A Very Eightblack Christmas...
Dec 17, 2011, 11:50 pm
#17
Join Date: Oct 2009
Location: Somewhere over the rainbow
Programs: Airline Free Agent, Bonvoy Platinum, Hyatt Globalist
Posts: 3,812
Dec 18, 2011, 12:32 am
#18
Join Date: Jan 2004
Location: SYD+TYO+GFK
Programs: UA 1K, QF Plat, VA Gold, IHG Spire Ambassador, Hilton Diamond, Marriott Gold, Coles FlyBuys
Posts: 2,805
I, for once, am staying in Sydney. Why travel this Christmas when I can live vicariously through eightblack?
And, because I never got around to booking anything.
And, because I never got around to booking anything.
Dec 18, 2011, 12:38 am
#19
Moderator, Trip Reports
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2009
Location: Denver, CO
Programs: UA GS-2MM, Marriott Ambassador
Posts: 3,715
I don't know if you've ever flown Thai, but there is just something elusive about them. I cant quite put my finger on it. In a weird way, I think they're even better than SQ. Less robotic. More mystique.
When I started to plan for this trip, obviously I crawled over FT and the Thai forum. Then I made the mistake of asking my local FT buddies, who think I am a silly old fool. They kept telling me I should have been on the leased Jet Airways birds rather than the 4-engined Airbus I'm sitting on now. But you know what - this is fine place to be. Service could not be better. There's only 5 out of 8 of us here. I'd even go as far to say that the crew have even been better than my beloved Bling Air.
When we landed in BKK from our flight from SIN, there was a very officious woman standing there with a sign with our names on it.
Son turned to me and said, "Dad what have you done now….?"
"Nothing", I replied innocently enough.
The impatient women then ushered us onto a Thai golf cart and we charged off down the terminal, in pursuit of the F lounge. Son thought this was the dogs bollocks.
Every time I travel with junior I tell him things have been tough at work lately and we are flying down the back. I apologize and hang my head in shame and then try and make my bottom lip quiver. This used to work when he was 8. But now he's 11 he's wised up to his old man. Now he simply grabs the boarding passes, looks at the seat number and then proceeds to tell me where the best lounge is in the airport were in.
We may as well address this issue right here and now. Kids in F.
To be honest, I didn't give it much thought when I booked the tickets up the pointy end for both of us. It's been a bugger of a year travel wise, in the fact that I have spent just about every week on a plane. Part of being a true FT'er (I think) is making trips like this work. Purchase US Air miles during a promo. Burn UA miles. Mix it all together and voila - travel in a class of service which I would never personally pay for. Nor could I afford. And besides, I wasn't going to sit in the middle if I could sit in a bigger seat and…
Never mind.
Part of what I love about travel (and still do) is people watching. Take this flight for example. There's an elderly Italian couple, immaculately dressed and who behaved like civilized humans and shared meals with each other. Each F seat has an ottoman which can be used for another person, so two people can eat at the one table.
Then there's the guy in 1A. A silver haired man of his years who has slept in the upright position for the entire flight. Not eaten a thing. Alcohol has not passed his lips. Every time I walk past him, there he is, vertical in his seat. Hasn't moved an inch. Maybe he died during the flight and the crew are simply too polite to interrupt him. I have no idea.
The IFE is telling me that we have 45-mins to go. The pilot has just come on and said that we'll be landing at o'dark hundred and that it will be balmy 1 degree celsius (or a whisker over 32 F). Man oh man a chevy, I cant wait.
To be honest, I have no idea what were going to do in Italy for 5-days. In Milan, we're staying at the Crowne Plaza. Near the airport. Got a 5000 PB deal via PC. Then were going to jump on a high-speed train and head to Florence for a couple of days. I found a great B&B. But then again, my track record with B&B's isn't that great. Time will tell.
All number one son has said is that he wants to buy some soccer jerseys with the names of some crazy italians who play for AC Milan on them.
