This is a Trip Report from the Upper Class cabin
Ground Staff
Food & Drink
Entertainment
Seat
Cabin Crew
Online check-in, a brilliant (Premier team) desk agent and a queue-free run through the Virgin security channel and into the Clubhouse. Wonderfully pampered with the new-style facial (no shoulder massage, but a scalp massage while the treatment mask is on - I could seasily have nodded off, it was so relaxing), and lots of personal attention from the CH staff. Made me feel like: Posh.
Bit of a mad dash to the far distant gate 36, no priority boarding, and then a delay caused by arriving passengers crossing the gate area (back when I worked at Heathrow, they used to plan every development to avoid this ever needing to happen). Made me feel like: Sporty (yeah; that one's a stretch)
Arrival on board my old friend Mustang Sally (I think the sixth time on board in the last twelve months), warm welcome (by name) at the door, with menu, snooze pack and headphones waiting, immediate visit from designated crew member to take jacket and offer drink. Made me feel like : Posh again.
Ten hours and twenty two minutes announced for the flight time, left the gate on time and were airborne just over thirty minutes later. Post take-off drink round or two (with two fill-ups on crisps), followed by lunch from the new menu (crayfish/salmon starter and then the very nice lamb, followed by cheese, and later yet more crisps at the bar, and several glasses of Chianti before wrapping up the flight with afternoon tea of sandwiches and butterfly cake, contributed to a sensation that I'd visibly piled on weight in-flight. Made me feel like: Ginger :-)
Worked for a lot of the flight, but when I took a break and switched to V:Port, I did a big action/comedy catch up - The Bourne Ultimatum, two episodes of The Class, etc. Laughed like a drain at the latter. Made me feel like: Baby.
I have to offer a big shout out to the worst Virgin FSM I've ever encountered. Came across as completely unengaged and disinterested, ignored my request for the lights at the bar to be turned up so I could read, dismissed my enquiry as to why the lights are dimmed on daytime flights anyway with 'they just are', and was generally unpleasant to have around. Didn't bother with an introduction around the cabin either. Did spend a chunk of time in the galley yacking with a passenger who was clearly a mate of hers and the IFBT's. And on the subject, the miserable IFBT gave the most cursory introduction ('Want a treatment?') in between chatting extensively to the same passenger and her partner. The rest of the crew were great, but the FSM especially gave the lie to the idea that a good FSM makes the service experience, because the crew made me feel very well looked-after in spite of the very bad FSM, who I just got more and more annoyed with as the flight progressed. Made me feel like: Scary.
Landed a few minutes early after an unusual weather-affected approach right over the city, third off the plane, first through Immigration ('there's a BA flight coming onto stand a few minutes behind us, so you might want to hurry to avoid the crowds') via the cheeriest, most welcoming US Immigration Officer I've ever dealt with, and out of the baggage hall and into a taxi inside eight minutes later courtesy of my Prioritised seventh and eighth bags on the belt. Made me feel: Like a pop star.
So now here I am in SF for the next three months, and a tempest is raging outside. Glad I flew in yesterday and not today...
