In Search of A "MARGINAL" Qantas Any Seat Award

So June is here already and my oh my it is a month of austerity. I have a completely unscheduled trip to the UK brought about by an incredibly sad story. A cricketing colleague of mine passed away last year, he was the sort of chap that there is simply nothing bad that could ever be said about him. A wonderfully talented cricketer, fiercely competitive, yet the sort of bloke you’d really want to have a pint with after the game. I played against him for many years at club level and with him at representative and then club level. He will be sadly missed by many. I am heading back to Blighty to attend a memorial match in his honour.

Thanks to munitalP I took my first ever TT flight, survived, and reviewed it here. It was followed up by an all VA return to SYD on Queen’s Birthday Monday to show the delights of Sydney to a UK colleague over for the week. A cheapo Y fare up and a points + pay J return. One of the problems with being an expat pom in Australia is the constant requirement to show visitors kangaroos, koalas, opera houses and bridges!  The trip did afford the opportunity to make a visit to the QF MCA Lounge and it is covered in my lounge review here.

The trip to Blighty had the feeling of unreality about it. I was flying midweek, a couple of days after a public holiday. Parking had been prebooked, and seat 80A selected. (I really did not expect to be sitting here for both legs of my journey based upon past experience.)

I was still unsure about 80A, I would have preferred 35 J or K or 66A or K, I probably would have taken 32A, B, J, or K for the privacy of the compact upper deck Y cabin. As the day of my flight approached I checked expertflyer constantly to see if any upgrades had been processed that might free up my preferred seating. It was all to no avail and I feared I might actually have to fly the furthest back on the lower deck of a QF A388 in 43 sectors!

The day of travel arrived and unusually I was not prepared, my packing hadn’t been completed and I had odds and ends to tidy up at home. Usually I arrive at the airport three hours prior to departure, today it was only two. Constant rain forced me to take the long term parking bus, a rare occurrence, but surprisingly successful.

“There is a upgrade request to business in the system, but it hasn’t cleared yet, check with the service desk in the F lounge” were words that struck fear into my heart. Firstly my track record in upgrades at the F check in suite was 100% successful, and secondly those dreaded words had only one meaning for a WP1 - “You ain’t going anywhere!”.  

There could not have been less purpose in my stride as I headed over to international departures, and my mood was not enhanced when a couple with a small child barged in front of the chap and family ahead of me in the security lane and then proceeded to take what seemed a Galapagos tortoise’s lifetime to unload all of their crap into the X-ray machine.

The F Lounge reception was chaotic with an older gentlemen attempting to organize his chauffeur service, and another gentleman checking the status of his upgrade. The system was apparently “not responding” and if my upgrade came through I would be called. 

“Is priority boarding not available today” I asked as Y pax were processed ahead of F and FF’s. A red light and a beep at the gate was a welcome event...or was it......... 

“You’ve been regraded”.  

After some fiddling with the computer and a phone call it appears I had not been regraded. Pffft!  

I can see why 80A gets such good reviews. A Y window seat with aisle access. The whole row was blocked too so plenty of room to spread out. As I got myself comfortable the screaming started. Zachary, bless his little heart, would have been about two, his parents had clearly got on the wrong flight with him. Bali or The Gold Coast would seem to have been more suitable destinations given their demeanour and manners. The parents were unable to learn from their mistakes as first orange juice flew across the cabin and then tea. The screaming went on for about two hours whenever he did not get what he wanted and pretty much all of the time he got what he wanted. He did sleep for a while only to wake and spill his mothers tea all over his seat necessitating a change of seat cover.  

The CSS did know where 80A was and made frequent, although perhaps not quite frequent enough, deliveries of shiraz from F, followed up by a couple of Jamiesons.  I fell into a stupor for a good 5 hours, opting not to dine at all.

The only downside of 80A is disembarkation. It does take a long time and leaves one at the end of a line for the security re-check, although the latter is very efficient. Little Zachary, bless him, decided to push and pull my carry on. His mother played hardball with him, “Zachary, that is not your bag” she said, as he just carried on, she lost interest at that point. 

There is little more to say about the DXB F lounge than has already been reported. It is as good a lounge as I have ever visited, huge enough to be able to find plenty of quiet nooks and crannies and possessing an excellent restaurant. If I have a criticism I’d have to say boarding from the lounge starts too late. If one is in Y you miss the initial queues but are left at the end of a long queue on the aerobridge. My lounge review can be found here

More Here

My mood was one of reflection, tinged with irritation as I battled to remove the battery cover from my electric toothbrush. I was beginning to wonder what life was all about. Time seemed to be speeding by at an ever increasing rate, and that despite my attempts to prevent it doing so with my Junior Chemistry Set, purchased for a surprisingly inexpensive $199.95 on ebay. Time travel was proving very difficult even after disseminating the Ladybird* book of Time & Relativity.^  Perhaps I was losing sight of what is important in the world, getting caught up in an endless cycle of travel and meetings. 

