So, what happened next?
We gathered our bits and bobs ready to depart and my new best friend en route to Riyadh got on the phone to his co-workers awaiting for him in the terminal. I waited for door L1 on which we had boarded to open but suddenly realised door L2 was open and a portion of Business Class had disembarked. There had been no announcement which, given the tight connections, would have been a help.
Quick of a flash I hopped over to the door and skipped down the stairs as lightly as one could after a sleepless night. My erstwhile seat companion noticed me as I exited and followed me down all the while chatting to his colleagues. We piled up on to the special Business Class bus and were quickly joined by the rest of the cabin. Quicker than I thought was possible we set off for our trip to the terminal. Yes!! 
We started off and progressed slowly - I think the phrase is “we limped along”.
My new best friend continued his conversation and when it was finished, announced that he had been taken off his flight. The flame of hope in my heart dimmed somewhat but still there was a five minute gap which might be bridgeable. However the bus continued to crawl along. At one stage we got snarled up in a convoy of catering trucks who decided they had priority and it seemed that at every hand’s turn we were giving way to everyone on the ramp. 
Slowly, slowly we edged our way along with me checking my watch every three seconds to the extent that anyone observing me would have decided that I had a nervous tic affecting my left wrist! In my heart and soul I felt that I had been taken off the flight but hope springs eternal in the human breast. We edged our way along a fleet of 777s at the B gates and I couldn’t help thinking that as we journeyed between the terminal and the aircraft, I was passing under the very jetway I should have been crossing at that moment of time.At 6.40am we arrived at the terminal and as we entered those portals there was a guy there who was calling “Dublin. Anyone for Dublin?” I presented myself to be informed I had been taken off the flight. On the one hand I had expected this but on the other hand I was at the stage when I really wanted to be at home and because of the disappointment, the lack of sleep on the flight and my wish to be home that night, I burst into tears.
OK, I wasn’t sobbing hysterically (I have enough self-pride) and I took myself off into a corner so as not to make an exhibition of myself and when I had gathered my composure, I asked what were the options. The guy who was dealing with me was an absolute treasure. I couldn’t praise him highly enough and if there were medals for customer service, he would win platinum!! He was kind and supportive during my tearful episode and when I was ready to talk about alternatives, told me that I would be booked on the following day’s flight to Dublin. Well I know a certain V-Flyer who lives in Dubai would have looked after me, but the reality was I wanted to be home, and I wanted to be home that day. The truth was that since Tuesday (and this was Saturday morning) I was ready to go home. I told the guy who had greeted me (whose title I cannot remember but whose name was the same as my father’s, brother’s and Aer John’s second name) that I needed to be home that day and could he please route me through LHR. I then told him I had a big ask and could he possibly route me from LHR to Cork. I told him I was aware that my destination on the EK route was Dublin but that Cork was the airport nearest to my home and that there was the possibility I might miss the last train to Cork. Quite frankly I hadn’t a clue of the time of the last train to Cork and I had no intention of finding out. He, the darling that he was, phoned and clicked on his computer and tried to accommodate me. While this was going on, passengers from other flights were arriving and instead of going to the clearly marked lines, insisted on approaching him for information. He was a master class in customer service. He politely dealt with all queries deftly while my brain was saying such things as “Feck off! Can’t you read?” and other such imprecations! While this was happening the fate of the Dublin flight was showing on the departures board. It departed at 7.15am!Finally there was a lull in the number of buses arriving with passengers from remote stands and my hero was able to concentrate on the task in hand. He tapped away on his keyboard, made a few calls and all the time reassured me that it would be sorted. At one point he came towards me with a look of abject apology nicely mixed with horror at the news he was about to convey. “Madame,” sez he, “I’m afraid we cannot get you a business class seat on any of the flights into Dublin or Cork”. He looked so hangdog about it I nearly laughed but hastily reassured him that it was quite alright; that there wasn’t a business class on those flights and in any case they were usually less than an hour. Much reassured he returned to the phone and informed them that Madame said it was OK and a few minutes later called me over and asked me if I knew the code for Cork! I calmly told him while inside I was going “Yesssssss!!” Sure enough, he presented me with boarding cards for EK29 to LHR and EI723 to Cork.
He told me my bags had been re-routed and when I mentioned the CDC in Dublin, informed me that it had been cancelled. I didn’t raise the issue about a CDC from Cork as I felt Emirates had gone above and beyond what was required in re-routing me there and in any case they would not have a contract with a company in that neck of the woods. Friends would collect me from the airport instead of the railway station. He gave me my tickets and directions as to how to get to the A gates. I thanked him profusely as I said goodbye. I was so happy with his professionalism and helpfulness that I could have kissed him, but this is Dubai we’re talking about and I could have ended up in clink!! Oh, and I excelled myself beyond measure - SEQ 479!! Beat that, if you can! 
