“The Holiday Inn………..…Really?” I thought as I shook my head in horror. :shock:
“I’m sure that will be all rather lovely” I found myself saying. She was ironing again.
“At $180 for the night and your car parking covered for the week it is a bargain, and you know how you like a bargain” Griselda responded.
I do like a bargain and I am rather partial to the weekly Aldi specials flyer, but Holiday Inns hardly fitted the international playboy image I was nurturing, some may say already nurtured, for myself.
So on top of flying in economy I was now staying at Holiday Inn’s, life really doesn’t get any better does it? (Although who can forget the Formule 1 in Belo Horizonte? I certainly can’t.)
“……errrr……..errr hang on a minute?” It had finally registered with me. “Why do I need car parking for the week?”
“You know I can’t drive you this time” said Griselda. “It is the second round of the Collingwood Mixed Heavyweight Freestyle Wrestling competition and you know I’ll be in the ring when you need to get to the airport”
I shuddered at the thought of Griselda in her Kendo Nagasaki outfit, complete with full face mask, and resigned myself to the inevitable, tortuous drive to Tullamarine. #sigh#
Was the Holiday Inn at Melbourne Airport really that bad? It is functional, I usually get upgraded to the soundproofed rooms on the top (8th Floor) and to be fair the beds are comfortable. It looks and feels dated but on the whole it meets my basic needs. This would, of course, not stop me complaining bitterly, via email, to Griselda.
Upon arrival I went through the normal process of checking that my details were correct because despite Griselda allegedly entering my IHG number at the time of booking the Holiday Inn at Melbourne airport invariably confuses me with another Tony Hancock. I know, seriously I do, I know what you are thinking - there can only be one Tony Hancock. The Holiday Inn scored an impressive 3 out of 5 for getting the booking correct. Only my IHG number was incorrect this time. I have no idea how they manage to get this wrong so frequently so just assume it is some sort of scam. :?:
After changing into my white polyester lounge suit I made my way down to the small, but cosy, ground floor bar and ordered a Dry Martini, with two olives and most definitely stirred, not shaken. The rather blank look from the bartender made it very clear that it was going to be a lot easier and quicker, and most certainly cheaper, if I just ordered a glass of the house red. There did not seem to be any place for the sort of sophistication I was bringing to the bar.
The one thing I was grateful to Griselda for was getting Qantas to move the Sydney to Shanghai flight to 10:50 AM, I assume it was her that did this. It made for a slightly later start and an avoidance of the 6:00 AM QF400 to Sydney. I had hoped that Griselda would have used her all persuasive charms to encourage Qantas to change the daily Sydney/Shanghai service to Melbourne but alas she failed. It seems that Mr Joyce was impervious to Griselda’s “allure”.
"Mr Hancock" Griselda said in the sort of tone that can only signal bad news. "The flight from Sydney to Shanghai has been delayed by fifty minutes.......and.....and the aeroplane has been changed"
Neither piece of news seemed particularly bad, Griselda had already organised a connection time in Sydney they would have seen me having to rush breakfast so a delay had to be good, and I had no idea why she was telling me about a change of aeroplane.
"The aeroplane has been newly refitted and the the row you were in does not exist any more."
Alarm bells rang, if there was one thing Griselda wasn't completely useless at it was sorting my seats out. Whilst suffering economy I was at least in the first row with an empty seat next to me. This, despite repeated efforts from a team at Qantas dedicated to finding a seat mate for me.
"You are still in the first row.....but......but.....you have someone sitting next to you."
I was somewhat perplexed by this.....surely it was just a case of moving all passengers back one row? Why did I now have a seat mate? The Platinum One Special Services team had succeeded again. I really did wonder if Griselda had added a note line to my profile along the lines of "Gets lonely please find a seat mate, preferably large and noisy."
The Qantas domestic experience requires arrival at the gate a good 35 minutes before departure to join the "premium boarding" queue. With Qantas opting not to offer priority boarding, actually let me rephrase that, with Qantas offering priority boarding but then not actually delivering it, arriving at the gate early is essential if you are the type of traveler that likes your overhead locker space above your seat.
