I don’t know about you, but I still look forward to every trip. Not sure what it is. Can’t quite put my finger on it.
In the immortal words of Ralph Waldo Emerson “Its not about the destination, its about the journey”
Actually, I think that's on the side of my Viagra bottle.
Never mind.
Those of you who fly a lot out of DEN and are captive to UA like me, will know that the Denver Airport has recently upgraded the WEST security checkpoint. And the whole joint is undergoing a massive upgrade.
Let’s talk about the largest airfield by land mass in the Western hemisphere for a minute.
DEN is growing like a weed.
In order to cater to this growth, the City of Denver and the business looking people who run the airport all had a meeting to talk about the “strategic plan”. No one knew what a strategic plan quite was but they all felt jolly good about having a meeting and watching a wonderful 436 slide presentation by some pimply faced MBA weenie from one of those Big 6 Consulting firms.
Expansion was needed. And needed quickly.
So they did the only logical thing and awarded the “Great Hall” renovation project to a company in Barcelona. Because well, this made perfect sense.
As you would expect, the Spanish waved their arms a lot and thought if their team couldn’t have siestas in the middle of the afternoon and have a tapas bar installed onsite, they would quit in disgust.
The “Great Hall” project quickly turned into the “Great Disaster” and once someone from accounting started to add up all the Amex bills, the Spaniards were nowhere to be seen and every Denver counselor was hiding under their couch.
Because this is America, the amount of money peed up against the wall was in the billions. As in real money. As in Go Big Or Go Home.
So the City did what a lot of cities do in a time of crisis.
They hired another consulting firm.
A fresh gaggle of MBA weenies all decided after holding hands and singing the national anthem of Uzbekistan that no one from the city could possibly be to blame and pointed the finger at the janitor.
The city then demanded an inquiry and promised to give the people behind this Mile High fiasco a damn good thrashing when they found them.
And then they had to hire another construction company. This time, they made sure the company had people who actually lived in Colorado. Another meeting was held and another prepubescent MBA person gave another 436 slide presentation as to why this new builder wouldn’t run away.
Quite why, but someone decided to put security up on Level 6 - the departures level. So now you check in, and then proceed to the latest thing since sliced bread in terms of security.
TSA promised to “transform” the security experience.
But the only thing they have transformed is your ability to be patient and now you have this burning desire to go set fire to something. Like the TSA Managers office. And his home. And his ski lodge in Aspen. In short it’s a bit of a cluster.
I’ve only been through it 3 times. The first time the Clear line was about as useful as a screen door on a submarine and the second time, the queues snaked all around the top floor. It was mayhem. The Clear people all ran away, and the TSA people were looking at each other in the same way a teenager looks at their mother when she asks what’s that dreadful smell coming from their bedroom…
Completely hopeless.
Apparently, according to one of these 13 year old consultants the airport hired, the airport construction should be finished by 2180. You know you’re in trouble when Newark is miles ahead as an airport.
My colleague and I stumbled into the GS room at DEN and the wonderfully helpful GS angel told us about a quick way thru security. The short cut is sitting in front of everyone’s face yet no one hardly uses it. We were through in 7 mins, despite the ridiculously long queues of people winding their way down Pena boulevard.
Quick trip to O’Hare and from there the French Connection to Paris.
Can I just say this.
That Delta Sky club at the international terminal at ORD is a bloody cracker. What a great space. Love the tall ceilings, the decor, the food isn’t bad and I didn’t even mind paying for my own drinks at the bar. That's when you know you’re in a Delta lounge. Everything is billable and even the bathrooms have Amex applications in case you get bored sitting on the throne and want something to do.
The main doors to the loos even have a swipe function and they will open automatically.
Apparently Big Ed from Delta didn’t want to interrupt a person completing their 13th card application and convinced the hapless execs from Amex to pay for these flashy contraptions.
Unlike my previous trip on AF to Paris, I was pleased to be on the new AF seat. The one with the door on it.
The crew decided that everyone should have champagne so within minutes of settling in, I was given a real glass with real champagne in it (UA, please take note!) Then the following announcement by the Captain…(say it out loud in your best french accent)
“Ladies and Gentlemen this is your Captain speaking. I would like to inform you that we are having a slight problem with the toilettes and the sucker machine is broken so please don’t go do Number One or Number 2 in there until we have taken off and reached 16,000 feet”
I’m seriously not making this up.
Quite what happens at 16,000 feet is beyond me.
Then he must have not clicked off his mic because then you heard…
“You fool Hercule, why did you insist on eating that El Grande Burrito last night at the hotel. I told you nothing good would come of it. Now you’ve gone and clogged up all the toilettes”
Ok, I made that bit up.
But seriously - we’re all sitting there chugging champagne and then being told we can’t pee. Or worse. I don’t know about you, but as I’ve gotten older, my bladder is about as good at holding liquid as my sister is at keeping a secret.
There was an elderly lady sitting across the row from me and she mentioned to one of the AF crew people that “Shouldn’t we deplane and have someone come fix the bathrooms?”
The FA looked at the woman, tilted her head in pity and then said in a calm voice, “Madam, this is Air France, we’re not delaying the flight because Hercule clogged the crapper”
At least I think that's what she said.
And that was it.
We pushed back, everyone was told to cross their legs and the electric jet lifted off into the darkness bound for the French capital, with Hercules burrito stuck somewhere in the bowels of the planes plumbing…
Thankfully the rest of the flight was uneventful. My buddy who had never flown AF before, thought the whole experience was wonderful.