(As an aside, a couple of weeks later as I was planning my TR’s for your delectation, I had a lightbulb moment! I had written
The list of connecting gates flashed up on the IFE but there was no sign of Dublin but at the very end of the list it said to check in the terminal along with two other destinations.
The other destinations had been Riyadh and Jedda - and of course my new best friend had been booked on the Riyadh flight. I had seen a similar message prior to landing in Dubai from Dublin and I realised that they were preparing you for the fact that you might not make the flight. I had been naive enough to think it might have meant that they had not yet decided upon the gate - true if that flight was also delayed, but the reality is different. In other words, if you are connecting in DXB and see on the list of connecting gates that yours is at the very end with a message to check in the terminal, be afraid. Be very afraid!!
)So, to return to the TR, I left my hero following his instructions to get to the A gates. Quite frankly I was all over the place; I was tired, nay exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before (and if the truth be told, the night before that), upset at leaving my family in South Africa, disappointed that I would not be at home as early as I had planned, elated that I was flying into Cork and that I didn’t have to take the train back down there from Dublin (one of my concerns was the physical effort of loading two cases on the train in Dublin and offloading them in Cork since the latter station suffers seriously from the Mind the Gap syndrome
and I had acquired a second bag) and just plain bone weary! I went through the security channel alongside the area where my hero had waved his magic wand and followed his directions to the train for the A gates. O MY GOD! It was horrendous! It wouldn’t have been so bad if I was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, if I hadn’t been drowning in exhaustion, if I were a shopaholic! I walked and walked and walked and walked. The Mall of the Emirates was a quick trot around Debenhams in Oxford Street by comparison! It became quite clear to me why I had been taken off the flight - it would have taken the best part of half an hour to reach the gate! The signage wasn’t the best and occasionally petered out but I suppose I am airport-savvy enough to follow my instincts and eventually I found the gates to the train and was immediately was in familiar territory. When I had been deposited in the airport from my overnight stay I had come to this point from a much shorter route from the opposite side of the terminal. A train arrived almost immediately and I was whisked to the A gates where the lifts and escalators were to bring me up to the Business Lounge. I recognised the area from my entry there a couple of weeks earlier but now I was heading to Gate A3 at the opposite end of the area to my previous visit.On my way to the Lounge area I was aware that there was nothing I would like more than a shower and with it, the realisation I could have one.
I was warmly welcomed into the lounge and quickly sussed out where the showers were located. Of course, this being Dubai there were separate showers for men and women and no-one manning (or should that be womanning) the female showers but a quick knock at the door brought a response. I was ushered into a shower not unlike those in Revivals but there the contrast ended. By contrast the showers in DXB were clean enough but in contrast to those in Revivals, especially when you consider the turn over, they were distinctly grubby! Having said that I really relished the shower and after I dressed, bemoaned the lack of face cream until I remembered the BVLGARI amenity kit and as if in answer to a prayer, facial moisturiser was on offer. I felt a bit more able to face the world and headed to the gate area which was quite full but just as I was trying to suss out a place to settle down, a flight was called and all of a sudden the place opened up and seating was readily available. We were near a satellite area where there was a bar area together with a self-service area with breakfast items, coffee machine and snacks. Still weary and with limited time at my disposal since the flight was scheduled for 9.40am and the rescheduling of my flight together with the traipse to the A gates followed by my shower had eaten into the less than three hours available to me, I nabbed a coffee and a croissant as I sent messages to my friends in Ireland and apprised them of my change in circumstances, well aware of the time difference and well aware that they were still in the Land of Nod!
I suppose I just had about half an hour or so before boarding was called. As far as I’m concerned, the jury is still out about the Lounge in Dubai. On both my visits I really didn’t have much time to suss it out properly. Because it stretched the length of the terminal and was broken into gate areas it looked quite empty at times, especially as there were also different dining options. I missed the buzz of the Clubhouse and the people-watching opportunities, and if there was waiter service, well then it eluded me. I did, however like boarding from the lounge and the efficient way it was conducted. We were directed to lifts either for the lower or upper deck depending on our seat number and as the lifts only held a limited number of people it meant there wasn’t any crowding at the doors.