It was at this point that it all became clear to me, I looked into the mirror and realised the most important thing in the world was staring straight back at me. Yes Me! It was all about me, it wasn’t about anyone else, it was everyone else that was struggling to see that I was the most important thing, well...person, in the world. Phew I was OK it was just a case of making sure everyone else was on board with me being centre of the known universe....and beyond.  

April, you won’t be surprised to hear, would involve a reasonable, or unreasonable depending which way you looked at it, amount of travel. I had been press ganged into extending, an already unwanted, one week trip to Orlando into an almost three week trip incorporating large parts of French speaking Canada. The only remotely positive thing I could glean from this was that the French didn’t actually like French speaking Canadians so I suppose they couldn’t be all that utterly, appallingly dreadful. 

I’m getting ahead of myself though, I needed to make a trip to Perth and one to Newcastle, and as time was continuing to wage war on me I was running out of opportunities to slot these jaunts into an already tight schedule.

I concluded that the easiest way would be to fly over to PER on an afternoon, stay overnight and return on the 5:00 PM flight the next day. Then I would stay at the HI at MEL and fly to NTL the next day, overnight at the CP in NTL and return the following day. I contemplated a QF/JQ double for about one thousandth of a milli second and then headed to the VA site.

I had been neglecting VA, predominantly because the majority of my travel had been overseas, but also partly because of the Sabre horror stories I had been reading about. I still had four comp upgrades to use and in truth QF is so absurdly all over the place on the MEL-PER route, it really would be insane to risk flying with them. I would be booking Y and with QF I would have to use points or rely on a P1 comp upgrade, with VA I needed to book a flexi fare and call up to secure my upgrades.

VA it was to be, and as with every other experience I have had booking and upgrading it was easy and painless. I also booked my MEL-NTL-MEL online and completed my seat selection during the process. It was only after going back into “My Bookings” that I realised I couldn’t change my seat. Not good!  

There was to be a certain novelty value with my NTL trip......It would be my first time in VA Y.  Up until now I had maximised the half price points upgrades and complimentary upgrades to the extent I had not had to fly Y. In reality I had more than enough points to upgrade but I had decided to save them.

This was my first VA trip since mid January and for the first time I didn't sense the usual upbeat, positive feeling that normally greets me in the lounge. I got an impression of jadedness. The smiling faces were.....well.....not quite so smiley. Nothing that impeded the normal excellent service but just a missing joie de vie.

The Lounge was probably about a quarter full and my normal table overlooking the apron awaited me. The wireless was quick enough for me to download a 700mb documentary on Margaret Thatcher. If ever there was a political figure who polarises British public opinion it is Margaret Thatcher...and that makes her a very interesting documentary subject!

I watched my chariot (A332) arrive and found the hustle and bustle associated with loading and unloading luggage/freight/meals mildly interesting. I’m really not into things aviation but do find process in any industry interesting.

Priority Boarding was of course successful, although I noticed one disgruntled staff member who queried the start of regular boarding whilst a wheelchair was still on board.

Regular readers of my sanctimonious drivel will know that flying really is not something I actually enjoy, but VA’s transcontinental effort is a close as it gets to enjoyment for me. I find the seats in J comfortable, with excellent close to hand storage for my iPad mini, headphones, iPod Classic, iPhone5 and Blackberry. 

The service, admittedly, can vary from enthusiastically amateurish to genuinely excellent, and this trip was at the upper end of the scale. 

Mmmmmmmm warm nuts! When did QF stop warming nuts. (and no it would be inappropriate to interpret this as a Frankie Howerd double entendre!  )

With two entree choices and three mains choices the food offering is as good as I have experienced in domestic J. Unfortunately I did not get to sample the wine choices, apart from the dessert wine, because I was picking a rental car up in PER. (Yes indeed! A badly planned trip!)

QF you could learn an awful lot from the VA cheese plate. It is not elaborate or particularly extensive...it is just head and shoulders above the effort QF serves in J on the A380. It’s not difficult.....a cheddar, brie/camembert and a blue cheese. Simple choices. I really don’t ever want to see the white tasteless goat’s cheese on QF ever again. (Actually I don’t know if it is goat’s cheese but it is white and tasteless.[Much like Russell Brand])



I know there are plenty of peeps who like the Parmelia Hilton, and having received an upgrade from a twin room to a King Suite I could hardly complain, but man alive it is dingy and old and desperately in need of demolishing and rebuilding. Bloody expensive too....but that is true of most Perth hotels.



