This is a Trip Report from the Upper Class cabin
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For various reasons I have not been able avail myself of any of the anticipation and excitement of planning a flight so far this year but have been reading all the entries on this site almost daily. It is always interesting to follow the electrifying lives others seem to lead and eventually the need to do something positive on the travel front became overwhelming.
With plenty of miles in my pocket the search was on for availability during the week I had pencilled in as a possibility. Great, immediately found a return to SFO in Upper Class!
Made all the arrangement for cover whilst I would be away, logged back on to book and, yes you guessed it, gone!
Not to be beaten another quick search and 100k miles and taxes had me booked on the VS95 to Vancouver, not a bad consolation all things considered. Now I know, from extensive (exhausting?) research on the site that this is not always considered the best use of miles, however as I was flying out on Sunday and returning Thursday it was a no brainer, the cash price was coming in at £5k+ because there was no Saturday stay!
Anyway that’s the preamble, on to the trip.
Flew down from MAN on Little Red the afternoon before, given the exit row to myself on what was a relatively quiet leg. This was booked direct and I was able to use one of the complementary tickets offered in some promotion a while ago. Note however I was unable to get the return free as there was no availability in that bucket at the time I wanted. Night spent at the Hilton Terminal 4.
Had a good morning workout walking from the hotel to the train and thence on to T3 where I arrived in good time for my 15.35 flight (11.15!). No queue at the UC check in and as I only had carryon bags was quickly up the lift to the private security channel. None of your x minutes from check in to Club House today though! There must have been at least a dozen others in front of me, the reason for the holdup was not apparent as I could not see round the corner however it gave us all plenty of time to strip off and prepare ourselves. It never ceases to amaze me that so called ‘frequent flyers’ always seem to forget something and have to go back to remove a belt, coins from pockets etc! You don’t catch me out like that, even my handkerchief was in the tray, but of course one of my bags got rejected by the scanner and was subjected to a search and swabbed for explosives, not too long a delay, and the guy was very pleasant.
Finally made it to the Club House with only four hours to the flight! In a break from V-flyer protocol I avoided any alcohol, for a while at least, had breakfast and a hair cut then spent some time on the terrace absorbing the fuel laden air, something I miss up here in the Lake District. Being Wimbledon there was a young lady on the terrace offering Lanson Champagne, shame to turn down such hospitality!
The flight was called on time and boarding was very smooth. Before I could settle in my seat, 5K, my jacket had been taken and champagne had arrived, shame to refuse. After a very entertaining welcome on board from the captain he advised us the flight time would be 9 hours, we pushed back on time with 214 on board.
This being African Queen (and again on the return) the IFE was as expected; fortunately pads with preloaded films were handed out in my cabin.
The CC came round with the menus, which I noticed are now folded card rather than the more impressive booklet type. My choice, for anyone interested, was:
Starter: Crayfish. Avocado and tomato tian with Melba toast.
Mains: Grilled tiger prawn salad with vegetables, glass noodles and soy dressing.
Skipped the pudding and had Cheese and Biscuits and a glass of Port.
I was welcomed back as Gold Card holder and called by name throughout, as were most of the other passengers, this being achieved by the simple act of having a copy of the manifest on the tray as they served everyone.
As is usual the first few hours passed quickly, the middle few dragged and the final one flew!
Watched a couple of films, enjoyed the ice cream and the afternoon tea from a trolley then we were on the approach to a sunny Vancouver.
I was second off the plane but because I’m not as fit as in my youth ended up fifth into the airy, deserted arrival hall. All was not lost as four of the others were Canadian leaving me with the choice of five immigration officers to welcome me into their country.
Chose the young lady nearest to the exit, as I had no luggage to collect and was looking forward to a shower at the Fairmont at the other end of the terminal. She examined my passport and customs card with interest asked the usual questions about the reason for my visit, squiggled some red felt tipped pen graffiti on it and off I went.
My rapid departure from the area was halted when I handed in the customs form after the baggage hall, “please go through that door” I was instructed. This led to a gray corridor ending in a featureless, airless hall lit with glaring fluorescent strip lights. In here I joined a queue of mainly Chinese families with huge amounts of luggage waiting for further cross examination on the reason for their visits and the contents of the cases.
If you have ever seen the documentaries such as Border Patrol etc you will be familiar with the scene.In a morbid sort of way it was interesting watching the customs and immigration officers at work, but boy were they thorough, and slow! After almost an hour it was my turn.
The lady (again) inspected my passport asked if I had been before (yes, bleeding obvious the stamps are there) and “why was I only visiting their country for five days?”
At times like these clever, though honest, replies such as “why not?” and “I didn’t know there is a minimum stay requirement?” would probably not be well received so I tried to explain the shortage of reward seats on Virgin to my preferred destination. Strangely this seemed to do the trick and after examining my return particulars escorted me to the concourse, with a “sorry to have delayed you, have a great holiday”!
With a “thank you very much” I was off like a hare to the Fairmont were after a shower and a bite to eat I watched African Queen departing back to London through the telescope thoughtfully provided in my room.
