This is a Trip Report from the Upper Class cabin
Ground Staff
Food & Drink
Entertainment
Seat
Cabin Crew
A fake-pine-scented taxi journey, followed by the skip-and-jump from MAN to LGW were relatively pain free, and we were all ready for twilight check-in (well, more like twilight bag-drop really, as wed already checked in online to ensure our beloved 6A & K). This was marred ever so slightly by Mrs. mdviponds sudden realisation that shed left her handbag containing house keys, purse, camera, camcorder in the toilets at MAN. Now, Im not a man known for his outbursts of rage and frustration so, to be fair, even I was quite taken aback at my reaction to this news. That said, after producing a barrage of choice expletives, the kind of which I normally reserve for when Jamie Oliver appears on my TV screen, I regained some basic level of composure and headed for the first friendly faces we could see amidst the Gatwick throng which, rather fortunately, belonged to the girls at the VS ticket desk. Long story short(ish), they were wonderful; found the right number to phone T3 at Manchester and, when said number turned out to be engaged, kept ringing for us on their landline whilst we tried on our mobiles. Finally got through, handbag (miraculously) found and not blown up, then and we have to give a huge thumbs-up to BA for this sent down to us with a member of their staff that evening. Disaster averted.
Finally got up to check-in, to face a queue that I felt duty bound to point out we would have avoided if someone hadnt lost her handbag. Didnt go down well Only ten minutes or so though, and we were dealt with relatively quickly and efficiently by a young gentleman whose barrow-boy, chirpy-cockney persona was probably slightly better suited to that of a Club 18-30 rep, most amusingly putting his foot on the scales when weighing one of our cases and informing us that it was 20 kilos over-weight. How we laughed! Once the hilarity subsided, we gratefully took our boarding passes and Clubhouse invites and rather wearily headed for the comparative sanctuary of the Hiltons executive lounge and a brace of G & Ts.
Up bright and early the following morning with the kind of background hangover which is the trademark of most airport hotel stays and quickly up to security where, as always seems to be the case for us, Fast-track failed, rather dramatically, to live up to its billing. When we finally reached the front of the slow-moving queue, matters werent helped by the staffs insistence that the push chair be collapsed into unruly hang-glider mode and forced through the x-ray machine. This was the fifth time wed flown with it in tow, and on all previous occasions security had pulled us to one side and quickly checked it over by hand. The reason for this became a little more apparent when, most amusingly, it stuck half way through the machine, needing some frantic flicking of the conveyor forward/reverse switch and the (I imagine now slightly irradiated) leg of one of the security staff to release it. Thankfully it came out in one piece, was changed from unruly hang-glider back to its deceptively innocuous push chair mode, and in the blink of an eye we were presenting ourselves at the Clubhouse.
Mrs. mdvipond immediately whisked herself off for her haircut, whilst mdvipond jr. and I settled down for some breakfast (me: bacon sarnie, jr.: almond & orange yoghurt). I have to say the service was exemplary, especially as jr. was playing up just a tad a standard reaction to being fed by me and not her mother. A truly marvellous member of CH staff (Scottish and kindly to a fault) ensured I was sarnied up, with a nice espresso and a plentiful supply of napkins for removing almond & orange yoghurt from jr., her push chair, me and the shoe-polishing guy. Mrs. mdvipond returned, all coiffed to perfection, and we spent a pleasant half hour perusing the Telegraph (you can never get it on the plane) and sneaking a last ciggie.
We decided to head for the gate a little early (advisable when travelling with little ones) and were presented with a baggage trolley by Kindly Scottish Lady to help us with the hang-glider a really nice touch, and greatly appreciated. After saying our goodbyes to all in the Clubhouse we toddled off toward the gate to find English Rose waiting for us. Priority boarding was in full effect, we were relieved of the hang-glider and quickly boarded, taking up residence in 6A & K. As wed boarded early there was only one couple in UC at this point, with no one yet in 8, so there was no problem stowing our hand luggage (for the uninitiated, there arent any overhead bins for rows 6 or 7).
Champagne was delivered as jr. was being strapped to her mother for take off and I settled down with my standard travelling companions of novel, newspaper and Bose headphones. The UC cabin quickly filled up, and we were pushed-back and off more or less on time.
Seat belt signs were switched off pretty quickly and I was soon in possession of a Tanqueray No. 10 and tonic, perusing the selection of movies on offer. I plumped for a comedy about a guy who used to be fat and nice and bullied at high school in New Jersey, but then got thin and rich and nasty when he moved to LA, then came back and met the girl he fancied at school, blah, blah. Pretty pants sort of film, really, but when breakfast essentially comprises of a bacon sandwich, two glasses of champagne and a G & T youd be amazed what I can find amusing, and I loved every minute of it.
Lunch orders were taken amidst my hard-stare-inducing guffaws; Mrs. mdvipond went for soup and salmon as a main, I went for soup and the curry. Now, I have been pretty hard on VS over the last year or so with regard to their so-called J class fare (the food, not the price of a ticket) and having read a few recent trip reports had relatively high hopes for the new menu. The soup was good, and hot, and the usual selection of breads were nice. My curry was really very good, the rice well cooked and the chicken pretty moist. Mrs. mdvipond enjoyed her salmon, but said that as an upgrade from a starter to a main it seemed they added more salad rather than more salmon. The wines were decent (cant remember which we had), and topped up generously more than once. I finished off with the rhubarb crumble which was, as they say, to die for. All in all, a definite improvement on our last two flights, although Im still left wondering if VS food is back up there with the best of the best when it comes to business class dining.
Lunch and film complete, I took myself and jr. for a little sojourn down the back. No one at all in any of the downstairs PE seats, and about two-thirds full in Y. Stopped by quite a few crew on our wander who, rather disappointingly, seemed much more interested in jr. than yours truly. She was, as ever, good as gold, beaming and cooing on demand. In fact this was the case throughout the flight, she seemed to have time only to sleep, eat or smile. We consider ourselves (and our fellow passengers) most fortunate.
Back to 6K for the second round of films (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire very good indeed) during which the usual selection of sarnies, cakes and scones was served and duly gobbled up. Most enjoyable. Treated myself to another glass of wine and lost myself in the film.
We had time for one last trip to the back-and-back before we started our descent into BGI, which was pleasingly uneventful, with jr. sleeping throughout. Landed a little early, and we were off and hot footing across the shimmering tarmac in no time. There was no real queue to mention at immigration and our bags and unruly hang-glider were off quite quickly and in the safe hands of one of the red cap chaps.
Our driver was waiting for us at arrivals, and told us to wait kerbside whilst he brought the car, which gave me time for a cig, thank god. Before long, a taxi pulled up in front of us and looked like it might be ours, so we started getting our bags together. The passenger door slid open and, to a certain level of amazement on our part, out stepped Sir Richard Branson. This, I said to Mrs. mdvipond, is what I call service. Unfortunately, it seemed that the big man was not collecting the lowly mdvipond family, but his own son and daughter whod been sat behind us on the plane. Not to worry, our taxi arrived right behind theirs and thanks to the fact that SRBs son seemed to be setting up his own unruly hang-glider dealership (or he could have been going surfing) we were loaded and on our way before they were. Good flight, enjoyed the food and jr. behaved throughout.
