UPDATED FLIGHT BLOG: Greetings From Lufthansa!

Sights from the Airport Lounge

Well, here I am, about to depart for yet another flight, but unlike other flight blogs, or flogs, this one is special. I’m not headed to the sunny climes of Los Angeles. Far from it. I’m flying off to the mysteriously inviting world that is Eastern Europe. That’s right, I’m jet-setting off to Prague, and I couldn’t be more excited. This will be my first ever international flog. But even better, I’m flying Business Class — also a flog first. This should lead to a whole new level of fascinating observations.
The action should all take place momentarily. I’m slated to board in about t-minus seven minutes, and as this is the first time I’ve flown Lufthansa, I’m quite excited. I’ve spent the latter part of the past hour sitting here in the Business Class lounge, which technically belongs to SAS, not Lufthansa, but that’s okay. I’m open to all countries and their swanky lounges. As you can imagine, this one has a high number of flaxen Danes and Swedes present. I thought I had spotted three or four German hausfraus, but alas, upon further inspection (ie. the newspapers they were reading), I’d have to place them somewhere in the Oslo region.
When I haven’t been doing any ethnic sleuthing, I’ve been snacking on the wide array of breads, cheeses, and cookies. I thought about boozing it up too, but quite frankly, I just didn’t feel like it. Instead, I’ve merely focused on the food. I’ve already gone back for seconds (the sesame bun was a mid-afternoon delight — especially when paired with an ample helping of herbed cream cheese), and I was quite happy to discover a huge selection of nicely arranged Pepperidge Farm cookies. Milanos? Don’t mind if I do!
Well, I should probably close up shop now. Perhaps there’ll be an update in Frankfurt. See you in many hours…

4:28 PM
WELL. Isn’t this absolutely delightful? So far, I’m loving the Lufthansa Business Class treatment. Everything has been so polite and professional. There’s nary a child in sight. I might not even have anything to complain about all trip (although, it is getting a little warm in here — but that’s really just a minor quibble if anything). You see, this flight is actually a Business Jet —  meaning that the entire plane is only Business Class. I think the only family on board is, well, mine. All the other passengers appear to be business people; so as you can imagine, they’re all quiet and focused. Plus, a good portion of the crowd is European too; so I just automatically assume they have good manners. It really reduces the stress when you don’t have a bunch of idiots roving around the cabin.
Truthfully, the entire process has been stress-free. There was literally no line at security —  and no, I wasn’t in any special Business Class line (although I would have liked that, only for bragging rights) —  and when we boarded, there was like no one waiting in front of us to get on the plane. That, of course, is because we apparently were one of the last people to get to the gate, but hey, that’s all right. It’s not our fault the SAS Lounge announced our boarding time late.
Once I was all settled into my seat (which is big and awesome and the best ever), I happily listened as the flight crew made its usual announcements, and I must say there was something sort of commanding about hearing a German accent inform you of all the necessary details. It was like I felt the need to sit up straight and listen. At one point, despite the soothing tones of his voice, I half expected the flight attendant to bark, “YOU FLY TO GERMANY NOW!”
I think I then lost myself in Newsweek for a good thirty minutes because the next thing I knew, we were airborne and the flight attendants were handing out menus (not to mention scaldingly hot towlettes). I immediately perused the offerings, settling rather quickly on the following choices:
Hors D’oeuvre: Smoked tuna with Asian salad and sweet chili sauce.
Salad: Mixed salad presented with dressing. (I love how the salad is presented with dressing. How wonderfully yet unnecessarily formal)
Entre: Beef tenderloin served with grilled chayote, oyster mushrooms, and truffle vinaigrette.
Dessert: Apple cobbler with vanilla sauce. (I was really hoping for some sort of chocolate offering, but alas, it was apple cobbler or cheese —  the latter of which I would have gladly taken too, had I not gorged myself with the dairy offerings available at the SAS Lounge).