The King Deluxe was absolutely huge, a massive “sitting room” with an ill positioned large TV and a huge bedroom, but the furniture was stained, marked and ugly, and the rooms incredibly dark because I was on a low floor. Nonetheless it was an upgrade and I was grateful for that.

The seat map on EF told the story straight up. The return journey was to be completed on one of the older 332’s with the 2-3-2 config. Disappointing but still better that Y+ on the new QF 332’s.  

I was in 2D and E and F were empty so spreading out was the order of the day.

Salmon and dill potatoes, followed by barramundi washed down with the perfectly acceptable Mojo Sauvignon Blanc made for a pleasing journey “home”. The crew fell into the enthusiastic amateur category and were so eager to please that I just wanted to gather them together and give them a team talk....you know the one....”everything is OK, keep calm slow down, remain focussed without whirling around, just be natural....etc etc.

My “home” for the night was the HI at MEL and it did not get off to a good start. I purposefully strode to the front desk, announced my presence with a hearty “hello, checking in please, last name Hancock.” The lady behind the desk looked up, said hello and then excused herself saying she would be back in a moment. Another staff member came out, looked at me, asked if the other lady was looking after me and then went to a computer terminal.

A minute or so later the original lady returned and asked for my name (I resisted the temptation to tell her it hadn’t changed since I told her just over a minute ago), looked me up, advised me I had been upgraded to a King from a Queen, and thanked me for my loyalty. 

“Have you stayed with is before?” she asked,

“Yes, about 20 times” I answered with what I hoped was that sort of vague disinterest that John Le Mesurier carried off to perfecion in his portrayal of Sergeant Wilson.

“Oh yes I can see you were here in January.

Seriously! Do it properly or don’t do it at all. Engage with me, but don’t do it half heartedly or as if it were a chore. (Although it usually is a chore with me!) There is nothing worse than asking a relatively regular guest if they have stayed before when the information is readily at hand.  

I woke in a cold sweat my dreams had been less than sweet...or even remotely pleasant. (Although not as bad as the one where I am being chased through Paris by Gerard Depardieu on a scooter.  ) I have a Hilton stay coming up that is part of a group booking and despite my HH number being in the system it was still not showing up in my profile online and even if I put the confirmation number into the hilton site it came up with a “Can’t be viewed/edited here” sort of message. Would I get and upgrade, exec lounge access or two bottle of water a night? It was weighing heavily on my mind. Thank god I have never had anything important to do in my life I’d probably just fall over if I did.

The prospect of Y to NTL wasn’t helping either so I called up VA and used points to upgrade. It made me feel a little brighter, whist removing the previously mentioned novelty value!. With VA Platinum re-qualification complete it was now a head down charge towards Platinum Partner for MrsH. I was still in quandary about my BA J to Blighty in July though. WP1, and then a bit, would be in the bag by 8th May, earlier if I credited AA flights to QF, so it seemed such a waste to credit the, now reduced, points to QF. Could I make a go of AA, and maintain my current travel requirements or would I still be better off popping the 20k or so points into my QF account.?

Every now and again I have one of those eureka moments where I see an opportunity to improve a process and offer one of my, mostly, less than useful tips to hotel, airline, and car rental managers, and I saw an improvement the HI at MEL could make. It struck me that in the hotel business customers were probably most likely to check out in the morning so Mr Manager at the HI MEL why the flipping heck would you have you front desk staff in a meeting when the vast majority of your customers want to check out? Why not have staff at the front desk in the morning?  

The angels of the MEL VA Lounge seemed a little more at ease today and the smiles at the front desk, coupled with sorting out seat selection for me, melted my troubles away. We chuckled about the implementation of Sabre, oh how they gafored about the extra stress it brought to their lives. I wanted to hug them and tell them it would all be alright in the end. It is quite amazing because my interactions with QF staff in the QP or J lounge usually leaves me wanting to go into a corner and scream. 

Two cappuccino's and a ham, chicken, tomato and cheese with proper egg mayonnaise sandwich later and the world did look a much better place. It was soon time to experience priority boarding again.

Failure.....yes you read right VA PB failed.   I walked down the PB lane and waited whilst the agent continued to process the regular lane. There were three pax in the regular lane and all were processed before me. 

This was my first flight in J on an E190 and as the only pax in J I chose 2A. The overhead space on the A side is poor, very poor, no way my rollaboard was going to fit in there. Fortunately the space above D/F was both suitable and empty....apart from crew baggage.



