2016 The Hancock Year of Hell

[TonyHancock]

[FONT=&amp]Well this was interesting, actually interesting isn't the correct word, annoying is better, I thought to myself. There appeared to be automated gates of some sort for boarding. I opted to avoid them, I’m never keen on new fangled technology attacking me.
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[FONT=&amp]“Beep” came the noise from the machine as the lady at the gate waved my boarding pass in its general direction.
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[FONT=&amp]“It looks like you have a seat reassignment Mr Hancock” the lady said, but showed no facial expression. :shock:
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[FONT=&amp]If this was British Airways or Qantas I would be fully expecting a seat in First Class but I had no idea what to expect with Etihad, could it be that they knew who I was, or was I about to lose the seat, Griselda had probably not selected carefully, so that a Falcon could take it?
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[FONT=&amp]The lady handed me a new boarding pass, smiled, and said “You have a seat in First Class.”
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[FONT=&amp]Now this was more like it, although clearly “The Residence” to myself would have been more acceptable.
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[FONT=&amp]The stewardess escorting me to my “First Class Suite” had obviously been to a different training school to the one British Airways use because she was able to take me directly to the correct place without taking me on a tour of the entire aeroplane.
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[FONT=&amp]My first thought, upon entering my suite, was just how small it was. Well, small when compared to, for example, a standard room at The Hilton South Wharf.
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[FONT=&amp]As I settled in I placed my luggage under the bench in front of my seat which, in comparison to my sofa at home, was quite small. The 24” TV was also quite small when compared to the 58” TV Griselda had installed in my home office. The in suite fridge, or chiller as the stewardess referred to it as, was also much smaller than my kitchen fridge freezer.
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[FONT=&amp]Shortly before take-off the chef popped in to see me, fortunately he didn’t have a pony tail so it was a delight to go through my dietary requirements for the flight, and in particular a dry martini shortly after take-off. I opted for the fillet steak again, but this time it was to be cooked to my liking – rare to medium rare. (I daren't ask for blue) Now this was different, I’d never been asked how I like my steak cooked on my forty Qantas First Class flights. Actually for that matter I hadn’t met the chef on those flights either although I knew he was called Fred Perry and had a pony tail.
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[FONT=&amp]The Dry Martini was good, but not up to the standard set by Lucilla in the Concorde Room at Heathrow.



The steak, however, was outstanding and cooked as close to perfection as it could have been. I expected the traditional grey slab of meat, but this was actually red in places.


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[FONT=&amp]One thing Etihad does have to sort out is the wine service. The stewardess delivered an appropriately sized glass, significantly bigger than the ones in my home, but only poured a tiny drop into it after showing me the bottle for what seemed an eternity. Eventually we came to a compromise and she poured more in. My own preference is not to see the bottle at all but have a pint delivered just before the meal.


The glass is about the right size....it just needs filling to the brim.
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[FONT=&amp]After a bit of faffing I was able to call Griselda and ask her about being able to watch the TV shows she had recorded on my little television on the TV screen in my suite. Fortunately, Griselda redeemed herself by including something called a HDMI cable in my hand luggage and the stewardess was able to do the rest.
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[FONT=&amp]Having read an article in the The Daily Telegraph, not the dreadful New South Wales one, about Sir Kenneth Branagh’s latest role in The West End. I know he is a bit of a leftie luvvie but I have always approved of his Henry V, and am contemplating going to see his Archie Rice in The West End. (Assuming Griselda can snag The Royal Box for free at The Garrick.) I decided to rewatch Sir Larry’s Archie Rice in the 1960 film version of The Entertainer and Sir Ken will have his work cut out. I’m digressing again………….
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[FONT=&amp]“I think you are very attractive but we barely know each other” I found myself saying, in a rather gallant manner, to the charming stewardess. :shock:
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[FONT=&amp]She looked at me quizzically, lost for words, whilst pointing at the long bench opposite me.
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[FONT=&amp]“Oh I see, realising my faux pas, you just want to make the up the bed” I said, almost relieved and making a mental not for Griselda to book me in for a hearing test.
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[FONT=&amp]“Yes Mr Hancock” she replied with the sort of expression that suggested she thought I might be deranged.
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[FONT=&amp]I declined the offer, preferring to remain awake for the remainder of the flight. I had decided to try and get a full night’s sleep when I arrived, in the early evening, in London. I thought about taking a shower but quite frankly couldn’t be bothered.