Hark! A flight attendant comes this way bearing a table cloth and beverage service. I must move my laptop out of the way.
5:18 PM
So much has happened, and all of it GLORIOUS.
As I mentioned earlier, the cocktail service came through, and while my parents played it safe with water and apple juice, I immediately indulged in some champagne. I felt very civilised. That’s right — so civilized that I employed the British “s” of haughtiness. Soon after the beverages arrived, another flight attendant handed out the portable entertainment devices, which are like little TVs that have movies and whatnot stored up in them. Watching my parents fiddle with them has been somewhat hilarious to me. You know the way it is with parents and technology. It’s always sort of a bizarre train wreck. Of course, learning the entertainment systems was nothing compared to the great Reclining Dilemma of 2008 when my parents had to figure out the many intricacies of the Lufthansa sleeper seat. To be fair, there were a few complexities, but it was still amusing watching Mom and Dad poke around for the necessary buttons to lift their foot rests and whatnot.
Anyway, the flight attendants soon came by again to collect all the various wrappers that had accumulated from the collective distribution of both headsets and peanuts. The women placed our wrappers on a little tray, and I wasn’t sure if it was meant for just wrappers or trash in general. The guy next to me put his cocktail napkin on it; so I immediately followed suit. The flight attendant looked at me sort of quizzically, and I realized that it was odd that I’d be giving up the napkin and not the glass. Not knowing what else to do, I simply placed my empty glass on this tray, thus establishing a veritable skyscraper in a city of plastic wrappers. The flight attendant again looked at me strangely (ever so slightly though) and politely asked, wouldn’t I be wanting a refill?
Well, I didn’t really want a refill, but now that she had mentioned it, I did kind of feel like one. But how could I take the glass back? I had already committed to the tray, which was apparently already sort of a weird thing to do since it really was a wrapper-only tray. It was very awkward. I merely smiled and said that nah, I didn’t really want a refill.
About ten minutes later, the flight attendant came by with the beverage cart again, and I acted as if I had just suddenly had a spontaneous change of heart. “You know what? I think I will have another champagne after all!” How embarrassing for me.
6:57 PM
As you can see, it’s been a while since I’ve written an update. It’s not for lack of trying. Dinner service turned out to be quite the lengthy affair. Every time I took my laptop out to write an update, the flight attendants came by with yet another course. I’m definitely not complaining.
For starters, I got that smoked tuna appetizer, which was quite tasty. It came with a cheese plate on the side (always a pleasant surprise) and the much hyped mixed green salad. And yes, the dressing was QUITE the presentation. Actually, it was just a vinaigrette in a little bottle. But a presentation nonetheless.
Of course, the appetizers didn’t come without their share of follies. A flight attendant gave me some bread, and I haphazardly took my newly acquired roll and placed it on my tuna plate. Unfortunately, for those who’ve been keeping track, the tuna came with an Asian salad, and of course, that just HAD to be served with — or rather PRESENTED — with a sweet chile sauce. Well, thanks to my unscrupulous bread placement, my roll got all sorts of “presentation” on it, which was fine taste-wise, but it only took about three seconds before all my fingers were sticky with the heretofore benign red sauce. How very gauche. I guess as the resident child on the flight, it was my duty to get messy and annoying, but still, I felt slightly ashamed.
Well, after appetizers, the flight attendants wheeled out the entrees, and in a surprising twist, I opted not for the beef but for the pasta dish. I would read you the description, but it’s dark in here now, and I don’t want to turn on a light to read the menu. Anyway, the beef just didn’t look as inviting as it did on the menu. I did toy with the notion of seabass, but echoes of Airplane rang through my head, and I decided I would not get the fish. As is often the case, the vegetarian pasta option on planes is usually the best choice, and so at the last minute, I went for the ravioli. I’ll tell you this much: I enjoyed it greatly. It wasn’t the best ever, but I felt happy with my decision. My mom tasted it and felt her seabass was way better, but between you, me, and whoever just farted behind me (and yes, that did happen), I thought the pasta was the superior dish.
