2016 The Hancock Year of Hell

[drron]

I look forward to seeing what happens when Griselda books you on JQ to Asia. That will be heaven to read.

I feel we would never get to read such a report.Instead somewhere on the TV news or in the papers we would have headlines-
Melbourne Woman found dead at her Computer.Single gunshot to head.

Or-Prominent Businessman found dead in his seat on Jetstar flight to Singapore.

 

[TomVexille]

I feel we would never get to read such a report.Instead somewhere on the TV news or in the papers we would have headlines-
Melbourne Woman found dead at her Computer.Single gunshot to head.

Or-Prominent Businessman found dead in his seat on Jetstar flight to Singapore.

Surely that first one would be - Prominent Businessman strangled by Secretary in self defense

 

[penegal]

I think I have met Griselda once?

She didn't strike me as the Jetstar type...

 

[TonyHancock]

I resolved to remain positive for my return journey to Melbourne, the pragmatic side of me attempted to break through and accept that there was little that could be done to change my plight. Having fought my way through the business class check in line, the special immigration and special security lanes my resolve finally failed me upon entry to VIP Lounge 69. More specifically it was the alcoholic beverages section that did for me. Ordinarily I am not overly picky when it comes to spirits and at a pinch will tolerate the odd glass of Johnny Walker Blue Label if nothing better is available but what on earth was “Jack Daniel’s Whiskey”? It sounded like the sort of thing that young men, on The Gold Coast, wearing singlet tops, would consume after mixing it with Coca Cola.



The alternatives were pretty thin. I say alternatives but I actually mean alternative in the singular….and that was Stolichnaya vodka. I poured myself a triple measure of “Jack Daniels” and helped myself to a couple of sandwiches. I think the last time I had tasted SPAM was back in the 1990’s at a Second World War theme night so having it in a sandwich at a “First Class” airport lounge was a genuine novelty for me. :shock:

Inwardly I cried as I realised I would not be able to consume enough alcohol to numb the pain of the forthcoming journey. This had more to do with the inability of the lounge staff to replace the bottles of “Jack Daniels” as fast as I could drink them rather than my own drinking capabilities.

The one bright spot was that the close proximity of the Cathay Pacific Lounge meant that I was able to utilise their interweb connection rather than the utterly dreadful SPIA effort in lounge 69. (My typewriter with a television screen had rather cleverly remembered the password from my January visit.)

My seat number puzzled me. Whilst I had learned that there are as many as 44 rows on an aeroplane on my journey out I could not believe that there might be 81….which was the row number I was in for the flight to Singapore. My assumption was that this was a typographical error and I confidently expected a beep at the gate as I sat in contemplation with my second pint of “Jack Daniel’s Whiskey”.

“I think you need to double check the seat number”, I said confidently to the gate agent.

“It is correct” was the immediate response.

I was baffled…..but don’t worry that soon turned to alarm as I realised I could not get much further back on the aeroplane. There was at least one piece of good news and that was a free seat next to me. I hastily arranged my various possessions in such a way as to dissuade any potential seat thief.



Unusually, for Shanghai, we left more or less on time and I settled in to a movie or two on the small television device Griselda had set up for me.

“What would you like to drink?” the rather attractive airhostess asked.

“A bloody Mary please” I answered “but hold off on the tomato juice, Worcestershire sauce and any other accompaniments.”

The airhostess gave me a quizzical look as she poured my drink and handed it over to me.

I had recently switched to Bloody Mary’s in a bid to help achieve my “five a day”, so took satisfaction that having two of these took me 40% of the way to my goal.

After a brief visit to the Dnata lounge at Singapore airport it was time to board the flight back to Melbourne. Another 7hours plus of purgatory awaited me, and Griselda had been unable to purchase an exit row seat. Instead she had selected a “window” seat in the first economy cabin, near the galley, and with only one other seat in the row. The aeroplane interior looked in dire need of a refresh and someone had, rather unkindly, filled “my” window in.




The view from 44A

Ever the one to solve life’s problems I whiled away the hours in the air addressing one of the big issues with economy seats and once again have created a simple solution. If the seat were to extend and recline into the fully flat position there would be far fewer complaints from passengers. I wondered why no one had thought of this before.

After finally landing at Melbourne, we were circling somewhere called Bendigo for what seemed an age, and then endured a visit from a quarantine officer before being released, I hurried past as many passengers as possible in a bid to reduce the time it would take to clear immigration and customs. I often wonder why people dawdle along and can only assume that they take some form of pleasure from waiting in queues.