Before the trip, I kept telling junior that this was adventure training. And it is. Nothing goes to plan in Italy. I mean nothing. So I thought why bother trying to set things in stone as far as itineraries go. Besides, the child is 11. All he cares about is what are we eating for dinner (pizza or pasta every night is his idea of 5-star eating). And some place to plug in his arsenal of Apple equipment.
We've just checked in at the CP. Don't rush to put this property on your hotel bucket list...
I need a wash and a lie down...
Be back soon.
When I started to plan for this trip, obviously I crawled over FT and the Thai forum. Then I made the mistake of asking my local FT buddies, who think I am a silly old fool. They kept telling me I should have been on the leased Jet Airways birds rather than the 4-engined Airbus I'm sitting on now. But you know what - this is fine place to be. Service could not be better. There's only 5 out of 8 of us here. I'd even go as far to say that the crew have even been better than my beloved Bling Air.
When we landed in BKK from our flight from SIN, there was a very officious woman standing there with a sign with our names on it.
Son turned to me and said, "Dad what have you done now….?"
"Nothing", I replied innocently enough.
The impatient women then ushered us onto a Thai golf cart and we charged off down the terminal, in pursuit of the F lounge. Son thought this was the dogs bollocks.
Every time I travel with junior I tell him things have been tough at work lately and we are flying down the back. I apologize and hang my head in shame and then try and make my bottom lip quiver. This used to work when he was 8. But now he's 11 he's wised up to his old man. Now he simply grabs the boarding passes, looks at the seat number and then proceeds to tell me where the best lounge is in the airport were in.
We may as well address this issue right here and now. Kids in F.
To be honest, I didn't give it much thought when I booked the tickets up the pointy end for both of us. It's been a bugger of a year travel wise, in the fact that I have spent just about every week on a plane. Part of being a true FT'er (I think) is making trips like this work. Purchase US Air miles during a promo. Burn UA miles. Mix it all together and voila - travel in a class of service which I would never personally pay for. Nor could I afford. And besides, I wasn't going to sit in the middle if I could sit in a bigger seat and…
Never mind.
Part of what I love about travel (and still do) is people watching. Take this flight for example. There's an elderly Italian couple, immaculately dressed and who behaved like civilized humans and shared meals with each other. Each F seat has an ottoman which can be used for another person, so two people can eat at the one table.
Then there's the guy in 1A. A silver haired man of his years who has slept in the upright position for the entire flight. Not eaten a thing. Alcohol has not passed his lips. Every time I walk past him, there he is, vertical in his seat. Hasn't moved an inch. Maybe he died during the flight and the crew are simply too polite to interrupt him. I have no idea.
The IFE is telling me that we have 45-mins to go. The pilot has just come on and said that we'll be landing at o'dark hundred and that it will be balmy 1 degree celsius (or a whisker over 32 F). Man oh man a chevy, I cant wait.
To be honest, I have no idea what were going to do in Italy for 5-days. In Milan, we're staying at the Crowne Plaza. Near the airport. Got a 5000 PB deal via PC. Then were going to jump on a high-speed train and head to Florence for a couple of days. I found a great B&B. But then again, my track record with B&B's isn't that great. Time will tell.
All number one son has said is that he wants to buy some soccer jerseys with the names of some crazy italians who play for AC Milan on them.
Before the trip, I kept telling junior that this was adventure training. And it is. Nothing goes to plan in Italy. I mean nothing. So I thought why bother trying to set things in stone as far as itineraries go. Besides, the child is 11. All he cares about is what are we eating for dinner (pizza or pasta every night is his idea of 5-star eating). And some place to plug in his arsenal of Apple equipment.
We've just checked in at the CP. Don't rush to put this property on your hotel bucket list...
I need a wash and a lie down...
Be back soon.
Dec 18, 2011, 7:25 am
#22
FlyerTalk Evangelist
Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: Denver • DEN-APA
Programs: AF Platinum, EK Gold, AA EXP, UA 1K, Hyatt Globalist
Posts: 21,602
I'm laughing so hard this morning that I'm afraid Mrs. SFO, sleeping two floors away, is going to wake up. Absolutely classic. Can't wait for the next chapter.
