THE DAY BEFORE D DAY
[DEPARTURE DAY]
We received an email to
inform us that that internal return flight from Denver to Los Angeles had been
cancelled as the airline had merged with another and amended their flight
schedules. Diana spent an hour on a prime
time number attempting to get it sorted to our satisfaction; which wasn’t easy
but eventually managed and we think the ‘phone call potentially cost more than
the flight!
TWO VERY EXCITED RETIREES
ENJOYING OUR FIRST TASTE OF AN UPPER CLASS FLIGHT
This is what happened ………..
We received an email from
the Upper Class Wing of Virgin Atlantic in Terminal 3 at Heathrow inviting us
to join them for check in the next day which of course we accepted with great
excitement and alacrity.
On flight day our driver
swept us to a timed arrival up a private ramp to be met and greeted by an
extremely welcoming Virgin [Airlines!] representative. We were amazed that we didn’t have to touch
the luggage from leaving the hotel until we collected it when it arrived at LA
Airport.
We glided effortlessly
through a private channel, had our cabin luggage and selves checked, away from
the crowds, and were directed to the Virgin Upper Class Clubhouse which took
our breath away - a haven of relaxation and pampering appeared before us; Our greeter introduced us to the various
aspects, Spa, shoe shine, pool table, buffet, fully catered breakfast, hanging
chairs, observation gallery, outside garden with seating, F1 on 9 screen size
big screen with spooled pictured news on several separate side screens [everything complimentary],
hairdresser/barber, nail bar and much more.
We found immaculately attired and friendly waiting staff, all with red
lipstick [the girls that is] ready to attend to our every need. We sat amused
for a while thinking about ‘how the other half live’.
Priority boarding was
announced [when everyone else had boarded] and we made our unhurried way to the
plane and our individual private ‘pod’. Malcolm’s jacket was taken and hung in
a wardrobe to be brought back to him when we landed and Champagne in an old
fashioned Babycham type class served. It
proved very strange to us talking off sideways and not being sat next to each
other [so Diana could bruise Malcolm’s hands on take off] but it was very
comfortable being able to stretch out on our additional seat.
At meal time there was no
plastic in sight. A crisp white starched
tablecloth appeared [on our individual large table] with a brown linen runner. We ate from a breakable plate with steel
cutlery and the fillet steak, asparagus et al were arranged on the plate as in
a restaurant and was beautifully cooked and delicious. We failed to miss the usual plastic boxes
with tin foil tops and mush inside. Malc enjoyed sticky toffee pudding for dessert
and then we were served with cheese and biscuits and port from a separate cheese
trolley. Afternoon tea consisted of
another cloth, a two tier cake stand with sandwich fingers [crusts missing] a
selection of cakes and warm scone with jam and clotted cream. Thinks
with smile: ‘how the other half
live’
The seat turned over on
itself and formed a full length flatbed, complete with padded bottom sheet, duvet
and comfy cotton covered pillow. We both
arrived refreshed and ready for the delights of Los Angeles. More
thinks: ‘how the other half
live’
ARRIVAL and a rude
awakening! It took us ages to find the
special shuttle bus to the hotel [the cheaper option after all that
opulence]. We strode purposefully from
one end of the airport to another being told by different people it was ‘at the
other end of the airport boulevard!
After several miles we eventually found the right bus stop and waited
for a bus which would take us to all the ‘posh’ hotels in West Hollywood until
it arrived at our equally posh hotel another hour later and three hours from
landing. Thinks: next time don’t be such
a cheapskate and pay for a taxi, even if it is c£38 equivalent in dollars.