I was glad my economy trip was over, but like others before me who had endured great extremes I felt some satisfaction in my achievement. Like Captain Scott and Edmund Hillary before me I had conquered the impossible. (Although to be fair Captain Scott was a bit of a failure.) I did wonder whether my epic feat my earn me something in the New Year’s Honours List, but fear I may not get the beep at the gate again.

I would have almost a week before my next flight....but at least this was a quick day trip to that most third world of Australian cities.

 

[Pushka]

Great view! I can see why you have the window shades up!

Family shots - a nice touch! Or is that a recent photo of Griselda! :shock:

 

[JessicaTam]

I am enjoying this report so much. I am particularly looking forward to next week's instalment concerning your journey to Sydney.

 

[Simo]

Loving the TR so far

 

[TonyHancock]

“Woollen what?” I queried with some incredulity.

“Wollongong “ Griselda responded wearily.

“The tennis player?” I asked, simultaneously projecting a sense of utter bewilderment.

“No, not the tennis player, it is a city south of Sydney” Griselda sounded a little annoyed now.

What on earth was Captain Cook thinking of when he was naming these places, it would have been far simpler, and probably fairer, to stick to proper names like, Derby, Manchester or Ashby De La Zouche. Instead I was faced with visiting places I couldn’t even begin to pronounce, let alone spell. More worryingly I would have to fly to Sydney.

I have never really understood Sydney, I am sure, like Port Moresby, Harare, Kabul, or Wolverhampton, it has plenty of good things going for it, but I have yet to find any. For a start the half-hearted skyscrapers give the appearance of a “wannabe” American city, then there is that dreadful pretentious art nouveau opera house, and wouldn’t you think that once the tunnels under the harbour were completed they would have knocked down that concrete and steel monstrosity of a bridge?

In some respects a visit to Sydney was good though…in that it served as a reminder of how lucky I was to live in Melbourne.

My last flight on a Virgin aeroplane had been back in August of last year………….apparently. (Griselda keeps track of all this sort of stuff.) It wasn’t a case of avoiding Virgin it was just that the vast majority of my travel had been international and Europe bound in particular.

Griselda’s refusal to drive me to the airport for my 6:45 AM departure left me pouring over her workplace agreement and kicking myself for not adding a clause stating that her role was 24 hours a day. I had contemplated taking a train, but this would have still required me to utilise buses and I would have had to leave my home three days prior to my flight to stand any chance of getting to the airport in time. Perhaps there was an opportunity for me to resolve Victoria’s transport crisis?

The VA Lounge at Melbourne is not bad at all; the coffee “station” is a marginal step up from the Qantas Business lounge equivalent. The downside is the lighting, which at 6:00 AM, was a touch on the harsh side.



For those that are not aware the lounge is landside, but a couple of years ago premium security was added to the exit which all works rather well. I might suggest that I prefer it to the free for all security at the Qantas domestic terminal.

Virgin delivers priority boarding with aplomb. What an absolute pleasure, and of course right, to rock up in the priority boarding lane and be processed immediately. It still amazes me that Qantas is completely and utterly unable to provide priority boarding, but what ho, there was, yet another, $600, soon to be $700 in revenue Qantas had lost.



The toasted egg and bacon sandwich was everything Fred Perry appears to be incapable of inspiring at Qantas and went down a treat as we soared towards the NSW border.





Well this was not going well. I received a text from my colleague letting me know his Qantas flight would be 45 minutes late getting into Sydney. This would be a problem. We had to get to [-]Wolen[/-] [-]Woolen[/-] [-]Willon[/-] Port Kembla get a at least a couple of hours of work done and be back for my 4:15 PM flight. Mmmmmm this was not going to work.

“……but I thought it was a flexible flight” I asked with some incredulity.

“Yes it is…. which is why we can change it.” An exasperated Griselda responded.

“…but $100 to change?” I queried.

“Yes” was the rather taciturn response.

I resigned myself to the additional $100 cost, agreed to the change to 5:30 PM, consoled myself that I would reclaim it from Griselda’s salary, and settled into a brief stint in the Virgin lounge at Sydney.

[-]Willie[/-] [-]Woolie[/-] Port Kembla was everything and less I had expected, but at least it wasn’t a pretentious dung heap like Sydney, and with the necessary work done it was soon time to escape NSW.

I rather like the premium entry to the Virgin lounge at Sydney. I have yet to enter there and not waltz straight through security. The alternative is, quite frankly, beastly. The prospect of entering the check in area, jointly populated with Jetstar types frightened me.



