UA 981 BOS IAD 1510 1702 [actual 1702 1819] 733 2A

I looked out the window and saw the mess and thought
of trying for the 11:57, but I was too comfy sitting home
and figured the airline would reaccommodate me, so I
decided I'd try for the 2:00 CRJ - winds were supposed to
be pretty hairy beginning around then, but maybe they'd
let it go. Got to the airport at 1:15, where they told
me the 2:00 had been cancelled; you could just begin to
hear the wind whistling in the terminal - not a surprise
as I could hardly get out the door of the apartment a few
miles north; and the 3:10 was on decision (the UA website
still said leaving on time). The Globe website showed gusts
of 68 mph. Sat in my little nest in the work cubicles
of the RCC, making periodic forays for snacks and to look
for bright yellow tags; Elmhurst Nick was supposed to be
there, but I am willing to bet that his plans were scotched
by weather as well. I got myself confirmed on an additional
connection just in case.

Eventually the club announced boarding, and I hightailed it
out to find that my row, 2AB was empty, but my overhead
was full, as were all the overheads in F. So I put my
rollaboard in the first row of Y, which must have thrilled
the denizens.

We took off two hours late and landed 1 hr 15 late; still,
it would have been impossible to make the connection, except
that the connection too was on decision (announcement by the
FA on this flight, in the midst of a bunch of other gate
information) owing to the autopilot being inop (announcement
by the pilot on UA 918 later). There were also 25 passengers
trying to make the 6:30 Sao Paulo, which luckily for them
was leaving from D3; we arrived at D5, and they all
apparently made it. A bumpy flight; in anticipation of that,
the friendly FA gave me a Courvoisier to nurse (in a plastic
glass); we smoothed out over Pennsylvania, though, and they
did a full drink service. The FAs were pretty good. Almost
all of us made way for the 825 crowd to debark (and the FAs
kept count! - those in F were itching to go, and the purser
said, "only one left to go," and we held back). Out into
the ugliness of Concourse D at Dulles.

First news on 918 was an 8:30 decision, then it was said
that a replacement part was being flown in from Chicago,
and it would be on a 9:30 decision.

Right by gate C5 is Vino Volo, a tapas and wine bar that
I recently read about in one of the magazines. As I wasn't
getting on a United flight any time soon, I defected to a
flight of Pinot Noirs, which included (these are their
descriptions, my notes in brackets) -

De-fin-i-tive Sonoma 04
This Pinot Noir is full of fruit flavors and aromas such
as strawberry jam, blackberries [check] and ripe red
apple [check]. The complexity comes from vanilla [check],
cola [check], and baking spices [?]. These flavors come
together to create a RICH wine drinking experience [kinda].
[Got that CA honey-beeswax quality B-/C+]

Amisfield Central Otago 03
This RICH wine shows how successful New Zealand has
become in creating world class Pinot Noirs. Flavors and
aromas of dark wild strawberries, plums [check] and
raspberry jam [check] combine with smooth, oaky vanilla
[some], fennel seed [??], cola [?], and sassafras [X]
notes. [Soap, soy sauce; best balance of the lot; a tad
sweetness on finish; some of that acidity that I find
unpleasant in many New Zealand wines. The best of the
bunch, though, B+]

Dom. Thierry Mortet Bourgogne Cote de Nuits 03
This Red Burgundy has subtle aromas and flavors of violets
[check], preserved cherries [x] and dried strawberries
[check], with a touch of allspice [?] in the finish. We
consider this a LIGHT [definitely] wine. [-> acid
predominates; little sweetness; "meaty" C+]

Alongside I had small plates of the chickpea and sausage
stew (rather spicy) and black lentils with smoked Niman
Ranch bacon (quite delicate, almost underseasoned). Then
went off to prospect for drinks at the RCC. C7 didn't
have any phones free for my e-mail, so I immediately
headed to the one at C17, which was kind of empty.
(They gave me only one drink coupon at each, but that's
not such a big deal, and I didn't fuss.) They announced
boarding shortly after 9, so I hiked out to C3 and was
actually one of the last to board (not a full flight, and
I bet a lot of people decided to go with the newer aircraft
sitting next door). I had a reservation on 924 as well and
thought long and hard, deciding that experiencing the past
was more interesting to me at this point than living in
the present. So the 747 it was.

