Spending complete, uninterrupted, time as a family
MrsPJH connecting again with her ex South Africa family
The flexibility and space afforded by the apartment we had for 10 days
Darling Harbour fireworks – entirely unexpected and fully visible from our balcony
Twelve minutes of fireworks on NYE and realising thinking that I really had time travelled
Walking from Bondi to Coogee, and the ferries out to Tarronga Zoo and Manly Beach.
Ayers Rock
The Blue Mountains
The Hunter Valley –kangaroos by the porch, unoaked chardonnay, the comfortable feeling of being ever so slightly squiffy all day and the lessons about wine
Coles wine offers (with every purchase, no matter how small)
A Pie Face on every corner
The Lord Nelson Brewery
“No worries mate!” and no expectation of tipping,
Optus $2 day rate that kept us on line and in touch wherever we were. Browse the internet at the foot of Ayers Rock – no worries!
Remembered with less fondness will be
Flies in Ayers Rock and the Blue Mountains – I’m sure not all biscuits they serve are actually garibaldi
Kevin bloody McLoud’s and Gok Wan’s faces everywhere
Beer prices
Watching #1 Daughter’s connection time diminish as her flight into DXB got more and more delayed (having taken off on time). Somehow she made it with 5 minutes to spare.
So I think Australia’s ahead on points.
Where were we? Oh yes, bleary eyed in the lobby of the Hilton at 3.45am being met the car. A call from the CDC company had advised that the Emirates standard 3 hours before flight time pickup may just be a little bit too early as the airport doesn’t open it’s doors until 4 am. In the event, we were at the check in just after 4am to be processed by a very smartly dressed but less than completely engaged member of Emirates check in staff. This lack of engagement extended to failing to hand us the exit cards required by the border agents, so we had to forfeit our place in that queue to find and complete the cards. Ok, we were the only people in the queue but it’s the principle…and when we returned to the same agent who had pointed out the error of our ways he barely looked at the documents.
This way round we were welcomed through the shiny portals of the Emirates Lounge, one level down from the main departure level. A good selection of breakfast options, the opportunity to partake of a 5 a.m. flute of the fizzy stuff and decent wifi, but basically a waiting room with no sense of…sparkle? Perhaps that’s a wee bit much to ask for first thing in the morning. Oh, and it had one of those bloody coffee machines I hate. Still, way better than the main airport and the Galleries at LHR T3, and I must remember to write “Stop getting above yourself” out fifty times.
Called pretty much on time, a cheery farewell and sweet offering from the ladies at the desk and back upstairs to find the gate, the jetway and another A380. A brave attempt at the aircraft door to get our name pronounced correctly, turning right (is that allowed?) and then to our seats. Or should I call them thrones? I mean, they are huge. Bigger than #1 Daughter’s flat.
A clever design with a staggered configuration where effectively your lower half lines up with the upper half of the person in front when laying down, there are at any point only four seats across the cabin. This allows each seat to have an individual shelf big enough for as meal tray, which also hosts a small soft drink mini bar, a small socks and shades amenity pack and a tablet device to control the IFE. I can’t say the blingtastic colour scheme is to my taste (it’s basically yellow) but everything feels robust and made to last.
Having read a number of reviews, I’d assigned us one of the middle pairs. In retrospect, I’m not sure that we wouldn’t have actually been just as well served by taking a window seat each and meeting up periodically. Being in the centre meant you didn’t get any chance to watch the world go by when in your seat (there are the external cameras, but relatively lo-fi) and the fact the design is still one that dictates you sit facing forward towards a screen. There is the bar (more of which later) but we both like the chance to dine facing each other facilitated by the ottoman in VS UC.
First things first, it is of course champagne o’clock and we opt not to let the side down.
Away on time, with the novel experience of watching the taxi and take off on the IFE (which is gate to gate). Together with the fact that the whole thing is so quiet, this gives an air of unreality to the exercise. Given MrsPJH is not always the robust of flyers, I wondered how she would take to have the external view, but she actively chose to have the camera views on the IFE during take off and landing.
The crew members assigned to the seat came round and introduce
themselves, offering breakfast. MrsPJH declined and opts to get her head down for a while; the crew member opened the small socks and shades pack, extracted a “Do Not Disturb” sticker and affixed it to the side of the seat. After a microsecond’s hesitation (and with the Qantas food experience in mind) I gratefully accept the offer and make my choice. Now, I can’t remember what I actually ordered as the main part of the breakfast, but when it is delivered, I figure that they have messed up my order and given me a fruit plate amongst the various juices and breads. No problem I think, it looks good, tastes good and is right for a slightly clouded palate. Having finished it, I sit back and wait for the tray to be cleared way (only later do I figure that I could actually put the tray on the shelf next to me). Only it isn’t cleared away – no, more food in the form of my selected main then appears. This sets the tone for the food offering throughout the flight, which was consistently excellent quality and more than enough in quantity.