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[FONT=&amp]I closed the door to my suite and settled back to The Entertainer.


Griselda had supplied me with a new fangled typewriter with a TV Screen...but I couldn't get the TV working at all.

Time flew by, sadly, and after a few episodes of Ripper Street, we were on our final descent into London Heathrow. All that remained was to bid the chef and delightful stewardess farewell.
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[FONT=&amp]So my first foray into Etihad First Class was over, and despite the suite being smaller than a hotel room, fitted with a TV and fridge, sorry, chiller smaller than the ones in my home, it was an acceptable way to fly.
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[FONT=&amp]Once I reached my hotel I organised a telegram to Griselda to advise her to organise a free upgrade to First Class on the way back. These peeps at Etihad seemed to at least know who I was.

TTFN
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[love_the_life]

Not a lot to complain about this trip TH. It all sounds very pleasant. Oh dear :shock:

 

[TonyHancock]

“Ms Pugh this really isn’t working for me.” I explained.

“Why?” Griselda responded, in a tone that suggested she didn’t really care.

“There was no beep at the gate and I am in Business Class instead of First” My tone was one of melancholy.

“I am sorry, but there is not much I can do” she said, clearly distracted.

My assumption was that she was arm wrestling Sid James again so I hung up and looked forlornly forward to the First Class cabin on the big plane I was traveling on. “Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear.” I thought to myself but then could only think what a load of tosh that was.

It had been a long two weeks of dull meetings, although Sir Ken Branagh rather cheered me up with a quite decent performance in The Entertainer at The Garrick. Fortunately Griselda had been able to procure a box in the Dress Circle, so at least I was away from the riff raff. What I did not appreciate was the subliminal messages encouraging me to consume gin at every available opportunity. Actually come to think of it I think I actually rather enjoyed that.



The Etihad lounge at Heathrow airport had been a zoo and my mood was not enhanced (proper non airline definition) by the announcement that we would be sitting on the ground for an hour and a half before we could get something called a “slot” for take off. Surely the people organising departures realised I was on board and would immediately give us a “slot”? Fortunately the crew recognised my distress and brought me a gin and tonic to provide relief.

“Well Hello” I addressed the rather attractive stewardess in my best Leslie Phillips voice.

“Err…Errr….hello” she responded somewhat quizzically.

“I wonder if you might send the chef down to see me” I was getting the hang of Etihad…..or so I thought.

“Err….Errr….I am sorry but the chef looks after First Class.”

“Perhaps he will make an exception for me?” I thought but did not ask as I thumbed through the Business Class menu.

I thought about asking to move to The Residence but have been put off by television advertisements suggesting that Ms Nicole Kidman may be in there already, and quite frankly her nose puts me off.

I tried to look on the bright side and to be honest Etihad Business class on the big aeroplane with two levels is not bad at all, certainly better that on the Qantas and British Airways equivalents. I could get out of my window seat without disturbing anyone from any window seat and the seat did not droop when it was in bed mode.



The beef was acceptable and a bottle of claret helped me sleep for a couple of hours, but neither prepared me for the rush through Abu Dhabi airport to reach my connecting flight to Bangkok. There was even a chap unhelpfully suggesting that anyone connecting to the Bangkok flight needed to clear security and get to the gate as soon as possible. :shock:

I finally made it to the gate as the boarding process was coming to an end and found my way to my window seat. It was an older aeroplane and the ambience was sadly lacking, but once again the doughty G&T saved the day and alongside another bottle of claret to wash down some sort of chicken meal I was able to get a further three hours sleep.


A spot of re-upholstering wouldn't go amiss.

Thanks to my two previous trips I was getting the hang of Bangkok Airport, and slipped through the priority immigration lane, through the baggage hall and out through customs in no time. Three escalators later, two down and one up, and a 10-minute walk I was checking into the Novotel again. This time it was just for a day. I have to say that Griselda had ben no help at all in providing details for my ground transfer. Pffft.

“Mr Hancock, Mr Hancock..” Griselda was quite breathless “Your upgrade to Business on the Qantas flight tonight has come through.”