The legroom in row three though, wow, just wow, Jerry Hall would have no problem there. 

I’m not sure I like J in the E190 though. If the cabin is full I’d definitely go for the A side, I value the “privacy” of the single seat. If you are in 2D you pretty much have to lean right into 2F to get to the vent and light controls.

The CSM was almost disappointed I wouldn’t be sampling lunch and I settled for a cup of tea....my fallback when driving at the other end of a short flight.

The development of the harbour and the Crowne Plaza had turned Newcastle into one of my favourite destinations. The CP is just a lovely hotel, particularly if you can snare a harbour facing room on the top floor. Weather permitting breakfast outside is another very pleasant experience.

I had booked a Queen City Room......and received a Harbour View Room on the top floor with wonderful views over to the Coal Port. Yes...not everyone’s cup of tea but mining and coal handling fascinate me. It is done on a scale that is hard to explain to my colleagues in Blighty who still imagine mining is carried out by men with picks and shovels venturing underground.

The return to Melbourne is my least favourite regular journey. NTL is nothing more than a zoo. With no lounge and one big departures area populated by deathstar pax it is not an experience to wish upon your worst enemy. I did manage to snag a seat near a power outlet once I had cleared security. (Note to Apple’s marketing team: Security staff at NTL do not appear to be familiar with the iPad, I can only assume it has not made it to Newcastle yet....could be a sales opportunity!!)

I checked EF so that I knew whether I could spread out upon boarding. Mmmmmm five seats in J sold, I had 2C, I already knew 1A,1C, and 1D were taken...so why the flip would the remaining pax be in 2A? I’m beginning to wonder if the airlines are plotting against me. The CSM, at least, asked me if I’d like to move over to 2D or 2F which I did before the forward door was closed. 

Whilst NTL is not a port where VA offers PB....they still manage to do better with it than QF does at the ports it claims to offer it.....if that makes sense. Pax needing extra time and pax with children were boarded first, followed by J, Plat and Gold. Worked very nicely.  

My whistlestop tour was nearly complete....but not before I had an opportunity to sample the “afternoon snack” option. It was, as I feared, an unappetising affair - a choice between a salad or an egg, tomato and olive tart, I opted for the latter and it was, in all fairness, poor. 

Having departed half an hour late we arrived half an hour late and the battle to get through Melbourne at peak hour began and continued until I arrived home two hours later. Oh how wonderful that first whisky was!

*One for the British expat of a certain age!

^For the more literal this is not a real book the title has been used for attempted comic effect.

I have never been a huge fan of the USA, sure it is not up with there with France, but sustained exposure to all things American leaves me a little world weary. I know many people who would see a week long conference in Orlando as something to look forward to, but not this fellow.

The trip had been booked almost a year ago and then forcibly adjusted to take in a further week in Satan’s cesspit.  (Quebec for those that don’t know!)

My distaste for things French and American would now be matched with my distaste for air travel as I set off on a trip that would see me take 13 flights in 18 days. Oh the joy. (Readers meet sarcasm.....sarcasm meet the readers)

It all started at 05:00 when my iPhone blasted out Russ Conway’s Side Saddle, a tune so rancid and awful I had no choice but to crawl out of bed to turn it off. (I’m not a morning person....or for that matter a day or night person either!) I pride myself in my collection of some of the worst pieces of music ever recorded and will often inflict this upon unwelcome guests at my home.

With my taxi booked, the QF chauffeur service was not yet available for US flights, I showered, dressed, with the help of my valet.....obviously, and awaited my yellow chariot on the verandah of chaise Hancock.

LAX is an airport that I reserve special hatred for, admittedly it is now more than two years since I had the displeasure of flying through it, but the queues at immigration, the appalling OW departure lounge, and the sheer size and ugliness of the place had tainted my view forever. DFW on the other hand was a positive paradise in comparison.

With QF’s continued marginalisation of MEL, and no I won’t apologise to the residents of ADL and PER who have now been completely marginalised..but this is ALL ABOUT ME not you, I would have to fly to SYD to pick up QF7.....and that would mean, cue horror film music, QF domestic premium boarding.

Surprisingly the express security lane at MEL T1 was being policed so it was a matter of minutes before I was flashing my WP1 card at the QP and heading down to the J lounge to check in, a process completed with aplomb by the lovely lady at the service desk.

The lounge was surprisingly empty at 06:30 so procuring a cappuccino was not fraught with the difficulties the long queues normally present. I held back on the bacon and eggs in anticipation of a SYD F lounge affair.

QF416 was already boarding by the time I reached the gate. (Is it me or is QF beginning the process early.) I was able to stride to the front of the PB lane and had it not been for the non status pax draining their coffees, and a chap with hand luggage the size of a car, I would have been able to board immediately.