Last came dessert. My previous concerns about a lack of chocolate offerings proved to be unfounded. Each passenger was handed a little box with two delectable chocolates inside: one dark, one milk. They had fillings too, but I don’t remember what they were. I feared that they might contain strawberry or raspberry, which I HATE, but thankfully, I was spared such a berry-tinged fate.
After the chocolates, we were also given a choice between apple cobbler and fruit salad. No surprise here: I stuck with my plan and partook of the cobbler. I liked it quite a bit, but I would have been just as happy to have had a second box of chocolates. Or a third. Or a fourth.
In terms of beverages, I drank a Chardonnay with my pasta, and after dessert, I decided to get all fancy schmancy and order a small glass of cognac. It was very sophisticated and jet-setty in theory, but then I quickly discovered that oh yeah, I don’t really like cognac very much. I pushed my way through most of the drink (waste not, want not), but ultimately, I decided it wasn’t absolutely necessary for me to finish it. I felt like a bad Dartmouth alum, what with leaving alcohol over and such, but sometimes you just gotta act like one of those Harvard types. (Oh SNAP! Random Ivy zing!)
After the meal was finally done, the flight attendants promptly turned off all the lights as if to say, “YOU SLEEP NOW!” It’s sort of funny with these types of red-eyes. It’s light and sunny one minute, and two seconds later, it feels like 11:30 PM at night.
Before it got pitch black in here, however, there was a minor drama. The flight attendants were slowly rolling their beverage cart down the aisle, and one guy decided to start fiddling with his tray. The way the seats are configured on this plane, all the trays pop out of the armrests, not the seat backs. Well, this guy began fiddling with his tray —  which was already out —  and he swiveled it right into the aisle. Lo and behold, it struck the champagne bottle that was (I think) in the flight attendant’s hand. The bottle immediately dropped at his feet, and the booze spilled everywhere. Even better, it all came pouring out of the bottle with an urgent, fizzy sound — not entirely unlike a cornered asp fighting back a predator. The best part though was that the flight attendant didn’t gush apologies. I mean, she was apologetic, but unlike American flight attendants who get all flustered and whatnot, this woman just sort of bent down, cleaned everything up, and took care of the situation as if she had merely dropped a pretzel on the guy’s shoe. It was all so cold and efficient: I loved it. “I CLEAN UP NOW!!!”
Now I’m here in my seat, and it’s dark, and there’s nothing really to talk about. I was thinking about watching Enchanted on my little video thing (it’s for work, believe it or not), but I only got four hours of sleep last night. I think I may try to get some shut eye. I might as well take advantage of these crazy reclining seats, right?
10:52 PM / 4:52 AM
Well, I just had breakfast. It was kind of odd. It’s still dark out; so honestly, it feels like less like 4:52 AM and more like 10:52 PM. Without the sun up, my brain hasn’t psychologically resolved the fact that it’s actually very early in the morning. It’s all very screwy. I think I got maybe an hour of sleep total on this flight. The super reclining seats were a joy, but ultimately, I just can’t sleep on planes. Even with just four hours of sleep the night prior, I’m entirely too awake. Ooh! The pilot is talking. We’re going to be landing in about fifteen minutes. Let the internal clock shenanigans continue!
