This is a Trip Report from the Upper Class cabin
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Never mind, my own preferred saying has always been it wouldnt be a holiday if you didnt have to go home, and so it was we were stood with long faces, nursing a final G & T at the bar of our hotel, awaiting our car for the airport. As we were travelling D for the first time in a while this was to be a VS supplied car. Wed made a quick call to them at the beginning of our hols to remind them that we were travelling with mdvipond jr. and the unruly hang-glider, and that we would therefore need a baby seat and lots of room for luggage.
VS called us back to tell us that we hadnt previously advised them that we would need a baby seat. We replied that we had and, regardless, it was two weeks before we flew which should be more than enough notice. VS called us back and asked what BA flight no. we were on from LGW to MAN which, for the second time, we informed them of. VS called us back and asked what class we were flying in on the BA flight. Why? They didnt know why, just that the computer was asking for it (computer says no). VS called back, could we let them know the weight of jr. for the car seat? This was supplied, for the sake of accuracy, in both metric and imperial, through by this time ever so slightly gritted teeth.
Anyway, back at the bar we finished our G & Ts, bid our tearful goodbyes and made our way to the waiting car. It was a rather stylish white Cadillac and theyd also rather prudently sent out a van to take the unruly hang-glider. We slid into the cars air-conditioned leather interior to find no car seat. The driver, rather like Manuel the Spanish waiter, knew nothing, and as the clock was ticking we had no choice but to secure jr. as best we could with the centre seatbelt and hang on to her for grim, well, you know
Our little convoy (unruly hang-glider in its van did a great job of tailing us) took the best part of an hour to get to BGI, but wed given ourselves bags of time so were relatively cool, calm and collected. Luggage and hang-glider were out of the van and onto the waiting trolley of a rather frail looking red cap chap, we tipped the driver (not his fault there was no child seat) and shimmied our way over to UC check-in. No security fella for UC, which seemed odd considering there was for Economy and PE.
There was no real queue for UC, just one person in front of us checking in, who seemed to have been plucked out of the economy queue (maybe Au?). This was no major problem for us, until it turned out that she was in a party of three, all of whom didnt appear at that present moment in time to be at the airport. After quarter of an hour, the only person who didnt seem to be getting a little stressed/ticked off was the check-in agent, who appeared oblivious to the fact that there were 3 UC pax, tickets in hand, waiting patiently to be dealt with, whilst the woman from economy continued to cast desperate glances around the terminal looking for the rest of her group.
They finally arrived, in an extremely sweaty and agitated state, with a wad of Barbados dollars clasped in their clammy hands. Of course! Theyd forgotten about the departure tax. Clearly a classic, schoolboy error and, to be charitable, one that is pretty easy to make. However even if the passenger in question didnt have the nouse to shift her arse out of the queue whilst she waited for her friends, surely the check-in agent could have done a little more than stare into space for 20 minutes.
So it was a slightly miffed mdvipond family that presented itself to check-in to be told that wed been shifted from our pre-booked seats to 8 & 9A. Now, dont get me wrong, these seats are fine under normal circumstances, but we do find that when travelling with jr., 6 or at a push 7 A & K are best suited to us so that we can convert one suite, share the other, and still see what the little tyke is getting up to. Why hadnt we been able to keep our original seats? That old kipper of plane change which means that the VS computer system takes everyones seat off them and reallocates it (its been discussed on here in a number of threads). Normally I would check our seats online a couple of days before we fly, but I was just so bloody relaxed, damn it, and I forgot. Wish VS would do something about this, an e-mail, at least, inviting you to re-select your seats?
Asked about them shifting us back around, but apparently these were the last two seats together, most of UC having done Check-in, Chill Out through VH, the swine. We managed to check the luggage and unruly hang-glider through to MAN, which was one less thing to worry about. A no less miffed, but admirably stoical mdvipond family made their way to the delights of the Club Caribbean lounge.
Doesnt have an awful lot in common with a Clubhouse, does it? Not all that bad though, air conditioned, booze on tap and a few nibbles on display (quite liked the spicy tuna mayo, actually) and enough room for jr. to have a kip on one of the sofas. We killed an hour or so with the obligatory G & T and read our books before we decided to get a little ahead of the game and high tail it, via security, to the gate.
Security wasnt great, but we were through in ten minutes or so, then spent a further quarter of an hour searching for the Chamber of Commerce to pick up my duty free fags. The Chamber turned out to be a trestle table located behind a pillar and three bags of cement itll be nice when the building work at BGI is finally completed.
On to the gate and, with the Priority Boarding sign clearly displayed we were straight through and on the plane Virginia Plain in record time. We settled in to our newly allocated suites (some nasty scuff/wear n tear marks on both), giving the occupants of 6 A & K an unnecessarily hard and envious stare. Bags were stowed, champagne was duly ordered and delivered and jr. strapped to her mother amidst unprecedented cooing and miscellaneous baby-talk from the crew (who were marvellous throughout, incidentally). Mdvipond jr. responded accordingly, displaying her newly improved repertoire mainly thanks to the attentions of various waiters and barmen in Barbados of endearing smiles, gurgles, waves and what her mother rather generously calls singing.