UA 918 IAD LHR 2200 0915 744 15H
was UA 924 IAD LHR 2145 1000 777 13J
was UA 918 IAD LHR 1805 0620 744 15H

They said that the upper deck was weight restricted and
asked for me to put my rollaboard above row 23, which must
have thrilled the denizens ... but when I got upstairs, I
found the closet and the upper deck virtually empty. In
fact, we took off with 12/26 - i.e., one person per
two-seat area, less 15AB, which were empty. By the way,
both on NZ and UA I now prefer the right side; nothing
wrong with looking at a jumpseater, and I find the FAs
more attractive than do some of the young flyertalkers.
Anyhow, my jumpseater was a gorgeous twentysomething black
woman with knee boots and a figure to kill for. The other
UD FA, closer to my age, was petite and kind of cute too.

There was a warmed nuts offering, with seconds; the wines
were the same as on HKG-ORD (Piper Red Top, Corbieres,
Pedroncelli Cabernet, Wente Chard, and Chablis). The
first bottle of Cab was very corked (second was okay).

Peculiar appetizer: an utterly wretched goat-cheese stuffed
mushroom, some watery mediocre ham, and a slice of smoked
salmon that had been ceviche-ized by the lemon on top.

The salad, well, before I left Maryland a couple weeks ago
Carol made me promise to eat my greens, and so I did,
under silent protest. They had seen better days. The FA
was properly judicious with the balsamic vinaigrette.

As it was a pretty empty section I had no compunction
about having a first choice, which was the beef: about a
quarter pound filet medium, wrapped in a flabby but
strong applewood bacon, sided by very stringy string
beans and very waxy fingerlings, all in a decent red wine
and mushroom sauce.

Dessert was ice cream or cheese; I had the latter, a wedge
each of Stilton and Cheddar. Ate some of the Stilton, which
was far from glorious (if it's glorious, I can't eat it at
all), and the whole wedge of Cheddar, Black Diamond sharp.

Turned in for the rest of the flight; had some pretty
bumpy weather over the ocean, but all went reasonably
well and we landed a few minutes after the 777 (after
having pushed back a few minutes before it).

The Heathrow Express is 27 quid return. No riffraff
at those prices!

My friend DT took me to lunch at a gastropub type place
whose name was something like Formosa St. Dining Room.
It's not a long street and you can't miss it if you wish
to look for it. There's this L10 two course lunch, for
which you get arugula and Parmesan salad or pate de foie
gras or some other rabbitty green thing, followed by
bangers and mash or pea-mint risotto or grilled salmon.

We both started with the pate, which surprisingly was made
principally of foie gras and tasted quite nice, with very
little seasoning except a sprinkle of coarse salt and pepper
on top; an ornamental drizzle of EVOO didn't do much for it.
The house Sauternes was honeyed and botrytized and a bargain
at L3.45. I didn't catch the name.

DT's risotto was properly done but mundane, rescued by lots
of shavings of decent Parmesan. I had bangers (bready and
mediocre) and extremely buttery mash, the sauce essentially
being demi-glace ladled out of a 55 gallon drum and heated
up. A blob of caramelized onions was a nice completion.
Guinness went with this, as they were out of Fuller's.

The room is hopelessly noisy and smells a little funny,
although with a big skylight it's bright enough. Service
was decent if spacey - when we called for the bill, it was
a long time coming, and when it came, we were charged only
for drinks. We had to point out to our server that actually
we had also eaten, and even though we are charming in our
way, there was no reason for the establishment to have
given us lunch for free. Ended up L35 for two, with modest
drinks and a fair tip.