Dec 18, 2011, 7:56 am
#23
Moderator, Trip Reports
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2009
Location: Denver, CO
Programs: UA GS-2MM, Marriott Ambassador
Posts: 3,715
Maybe I am losing it in my old age.
So there we were. Airside at Malpensa. The Immigration queue, although intimidating, didn't take that long. Principally because the Italians don't really care who comes and goes. As long as they keep coming. And going. And spending Euros.
Sadly though, a plane load of people disembarked from a China Eastern flight right before we did, so the arrivals hall was chaos.
Once we cleared immigration, it was typical Italy. A lot of arm waving. A lot of yelling. And this was by the Asian tourists. The actual airport staff were all outside smoking. Or sleeping. Or drinking espresso.
I told number one son to wait while I grabbed the bags. He obeyed. I then went in search for a trolley. Then it went pear shaped. Those blooming Italians charge you the princely sum of 1 Euro to use their carts. I only had notes. Went to the Bureau De Change. Rather unhelpful Italian woman refused to break a 50 euro note. Then I offered her Singapore Dollars. She laughed. Said that they charge 17% commission and I would receive around 4 euros. I told her to politely stick her exchange rate up her bottom and stormed off.
Son sensed a parental implosion and started to rope off the area around us. The F word was flowing freely at this point.
I know I'm being all melodramatic, but for effs sake, why charge arriving tourists one euro to push a cart 100 feet. Makes no sense.
Then, by some miracle, a cart appeared right beside us. No one claimed ownership - but I didn't wait too long to find out. Loaded our bags and off we went.
I needed coffee. Son decided to stuff his face with Pringles. We had time, as the shuttle to the CP wasn't departing for another 15-minutes.
As I mentioned a little earlier, you wouldn't rush to put the Malpensa CP on your hotel wish list. I mean, its ok. But when an 11-year old walks into the room and yells out that his father, is in fact, a cheap Alpha Sierra Sierra, then it's time to take note. The rooms are small, but perfectly adequate. Son took one look at the size of the TV and started looking for the hotel feedback form. Then he spied the bidet in the bathroom.
"What's that?"
"It's for washing your bum"
"Really?"
"Yes"
"Why?"
"It's a European thing"
"Where's the buttons to drive it?"
"It's not Japanese, its European"
"Do we have to use it?"
"No"
"Good, lets not touch it. It looks dangerous"
We go downstairs and decide to catch the train into Milan. Easy enough task. Which it was. We jump back on the airport shuttle, head back to the airport and then down one level to the train station. I love train travel. Especially in Europe. And Italy isn't bad - I mean these guys have it worked out. Not quite German. But close. I thought I should try and inject some culture into the small human with me so as soon as we hit the city, we hoof it towards the Duomo.
From the square, it is a remarkable sight. A truly magnificent building. I sort of stand there and do the "Voila, here it is" arm flourish type of thing. Son looks at me and says that he is hungry and then asks do they serve food inside.
I proceed to tell him that no, Italy's largest cathedral probably doesn't have a Burger King and that he should be more respectful of a building which took 6 centuries to build. He rolls his eyes.
We go inside. Then we turn right. And we go back outside. Took all of 30-seconds.
"Is that it, is that all you were prepared to look at?" I say rather incredulously
"Seen one church, seen em all", Number One Son says matter of factly
"Right then, we flew 6500 miles for that then" I quip
"Stop whining, were off to the sports store up the road"
"Where?"
"Back up the road"
"We are?"
"Yes, hurry up and get a move on…"
So minutes later, we're in a sports store and the boy is talking to the staff about some weird guy called Alexandre Pato. I thought I would be a nice Dad and offer to buy him the 2 shirts he wanted. The extremely helpful staff even offer to put the name of the sports megastar on the back of one of the shirts. For free. I think how pleasant.