7:00 AM
It’s been about an hour and change since I’ve landed here in Frankfurt. I’m awaiting my connection to Prague, or Prag as they say here. For this airport experience, we’ve opted to bypass the Business Class lounge as it is simply too far from the gate. Actually, I would have gone to it, but that’s only because I’m a very swift walker and am not concerned about the trek back to the gate. Getting to this gate was an experience in and of itself. Frankfurt happens to be a very large airport, and that combined with the confusing effect of SO MUCH GLOSS in the wee hours of the morning can be somewhat disorienting. Luckily, we didn’t get too lost, despite another traveler nearly sending us to the baggage claim. Fear not though. We thankfully refrained from going down the escalator that would surely have led to our immediate travel demise. Still, I was amazed at how one well-intentioned stranger could turn the simple plan of “Follow the signs to Gate A11” into an absolute free for all: dad wanted to follow the guy, mom wanted to look for signs we might have been missing, and I wound up trying to reassure all involved parties that the initial plan was indeed sound. Needless to say, when we all found ourselves at some lonesome, rarely-used staircase, our navigational woes hit a nadir, and it was clear that we should have never strayed from the plan in the first place. Order was restored and voila, here we are at the gate.
Hmmm… the lady next to us just moved. I think our gate changed. Investigating…
7:26 AM
Ten miles later… turns out that our gate changed from A11 to A24, and if it was announced, it was announced very quietly (and/or in German exclusively). Chances are the announcement was in English too, but I simply didn’t hear it. Thankfully, the woman sitting across from us hurriedly left, which made me think something was up. Turns out that with our new gate location we could have been hanging in the lounge all along. Oh well. (And, of course, had we been in the lounge, we probably would have heard the announcement in the first place). Anyway, the impromptu trek certainly added some excitement to things. I got to pass by a little sandwich place amusingly named Kaffeekultur. Actually, it’s not that amusing. I just tend to enjoy German compound words. On the airplane, there was a thing of hand lotion in the bathroom, and it was appropriately named “Handlotion.” How very modern.
Okay, Dad is asking me about blogging and whatnot. I must answer questions.
7:33 AM
Interesting. There’s a big plane parked at a nearby gate, and on its side are pictures of giant German children’s faces. It apparently has something to do with McDonald’s. I know this because next to the children is text that says “Die McDonald’s fussball eskorte.” There’s also smaller text saying “McDonald’s player escort.” Is this some sort of children’s soccer team? I’M CONFUSED BY THESE GERMAN TOUCHES.
Oh, and what was even more interesting was the little smoking section reserved for, well, smokers. It wasn’t so much a section as it was a small cage where ten people could cram inside and enjoy their smokes. Kind of like the German architecture equivalent of yelling, “YOU SMOKE HERE NOW!”
Uh oh. Battery’s dying…
Epilogue
So the fun little ending to my global travels is that I did finally wind up here in Prague. We took a smaller, less luxurious flight from Frankfurt to Prague, which was fine, except the wait for takeoff felt interminable for me. We weren’t delayed. I just wanted to get there already. I will say this though. We could have gotten off the tarmac a lot quicker had we not had to wait for two lazy Americans to get on board. And yes, THEY WERE FROM BOSTON (Red Sox hats). How awful. I’m shocked they didn’t chant “Yankees suck!” while they lumbered down the aisle.
The good news was that even though Massholes were prolonging my travel experience, I still managed to enjoy myself thanks to the flight attendants who proved to be a bit more stereotypically Teutonic in their announcements. “NOW WE SHOW YOU HOW THE SEATBELT WORK!” the sturdy woman on the PA system blared. I’m not even making that up. A few minutes later, she then followed it up with the stern declaration, “NOW WE SHOW YOU HOW THE MASK WORK!” It was kind of everything I’d every wanted from Lufthansa, and then some.
Anyway, I tried to get some sleep on the plane, but about fifteen minutes after take off, we were served breakfast (plain yogurt, fruit, mueslix — pretty much what you’d expect) and then about ten minutes after that, we were preparing for landing. Long story short, we arrived at the hotel at around 10ish in the morning, and I was going to post this flight blog then, but my mom had to use the computer, and while I waited, I kind of, well, fell asleep. I’ve since spent a good amount of time walking around, listening to classical music, eating food, and drinking beer. Twelve hours later, I’m back at my computer, and ready to publish this bad boy. So that’s it. I’m sure there will be several European updates to come…