“Catering not assured?” I queried at the service desk.

“Sorry but your upgrade has only just been processed, the meal service cannot be guaranteed” The young lady responded.

Richard Branson would be hearing about this and I called Griselda immediately.

Once again priority boarding worked, so Virgin had infinitesimally beaten Qantas at that game today, given that Qantas would have failed at every gate in every port as per usual. Don’t get me wrong; I do understand how hard this is. Not every airline can meet the demanding needs of priority boarding, although it is probably easier to count those that can’t on the fingers of one hand. It is not the inability of Qantas to provide priority boarding that annoys me, it is the pretence that it is offered that does. I would have more respect for Qantas if the marketing team simply said: “Qantas is a bit on the rubbish side at this and despite almost every carrier in the world offering priority boarding Qantas is unable to.” At least we would know where we stood. :?:

The chicken dish, like breakfast earlier, impressed me, not he slightest hint of Fred Perry inspiration. I really do like the Virgin business product on the Boeing 737’s. The cabin always seems light and airy compared to Qantas. I particularly enjoy the Virgin Crew’s defence of overhead locker space and their eagerness to prevent the economy types swamping the cabin at disembarkation.

It is likely I might get a couple of weeks off from flying, but fear I may have to head up to that dreadful third world city again before the end of March.

 

[OATEK]

Perhaps Griselda could claw something back for us Sydney-siders by conveying you in Tiger next time!

 

[drron]

Here in Bangkok I found the reason why Fred has let the level of his food slip.He has spread himself too thin-

.

 

[Happy Trails]

Here in Bangkok I found the reason why Fred has let the level of his food slip.He has spread himself too thin-

.

As a teenage skinhead in the sixties, Fred Perry was de rigueur.
Now I'm just an ageing pinhead my sixties.

 

[TonyHancock]

“What do you mean….that could have been me?” I asked as my mouth turned into a wavy line often seen on cartoon characters.

“If the last minute upgrade had not cleared you would have been out there too.” Griselda hissed.

“….but those people were wandering around on the tarmac….outside……climbing steps at the back of the aeroplane.” It seemed preposterous to me.

“Yes, Virgin uses both the rear and front doors to board the aircraft and the only access to the rear door is from the tarmac” Griselda appeared quite knowledgeable on the subject.

“How on earth could you have got me into such a position?” This was a serious question. “I can’t possibly be seen boarding aircraft through the tradesman’s entrance.”

“Things are tight and there is no money in the budget for these trips to Sydney, it all has to be economy with the hope of a points upgrade, and it is not as easy as it used to be”

It was a narrow escape, apparently 18C was the best Griselda could do for seat selection having booked less than 24 hours prior to travel. I wondered what on earth I was, very nearly, paying her for.

The good news was that the return flight later in the day had already seen a successful upgrade to business class.


Planey things at Melbourne Airport, with people wandering about on the tarmac.


Big planey thing at Melbourne Airport

Today’s jaunt to Sydney would see me tackling the road system out to [-]Parrra[/-] [-]Pirrim[/-] [-]Prarimata[/-] Silverwater. The road system is one area where I can find similarities with Melbourne and I do wonder whether the same buffoons responsible for Melbourne’s utterly dire road network had played a hand in developing Sydney’s utterly dire road network. Of course there is another theory…..perhaps those responsible knew exactly what they were doing and are sniggering away at me as I attempt to merge into a single lane to enter a tunnel on the M5, only to merge again into another lane immediately. How they must giggle at the long queus and frustrated motorists what larks it must be to them. :shock:

I was grumpy today, well grumpier than usual, the meeting had been called at the last minute and involved me leaving home at 5:30 AM to beat the traffic to Melbourne Airport. My return flight was not until after 6:00 PM and this was off the back of as late night video conference with colleagues in the UK. I was seriously thinking about a career change, but there seem to be so few jobs where swanning about and drinking excessively were core requirements……..unless I could enter the world of politics. I lack any moral fibre and would certainly charter a helicopter at the tax payers expense when I needed to pop down the road for a Barbecue. Perhaps I could scam a decent allowance and replace Griselda with a capable secretary or keep Griselda and pocket the allowance. I would have to think about this.

As we came in to land at Sydney airport I thought deeply about what it would have been like to land at Botany Bay with Captain Cook all those years ago. I suppose that whilst it would have been disappointing to see the oil terminal the many cranes would have been jolly handy for loading and unloading the ships so not all bad.



