Part 1 of 11.

1/2: Introduction

1. Singapore Airlines (SQ) First Class from JFK to Frankfurt (FRA), plus the Virgin Atlantic Clubhouse at JFK;

2. Arrival at FRA, Lufthansa Euro Business class FRA – Istanbul (IST);

3. Arrival in Istanbul, Turkish Airlines (TK) business class IST – Tashkent (TAS), plus, early morning arrival in Tashkent;

4. Day 1 in Tashkent;

5. Day 2 in Tashkent;

6. Day 3 in Tashkent, plus the lowdown on Tashkent’s metro system;

7. Turkish Airlines Business Class TAS – IST, IST – Berlin (TXL), plus TK lounge in IST;

8. Berlin, Day 1;

9. Berlin, Day 2;

10. TXL – Zurich (ZRH) – FRA in Swiss Air Euro Business class, plus arrival in FRA; and

11. Lufthansa First Class Terminal and Lufthansa First Class, FRA – JFK.

*  *  *  *  *

I arrived at JFK after a day of finishing packing and working on physics problems with my friend Gabe at his house in Astoria. I entered Terminal Four at about 7.15pm, somewhat in a fog, a bit stressed at the amount of work I needed to do, and realizing that Spring Break would be indeed less of a break, and more of a chance to catch up on homework and reading. I was, therefore, kind of only half tuned in to the experience and trek I was about to undertake, seemingly barely cognizant of the fact that I was about to complete one of my life’s aviation goals: to travel in Singapore Airlines (SQ) first class. As about which I wrote in a previous post, SQ arguably sets the standard for international first class travel, bestowing a disgusting amount of opulence and luxury on its passengers, from two-hundred-dollar-a-bottle champagne, to Givenchy china, to dining upon lobster thermidor while flight attendants dote on your every need and whim. Still, sadly, something inside me wasn’t releasing me to non-guiltily enjoy the experience, but, eventually, I forced myself to put aside the pain of schoolwork for a bit, and enjoy my first time on SQ.

Singapore Airlines 25, JFK – FRA
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Departure (Scheduled): 10.00pm, EDT
Departure (Actual): 10.15pm, EDT
Arrival: (Scheduled): 10.50am (+1), Frankfurt Time
Arrival: (Actual): 10:37am (+1) Frankfurt Time
Equipment: Boeing 747-400
Seat: 3A

I arrived to the frenzy of JFK’s Terminal 4 from the AirTrain, and in the fray, made my way to SQ’s check in area.

After eying me with suspicion that I would even attempt to use the first class lane, an agent began to check me in, and even managed to print my Lufthansa boarding pass for my flight from Frankfurt to Istanbul. Then, she asked me to fill out a comment card about the caliber of her check-in service. While I was happy to scrawl a sentence of commendation, I thought that was a bit tacky, especially coming from an airline like SQ, which smacks of class and panache. Note on the picture of the boarding pass, below, the airline printed my name, along with the joke title I selected for United Mileage Plus, of “president.” I have since had that title changed, because it has only caused confusion on the part of the agents, and no one really laughed anyway.

SQ uses the Virgin Atlantic Clubhouse for their First Class Lounge at JFK. The problem, though, I didn’t know where to find it. The check in agent, whom I had commended, had only made a vague gesture with her arm as to its whereabouts. Eventually, after a few wrong turns, and navigating the maze-like layout of the back end of Terminal 4, I crossed a “bridge” over the food court area, and found the lounge.

The Clubhouse has a list of SQ F passengers, so, entry is quick and efficient, very unlike United’s scan of your boarding pass, plus 75 other documents to confirm that the boarding pass, with your name on it, is indeed you. Immediately, upon first inspection, the Clubhouse fits in well with Virgin Atlantic’s ultra-hip and ultra-cool British model. The entry is bedecked with a type of waterfall and lengths of rock-pond, complete with color changing lights that refract through the water. Virgin has set up the clubhouse with a row of dining tables on the left side, relaxing-type chairs and tables on the right side, that overlook the apron, and a more secluded area in the middle of the space, with a bar, and couches and armchairs fenced in with a chic lattice type partition. At the far end of the lounge is an area to watch TV, with a shower/bathroom area, and a computer area near the entrance (I made sure to steal as much Virgin Clubhouse branded stationary and Post-It notes as I could). Even the flight announcements are classy: instead of the usual incomprehensible mumbles over a loudspeaker, Virgin employs a proper Brit woman, and a suave sounding guy to handle the announcements.