Having eaten, I then decided to get couple of hours of rest, hopefully awaking at an hour where I won’t feel even the tiniest smidgeon of guilt about having a glass or two. We were very firmly told by the crew members that the facilities are at the rear of the cabin, so I head back there and choose one of the outer options. And blow me down, there’s a window! I resist the temptation to moon anyone foolish enough to be passing by, or to pillage the supply of shaving and dental kits, instead simply changing into my Qantas PJs, take a spray of the male scent on offer, then heading back to my seat for a couple of hours of joining MrsPJH in the land of nod.
Speaking of shaving, we were also given fine amenity kits. I believe that these are not handed out on all services, but restricted to night, and ultra long haul, flights.
On waking up, I find MrsPJH is gone. Usually that means she’s downstairs at the kitchen table, either because she has work to do or because I have been snoring. Knowing that she does not have work to do, I rise to find her and check whether she has been receiving death threats from other passengers on account of the noise coming from the seat next to her. Thinking it unlikely that Emirates have a kitchen table on the A380, I head off to check and yes, I find her in the bar, gazing wistfully out of the window, white wine in hand. She greets me with a statement that she loves the fact I am “my own man”, which on reflection may well be an encoded wrapper for the message “you look a plonker” as I was still PJ’d up. At the time reflection was not high on the list of priorities, but white wine was. As, it turns out, were small dishes of assorted roasted nuts which, as HL reported here, kicked the tastebuds back into gear. I must admit to some surprise on the nuts front, given allergy issues.
And what of the bar? Well, the best picture of the bar itself is in one of HWVLover’s many EK trip reports. There are no bar stools, but down the side of the aircraft are bench seats (with seatbelts) for those who wish to sit, and installed across the doors are shelves for those who wish to stand. At the rear of the bar area is a small shelf containing a constantly replenished selection of small bites, underneath a screen showing the sky map. A goodly range of spirits, and a choice of two for each of beer, white wine, red wine and champagne.
It’s an interesting design and possibly reveals something about the Emirates principles of service, which I came away thinking are based on making a high quality product offering available but put the onus for interaction on the passenger / consumer. The bar area is easy to access with no need to cross crew galley areas, doesn’t physically impinge on seated passengers, looks and feels inviting – the lack of bar stools means that you don’t get the impression you’re interrupting a private party (or at least not on our flights). The same lack of bar stools also though puts a distance between yourself and the crew member serving the drinks, and on the evidence of the two flights we took, that crew member is not going to engage in small talk. Don’t get me wrong, they smile and are pleasant and efficient but chit chat isn’t part of the offering. Perhaps this is down to capability; on both flights an announcement was made about the number of nationalities in the crew and the number of languages spoken (greater than the number of nationalities) presumably a reflection of the airline’s target market, and given that I can fully understand an offering that focuses more on providing a crew that covers efficiently across a range of cultures and languages than a crew that can talk cricket at the bar which several chaps tried, and failed, to do.
Speaking of cricket, there was, it would appear, one cricketer heading home. You ask who? I have no idea. I only know because I overheard someone talking to his wife. And where’s the justice, I ask you. I understand a fellow V-Flyer was surrounded by the Australian Women’s Beach Volleyball Team (in game costume), and I get a cricketer I wouldn’t recognise if I tripped over him – which I may well have done at one point. There was also someone who looked familiar, possibly a commentator or an actor.
There is another problem with the bar; it is too tempting and too efficient. It’s an attractive space, is always staffed (or someone will suddenly appear if you’re close) and you have to pass through it to get to the facilities. Thus on the way back the temptation to get a takeaway may prove irresistible….or did so for me.
And that set the pattern for the rest of the flight – sleep, drink, eat and watch the IFE. As I remarked about the breakfast offering, the food was consistently good and plentiful. I think I had steak – or it may have been lamb? Well, I had one on this flight and the other on the next. The much vaunted IFE I found a little disappointing. A lot of programmes, but a case of 57 channels with nothing …well, very little…on. I reverted to watching an old series of Modern Family and reading.
Service throughout was very efficient, drinks offered periodically and always addressed by name, even if they opted to call me “Mr Paul” when then couldn’t quite decide how to pronounce the surname.
So 14 hours passed by in a very, very pleasant fashion. I got a good amount of sleep, and avoided both drinking too much and becoming too dispirited about heading back, the Emirates service helping greatly with that.
And with that, Hello Dubai! (again).
We can get better, because we're not dead yet