The first person to board the plane was from the non priority lane and was on his way before the boarding announcement for Business Class, Platinum etc etc had even been made. I have just about given up on Qantas domestic but do finish up stuck with them when I have an international connection in Sydney.
In flight service is difficult to knock. Qantas has it down pat. A full aircraft was duly served breakfast with tea and coffee on the short flight.
Sydney airport is nothing short of a disaster for any self respecting DYKWIA and Qantas lets the side down more than most. One would think that, as a minimum, there would be a host to meet me as I arrived and whisk me over to International Terminal in a limousine…..but no. I, once again, found myself on a bus with the normal travellers. There is no dedicated priority lane for people like me and I have to push past the steady flow of tourists to get to the diplomatic and crew immigration lane.
One always feels a little sorry for Sydney, as Australia's second city it does seem a little neglected, some may say it has that third world feel about it. We'll certainly the airport anyway. I wondered if there should be a few collection boxes scattered around where we could perhaps make small contributions to help this desperately poor airport.
Surprisingly the immigration and security process was very efficient. Admittedly the crew lanes are excellent, as long as there aren't multiple international crews heading through, and even more surprisingly I was directed through crew security. Usually I am despatched to the regular lanes and have to trek to priority security at the other end of the immigration/security area.
After the battle through duty free and the brief escalator trip I find myself exchanging pleasantries with Nathan, Nestor was not on door duty, at the First Class lounge entrance. I suspect he, like me, wonders why Qantas lets the Qantas Platinum and OneWorld Emerald types in, overcrowding the restaurant and lowering the tone of what could have been the world’s finest First Class Lounge.
I knew it was not my place to complain about this though and to do my best to impart my own particular refinement to improve the surroundings. There are very few of us that can carry off the thongs and singlet look with dignity but I pride myself in being one of them. These days I draw the line at a mankini though.
The lounge was a zoo. It always is at this time of year. Screaming children, parents on smartphones, a wait for tables in the three restaurant areas. Another reminder why BA has it so right at Heathrow Terminal 5. Not for the first time I found myself yearning for the Concorde Room.
It was time for breakfast, and what better way to start the day than with a Dry Martini, two olives, stirred and not shaken…oh yes and the eggs benedict with smoked salmon. I knew I had to eat now because it was unlikely that the Fred Perry Y delights would be remotely inspirational.
The usually excellent service was a little ragged as staff struggled to cope with wave after wave of, presumably platinum frequent flyers, appeared. It took a good five minutes of wandering to find a seat after breakfast. Things did not improve until QF127 was called. The First Lounge experience was poor.....sadly just too many people with access.
Unusually I was flying under my QF number today, it has been a rarity. Griselda informs me that the BA Tier Points earn on such a disgustingly cheap fare made it pointless, almost literally, to use my BA number. This of course would mean I would be pampered and loved by the flight attendants for my shiny Platinum One status. My newly found seat mate would be awestruck by the levels the crew would go to just to ensure my comfort and satisfaction.
As 11:40 turned to 12:20 it was clear that this was going to be a long, long day. The crew arrived at 11:30, the non priority queue snaked back through the terminal.
I think my seat mate may have also been important, like me, because the Customer Service Manager and Cabin Supervisor both ensured we received regular drink top ups from the Business Class section.
It, fortunately, has been a while since I last suffered the indignity of Qantas long haul economy so it came as quite a surprise that the food offering was not as bad as it could have been. The beef and noodles was actually edible….as was the chocolate mousse. The serving sizes were half decent too. Perhaps Fred Perry was putting a bit more work into the inspiration side of things.
This would be my first Qantas flight to Shanghai since the change to terminal one. Griselda had briefed me on this. I expected a hovel, like Sydney, but the arrivals side was all rather smooth and one has to adore the “special lane”. If ever a lane was made for a genuine DYKWIA it is that one.
Having safely negotiated my way to the Hilton, I had to suffer a taxi no less, I prepared for the long week ahead.......