The Nicolas store on Clifton Gardens was a wretched place,
although it had a few bargains; it now has become an Odd
Bins, a friendlier store with no discernible bargains. We
picked up a bottle of Etoile Filante Syrah for dinner. This
turned out to be a blandish Pays d'Oc wine with pleasant
fruit and not much else, but it was certainly cheap and
did go with the house Filipino Chinese food. I also got an
off brand Gavi that was notable for having no aroma, no
flavor, and no finish, whose shipper was called something
like La Chiara, but everything about it was forgettable.

Consoled myself with a tot of Andrew Rich Les Vigneaux
Gewurztraminer ice wine (Oregon) 1997, which has a peculiar
story - I brought this bottle to this house in 1999, we all
had a thimbleful, found it unexciting, and popped it in the
fridge door, whence it seldom reappears, except that every
third visit or so I take a taste, noting its improvement.
It's down to half the bottle now and is now much more
pleasant than when it was first opened, with a slightly
candied opening, great smoothness (most of the alcohol
must be gone by now), nectary palate with pineapple and
flowers, and the most amazing finish of lychee. Essentially,
6 years of sitting opened has made this into an interesting
wine, when it was made kind of boring. Which reminds me that
the Odd Bins does have a bargain, the d'Arenberg The Noble
Riesling for L9 and change for a half bottle; unfortunately
I don't like the stuff at all.

Off on the #6 bus to Handel House to hear a recital by Alex
Ashworth, the bass late from Glyndebourne, and Julian
Perkins, a harpsichordist of some repute. On the program,
Handel (of course) and WF Bach, the latter represented by
a pair of keybord solos that seemed to border on the
improvisatory, not to say sight-read. An engaging but not
brain-stretching program. The reception featured a Champagne
from Jacquesson, with which I had been unacquainted and will
make every effort so to continue. The Champagne pourer, as
it turned out, was the director of the museum; she led us on
a brief tour of the building, pointing out the room where
the great man is said to have composed the bulk of Messiah,
the room in which the great man died, and so on.

I was invited to the British Library by one of the other
guests the next day to view the manuscript collection; alas,
I had planned on Dublin, so I had to respectfully decline.

My friends Nicholas and Beth invited me to dinner with a
pair of composer friends of theirs, who shall just be known
as Norm and Jean. We dined at our usual haunt, Vama, down
King's Road a mile or two west of Sloane Square.

Started with excellent papadums with three chutneys in cute
little prissy cups, as this place, always de trop, has in
the years that I've known it become altogether too de trop.

An order of fried bhindi slivers was very slivery and very
fried, but was a little on the weak side as far as the okra
flavor went.

Spinach and peas in methi leaf sauce was excellent; some
of the peas were not the bedewed jewels we know that fresh
peas can be, but on the other other hand, this is January
in London, and to get palatable fresh vegetables at all is
a tour de force in itself.

Black-pepper chicken was delightful - tandooried, but
instead of the red yogurt and spices stuff, the breast meat
had been coated with pepper, then cooked at enormous heat
for a fairly short time, so the interior was tender and
moist.

We asked for the lamb in tomato curry to be served as hot
as the kitchen could make it. I suspect that the kitchen
staff are not Indian (although gifted cooks), so what came
was delicious but mild. Asked for hot sauce on the side;
this was a mixture of Cayenne powder, onion, tomato, oil,
cumin, and a couple other things and did come admirably to
the rescue. Among the three guys, we nearly finished the
cup given to us.

The urad dal in creamy tomato curry found universal favor
except for my palate, which found it too reminiscent of
Campbell's tomato rice soup with cream in it (a worthy
dish, but not worth ten pounds).

Garlic naan was fine; I didn't taste the cumin flatbread,
which the ladies made short work of.