Having experienced successful priority boarding on QF I needed to sit down, it was, after all, rare experience for me.  I had checked Experflyer prior to boarding and all looked good, the seat next to me had an X and J was still showing 9 for availability. It was therefore somewhat of surprise when a largish fellow plonked himself down next to me just prior to the doors closing. In fact it was a surprise all round as all but one seat was occupied.....and worse the cabin was awash with CL tags. Was this a CL lounge run...do CL's have lounge runs I wondered...for all of a nano second.

For the second time in a couple of hours I turned down breakfast, partly because I was awaiting the delights of the F lounge and partly because I was in state of shock at the prospect of being out DYKWIA'd by the CL brigade.

SYD was relatively busy and there was a change to my normal routine.... the transfer bus to the international terminal was now leaving from gate 15. Unusually fortune was not playing the hussy with me and I found myself on a bus with four other people....and better than that I was through immigration and security within 10 minutes.

I was definitely in "nothing can go wrong now" territory as I was ushered to my favourite table, near the window, in the corner, of the F lounge restaurant. The only significant problem was that I simply could not get "Side Saddle" out of my head....and it was getting worse I found myself whistling "Fings ain't wot they used t'be". Was my mind being slowly taken over by 1950's British variety hall acts?

"Eggs Benedict with smoked salmon and two grilled tomatoes, with sparkling water and. Spot of English Breakfast Tea please."  I said before I sat down. Life was good apart from my mind progressing, if progressing was the right word, on to "Theme From a Summer Place." We'll at least I was not confined to British mind numbingly dull drivel.

My secretary, Griselda, bless her, had arranged, via FT for me to meet up with johnk, something I had been looking forward to. I settled in on a double seat sofa down near the Spa and enjoyed a cappuccino.

Time flew by as johnk and I chatted about life, the universe, and of course flying. John is one of the flyers I admire most, he is a genuine frequent flyer racking up the miles with the weekly commutes. I have no idea how people do this, I suspect I would last about three weeks at that game. The odd thing, for me, is that he enjoys it!!!!!!!  

QF7 was in the later stages of boarding as I sailed through the PB lane, and found my way to what is possibly the best J seat on QF. I was in 5B, equalled only by 5K in my less than humble opinion. What is not to like about a solo seat with additional side storage, and nobody in front? On top of that during take off I had the delightful Kellie, in the jump seat, all to myself, for a chat. 

The QF crew was fabulous, I was we'll looked after as I ploughed through a bottle and a half of red and quite possibly a bottle of dessert wine. It is a long flight to DFW...but we were nearly there when I awoke from my stupor. 

We touched down almost 40 minutes early, but immigration was almost ready and after a short wait it was off to customs so that I could be singled out for a secondary check. I have no idea what it was all bout because the customs office, thoroughly pleasant sort of chap, made no effort to inspect my bags, instead tapping keys on his computer.

The whole rental car experience was a shambles. I had picked Europcar on price....but of course they have a "partnership" with National. The fellow behind the counter dispatched me to the "Emerald" lane to select a car. No paperwork. It was all to easy and quickly fell apart when I tried to leave.....the chap at the boom gate had to sort it all out. It wasn't too dreadful but it took 20 minutes longer than it should have done. Europcar is crossed off the list for US travel now.  

The "25 minute" journey to The Hilton took almost an hour, in part due to my incompetence and in part due to the horrific roadworks on I635. Ye gods you really do need to know what roads to take to get to The Hilton at the moment. I circled it twice before finally picking up the correct diversion. I consider myself a seasoned traveller by air and car but I have never seen roadworks on the sort of scale that exist around The Hilton.

I washed my travel clothes and freshened up with a shower in my King Exec room before heading off on what was to become a quest, on a par with the one for The Holy Grail, for a prepaid nano sim for my iPhone or iPad Mini. My first stop AT&T proved fruitless but not without hope. The staff appeared to understand my requirements but assured me that they could not offer a prepaid/pay as you go service on either device. They pointed me to Verizon or T-Mobile

Verizon was a company I knew had some issues with Apple products so I was a little circumspect. The staff once again appeared knowledgeable and were fairly certain a Verizon sim would not work with my iPad mini. (Apparently they had nothing for my iPhone in the prepaid plan area.)

T-Mobile was just down the road and after half an hour standing in line whilst a chap who seemed to have the intellect of a fruit fly and absolutely no decision making capabilities occupied the time of the sales assistant. No plan for the iPad Mini but for $60 I could get unlimited calls and texts plus 2.5 GB of data.....and importantly use the iPhone as a wireless hotspot. (Not always possible on some prepaid plans I have experienced.)  

