This is a Trip Report from the Upper Class cabin
Ground Staff
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To put this into perspective, this flight was booked immediately after my trip to California in the dying days of the last UC sale and was quite frankly, a Gold run. To be perfectly honest, I debated long and hard as to whether I should do one or let my status lapse to Silver especially as the timing didn’t really suit. I would have preferred to travel later in the year but at that stage couldn’t rely on another sale and in any case I had commitments later on which I couldn’t change and my renewal date was December 31. In the end status won (I’m such a snob!
); New York was chosen as it was the cheapest and EWR because of the superlative flight I had had there last year. So basically at the beginning of July I had a flight booked, no plans made and I was totally disinterested in making any to the extent that I didn’t even book the Aer Lingus flights in and out of Cork. Big mistake! Oh I had looked desultorily at them; registered somewhere in my brain that EI710 was €9.99 + taxes but that was that! Of course my ennui, which I put down to post-holiday blues, soon disappeared and I rapidly went in to planning mode but by that time it was too late. €9.99 had become silly money to the extent that my UC flight was nearly cheaper per mile than my economy Aer Lingus one. 
Time for plan B! Out of the recesses of my mind I recalled that Aer Lingus now flies into Cork from LGW and a quick check on the website showed a 9:10am departure getting in at 10:25am. Plenty of time to get to LHR to catch VS1. And the cost? €0.00 + taxes! Result! Oh, and the other thing was that I had decided to go from EWR to Washington DC and flights with Continental were booked.Fast forward to the day of the flight. By now honey lamb was seriously excited about the trip! It was nice not to have to get up at the crack of dawn for EI710 and I happily set forth for Cork Airport blithely unaware of the (albeit minor) catastrophes that were to befall. Number one came within the first 15 minutes of the journey. The main road to Cork was closed for roadworks and we were diverted on to a twisty back road. Facing east. And the sun was rising! And shining straight into my eyes! The result was that I limped along - I had no choice; the cars in front were doing the same. Fortunately I always leave plenty of time and so soon I was at the airport having deposited my bag and raring to go. The plane arrived on time; left early and although I had had breakfast before leaving the house I decided a coffee was in order. Catastrophe number two. The cap on my cup had not been put on properly. Result? A nice brown coffee stain on my pristine white t-shirt!
Apart from that the flight was good with terrific views of the south coast of England and the Isle of Wight and soon we were on the ground where I was welcomed by two V-Flyers who were to be recipients of Irish cheeses.After a pleasant interlude which included coffee and a change of t-shirt (in that order - I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice!) I headed for the 11:45 bus to LHR opining I should be there just about 1pm. Ha! When I had made the booking I had forgotten it was a Bank Holiday in the UK and so I was a bit apprehensive about this part of the journey. We sailed blithely along the M23 and then the M25 to the extent that I was lulled into a false sense of security. The travel gods, aware of my mood decided to have some fun with me. We were just approaching one junction when there were signs saying “Queues after junction” and boy were they right. The signs were flashing a 40mph limit but the challenge was to reach 40, not to pass it. Inch by inch we crawled along with occasional bursts of speed and it was all I could do not to scream, shout and holler in frustration but to be grateful we were at least moving and not at a standstill. Inch by inch, foot by foot we crawled and I kept glancing nervously at the clock in the bus. In truth I had plenty of time and knew it but there was always the dread we would come to a standstill and I was becoming a nervous wreck! Eventually we came to the M3 junction and the welcome sight of planes taking off and landing in LHR and the even more welcome sight of an open road past the junction and fast moving cars! Traffic on the other side of the carriageway WAS at a standstill and I thanked my lucky stars that I wasn’t doing the reverse journey. Nonetheless as we pulled into the Central Bus Station at just after 1:40pm I got off the bus feeling - what was that word again? - fraught!