I was welcomed on board by name and directed to my seat. It was 17B and I had been grumbling a little under my breath about having an aisle seat - only a teensy-tiny bit you understand. After all, I was eternally grateful to be on my way home and also to be flying into Cork. To be complaining about an aisle seat was extremely churlish under the circumstances. However, when I reached by seat I realised that although it was an aisle seat, there was no-one in what would have been the window seat. Instead there was a shelf with headphones and at the back a little cabinet with soft drinks. There was an alcove in front of my seat where I could store my carry-on if I so wished and above it a shelf which served as a footstool and also would be part of the lie-flat bed. All of this was under the main shelf of the seat in front as the person there had proper window seat. Very nifty, I thought. And I was delighted not to have anyone crawling over me to get out.
I quickly settled in to my seat and the cabin crew assigned to my area was almost instantly by my side offering to help and, more importantly offering a glass of champagne. I wasn’t addressed by name but as “Madame” which made me sound far more elegant and sophisticated than the more prosaic Mrs honey lamb. (OK, you lot that know me you can quit falling about laughing at the thought of my being elegant and sophisticated and there’ll be no mention of pole-dancing or falling off escalators, if you please!
) However to keep up with the persona awarded me, I graciously accepted and later accepted a refill. Veuve Cliquot Gold, no less! Much better than the Laurent Perrier than served on all the other EK legs! We took off slightly late but I wasn’t too worried about that as I would have a long-ish layover in LHR (but not half as long as I would have had if they had not re-routed me) and again watched take-off from the forward and the the downward camera. I had hoped we would fly out to sea and perhaps be able to view The Palm and The Islands of the World but it was not to be. Almost immediately after take-off, the cabin crew came round for drinks orders and of course I had a G&T which was followed by another one. I was offered the choice between crisps and olives and as I hate olives the choice was easy. I noticed that several crew members circulated through the cabin topping up the glasses of those who had chosen wine as their pre-dinner (or should that be lunch?) tipple. Several times! Lunch orders were taken. Now, if you haven’t fallen asleep because of my ramblings, you will recall that I had not slept on the overnight leg and neither the shower and the subsequent coffee and croissant nor the champagne and the subsequent G&T had succeeded in reviving me. I really felt too tired to eat and decided I would only have a starter and dessert. I can’t remember what was on the menu except that there was a beef fillet which seems to be a staple in J on most flights and quite honestly, I was a tad bored with it. On VS flights ex-DXB there had often been a lamb dish and that might have tempted me, but I decided that I would stick with my choice and ordered soup and a creme brulee dessert. In fairness to the cabin crew assigned to me, he tried to get me to change my mind, but no! All I wanted to do was sleep.
I enjoyed my G&Ts, feeling confident that they would send me into the Land of Nod. The soup was delivered to me and it was delicious! I can’t remember what it was but I savoured it! However it had an unexpected (by me) side effect. My taste buds which had fallen asleep immediately after my meal on the DUR-DXB and had slumbered peacefully throughout breakfast, landing, my time in the lounge and the pre-take off and pre-dinner drinks, woke up, yawned, stretched and started kicking around my mouth demanding food! The result was that I was beginning to feel peckish and I hoped that the cabin crew would come by to see if I was alright, in which case I would ask about the possibility of changing my mind. Of course, if I had been in my right mind and not operating in a fog of exhaustion, I would have used my call bell and asked but such an easy solution did not come to me. In any case, I am well used to cabin crew coming round during the meal service just checking in to see if everything was OK, but it did not happen here. Somewhere along the line the soup was swapped for the dessert but it wasn’t “my” cabin crew but some interloper who snuck up from behind and effected the change with the speed of lightning, so no chance of asking there then. Ah well! I’ve no-one to blame but myself as I could have/should have ordered a main course (my excuse, apart from the tiredness, is that I hate to see food wasted)
The creme brulee was delicious but once I had demolished it, I decided it was time I escaped to the Land of Nod.
![][|)](./images/smilies/icon_smile_sleepy.gif "Sleepy"){kind=icon}
On all the other EK flights the crew had come round with “mattresses” but there was no sign of this happening here and decided that, since it was a much different seat, there might not be one. I converted the seat, rejoicing in the fact that I didn’t have to flip over the seat as on VS and SQ; closed the window blind with the electronic control which initially just blocks out glare and then at a second touch of the button, closes fully; snapped on the eye mask which was in the very sparse amenity kit awaiting on the shelf and stuffed in the earplugs from my last VS flight and snuggled down under the fleecy blanket ready to drift off in the arms of Morpheus. Except that Morpheus was nowhere to be seen! He’d obviously missed the flight - either that or else he was canoodling with some hussy in the First Class Suites! And as for his Roman counterpart, Somnus, he was nowhere to be seen either. In vain I begged and beseeched them to come to me but no. They too, had put in their earplugs! 
