This is a Trip Report from the Upper Class cabin
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The first day of our summer holidays began very, very early indeed.
When we moved to Cork from London we retained our "brand loyalty" as the marketeers call it, to Virgin. The missus and I view the necessary rigmarole of connecting flights as part of the holiday.... and part of the fun. So, Patsy our friendly local taxi-driver rolled into the drive at 6.30 am (ouch!) to pick up the bleary eyed "Globetrotters".
Half-empty bags loaded into the car, we left Crosshaven shrouded in leaden skies and mist as we headed out the winding back road to Cork Airport and the EI710 Aer Lingus red-eye to Heathrow.
As is my usual holiday ritual I sat in silence in the cab mentally noting all the myriad things I'd failed to do before leaving the house, all the doors and windows left unlocked, all the lights left on, the mail and milk UNcancelled and security timers left UNfortunately......UNplugged.....etc etc
My wife however is straight into holiday mode and catches up on all the local gossip with our hilariously indiscreet cabbie / informer, as we speed to the Airport.
Cork airport is small, modern and uncomplicated.
(Unlike me, who is not.)
However, it can also fall victim to weather delays due to its particular geographical situation - it is apparently prone to delays, especially of the poor visibility kind.( This anxiety is quickly added to all the others and doesn't help my poor man's Woody Allen impression.....
Anyway we check in amidst a growing throng of travellers who view our high-piled trolley with a mixture of incredulity and pity.We are on a thru-ticket, the girl at the desk recognizes my wife and checks us into Heathrow and our various bags through to Newark (hopefully!-thinks the anxious Woody Allen...)
All my fears are unfounded as our short flight to London is an efficient and friendly hop skip and jump to Blighty...
We land at Heathrow domestic arrivals and dawdle over to T3.
I begin to relax as the warm welcoming Red of Virgin looms into view. We are ridiculously early but the check in area is crowded and noisy - there are about 6 people in front of us at UC so we wait patiently, content that the good times are about to roll and our holiday has well and truly started.
We had completed OLCI so the contact at Check-in was brief, pleasant and efficient. Boarding cards in hand we were soon at the Clubhouse entrance where the staff were gracious enough not to laugh at how early we were for our flight....
We headed straight for brekkie - I had the farmhouse breakfast (the sausage was thick, tasty and piping hot and my wife, the Eggs Benedict. The coffee was excellent although the tea was wishy-washy. The staff were friendly and attentive if a little sparse in places - notably at the concierge desk, when I wanted to avail of the phone charger....(yep, you guessed it, mine was left at home...)
"We" waited till lunchtime (honest!) before hitting the bar. I started and stayed in the Red(s), South African first followed by Italian, while my wife had the Virgin Mary's.....(booo!) we both had a massage, my wife had her nails done while I went for a steam 'n'sauna. Excellent preparation for a flight. I spent the afternoon taking on all ages and sizes giving an exhibition performance on how NOT to play Pool. we grazed lightly on the deli offering which was good in quality and selection. There's a barman who has been at the Clubhouse for a while who is consistently excellent and convivial - even when dealing with a slightly "euphoric" and over-tired scotsman!
The Clubhouse got busy around lunchtime and a tad congested. This was not helped by the Upstairs area being "closed"....while half a dozen skinny "skateboarder" types lounged about glamorously. Only later did my wife point out the elegantly and expensively attired Kate Hudson was among the LA bound posse.
Our JFK flight was called and we boarded easily and without undue complication. En route I had purchased my own body weight in businessy-type self help books which I'll never read, and the excellent "Star Island" by Carl Hiassen which I began reading as soon as I took my seat.
I'm sorry I can't remember what plane it was or what seats we had, although it was the long thin plane and we were pretty near the front with me in the middle and the wife slightly ahead of me.
The attendant who greeted us was excellent, chatty and friendly, our accommodations were familiar so little need of a bed demo, but the suite was in need of a good clean - the fabric/ leather was a bit worn in places, the plastic was chipped around the table hinge and a previous occupant had left me a little gift in the shape of a used ear plug (nice! in the locker). If I can find it why can't the cleaners???.
My table-top was also noticeably coffee-stained. However excellent the coffee was this didn't give me that "special" feeling.... When I enquired after a cloth to clean it, it took about 40 mins for a response by which time I'd cleaned it myself with the sleeve of my ninja suit.
In the grand scheme of things - no big deal, but first impressions and all that....
My wife got into her PJ's straight away and went to bed, just as well as her IFE wouldn't / couldn't work....Mine had to be restarted about 3 times by which time I gave up and returned to my book. Neither of us ate much on the plane although I did have a sneaky plate of crackers and cheese at the bar with another excellent Red as a nightcap, my wife had the Hot Chocolate.The folk at the bar were nice and friendly.
The Flight was quick, very warm and thankfully uneventful in terms of turbulence. The lines at JFK to get through immigration were horrendous and it took more than two hours to get through, for once we had a sunny dispositioned official to "process" us - he looked like Herbie Hancock and sounded like Barry White.
That was it, we were through and out to get our bags which were arrayed around the carousel in no particular order.....I don't like JFK airport, we should have gone to Newark, but I'll always travel Virgin Atlantic.
Cheers!
and...
God-Bless The Great British, Virgin Atlantic Sale!
That's every Monday for yours truly, with only the domestic terminal at Stansted to look forward too. (OK, you can put down the violins now...)