I must say I do rather like the fancy text message from Avis telling me where my car is located. I am not sure whether Griselda sorts this out or whether it is a standard offering but it handy to just walk straight to the car……providing one knows where section F actually is. How was I supposed to know it was not in the undercover section where all of the other Avis cars are? After thirty minutes of wandering I headed to the office and sought directions.

Avis supplied a rather large shooting brake*, apparently some sort of General Motors vehicle, with dreadful faux leather and a fare acreage of internal plastic. It got me to my destination though, via something called “Subway” which was an eatery chosen by my colleague. This was an interesting experience where a chap in a pair of plastic gloves thrust all kinds of plastic looking meats, along with salad items and plastic cheese into a roll………..ensuring they would all fall out once the wrapping was removed. I probably won’t be trying this again now I know what it is.

Of all the many innovations and marketing gimmicks Virgin has produced I find the premium lounge entry at Sydney to be one of the best. My only complaint is that it is right at the end of the terminal and next to none of the normal travellers can see one use it. The whole point of being important is that other people can see it. Entering the lounge through this private ante room is quite marvellous though and makes the security process almost bearable.

Virgin also excels when it comes to its fly forward policy. Griselda books a flexible fare for my return flights in the knowledge that I will be desperately trying to shirk work and get back to Melbourne early. Today was to be no exception and the rather pleasant lady behind the service desk duly handed over a boarding pass for a flight one and three quarter hours earlier………and my upgrade to business class was still in place.

March has come and gone and we are a quarter of the way through 2016. Griselda tells me I have taken 42 flights and flown 100,497 miles this year. April ia scheduled to be another 35k+ miles month…..apparently. :shock:

TTFN



*One for the teenagers there!

 

[TonyHancock]

In a far off place (………..well Melbourne)….sometime in mid March

“Well that is not going to happen Ms Pugh” I was rather terse.

“The alternatives are not very convenient” she responded with the sort of look that would bring down a bull elephant at two hundred paces.

“I don’t care” I was feeling in command now.

“OK, but don’t complain when you actually have to make this trip then.” Griselda spat out.

The present day……..

“It’s ridiculous” I spluttered to my less than competent secretary.

“I did try and tell you” she smugly responded.

“…..but I don’t arrive until almost 2:00 PM and then I have to stay the night and return on a 2:30 PM flight”
“Indeed” Griselda muttered.

I had decided not to fly Jetstar domestically, unless there was a visit to a decent First Class lounge involved, and found myself in travel schedule hell because of this. Newcastle, which bizarrely for me is near Cardiff, is not the easiest place to get to from Melbourne without using that most dreadful of airlines.

According to Griselda there was only one direct flight a day from Melbourne to Newcastle with Virgin Australia and I had been insistent to taking this to avoid the utterly beastly Jetstar. I was willing to risk another priority boarding failure an fly with Qantas but that was not even a remote possibility according to Ms Pugh. It wouldn’t have been so bad but for another trip to Blighty looming on Friday. :shock:

All things being considered I suppose a pleasant evening at the Crowne Plaza on Newcastle Harbour wasn’t a bad way to pass away a night but it did seem a bit of a waste.

It had been a stressful week so far with the shocking news that Helen had stabbed her husband, Rob, in what appeared to be the first ever murder in 65 years of “The Archers”. Fortunately he survived but the impact on village cricket team will be catastrophic for the 2016 season. I have stopped Miss Pugh from listening to the wireless lest she gets ideas she should steer well clear of.

There was a bit of pattern being established with my Virgin Australia travel. Griselda would book the return trips but only one leg would be available for upgrade on each one. My name would be waitlisted for upgrade, nothing would come of it, and I would have to go to the desk in the lounge to secure the upgrade and the little sticker that announced that full catering was not assured. It was all rather annoying and Griselda had already dispatched two letters to the beardy man back in Blighty to resolve these issues.


A Virgin planey thing

The lounge was almost empty and I secured a jolly peaceful little spot near the window which had a power point. Miss Pugh had given me the instruction to make sure my phone had the requisite amount of electricity to keep operating. (Apparently I had not been doing this correctly.) I tried to use something called the interweb in the lounge but my blessed new fangled type writer with a screen kept badgering me for a password. I soon gave up.

Whilst not up there with Skegness, Newcastle is a mighty fine place to visit. I do wonder why it has not been discovered by the people of Sydney……….presumably one day they will venture north and ruin it. The golden sand and blue seas aren’t bad at all and The Crowne Plaza, overlooking the harbour, is a particularly pleasant place to stay. The reception staff knew exactly who I was and a Harbour View King Spa Suite on the top floor awaited me.


