The potato hash also worked well too.
So sadly, it seems to get a decent breakfast across the pond, I have to fly Business Class - or I propose setting up a bacon sandwich van on the Heathrow Approach road so those who suffer a crap Y class breakfast stand a chance of edible bacon, bread and whatever condiment you love on your bacon roll.
As the breakfast service was being complete, I had a chat with the cabin crew who had another hunt with me for the phone, and advised me to stay in my seat upon landing so they could have a dig for it.
Meanwhile around me, window blinds were going up showing another blue sky morning with lots of fluffy clouds below the plane
Meanwhile you can see these little planes do go through the ways, with wear and tear showing on these birds sadly - it’s a fact of life, but its a shame to see rough treatment like this:
Note the console has some of the silver scratched off
The floor has also seen better days sadly
Soon enough, the pilot gave a 40 minute warning allowing people to get ready for landing, and then the 20 minute warning. Seemly, the seatbelt on 3A decided to embed itself in the seat, so I shifted to 3B for the landing procedures
Crossing Father Thames
A quiet Olympic Park after the action of the games.
With a bit of power and a bit of zealous braking our little Airbus A318 touched down after its long journey across the Atlantic.
Down and turning off the active
The plane parked up outside gate 24, and the bongs went. I packed my stuff away as the crew came around to inspect the site and help me fish out the phone.This took a few minutes and finally I was told to head to the terminal where I would be reunited with my phone. As I headed for the exit of the plane, the engineer had fished out the phone and it was recovered. I gratefully accepted the phone and thanked all the crew profusely and headed the steps.
Where I think I gave a 30 people the shock of their life.
Allow me to elaborate. The backpack wasn't particularly balanced on my back, and in the rush to get off so the bus could head to the terminal, I slipped on the air stairs, slipping down the by a few steps and introducing a fair few swearwords into the London City Lexicon.
Thankfully all I damaged was my pride. The worst part was - I wasn't drunk in the least.
I tried to hide as I got on the bus to the terminal by the door. That failed spectacularly.
Overall: The sleeper service from JFK to London allowed me to do that: Sleep in comfort. The service whilst not as personal as the outbound flight suited the service perfectly as the only thing you want to do on this service is collapse in your own little world - and only to wake up near enough arrival as possible. The crew did a great job both in the air and especially on the ground when they rescued my phone from the jaws of a hungry seat. I just wish the airstairs aren't so slippery sometimes...