The Hilton, Lincoln Centre, was OK. The rooms had been refurbished relatively recently, the wifi was decent and restaurants OK. Nothing much in walking distance though, despite being "next door" to the up market Galleria Shopping Centre. There were no footpaths to the centre even though it would have been no more than a 10 minute leisurely stroll. (I had forgotten this aspect of US life.)

Since I had booked my DFW-ATL-YUL flights DL had seen fit to change them and leave me with a connection time at ATL of 39 minutes. Whilst not as svelte and athletic as I once was I consider myself relatively active and capable of moving between terminals at a decent pace, but this connection seemed a tad on the tight side.....and there weren’t many other DL options to YUL available, after my flight, that would really have suited. Fortunately the nice peeps at DL changed my flight to an earlier one leaving me a 1:56 connection.

Armed with an iPhone with a local sim and satellite navigation the journey back to DFW was as uneventful as could be hoped for. Even the return of the rental car passed without incident.

The security lane was mercifully empty and so was the Delta Sky Lounge. I was prepared to fight my case for entry but didn’t need to, I was welcomed without question and reasonably happy with the serenity. The lovers of flying and airports will be delighted with the views over the apron. Food is a little sparse with porridge and toasted bagels being the hot options. The coffee was, as it mostly is in the USA, simply awful.

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Priority boarding worked although, even arriving at the gate 35 minutes before scheduled departure, F was already pretty full. I was in 3C and my seat mate had already taken her seat and about two thirds of the available under seat storage. It was a touch difficult to complain give she was several months pregnant. A rare moment of compassion from yours truly.

ATL is big, it was easy to forget just how big it is. My flight was on time and we disembarked at gate B34 with the flight to YUL departing from gate E35. It took a full 20 minutes to get to the DL Sky Lounge on the E concourse and that with a favourable mono rail connection. 

The DL Sky Lounge was quite large and again quite empty...but it was a Sunday. I didn’t even show my Velocity plat card.. the rather lovely lady behind the counter was wonderfully chatty and keen to please. A quick check told me that DL had 9 lounges at ATL..a stark reminder of the size of the US aviation industry. In a former life I was based in CVG, a former DL hub, and that was not a small effort either.

A five minute meander took me to the gate where boarding was already delayed. In the end we were a full 20 minutes late leaving so my original connection would have been a walk in the park. If we had left on time it would have been a rush.

Anyone complaining about domestic J service with QF or VA really should try the US airlines. When the “meal” on a two and a half hour flight is a bag of chips and a fun sized snickers you have to wonder!  I can’t complain though this little sojourn netted me 100 SC’s with VA and gets me closer to partner plat. Anything to keep MrsH happy.

YUL was all I expected and less. The daily Scare France flight had arrived and as one would expect the whole immigration and customs process was shambolic and disorganised as only a gallic influenced process can be.

Unsurprisingly there was nowhere to purchase a sim card so I headed off to telephone the Hilton Garden Inn and arrange transport. This at least was painless and remarkably effective.....indeed the bus was ready and waiting.

This was my first stay at a Garden Inn and it was OK, obviously not as good as a “proper” Hilton but the breakfasts were pretty good and the bed very comfortable. 

Montreal, indeed Quebec, is difficult to comprehend. When General Wolfe was leading his men up a goat track to the Plains of Abraham he could not possible have imagined that English would become a “forbidden” language. The locals take great pride in their protection of the French language...as they drive along in their cars listening to...ummmm...errrrrr English/US popular music.  

Quebec would benefit hugely from the Canadian Government drop kicking all legislation about dual language into The St Lawrence and explaining to the garlic munching English hating peasantry that they were conquered over 250 years ago and English is the language of Canada. Failing that concreting over The Province of Quebec would produce, perhaps, better results.  

What trip wouldn’t be complete with a one and a half hour flight, in a Dash 8 100, to a mining community where nobody speaks English? Well apparently not this trip. How I enjoyed The Quality Inn/Suites........without a bar or restaurant, the joy was clearly evident on my face as six inches of snow fell and temperatures plummeted to sub zero - and all this in mid spring.

[attachment=1]QI-Val-D'Or-Snow.jpg[/attachment]

My escape from Satan’s Cesspit was delayed by the US Government’s reduced funding of Immigration Officers, apparently, as I queued for just over an hour. There were tears and tantrums and poor unfortunates destined to fly with Scare France. For once I was happy to be heading to the USA!