Cobra beer (fake Indian; the label didn't say where it was
brewed, so I figure the UK; the version in the States is
made in Belgium) was the cheapest and perhaps best drink
for the food. A fairly posh wine list included numerous
things that just couldn't possibly go with Indian food
of whatever description.

Norm and Jean had a train to catch at Charing Cross, so
we all hopped a bus that took Nicholas and Beth to Sloane
Square, myself to Trafalgar, and them to their train. The
#6 bus from Trafalgar to Little Venice took nearly as long
as walking would have, but the people watching was fun.

Crossing another ocean already? At least this time you were able to ride upstairs, instead of getting stuck downstairs sitting next to someone like me! Glad you didn't get stuck this time with the less than appetizing fish you had from ORD to NRT. I had the beef returning from NRT and was impressed. I unfortunately have to agree with your assessment of the salads -- the lettuce always seems a little past its "sell by" date. How much does the wine selection differ between trans-Atlantic and trans-Pacific flights?

C'mon, Greg, crossing an ocean isn't what it used to be ... back when
my grandfather used to, it took weeks, and then when the airplanes
started, the trip we took together would have needed what, eight,
ten hops. Progress has its benefits! even if I'm chewing up my weight
in fossil fuels every hour or two, and my grandchildren will have to pay
for my indulgence (and I'm, so far as I know, childless).

I know that most of the schmoozing I did in London could have been
done a month later in New York or someplace, but there's something
about being able to say I have a 40,000 mile YTD balance by the
end of January.

Hah - if you answer this, you'll be a proud owner of ten posts!
Wishing you many more (flights and posts both).

P.S. The wine selection is identical on Atlantic and Pacific crossings.

BD 129 LHR DUB 1540 1700 321 4F

Back off on the train after the one I needed; this was
luckily right on time, so I got to T1 in a reasonable
state, to find that the BD checkin wouldn't recognize
me. A polite and efficient agent recognized my plight
and fixed things up - but this took several times as
long as just going to an agent in the first place would
have. The computer didn't recognize me to check in but
yet had preassigned me to 4F, which was the seat I would
have chosen anyway, with 4E blocked. As my bag was over
7 kg, I had to take it to bag check, where it was sent
off with a nice red tag, and off I went to spend a half
an hour at the lounge. The snacks were poor, the wines
worse (a Grechetto that tasted of soap, a Merlot that
showed why the Pays d'Oc should stick to the traditional
varieties). I had a number of shortbread cookies and a
couple glasses of the Polignac Cognac (okay). It takes
5 minutes to get from the lounge to gate 82 - the agent
at the lounge was right; the fellow at ticketing had
said that it took ten - I guess he was unduly impressed
by my age and shape. They'd just called the aft boarding
when I arrived; watched a bit of the heart-rending whale
story and went down the jetway to find ... a bus.

I'd thought that Heathrow had outgrown bus gates.

My seat was perhaps an inch narrower than the biz seat
and had about as much (i.e., not enough) legroom. I
propped myself up against the wall and next thing I knew,
here was Dublin.

The gates here are nicely renovated. It's a longer walk now
to Immigration (where an openly hostile clerk gave my blue
passport a 2-day stamp, all I needed or wanted) and to the
still rather third-worldish bag claim, where the red-tagged
bags really did come out first, and I was on my way to
Bewley's Hotel, Sandyford, on the Aircoach (E12 return).

Dublin is a happenin' place, especially compared to the
first time I was there in the early '90s. I probably should
have allowed an extra day or two, at least to sample the
fare at Patrick Guilbaud, but I didn't. Did have a roaring
time at Finnegan's Pub in Dalkey, though.