I took the subway to T3 and as I entered zone A I could see it was very busy. Economy was heaving and as I approached the UC check-in area, a family was being moved from there to their rightful place at the PE check-in desk. Both the UC desks were busy but I had hardly set foot in the vicinity of the UC area when I was greeted by a staff member “Good afternoon, madam. Where are you travelling to today”. I told her and without missing a beat she suggested that I check-in upstairs and radioed ahead to tell them. At that moment a blanket of tranquillity fell over me. It was like when I was a child being taken out of a bath on a cold winter’s night and cocooned in a warm fluffy towel and put in front of a roaring fire. I felt cossetted both then and now. Still metaphorically speaking in my warm towel I floated up to the DTCI area where I was greeted by the staff and checked in as quickly and as pleasantly as one could wish. From there it was straight through the security channel before once more joining the masses in the departure lounge. A brisk walk through them soon had me at the foot of the stairs leading up to the Clubhouse where I was warmly welcomed as always.
In the midst of the worst moments on the bus I had decided that I would not look for a treatment, that I was too wound up to enjoy it. However by this time I felt sufficiently soothed to seek one. After a quick look at the computer fully expecting it to say no, the receptionist offered me a 2:15pm treatment. What time was it now, I wondered. It was just 1:55pm. I could not believe it had only taken me 15 minutes to collect my case from the bus, walk over to T3, check-in and then make my way to the CH. Well actually on one level I could as the whole check in experience had been pretty seamless. Since I hadn’t long to wait for my appointment I felt that a glass of champagne was in order and it really hit the spot. The treatment I chose was the complimentary facial which really was a quick skin cleanse and moisturise and lasted just over 10 minutes. Still it was pleasant and I felt sufficiently refreshed afterwards and ready for something to eat and also to try and check in (unsuccessfully) for my onward flight on Continental. As someone had pointed out the Clubhouse menu has changed. I usually head for something like Eggs Benedict which in the past seemed to be available all day. However there was nothing to indicate this on the menu but in any case I need to get out of my food rut where I always order the same things so crispy duck pancakes with plum sauce it was - and very nice it was too washed down with a mojito (to which I have become a recent convert). In fact the mojito was so nice I ordered another one and as if on cue, the call to board VS1 came. It meant I was a bit ahead of the game in that one should wait for the call to board before ordering but I figured I wouldn’t get drummed off V-Flyer for the sake of a few seconds. The mojito was finished and I was just gathering up my things as the microphone clicked on ready for the second boarding call and so it was off to gate 22 where I had been able to see G-VYOU waiting for me from the Clubhouse. Once at the gate it was a quick “Good afternoon Mrs honey lamb. Enjoy your flight” and I was in the very short queue in the jetway and being welcomed on board within minutes.
My seat was 10A and the cabin crew was standing in it when I arrived to allow passengers to pass by. The aisles are really very narrow on the A346s in my opinion (but I have no doubt someone will come along and say they are the same width or wider than the B zone in the 747s). He joked that he was keeping it warm for me and when I saw his name for an instant I thought he might be the demi-god who had looked after me on my last trip to SFO and indeed my last trip to EWR. Alas it was not to be but in fairness he was excellent and quickly provided me with a champagne and a sleep suit. The doors closed early and it looked like an on-time departure but then the captain came on to say that although we were ready to go we were held back because of heavy traffic. I think it was another 15 minutes before push-back and by the time we had trundled to the far side of LHR there were another 10 minutes to add.
Once the crew were able to move around there was a hot towel round followed by a drinks round as well as the dinner requests. I expected a second drinks round but when it was not forthcoming I asked for one out of sheer cussedness! It was delivered no problem but I had ever so slightly shot myself in the foot since no sooner had it been placed in front of me than my dinner was served also. I had decided to forgo a starter and expected that I would have time to drink it before my main course. I had chosen the lamb which was delicious and followed it with cheese and biscuits with a drop of port. My table was beginning to resemble a bar since there was red wine with my dinner, a glass of port and a G&T !! I soon had it sorted though.