When I clicked the confirm or pay or whatever the button is to finalise a flight on the QF site I wasn’t really filled with dread. In my heart of hearts I knew QF would look after me on an all Y return trip to LHR. There was a little part of me that that thought QF won’t make me sit there, they are bound to squeeze me into Y+ or J. 

...but let’s take a step back. Why was I even contemplating a trip in Y to the UK? Well times were tough, business a little slower than I would have liked and I had two other staff members heading to the UK. I needed to keep my costs down and this was an unbudgeted and last minute trip...and yes it was a necessary trip.

My final destination was Berlin, but I also wanted to take the opportunity to see some customers in the south of Germany. To make the trip even less appetising I would need to fly BA’s EuroTraveller class. Mmmm nice! The European excursion would have me taking a LHR-MUC flight, a train...yes public transport..to Berlin, and finally a TXL-LHR flight...or so I thought. Six hours by train from Munich to Berlin was not something I had any intention of trying so it was time to have a stab at AB.

Expertflyer was almost permanently on my screen for the week before QF9/1 beckoned. (Why on earth had I thought the extra 20 SC’s I would earn by splitting my flights was necessary I have no idea.) My confirmed seats were 66A on QF9, 48C on QF1, and 35K on QF2/10 on the way back. It was clear that QF9 MEL-SIN was oversold in Y so it was not much of a surprise when EF showed 66A as empty on the day of travel. 

An upgrade to Y+ was confirmed at the ever wonderful F check in desk, and the next task was to eat and drink my way through the F lounge in order to avoid Y+ food....not that there is anything particularly wrong with Y+ food it’s just the F lounge dining is so much better.

In the lounge I had a wonderful catch up with chocsaway and dot. Like me dot had been upgraded to Y+, whist chocsaway was turning left into Emerald City.

It had been more than two years since I had travelled Y+ on a QF 380 and to be fair it is not a bad experience at all. The drinks flowed...hic...and time hurried by. The service was pretty good although the CSM didn’t pop by with a personal greeting.

SIN presented a new challenge...find the EK lounge. OK I understand that this should be relatively easy, but you have to remember I’m 9 hours, including lounge time, and two and a half bottles of red into my journey. My brain is normally on auto pilot. Straight down the concourse turn left at the end and then left again up the escalator. Now it was straight down the concourse, veer a little right and up the escalator.

Oh my! What a change! An uncrowded lounge, fillet steak, fast wifi. I like this change.

Expertflyer was showing one seat available in Y, otherwise a full plane. Oh how smug I felt to see an X on EF next to my seat. The smugness lasted for about 9 minutes and three screen refreshes. The plane was absolutely full. 

I was eager to board, even though I knew full well that the boarding process for those sitting in row 48 was no longer the one originally planned by QF I hoped against hope that the message had not filtered through to the CSM. With the Archbishop of sydney on board the prospect of seeking a blessing whilst quaffing champagne and wandering through F, (I assume he was in F) quite appealed to me.

Alas, and not unexpectedly it was not to be. The CSM had already spotted I was a P1 and once the vast majority of Y pax had tramped past me to their seats I was presented with a glass (yes glass not plastic cup) of champagne from F. Hic.

Once we were up in the air and the seatbelt sign was off the cabin supervisor popped over to see me with the offer of a red from F, a cheeky little Pinot Noir accompanied by a bowl of nuts. Very nice. No need for dinner for me!

Y travel meant a change in electrical devices. The little tray tables meant I needed an iPad mini rather than the full size effort, and I didn’t take my brand spanking new 13” MacBook Pro Retina either, it was the trusty 11” MacBook Air that came with me. The iPad Mini worked a treat and after a five hour, slightly unsettled, snooze it was time to watch some movies and TV.

For the majority of the flight my fellow Y pax stayed well away from the acres of space in front of me, and then as if everyone received an invitation hordes of pax decided to visit the galley and stand directly in front of me drinking hot chocolate. This lasted for about an hour and then peace and quiet resumed for the remainder of the flight.

I did take the breakfast, and to be fair the pale looking sausage tasted significantly better than it looked, although this could not be said of the somewhat stodgy looking scrambled eggs.

We arrived early and surprisingly LHR ground staff managed to cope with this. The F pax all prepared for their exit through the forward left hand door, which was a little bit of a shame for them because we actually disembarked through the second door and there was a touch of farce as Y pax were now blocking the way. Fittingly, in my mind anyway, I managed to disembark first.

Ordinarily I would race to the AA arrivals lounge for a shower and a decent feed, but on this occasion my P1 status counted for nought. My trusty Priority Pass card came out and it was off to the Air Canada arrivals lounge. It is not a bad arrivals lounge, the food is limited, but the showers are mighty fine, and it is not as crowded as the AA lounge.