“You mean there may have been a doubt that it wouldn’t?” I asked in surprise, I had just assumed I would be in business class.

“Well…….I just thought I would let you know.” Griselda sounded deflated.

I wondered whether Griselda would ever get any better at managing my travel.

The Emirates Lounge was not where I expected to find myself prior to the Qantas flight to Sydney. Griselda had been wrong yet again. She had suggested that I would be in something called the CIP Lounge or even the Cathay Lounge if the flight was to depart from the G, E or F gates. To be fair the Emirates lounge was not too bad at all.



1F would not have been my first choice of seat, but it was actually quite private and seemed to have a significantly bigger foot well than the seats behind. :shock:



Something else I did not expect was a half decent menu, I had been exposed far too many times to the dreaded Fred Perry Supper Menu on flights from Asia to Australia so it really was a pleasant surprise to a decent bit of pork with new potatoes.

A late departure, waiting for a “slot” again, meant a late arrival into Sydney and a missed connection. Fortunately Qantas organised a seat on the next available flight to Melbourne so it was not as bad as it could have been. Ordinarily I would have been disappointed, some may even say annoyed, but watching the boarding process for domestic flights gave me an idea that could help Qantas.

What if Qantas could come up with a way to offer its business class and regular frequent flyers the opportunity to board ahead of other passengers? It wouldn’t take much, Qantas staff could call priority passengers first and then police the queues to make sure everyone was in the right place. Then, and this is the clever bit, only process the priority passengers first. I wondered why nobody at Qantas thought of this as I lined up with all of the economy passengers with no status in the priority line.

So my ninth trip to Blighty this year is over, Griselda, and her spread sheet (whatever that is) tells me I have clocked up 261,548 miles in the air this year on 101 flights, which I believe equates to forty seven bottles of gin, although several of these have been consumed in The Concorde Room.

Next week it is back to China with a real risk of having to fly premium economy. :shock:

TTFN

 

[lakeman]

You forgot to mention the quality of the g and t on the last flight and what wine accompanied the pork.
I feel you must have had some form of sensory overload as you neglected also to mention the Sydney airport transfer

 

[TonyHancock]

The initial Premium Economy, whatever that is, crisis was averted in good time according to Griselda. Qantas had apparently upgraded me to business class earlier than expected, which I attributed to a realisation of my importance, although Griselda was under the illusion that it was because there weren’t many people in business class.

“I have managed to get a better rate at the Hong Kong Airport hotel and have gone ahead and booked an Executive Room.” Griselda pointed out at the last minute.

This pleased me, although I did not let on. I could step off the aeroplane at Hong Kong and walk to my hotel. I would be in the Executive Lounge for the odd G&T within minutes of landing. This is what travel was all about. Nothing beats leaving the free on-board bar of an aeroplane and heading straight to the free bar of an executive lounge. Northing short of gin heaven.

My trip was to be an arduous one, with six flights in seven days and visits to Xi’an, Shanghai, and Guangzhou, wherever they were. As usual Griselda had organised the travel with her usual levels of incompetence requiring me to get locals to reorganise flights as the week progressed.

As with most of my trips this one would originate from the Holiday Inn at Melbourne Airport. It is hardly The Reform Club, in fact it is only fractionally better than the Formule 1, now known as The “Ibis Budget” in Belo Horizonte, but Griselda assured me the park stay and go rate was good value and I needed the points to maintain something called Uninspire status.

The Qantas First Class Lounge was full of dreadful platinum types and whilst the dining area is not as bad as the cafeteria at Sydney it was still noisy and full of quite awful people in T shirts and jeans. Pleasingly a call was made for the Qantas flight to Los Angeles and all of the riff raff departed leaving a relatively empty and calm lounge. If only British Airways would open a bijou, yet exclusive, Concord Bar for me at Melbourne. #sigh#



Qantas adopted the domestic approach to priority boarding, so processed both queues at the same time rather than looking after me first. To be fair with Business Class, Premium Economy, Platinum, Gold, Emerald, and Sapphire passengers all eligible to use priority boarding it appeared that the non-priority queue was probably the place to be. I made a note for Griselda to write a letter to that Joyce fellow.