Some initial lounge layout photos:

Not really knowing how to “use” the lounge, I asked one of the front desk attendants if I could use wireless internet, and if I wanted something to look at a menu, did I simply sit down at a table? You see, I meant to inquire if there existed some sort of “sign-up list” to sit at a table, or if I had to make myself known a maitre’d and request a table for one. I think the attendant thought that I was some sort of entitled asshole, and he responded with, “Well, someone can hand you a menu for you to read, I guess.” Taken aback, I tried to explain myself, and he basically told me to shut up, and go sit down.

I took a seat, and soon a server appeared, and asked if I was going to be staying awhile. Not quite sure what she meant (there seemed to be fundamental communication issues between me and Clubhouse personnel), I replied with, “Well, I hope so, unless they kick me out,” which sparked a laugh. She was simply a wonderful woman – cracking jokes, calling me “my dear,” and even talking me in to ordering more food (always good!) I had planned to eat tentatively at the Clubhouse, knowing that I would ingest six time the recommended calories aboard SQ, but, she would have none of it. With an exasperated wave of her hand, she said, “Well, you can eat here, and on the plane. We don’t mind!” and suggested I try the steak. Slowly letting hedonism overcome sensibility, I ordered the steak, plus a beer. I reminded myself I was on Spring Break, after all.

Though a bit salty, and a bit more well-done than I usually like, the steak was tasty. The potatoes were a bit mushy, but satisfying nonetheless. I ate the asparagus slowly, realizing how hard it was to eat asparagus properly (how did I not know that after all these years). Sensing I was eating slowly, my server returned to the table and chided me to eat all the asparagus. I certainly did, enjoying it, taking a moment to smirk a bit, knowing the raging airline nerd debate about whether airlines should serve asparagus on board, or people should consume asparagus pre-flight. For more information, check out this Wikipedia entry, and, yes, I am one of the people who have that oh-so-special gene.

I ate slowly, reading the paper, and wiling away the time until the flight. Next to me, a group of kids, perhaps about six eight or nine year olds, sat at the table, laughing crassly and  loudly, making messes of their meals, and generally carrying on in a way that seems  inappropriate for a first class lounge. Where the hell was any sort of authority figure? I sighed to myself, sensing I am getting older, even at age 23, knowing I wanted to go up to the table of these kids, shake my fist, and call them names that people haven’t used since the 1930s, such as “rapscallion” and “whipper-snapper.” Their conversation topics included flatulence, considering dropping a rock from the rock pond onto the food court below, and the kids matter-of-factly discussing the fact that their flights had beds, as if it was an everyday occurrence, and would respond to someone with an incredulous, “What? You’re on a flight that doesn’t have beds?” Ah, too be young and wealthy, and to spend my childhood flying to London Heathrow in First Class. As they (finally) left the lounge, their mothers appeared, stereotypically aloof, disconnected, with Botoxed faces, and toting Louis Vitton luggage, I’m guessing, tanking up on martinis at the bar, while their progeny made merry and bothered everyone in the Clubhouse. I almost hurled a potato at the back of one of the little shits’ heads, the young boy in a Lacoste shirt, talking about his flight’s beds, as he left.

Later, at about 9.00pm, after refusing another meal, and another drink, I made my way through a crowded security line. At one point, the good ol’ TSA even opened another security line for the Emirates A380 cabin crew, which, consisted of about 200 smartly dressed flight attendants. I love the diversity of Terminal 4, just a veritable plethora of airlines, about to make their ways to a cornucopia of destinations.

Boarding was well underway for SQ 25, and, feeling, now, wonderfully entitled, I made my way through the first class lane, down the miles of jetway, and paused for a moment, considering that I was about to enter the benchmark of international first class, for the first time.

I had read many other trip reports on SQ F, but, seeing it in person, was simply startling. After flying so much on United, I have never seen a cabin so pristine, so shiny, and so well maintained. As part of the SQ experience, a flight attendant (FA) led me to my seat.

Soon after I sat down, an FA asked me if I would like some pre-departure Dom Perignon. As a former college student whose champagne experience consisted of the type purchased and guzzled before a party, with fancy names such as Andre and Korbel, why the hell not?

Just from 15 minutes aboard, SQ presented an unparalleled level of service and attention to detail. I noticed that the FAs angled the labels of the champagne bottles toward passengers before pouring, and even made sure, if an overhead bin was open, to lift it for a passenger wishing to exit his seat. And, as the greatest contrast to United, I was taking a whiz when pushback began, and returned to me seat while the airplane was in motion. The best part, no one gave a damn. At United, I would’ve been subjected to humiliating announcements over the PA, and law enforcement probabaly would have been alerted.