Not exactly Skegness but not bad.

After a good night’s sleep, a gentle stroll, and eggs benedict in a restaurant on the harbour, I readied myself for the return journey.


I really prefer my Orange Juice from a glass but restaurants seem to want to persevere with the "rustic" feel.

“What do you mean there is no lounge?” I was almost in tears.

“Newcastle is quite a small airport and doesn’t have a Virgin or Qantas lounge” Griselda responded.

I was struggling to comprehend this; it was not part of my usual travel experience. Even at remote outposts in China I was able to access a lounge. Even Sydney airport had a lounge.

“So let me get this right, I will have to spend forty-five minutes in a departure “lounge” with a tribe of Jetstar passengers?”

“err….err…..err yes” said Griselda, I sensed she was smiling

At least I was able to march up the priority check in lane in full view of at least fifty passengers queuing in the economy lane.

As I left security I was faced with a view the like I had not, seen since I was a small child on market day. It was as if I had been transported to a livestock market…..but worse. Surely there should have been pens installed to stop passenger wandering about? It was quite simply dreadful.

I eyed up what was a comparatively quiet corner near to gate 4, sat down and waited for someone to come and take order for a Dry Martini.

“I have to go to the bar to order?”

“Yes” Griselda sighed

“What sort of purgatory is this?”

Griselda sighed again but didn’t answer.

The arrival of the Virgin aeroplane to take me away from this living hell cheered me up immensely. I suspect my feelings, upon seeing the aeroplane, would have been similar to the feelings of the residents of Mafeking when the relief convoy arrived.

I watched the baggage loaded onto the plane and the captain Chappy wander around looking at the wheels and engines. Then I watched the baggage unloaded. I reached for my phone.

“Griselda, why are they unloading baggage from the aeroplane”

Silence.

“Griselda?”

“Are you sitting down Mr Hancock?”

“Yes……why?”

“Well….it appears that there is an engineering problem and Virgin has to fly an engineer down from Brisbane to fix it.”

I think that was the point I blacked out. It must have been two or three minutes before I came to. Any attempt to process the information available and calculate an outcome ended with the same result. I would be stuck in my current situation for a minimum of two and a half hours. I tried to think about what my great heroes would have done in my situation, but sadly in the modern world, slaughtering the general public wholesale is frowned upon so I opted to amuse myself by watching the small television without a typewriter.


It has come to this.

I would like to say that the time flew by, but it didn’t. Eventually another aeroplane arrived from Sydney and we departed almost three hours late. To make matters worse the catering was nothing short of appalling. An egg salad wrap and a bowl of chocolate popcorn does not meet the Hancock standard for business class food offerings. This was not something I wished to experience again. There would be a very stern letter directed to Sir Beardy Man in Blighty.

According to Griselda it would “only” take one more Singapore Airlines economy flight to Shanghai and a “handful” of domestic Virgin flights to lock in Platinum, whatever that was, with Virgin for another year.

As I contemplated another journey to Oslo, for no apparent reason, I wondered how easy it was to be an MP.

TTFN

 

[Bindibuys]

Ah Tony my dear, if only you had pre-warned us of your time in Newcastle, we would have wined & dined you, and then prepared you for the pleasures to be found (NOT) at NTL.
(but it is HEAPS better than what is was)

 

[alieninperth]

Who is Miss Pugh? Are we addressing Griselda formally now? Does Griselda have an assistant? And by God does she deserve one! Surely you are not going behind Griselda's back by using other administrators? These are the questions that we really need the answers to.

 

[andye]

Did her sister work at Maplin's?

 

[JessicaTam]

Who is Miss Pugh? Are we addressing Griselda formally now? Does Griselda have an assistant? And by God does she deserve one! Surely you are not going behind Griselda's back by using other administrators? These are the questions that we really need the answers to.

TonyHancock's "assistant" (for want of a better word) is Griselda Pugh.

 

[TonyHancock]

TonyHancock's "assistant" (for want of a better word) is Griselda Pugh.

Secretary please...none of these new fangled titles please.

 

[TheRealTMA]

Secretary please...none of these new fangled titles please.

"Producer" maybe?

 

[TheRealTMA]

TonyHancock's "assistant" (for want of a better word) is Griselda Pugh.

"Stone me, what a life!" Not Hatt​ie Jacques?

Maybe this is a young Hancock? https://www.flickr.com/photos/gpugh/7263833390/in/album-72157629881991238/