Griselda had done a decent job with seat selection. She had managed, to her own surprise, to secure me what she considered on of the best seats on the aeroplane – 5B. It was as seat on its own near to an emergency exit. I had last sat here when flying to Dallas a few years ago.

Given my recent status fall Griselda had also ordered my lunch before the flight. She suggested that now I was the same status as the majority of Qantas members I might not get my first choice of meal. In fairness the food was not as bad as the usual Fred Perry fayre.

Despite a short “gin crisis”, when the gin ran out for 5 minutes, in the Executive Lounge the Regal Airport Hotel at Hong Kong proved perfectly acceptable. If you arrive in the evening and leave in the morning it saves the journey into Hong Kong itself.

My time in the utterly marvellous Pier First Class lounge was cut short when the gate for my flight to Xi’an was changed to 501, and I had to suffer the indignity of a livestock truck journey to the satellite terminal. Griselda will be writing to Barnaby Swire about this. The only saving grace on this horrendous journey was the ability of Dragonairs gate staff to implement priority boarding correctly, allowing me to take most of the overhead locker space near my seat.

“What do you mean “sold out”” I challenged Griselda

“Exactly that Mr Hancock, no more rooms available.” came the terse response.

“..but….but…but don’t they know who I am?” I asked with a frustration perhaps last felt by Joseph and Mary in Bethlehem just over 2000 years ago. Although to be fair for them it was Christmas and peak season as opposed to mid September and well past the school holiday period. Why on earth had Griselda not booked earlier?

“I am sure the Hilton Garden Inn will be acceptable” Griselda responded coldly.

I sighed and resigned myself to a cooked breakfast as the only benefit I was about to get during a two-night stay. I really don’t understand the Garden Inn concept and can only wonder why there was not a Doubletree in Xi’an.

My colleagues took me to Huimin Street for dinner, and what a delight to sit in the street on a wooden stool, that appeared to have been removed from a kindergarten, whilst using chopsticks to eat noodles. The food was actually not unpleasant but worryingly there was no alcohol available, not even a teeny weeny double G&T.



Sunday involved a trip to see some large holes in the ground with pottery soldiers. I was prepared to be disappointed. Let’s face it every time we hear about a new discovery of cave paintings in France what we actually see is something that could be compared to a finger painting by a five year old. This was surprisingly different though and actually quite impressive. I sent a telegram to Griselda and asked her to send a well-done letter to Mao Zedong.



Following a rather sumptuous dinner, during which I think I impressed our hosts with my capacity to consume Chinese Whisky, it was time to reorganize my travel for the week. Fortunately economy class was sold out for the required flight to Shanghai and I was forced to fly in business class. I would deduct the increase in fare from Griselda’s stipend.



No such luck prevailed for the flight from Shanghai to Guangzhou and I found myself in seat 39C on a small Boeing aeroplane. It was simply awful, although to put things into context no more awful than a similar domestic flight with Virgin or Qantas. :shock:

The science park Crowne Plaza in Guangzhou certainly knew who I was and immediately upgraded me to a rather spacious suite with Club Room access. With Happy Hour beginning at 5:30 PM it was a rush to get back in time to [-]knock off a bottle of gin[/-] have the odd G&T before the free bar closed at 7:30 PM, I managed it though.

Quite why Griselda had booked a flight from Guangzhou to Hong Kong for me I did not know, she suggested that I need something called Tier Points but it was all beyond me. A luxury limousine service would have been quicker. Nevertheless that was the state of play and I found myself in a dreadful lounge run by China Southern Airlines. #shudder# I knew I just had to withstand this for a short while before once again I would reach the haven that is The Pier First Class lounge in Hong Kong.

Five hours in The Pier First Class Lounge was just what the doctor ordered, and was completed with a visit to the very pleasant restaurant. The Pier is everything a First Class lounge should be, it is quiet, beautifully furnished, and has a well stocked bar. The restaurant does not resemble a school cafeteria either so Qantas please note. (Griselda will add this to her letter to the Joyce chap.)



My QF30 business class experience would have been a significantly better experience for me had I not been seated next to a buffoon. It is not easy trying to relax when one’s seatmate is juggling coffee, opening the overhead locker, which was filled with only my luggage, and spending five minutes in astonishment that he can’t find his bag in it. Man alive Qantas should really restrict upgrades to Platinum One frequent flyers and me.