After a couple of hours of tossing and turning, I gave up and converted my seat back to its original state. As I have mentioned on the other TRs, the IFE wasn’t that great and so I occupied myself with my iPad for a time but I soon got bored with that and decided to visit the bar. It was an inspired decision.
The bar area at the rear of the upper deck is far more spacious than the ones on VS. There are no bar stools but there is some very comfortable seating, complete with seat belts along the fuselage of the plane and a very roomy area in front of the bar itself. There was a bottle of champagne on ice and I decided that there was nothing I wanted more than a glass of champagne which soon was in my possession. Along the bar was a selection of snacks such as nuts, crisps and olives and after the first mouthful of nuts, the taste buds, which had gone into a major sulk at the sparsity of dinner, came alive and once more demanded food. I denuded two dishes which were rapidly refilled but at some stage I noticed a menu card and some hot dishes were on the menu - mini baked potatoes, mini quiches, prawns in filo pastry and a few others which I cannot not remember. I asked for some and in the fullness of time they were delivered up, piping hot and very tasty and just what I needed. They were served on a stand resembling the cake stands on VS flights and were delicious. Although they were available to all, no-one else seemed to be interested in them and so I scoffed the lot! All washed down with a couple more glasses of champagne. I did miss the chat with the crew and other passengers but I attribute that to the lack of bar stools. After all, there’s nothing like perching on a bar stool and chatting to the people sitting beside you! While this was going on, tea or coffee and a snack was being served to those who had remained in their seats. No doubt I would have been able to have ordered the snacks I did but I really did enjoy my time in the bar. Oh and they did have magazines other than ones like the Economist, Time, Yachting and Golf ones. All too soon we were heading to LHR and I went back to my seat. The crew, apart from their absence during the meal service, had been excellent and while I had not been addressed by name, I had been called “Madame” which made me feel special (especially delivered by a very handsome young man!
) We arrived more or less on time in LHR and taxied to Gate 3 which meant a shorter than usual trot to the corridor leading to Border Control. I however, took the Flight Connections route and was deposited in T1 coming in to the Departure Lounge at a different area to where I usually arrive when coming from the T1 check-in area. It was heaving and so I decided to make my way to the ROI departure gates even though there was a couple of hours or more to spare. I rather like that place even though it is a bit bleak in between flights because it does have good runway views.In the fullness of time, my plane arrived from Cork. It was scheduled to depart at 18.05 and I had been assigned seat 23C. It was obvious from the crowd that assembled that the loads were very light which was confirmed to me when they did not board by rows as per usual. My row was empty and after take-off I shifted over to 23A. I had one of EI’s excellent toasted ham and cheese sandwiches (their food is in-house and trialled on their staff in DUB including Aer John) and a G&T. The flight took off ten minutes early and arrived twenty minutes early so there was no-one there to meet me but a quick call put that right and soon I was home where there was no sign of Puss!
So what did I think of EK?
Well, using the comparison with VS, if I take the three legs on the 777 fleet, it was more reminiscent of a PE flight than a UC one. The leg room wasn’t much bigger and I didn’t appreciate the fact that there were no lie-flat beds on the overnight routes. I know some of the 777s have them but on the DUB-DXB-DUR route they were all sleeperettes. Fortunately, it was only the DUR-DXB leg that I really needed to sleep; unfortunately the bed was uncomfortable and so I didn’t. The IFE was another bone of contention. Although they boasted about the number of films etc., because they serve so many markets there is a high percentage of foreign films; TV shows are mostly American ones and what films are shown are heavily edited to a ludicrous extent. Take your iPad! The food was great. And the wine selection and I will forgive them for only having Gordon's gin. The crew was mixed. Some were great, some not so great. I appreciated the FSM equivalent coming to chat to me about my connection on the return journey from DUR and I have to say that the interaction with the crew on the A380 leg from DXB was good. I had experienced the A380 on SQ and found the service a tad mechanical. I was addressed by name from a manifest and felt that all the time they were doing everything by rote. On EK I was addressed by name a couple of times and the rest of the time it was “Madame” and apart from the absence of crew at the meal time on the A380, they were lovely and much nicer than the SQ crew who are usually held up as the gold standard.
Having said all that, while I can honestly say I didn’t have a bad flight on EK, the comparison of the J offering on the A380 leg compared with the 777 legs was cruel but I really and truly have to say that you cannot beat the VS crew when they are in top form. The best EK leg was comparable with a “good enough” leg on a VS flight and we all know that “good enough” is not good enough. But yes, I will fly EK again, if the price is right.
So, that is the end of my saga. I have no future flights planned at the moment. Sorry!