The Australian captain informed us that because of favorable winds, flight time would be much shorter than normal. I liked him immediately. He even referred to the flight time, as “the magic figure.”

After takeoff, with the fasten seatbelt sign extinguished after only a few minutes, (please take note, United), I began the flight with a glass of Krug, and by watching Slumdog Millionaire. FAs passed out menus, amenity kits, headphones, pajamas, and some ridiculous slipper type things. Everyone in the cabin about eight other people, except me, changed into pajamas.

Like any good aviation nerd, while waiting for dinner to begin, I took excessive, unnecessary, and overly-detailed pictures of the seat.

The menu for that evening. * = what I had. I had pre-ordered the lobster thermidor main course:

Appetisers:

Chilled malossol caviar*
With melba toast and condiments

Marinated lobster and celeriac apple remoulade garnished with assorted tomatoes and mesclun

Soups:

Chinese clear broth with pork dumplings

Creamy green pea soup with creme fraiche and brown butter sage croutons

Salad:

Honey roasted assorted beets with frisee, spinach, wild rucola, and walnut
Balsamic and virgin oil dressing*
Ranch [In international first class? What the hell is this?]

Main Courses:

Grilled sirloin in red wine sauce, braised red cabbage, baby carrot, kenyan bean and yukon gold-blue cheese potatoes

Gaeng Khew Wan Kai
Thai style green curry of chicken with seasonal vegetables and steamed rice

Pan roasted air dried ham wrapped halibut served with leek and onion ragout, ratatouille, steamed potato

Jing Du style pork served with seasonal vegtables and fried rice

Potato gnocchi [is there any other kind?] served with roquefort cheese sauce, sauteed ceps, and arugula lettuce

Desserts:

Chocolate manjari cake with passionfruit sorbet, vanilla essence

Cheeses:

Old chatham hudson valley camembert, tomme idyllic putney vermont, danish blue and croutin du cavignol [did you forget to capitalize your letters, SQ?]
Served with dried apricot, grapes, walnut and biscuit

Fruits:

Fresh fruits in season

Finale:

A election of gourmet coffees & fine teas served with pralines

(I’ll post the booze and drink menu at the end of the report).

The attention to detail and attentive service in every aspect continued with setting the table, with Givenchy china (incredible, for someone who spent his college years eating off Ikea plates).

The caviar was absolutely fantastic: fresh, cold, and wonderfully sea-flavored, with a generous heap (Lufthansa: take note).

Next, the pea soup, was delicious, bursting with pea flavor, and complimented well by the creme fraiche and croutons. I decided to continue with the Krug throughout the meal.

With the salad, the honey roasted beets added a fantastic texture and contrast to the greens. The walnuts were a nice touch and contrast, as well. I don’t think there exists a better salad dressing than good ol’ olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Simplicity works well. Overall, very well done.

Finally, the lobster thermidor. Absolutely delicious. Please note the additional asparagus.

And, finally, I had to try Singapore’s signature cocktail, the Singapore Sling. My college roommates and I once tried to make these, and, try as we did, each batch tasted like uranium. Of course, this one was much better.

(I’m not a big chocolate fan, so I skipped dessert, but, did have the cheese. I’m not posting a picture of it here, because at that point in the meal, my tray is overly covered with crumbs, it looks like I tossed a hand grenade into a breadbasket).

The SQ service from the flight attendants was exactly as I had heard from others, and as I had read. Impressive attention to the minutia, constant refills of water and champagne, and various checks on each course, throughout the meal, each time, addressing me by name, something only three employees at United are able to do consistently. Some complain that SQ service is robotic, and yes, while some aspects are very rote and choreographed, I felt that many of the FAs were very personal, and kind, asking me if I liked certain items, playfully enjoying the mishap when one FA errantly brought me a cappuccino, and the service seemed very human, and very caring. More conclusions on the finality of the SQ report.

After seven or so glasses of champagne, a Singapore Sling, and some port, I was getting to the point where I needed to sleep off the effects of too much high class booze (which, funnily enough, feels the same as having to sleep off the effects of low-class booze). I changed into the Givenchy pajamas, one of the FAs bringing me a hanger for my clothes. Another FA made up the bed, and after popping in the earplugs, and putting on the requisite eyeshade, and settling down to sleep, I even felt one flight attendant pass, and adjust the blanket over my shoulders. An airline that tucks you in – can you ever imagine that on United?

(The conclusion of SQ25, and the arrival in Frankfurt, is covered in the next part of the report).