Despite having to declare my gift of, rather expensive, back tea I did manage to negotiate immigrations and customs in less than ten minutes and was soon on my way home.

Later this week it is off to Blighty again….for the tenth time this year.

TTFN

 

[love_the_life]

................
Despite a short “gin crisis”, when the gin ran out for 5 minutes, in the Executive Lounge the Regal Airport Hotel at Hong Kong proved perfectly acceptable. If you arrive in the evening and leave in the morning it saves the journey into Hong Kong itself........

At least yours was a short crisis. I arrived at Holiday Inn, Santiago Airport after a very (understatement there) unpleasant flight from Quito. Lots of bottles of Tanqueray behind the bar. Gin and tonic? No, they were all empty and only for show, no gin to be had Had to have vodka and tonic instead.

 

[TonyHancock]

At least yours was a short crisis. I arrived at Holiday Inn, Santiago Airport after a very (understatement there) unpleasant flight from Quito. Lots of bottles of Tanqueray behind the bar. Gin and tonic? No, they were all empty and only for show, no gin to be had Had to have vodka and tonic instead.

Ye Gods that is simply inhumane. :shock: Gin is a basic requirement to survive.

 

[drron]

Oh my dear.I hope you are not going to be using the Melbourne Qantas First Class lounge at the end of November.You will have to put up with a decidedly lower class of platinum scum.Namely American Airlines who have given me this title either for my or their lifetime.

 

[lakeman]

The relief at not catching the cattle truck at sydney airport must have disturbed your memory , but surely it was QF30 that bought you home ?

 

[Happy Trails]

Had to have vodka and tonic instead.

That was Arthur Daley's tipple of choice.

 

[TonyHancock]

Oh my dear.I hope you are not going to be using the Melbourne Qantas First Class lounge at the end of November.You will have to put up with a decidedly lower class of platinum scum.Namely American Airlines who have given me this title either for my or their lifetime.

:shock: I will be using the Qantas First Class Lounge at the very end of November, at the beginning of my 11th trip to Blighty for the year. I might get Griselda to push that back into December - Just in case.

 

[TonyHancock]

The Holiday Inn at Melbourne Airport advanced its war upon me by charging my credit card for stays made by my namesake. A bold move I thought…but one doomed to failure. Griselda was nothing if not indomitable when it came to my finances, which was the primary reason for retaining her services given her constant failures in the travel and secretarial departments.

“This is completely unacceptable” I heard her snarl at some poor unfortunate on the other end of the telephone.

I smiled to myself knowing that she had this, at least, under control.

So, Blighty again, on a nine day sojourn, and back to the norm after my dalliances with Malaysia Airlines and Etihad. The journey to Melbourne Airport was nothing short of horrific and I yearned for more enlightened times when town planners could be, either, burnt at the stake as witches, or simply hanged, drawn and quartered. The traffic ground to a halt with monotony. It was so bad I almost decided to write a letter to the President of Victoria, or whatever he is called, but thought again and passed the task to Griselda.

After a restless night, perhaps the second bottle of house red was a bottle too far; I awoke bright and early at 9:00 AM ready for a strenuous day of travel. I fear the peanuts I had eaten prior to dinner had given me a headache so made a mental note to steer clear of peanuts in the future.

“I thought I’d check in a little later than usual” I found myself advising the rather lovely check in agent in the Qantas First Class check in Suite.

“Why is that?” she responded inquisitively.

“Well, I hope to avoid the dreadful riff raff on the flight to Los Angeles in the lounge” I said in my best Leslie Phillips voice.

“Oh” she said.

“Oh?” I queried.

“Well, ummm, I am afraid that the flight to Los Angeles has been delayed. :shock:

My sigh was quite audible at the thought of those dreadful Qantas Platinum types occupying the First Class lounge and I trudged off to security and immigration.

I was at my most misanthropic now as I was forced to engage with the duty free staff whilst securing two bottle of Glenlivet something or other for collection upon my return.

Fortunately by the time I reached the Qantas First Class Lounge the majority of Qantas Platinum types had vacated the lounge and I settled down to eggs benedict with smoked salmon and two grilled tomatoes in relative peace and quiet.