Avis delivered a car in the booking class I had ordered. It was unfortunately French though. I shouted in English at it constantly and felt much better about it.

Eighty Seven quid bought me a room at the LHR T4 Hilton. I can’t say often enough how good the Hilton Diamond status match with VA was. A couple of whiskies in the Exec Lounge probably wasn’t what the doctor ordered but was certainly most welcome. Hic!  

So far so good, I had survived my flight to LHR, it was not as bad as it could have been. It was obviously awful, but it could have been much, much worse. Things started to go wrong shortly after joining the “express” (you have to love the British sense of humour) security lane.  There never seem to be enough staff at LHR and the ones that are there tend to be standing around doing nothing. [Sarcasm]Shock, horror[/Sarcasm] my backpack was selected for secondary screening. Yes I do carry a fair bit of electronic stuff and I do accept that this will happen relatively regularly but there must be a more efficient way of carrying this out. Each item was meticulously removed from my backpack, prodded with what I assume was a device for detecting explosives, and then placed in a tray.

The tray was taken away for a second x-ray.....and this is the bit that worries me a little. Should I insist on going back with all my bags so I don’t lose sight of my possessions? The tray came back and I emptied it into my backpack and scuttle away to concourse B and my, by now, imminent flight.

BA does PB well. (Are you reading RedRoo?  ) I didn’t get time to bask in the glory of effective PB because I was preparing for the flight, this involves switching off a Blackberry, iPhone4, iPhone5, and an iPad Mini.....or would have done if I could find my iPhone5.  

Munich was cold and there had been a heavy snowfall, so heavy that the chap meeting me was going to be one and a half hours late. Now patience is not something normally associated with me...but that one and a half hours was to prove very useful. It was an opportunity to ring lost property at LHR. “Sorry you’ll have to wait, we don’t log items that have been handed in for two days.” 

"Golly gosh", or something along those lines, I thought, as I paid 4.95 Euros for the t-mobile wifi and looked up Optus’ website.

I had turned the mobile data off on my iPhone5 because I had yet to buy a UK prepaid nano sim.. So no "find my iPhone"! One international call later and Optus had blocked/cancelled or whatever they do to stop the phone being used. “What larks” I would have thought to myself had I not been thinking a string of foul profanities.

Southern Germany in snowy winter is like a scene from a Christmas Card, what I don’t understand is why there is not complete and utter carnage on the roads. I think I came close to death twice on the 170 KM journey north from Munich. Icy and wet roads and 155KM/H left me with cramp in my right hand from gripping rather too tightly on the door. I would like to tell you about the beautiful scenery but my eyes were closed most of the time.

Some of you may remember that I am not overly keen of leaving hotel bookings in the hands of others. Mmmmm no carpet on the floor, a TV with a screen not much bigger than my iPad Mini, no wifi in the room, and a single bed. Not a good start......however there was a redeeming feature so great that I could happily live with these inconveniences. The hotel had it’s own brewery...yes it’s own brewery...hic....



After trout soup, that’s correct, trout soup, it was delicious by the way, I feasted on three beautifully cooked medallions of “Bambi”. Washed down with, yep you guessed it, beer brewed in the onsite brewery. Did I mention that this hotel had it’s own brewery?  

I was a little less grumpy by the time it came to fly to TXL. Two days had gone since my iPhone had gone missing. The lost property office at LHR had not had one handed in, but I was told it might take four days. I held off reporting my phone as stolen and decided to visit the lost property office upon my return to LHR.

AB was OK, I was on a 737 sitting in row 2 with a “shadow”. Nothing fancy but AB seemed keen to honour it’s OW requirements faithfully. I had been naive, having looked at the website I asked at the check in counter if I could take my rollaboard as carry on along with my backpack. “Nein” I was told. (Well actually I was told “no”, the rather attractive young lady behind the counter spoke excellent English, which was good because my limited German would have only raised concerns that there may be a British World War II fighter aircraft overhead.)

I had to check my rollaboard in!  When I boarded how I wish I had not asked at the counter, I swear that one chap was boarding with a trabant under his arm!! It was worse that the USA.  

Berlin is a place I had not been to before, and whilst it was dark when I arrived I was a little surprised at how run down parts of the city were. My assumption was that these parts had previously been in East Berlin. The Hilton was excellent. A King Exec was my upgraded room and the exec lounge was one of the best I have been in on my limited Hilton stays. The mini cheeseburgers and mini pizzas were quite "moreish".

Unusually for me I did take some time to site see and walked down to the Reichstag and The Brandenburg Gate. I do like the Germans and I pay them the ultimate compliment of being the antithesis of the French.