Once dinner was over I read for a while. There was nothing in the film selection which was grabbing me and so I put on a relaxation tape and listened to that to see if I could doze slightly given that I had an onward flight after this one. I didn’t but I felt fully relaxed and refreshed a couple of hours later when I returned to planet earth in time for tea. I’m such a gannet.
Just as I was longing for a nice cup of tea there were sounds in the galley that this might be happening but what happened next was a tad bizarre. One of the cabin crew came round with the cake stand and offered each of us one cup cake. No plates, no tables set up, nothing. I began to wonder was that it. So I helped myself to one tiny cup cake and in the absence of anything else happening, ate it.
About 15 minutes later tables were set up and afternoon tea was served. I had prawn sandwiches but of any further sightings of the cupcakes there was none - except that I later saw them up on the bar. Why they were brought round ahead of the tea, God alone knows!Shortly after that we began our descent into EWR. I had chosen a seat on the A side in the hope we would pass Manhattan. We did but at a point further west than before so we didn’t get the full dramatic effect. In any case it was a bit misty from all the heat and humidity. We landed about 15 minutes late (but still in plenty of time for my onward flight) to the fun and games of Immigration - and fun and games it was!
We arrived in the Immigration hall to the tail end of a flight from Mexico judging by the number of sombreros still in their packaging being carried through. We were directed to our respective booths, I to one with only two people ahead of me. “Great”, thinks I to myself, “This should be quick”. Wrong! Guy number one was called forward and instead of the usual few questions, fingerprinting and stamping of passport, it seemed that the questioning went on forever and eventually a supervisor was called over. A few key strokes on the computer and the guy was sent away, not to exit the hall but somewhere over to the side. Guy number two was called forward and if I thought guy number one was bad, this was worse! And it seemed to be happening up and down the various booths although a trickle of VS passengers seemed to be getting through. Eventually guy number two, clutching his Mexican passport was hauled off to secondary screening but in the meantime guy number one returned to the front of the line clutching a green 1-94 visa waiver form saying he had to present this straight away. I should have argued the toss but at this stage I was too weary and in any case would have missed the next act of the pantomime! He approached the desk, presented the form, a brief argument ensued with him tearing up the green form and tossing it into the air and stalking off again! By this time I was getting rather apprehensive and approached the immigration officer warily. I think by this stage he was probably glad to have a normal entry to process as, after a quick question and fingerprinting I was through in just over a couple of minutes. Much relieved I made my way to the baggage hall where inexplicably the bags from the VS flight and the Mexican flight were coming on the same carousel which also meant the crowds were much denser.
I could see my bag trundling along and so, hopping off the escalator with maximum speed I fought my way through to the belt and retrieved it.As this was the first time I had connected at EWR I was unsure where to go. I could see a sign pointing to Connecting Flights and a glassed-in room with what looked like check-in kiosks just near the exit from the secure area but didn’t know whether this was where I should be. However there was an airport official just near the door so I asked him and he led me in to the room I had seen where I was quickly and efficiently checked in (with absolutely no mention of baggage charges. They didn’t mention it so neither did I) I was then escorted to the bag drop area and the way to the Air Tran was pointed out to me. It was therefore a very happy honey lamb who made her way to the Air Tran when all of a sudden a large piece of paper was thrust in front of my face. I stopped dead, blinked, tried to read it, looked at who had thrust it so, blinked again, tried to read it, looked at the person again, tried to read it but at this stage the letters began to sort themselves out and written thereon was my name! I looked at the person once more and realised it was one of my friends that I was going to visit in DC and therefore the last person I had expected to see in EWR. He had come in that morning on a flight from Newfoundland and knowing I was coming in the same day had booked himself on my flight and had sworn the others to secrecy. A joyful reunion ensued and as an added benefit I was able to go into the President’s Club as his guest. What a nice welcome to the US