I made a note for Griselda to contact Melbourne Airport to suggest that Jetstar Aeroplanes should not be given priority over proper airlines when it came to take off. It was nothing short of appalling to have to wait for those quite horrible silver aeroplanes to land before we could take off.


A dreadful silver aeroplane delayed our departure.

The flight to Singapore was uneventful, Qantas appears to have refurbished the Business Class cabin on its Airbus A330 Aeroplanes quite satisfactorily and after a bottle of claret I managed to sleep for an hour or two.

Griselda telephoned me to let me know that an upgrade to First Class was more than a distinct possibility on my flight to London so I ventured from the security of the Concorde Bar to the front desk on the pretext of getting a new boarding pass on British Airways paper. Pfffft it still said business class.

I quite like being able to land, disembark, and head straight for the Concorde Bar at Singapore Airport, but then find it rather irritating to clear security at the gate prior to boarding. There is always a complete buffoon in the queue who looks astonished that he has to remove his typewriter with a TV screen from his hand luggage.

Well this was new. A double beep and a seat reassignment. OK well the seat reassignment was expected, but what I did not expect was my original boarding pass handed back to me with seat 3E added in felt tipped pen. Mmmmmm so all I had to do in the future was strike a line through my original seat number and just write a First Class seat number in felt tipped pen.

British Airways First Class is not Etihad First Class, but it is superior to Qantas, Etihad, Cathay, Malaysian, Sri Lankan, American, Delta, LAN, and any other business class I have flown. I read with amazement the imbecilic comments that British Airways First is like other airlines Business Class. It simply is not. Whilst not the best First Class out there it is perfectly acceptable and streets ahead of other airlines business class, despite not serving a Dry Martini. :?:

Upon arrival I slipped into autopilot and soon found myself sitting with a “traditional” English Breakfast in front of me in the Concorde Room Restaurant. It was another trip to Norway and this time Bergen.


I do not pine for the fjords.

“Don’t leave without me” I trotted out my traditional goodbye to the customer service manager who just looked backed bemused. The look of incredulity continued as I re-boarded twenty minutes later. It took some time to explain, now what does Griselda call it………mmm………mmmm……….ah yes, a “back to back”.

The Hilton at Heathrow Terminal 4 is a mighty fine hotel, but it remains an annoyance when it comes to getting to Terminal 5, it is either a two stop London Underground journey, or a two stop Heathrow Connect journey, or #shudder# the dreadful “Hoppa” bus experience. That said the food and booze spread is perfectly acceptable in The Executive Lounge.

A week in the Holiday Inn at Walsall is enough to test even the stoutest of men, perhaps even Griselda, there is little to commend it. Room service was diabolical, the bar was quite dreadful, and the best thing said about the rooms is that there were no obvious signs of mice. Still, this second rate auberge was a step up from the even more dire Holiday Inn Express across the mighty M6 Motorway.

It was with relief I found myself heading for London Heathrow and my return flights to Melbourne. I still had to negotiate a night at the Hilton Garden Inn but after that there was the sanctuary of the Concorde Room.

With an hour to spare I opted for the Kippers for breakfast with a couple of poached eggs. Utterly marvelous.


BA cuts seem to have led to a man with a rope pulling the plane away from the terminal.

After another, what Griselda describes as a “back to back”, this time Stavanger I could relax for six hours in the Concorde Room. Food on demand, on the menu or otherwise, peace and quiet, attentive staff who knew me, and not least a decent dry Martini makes the Concorde Room my favorite lounge by a long way. Not a single Qantas Platinum to be seen. I assume they could be found drinking something called Bintang Lager in a lounge in another terminal.


Not sure about this Nouvelle Cuisine malarkey. :?:

Ashlea was heading up the bar team in the Concorde Room, Lucilla had been on the morning shift. It has normally been the other way around, but Ashlea stepped up and provided a perfectly acceptable dry martini or two. I have become rather fond of [-]my[/-] the staff in the Concorde Room. I wondered if I could replace Griselda with one of them.

Alas there was no double beep at the gate as I boarded my flight to Singapore, but fortunately, following the quite excellent Kind Hearts and Coronets, I managed to sleep for more than eight hours. I declined breakfast before landing, it has always seemed a little odd to be offered breakfast at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, although I probably would have taken it in First if only for the fried bread.