Then an immaculately dressed man behind the counter presents me the bill. I look at it and scream out the F word in shock. Again. People stop what they are doing and all look to me. There must be some sort of mistake I plead.
The man smiles, feigning zero English skills.
Son tells the whole store that we are staying at the CP Malpensa Airport and that in fact, I am a cheap Alpha Sierra Sierra. The rest of the customers in the store all nod in sympathy with my son and go back about their business.
So that was Milan. We ate at a very touristy restaurant and caught the train back to the hotel.
Tomorrow, we're heading to Modena. Apparently, some guy called Guido will take you on a tour of the Ferrari factory. You basically hand him a wad of Euros, and he and his cousin pick you up in a mangled Fiat Punto and their version of a factory tour is driving around the perimeter of the red car factory, hurling abuse at anyone who gets in their way. You don't actually go in. I think you visit the staff canteen. And get to buy more horrendously expensive merchandise.
Or something like this.
I may not make it to the end of the week. But will do my best.
Ciao for now...
So there we were. Airside at Malpensa. The Immigration queue, although intimidating, didn't take that long. Principally because the Italians don't really care who comes and goes. As long as they keep coming. And going. And spending Euros.
Sadly though, a plane load of people disembarked from a China Eastern flight right before we did, so the arrivals hall was chaos.
Once we cleared immigration, it was typical Italy. A lot of arm waving. A lot of yelling. And this was by the Asian tourists. The actual airport staff were all outside smoking. Or sleeping. Or drinking espresso.
I told number one son to wait while I grabbed the bags. He obeyed. I then went in search for a trolley. Then it went pear shaped. Those blooming Italians charge you the princely sum of 1 Euro to use their carts. I only had notes. Went to the Bureau De Change. Rather unhelpful Italian woman refused to break a 50 euro note. Then I offered her Singapore Dollars. She laughed. Said that they charge 17% commission and I would receive around 4 euros. I told her to politely stick her exchange rate up her bottom and stormed off.
Son sensed a parental implosion and started to rope off the area around us. The F word was flowing freely at this point.
I know I'm being all melodramatic, but for effs sake, why charge arriving tourists one euro to push a cart 100 feet. Makes no sense.
Then, by some miracle, a cart appeared right beside us. No one claimed ownership - but I didn't wait too long to find out. Loaded our bags and off we went.
I needed coffee. Son decided to stuff his face with Pringles. We had time, as the shuttle to the CP wasn't departing for another 15-minutes.
As I mentioned a little earlier, you wouldn't rush to put the Malpensa CP on your hotel wish list. I mean, its ok. But when an 11-year old walks into the room and yells out that his father, is in fact, a cheap Alpha Sierra Sierra, then it's time to take note. The rooms are small, but perfectly adequate. Son took one look at the size of the TV and started looking for the hotel feedback form. Then he spied the bidet in the bathroom.
"What's that?"
"It's for washing your bum"
"Really?"
"Yes"
"Why?"
"It's a European thing"
"Where's the buttons to drive it?"
"It's not Japanese, its European"
"Do we have to use it?"
"No"
"Good, lets not touch it. It looks dangerous"
We go downstairs and decide to catch the train into Milan. Easy enough task. Which it was. We jump back on the airport shuttle, head back to the airport and then down one level to the train station. I love train travel. Especially in Europe. And Italy isn't bad - I mean these guys have it worked out. Not quite German. But close. I thought I should try and inject some culture into the small human with me so as soon as we hit the city, we hoof it towards the Duomo.
From the square, it is a remarkable sight. A truly magnificent building. I sort of stand there and do the "Voila, here it is" arm flourish type of thing. Son looks at me and says that he is hungry and then asks do they serve food inside.
I proceed to tell him that no, Italy's largest cathedral probably doesn't have a Burger King and that he should be more respectful of a building which took 6 centuries to build. He rolls his eyes.
We go inside. Then we turn right. And we go back outside. Took all of 30-seconds.