BD 120 DUB LHR 0645 0815 321 18A

My friend Mike persuaded me to forgo the 3:45 am bus and
leave at 4:45, with the result I arrived in the midst of
the check-in crush for this flight. All the good seats were
gone, and I hadn't been preassigned a seat, or if I had,
it had been stolen, so I ended up in the waywayback on a
pretty full flight. No big worries, I put my eyeshades on
and slept from gate to gate. We got in pretty much on time,
and I went to the flight connection center to find that as
I didn't yet have my UA boarding pass I had to go around
and do things the long way; but it turns out I managed to
walk from T1 to T3, get checked in, go through the Fast
Track (quite slow, it seemed), and arrive at my destination,
World of Whiskies, by about 9:15. Got a bottle of some
Speyside thing 1976 (the date is more important than the
distillery, for this purpose) for my sweetie's birthday
and then to the rather crowded SKL for a glass or two of
Remy XO, which beats the Hennessy VS that United serves. A
rather dishy blonde bartendress opened a new bottle for me.
Oh, yes, in Dublin, they let me carry on my slightly
oversize carryon (in fact suggesting I do so); in London
they'd made me check it on a fairly empty flight.

UA 919 LHR IAD 1200 1510 744 15A

I don't recall seeing the express door before; anyhow,
a quick passport check, and I was on the plane.

Being a stupid boy, I forgot to change 15A for H. The
upper deck was pretty full. Warmed nuts dusted with
onion salt, Duval-Leroy Champers (rather nice, aromatic,
a little floral, pretty little bubbles). The rest of the
wines were as before. I think I shall never get to try
the Ch. Lalande Vieilles Vignes. Perhaps it doesn't exist.
I stuck with the Duval and then graduated to the Sandeman.

Another odd composed appetizer of smoked halibut, quite
nice, sun-dried tomatoes, quite nice, and goat cheese, very
goaty, with a dressing of sun-dried and nonsundried tomatoes
and a garnish of excellent radicchio and red oak lettuce.

The salad was also excellent, fresh greens and a choice of
Caesar or sun-dried tomato dressing (UA must have had a
really good deal on sun-dried tomatoes, which also crept
into one of the main courses.

The other two options (whatever on earth is "Harmonica
Provencal Pasta?") sounded rather dubious, so I had the
filet. This turned out to be a generous 6 oz of beef that
managed to be rare and tough, something I've not encountered
in a filet before, and tasteless, which I have. It was sided
with "garlic demi-glace," which was heavily thymed bouillon,
Somerset- style vegetables (greasy ratatouille), and Cheddar
mashed potatoes, which seemed to be equal amounts of spuds
and fairly sharp old Cheddar mushed together, so clearly
the best thing on the plate. Dessert was obnoxious (Haagen-
Dazs or two somewhat dried-up-looking cheeses), so had some
Founder's Reserve and a cup of leftover nuts instead.

My seatmate's chicken with sun-dried tomatoes looked
pretty decent; his mixed peppers risotto on the side
looked like a pile of wallpaper paste; he did not eat it.

Slept until the second service, which was Wensleydale with
cranberries and Red Leicester, both respectable, served with
good grapes, a very crumbly scone, a small packet of clotted
cream, and Frank Cooper's strawberry jam. I had the last of
the Port (the FA presented this with a flourish, saying,
"this is the last of it," as he did so - I believe that I
may have done the entire bottle myself).

Immigration took mere minutes, even with some eastern
European couple who cut in front as I was summoned by the
officer and who had to be thumbprinted and the whole thing
(interesting that they have the equipment ready even in the
US citizen line). When I came up the guy apologized to me,
but we agreed it was easier just to let the people through
rather than send them off to the proper line.

Surfaced to find that my connection was at D18, about as
far as possible, and 20 minutes late, owing to blowing
snow in Boston.

UA 980 IAD BOS 1620 1752 733 2A

A bumpy, crowded (only one empty; a lot of weather-related
cancellations) flight. I don't know why 1C remained open
after they announced that F had checked in full. Inop seat
perhaps? We made up a couple minutes en route. No Ch 9.