I had assumed Griselda had changed my flights to Australia to avoid Singapore and the dreaded Fred Perry supper menu on the Qantas flights to Melbourne…but no, even in this simple task Griselda had failed miserably. I thought for a moment that I might have to slip out of the haven that is the Concorde Bar to venture into the singlet and flip-flop hell that is the Qantas lounge for a feed, but British Airways had saved the day by introducing a proper menu in the Concorde Bar.


The antidote to the Fred Perry supper menu.

It was quite satisfying to be able to select the cheese as my “supper” option on the Qantas flight to Melbourne, at least I had had a decent feed in the lounge. Not even a bottle of claret could send me off to sleep though.

I raced off the aircraft as soon as I could and headed to the duty free collection point. The process proved more efficient than I expected, but not something I would like to do regularly, and I was soon out of the airport and heading home.

Only two more scheduled trips this year - China in early November and The UK/Germany for most of December.

TTFN

 

[andye]

No other airline in the world will give you an Ealing comedy masterpiece on the IFE

 

[drron]

Now,now Mr.Hancock an English gentleman surely must know that scoundrels should be hung,drawn and quartered.Hanged!

 

[TonyHancock]

Now,now Mr.Hancock an English gentleman surely must know that scoundrels should be hung,drawn and quartered.Hanged!

:shock:

Hanged vs. hung - Grammarist

You'll have to go to the grammar naz_ thread.

No other airline in the world will give you an Ealing comedy masterpiece on the IFE

Sadly I don't think (I haven't watched IFE for a long long time) BA does either. I took it on my iPad. It is without doubt one of the blackest comedies out there. Dennis Price's performance is often overlooked because of Alec Guinness' seven roles, but he is brilliant. #sigh# Sadly there seems no desire, or perhaps skill, to produce clever comedies like this any more.

 

[andye]

Passport to Pimlico, I'm All Right Jack*, The Ladykillers, sigh

*see that this is Boulting not Ealing but same genre

 

[love_the_life]

Now,now Mr.Hancock an English gentleman surely must know that scoundrels should be hung,drawn and quartered.Hanged!

Hanged is the correct past tense for the execution of a person, however I see both it and hung are used in relation to the hanging, drawing and quartering of those unfortunates who suffered this fate. I suspect that hanged is the more archaic version.

 

[esseeeayeenn]

Hanged is the correct past tense for the execution of a person, however I see both it and hung are used in relation to the hanging, drawing and quartering of those unfortunates who suffered this fate. I suspect that hanged is the more archaic version.

While it is true that "hanged" is the correct past tense of "hang" for the purpose of execution HOWEVER when someone is hung, drawn and quartered the hanging is not intended to kill them.
What point would there be in the drawing and quartering if the fiend was already dead?
I think that is why "hung" is used, the same as in "he was hung from chains on the dungeon wall then taken to the block to meet his fate".

 

[love_the_life]

While it is true that "hanged" is the correct past tense of "hang" for the purpose of execution HOWEVER when someone is hung, drawn and quartered the hanging is not intended to kill them.
What point would there be in the drawing and quartering if the fiend was already dead?
I think that is why "hung" is used, the same as in "he was hung from chains on the dungeon wall then taken to the block to meet his fate".

I agree, however, in this instance both terms are shown as acceptable when used for this punishment. For execution hanged of course is correct and your point about the aim of the hanging as not to lead to immediate death is more logical. I think hung sounds better than hanged but others may disagree.

 

[TonyHancock]

Ye gods this is turning into the Grammar thread. :shock:

For purposes of clarification the full sentence was:

That you be drawn on a hurdle to the place of execution where you shall be hanged by the neck and being alive cut down, your privy members shall be cut off and your bowels taken out and burned before you, your head severed from your body and your body divided into four quarters to be disposed of at the King’s pleasure.

This sentence was finally abolished in 1870. There are numerous debates about whether drawing should come before hanging but when you see "hung" used it is merely a corruption.

Being hung from chains, and meat being hung in an abattoir, are quite correct. Being "hung" by the neck is not.

To get back on topic I see this as the perfect sentence for those responsible for the current state of Melbourne's road system.