"Is that it, is that all you were prepared to look at?" I say rather incredulously
"Seen one church, seen em all", Number One Son says matter of factly
"Right then, we flew 6500 miles for that then" I quip
"Stop whining, were off to the sports store up the road"
"Where?"
"Back up the road"
"We are?"
"Yes, hurry up and get a move on…"
So minutes later, we're in a sports store and the boy is talking to the staff about some weird guy called Alexandre Pato. I thought I would be a nice Dad and offer to buy him the 2 shirts he wanted. The extremely helpful staff even offer to put the name of the sports megastar on the back of one of the shirts. For free. I think how pleasant.
Then an immaculately dressed man behind the counter presents me the bill. I look at it and scream out the F word in shock. Again. People stop what they are doing and all look to me. There must be some sort of mistake I plead.
The man smiles, feigning zero English skills.
Son tells the whole store that we are staying at the CP Malpensa Airport and that in fact, I am a cheap Alpha Sierra Sierra. The rest of the customers in the store all nod in sympathy with my son and go back about their business.
So that was Milan. We ate at a very touristy restaurant and caught the train back to the hotel.
Tomorrow, we're heading to Modena. Apparently, some guy called Guido will take you on a tour of the Ferrari factory. You basically hand him a wad of Euros, and he and his cousin pick you up in a mangled Fiat Punto and their version of a factory tour is driving around the perimeter of the red car factory, hurling abuse at anyone who gets in their way. You don't actually go in. I think you visit the staff canteen. And get to buy more horrendously expensive merchandise.
Or something like this.
I may not make it to the end of the week. But will do my best.
Ciao for now...
Dec 18, 2011, 10:36 am
#25
Moderator, Trip Reports
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2009
Location: Denver, CO
Programs: UA GS-2MM, Marriott Ambassador
Posts: 3,715
Here until Friday....come and join us for spaghetti....
Yes boss. I realise that...but you need to be aware that 11-year olds are now built a little differently than the old days. They have one's and zero's wired into their DNA...
WanderLuster, you are too kind. Are you sure we haven't met? Are you sure you would't like to meet. I am house trained
No I burst that bubble a year or two ago. He wasn't impressed. Either was his younger sister. Man, did I get in trouble for that...
It was your dinner that tipped me over. Actually kidding. It wasn't. If my doctor told me to stop eating cheese I'd simply find another doctor.
Dec 18, 2011, 10:43 am
#27
Join Date: Mar 2009
Location: London
Programs: BA CCR/GGL, Hilton Diamond
Posts: 3,483
Thanks to Yahillwe for signposting this on the BA website, otherwise I wouldn't have found this gem of a TR (so far!!).
Happy Christmas to Eightblack and family (my brother-in-law is an Italian lawyer based in Rome if things get really bad!) and to Yahillwe and family (let me know when you'd like the next London drinks to be!).
Happy Christmas to Eightblack and family (my brother-in-law is an Italian lawyer based in Rome if things get really bad!) and to Yahillwe and family (let me know when you'd like the next London drinks to be!).
Dec 18, 2011, 11:26 am
#28
Join Date: Nov 2009
Location: Trenton, NJ (PHL, EWR)
Programs: A3 Gold, BA Bronze
Posts: 1,633
Please stop writing trip reports and making everyone else look bad. Thank you.
Sincerely,
Flyertalkers Everywhere
Love these reports. I think everyone who's ever thought of writing a trip report aspires to write theirs like yours. I'm still stuck aspiring to keep the alcohol intake below the point where I forget all the funny anecdotes of my trips. I tried to take notes on my last trip...legibility was an issue. I blame the CX FAs in F. Sometimes an empty glass does not need to be refilled.*
*That is a lie.
Sincerely,
Flyertalkers Everywhere
Love these reports. I think everyone who's ever thought of writing a trip report aspires to write theirs like yours. I'm still stuck aspiring to keep the alcohol intake below the point where I forget all the funny anecdotes of my trips. I tried to take notes on my last trip...legibility was an issue. I blame the CX FAs in F. Sometimes an empty glass does not need to be refilled.*
*That is a lie.