Something of a delay whilst some no-shows luggage was searched for and removed, and we were off about 45 minutes behind schedule, with the promise that most of the delay would be made up trans-atlantic. A Tanqueray 10 and tonic was soon in my possession, IFE was up and running and my first choice of film was Fun With Dick And Jane which wasnt, a little disappointingly, half as saucy as it sounded. Quite good nonetheless, with Jim Carey pulling faces and Tea Leoni being generally gorgeous.
Food orders were taken with the very kind suggestion (considering our suite r-r-runaround) that Mrs. mdvipond and I had dinner separately, one after the other, so that one of us could attend to jr. I know that thats what the whole Freedom thing is supposed to be about, but on a homeward bound night flight its not the sort of recommendation youd necessarily expect from the crew. We took their sage advice and decided that I would dine first, mainly based on the fact that Id been on little more than G & Ts and spicy tuna mayo since 2 that afternoon and desperately needed solids.
I went for a starter of West Indian fish chowder which was spicy and spankingly good, followed by the Beef Burgundy (beef in red wine basically) with potato dauphinoise. This was really nice, good tender beef, well cooked potato and little bundles of green beans and carrots. Enjoyed all of this with a few glasses of really quite decent Bordeaux and regular top-ups of Evian. I finished off with some coconut ice cream which, by my reckoning, should have defrosted by about Tuesday week. I have to say the food was very good, and the crew were really attentive, making for a rare but enjoyable dining-in-the-sky experience.
The presence of Mrs. mdvipond glowering at me over the partition from 8A reminded me that we were doing this in shifts, and I reluctantly swapped suites (hers being already in bed mode) so that she could have her dinner. Not as great a success for her as for me, unfortunately, her chowder was a bit on the cool side and she was originally given the beef when shed actually ordered the Thai veggie curry. This was sorted, and I was later informed that the curry was quite nice, but not very Thai. Ah well.
Meanwhile, jr. and I were walking dinner off with a quick trip down the back. It seemed as if Y was packed to capacity, and I ended up getting trapped between two carts clearing up after dinner. jr. thought it was great as it gave her the chance to grin at each and every passenger on a row by row basis until, thankfully, we managed to slip through the galley to the other aisle and back to the quiet of the pointy bit.
Mrs. mdvipond was already sleep-suited and duveted up so I passed jr. to her, turned my own suite to bed mode and watched Big White (Robin Williams committing insurance fraud in Alaska better than is sounds) with a last glass of Bordeaux. As seems to be the norm on these night flights, the cabin temperature had been generously set somewhere between Uncomfortably Hot and Night-time In The Amazon so I eschewed the clingy sleep-suit and did the only sensible thing one could do with the duvet by using as a pillow.
Rather surprisingly, this worked a treat. I was only wearing a thin cotton shirt and my baggy flying trousers, and with the extra support of the duvet beneath my head (I like a BIG pillow) I slept right through till my fellow pax were being served with breakfast. Best part of 3 hours, I reckon, which is a new UCS record for me.
The rest of the family were up and snacking, having had a fair old kip themselves. Once Id freshened up and turned my bed back to a seat, I declined any of the solid options and went for an orange juice and espresso. Even got a choccie mint with the espresso, my kind of breakfast!
Seat belt signs went on, commencement of decent was, well, commenced and I got a first glance of a green and damp UK out of the window. No hanging around before a text book landing and on stand perhaps quarter of an hour behind schedule, which we could live with. Off the plane and through immigration in a thrice and on our way to check-in for our BA flight up to MAN.
However, as we came into arrivals I spied the Virgin Limo desk and thought after our experience in Barbados that it would be worth checking that our car from MAN back to Leeds had the pre-booked child seat in it. A nice gentleman tapped away at his keyboard and informed us that not only was he unable to confirm the presence of a car seat in our car, he was also unable to confirm the presence of a car. Not good. Apparently Virgin were aware of our impending arrival but, despite having booked it weeks in advance, had failed to pass the required information on to Tri-star.
At this point the nice gentleman went into Superman mode. With a phone to each ear he took my mobile number and told me, most reassuringly, that he would sort everything but that it was best we got a move on so as not to miss our BA flight. By the time wed checked in, my mobile rang and Superman was on the other end to inform us that hed organised a people carrier (more than enough room for unruly hang-glider!) with a child seat to be waiting for us at MAN. And it was. Tristar 1, Virgin 0.
Other than the car cock-ups (e-mail of complaint already with VS customer services) and the shifting round of seats, it was a really great flight. The food was good, I got some sleep for a change and the crew were fantastic. Now its a whole 6 months before we can do it again
