Business Class Lottery

To some it may come as a surprise that the world’s best airlines are in Asia. To others who know the industry and know this region, it’s not surprising at all. Asia isn’t what it once was a half Century or more ago. Today, highly functioning economies here have brought money, and with it discerning tastes, and high expectations. Partnered with this is national pride and immense competition in the airline industry. Take for instance the Los Angeles-Taipei route. On the day I left, there were 7 flights between these destinations on three different airlines. Simply put, if airlines aren’t committed to innovation, or don’t offer exceptional service, they’ll be left behind.

Ask anyone to name the top airlines in the world, and you’re likely to hear Singapore Airlines and Cathay Pacific. For years, these airlines have set the benchmark for airline excellence. I have flown both, but to be fair it’s difficult to compare, because the first involved five flights between North America and Australia, while my only Cathay Pacific experience was a one hour hop from Taipei to Hong Kong. Mind you, I did enjoy the cockpit jump seat on the return to Taipei, back when that was allowed.

Malaysia Airlines is a relative newcomer to the 5-star club, and my first on this trip. With nothing to do at LAX, I, and 350 other passengers waited restlessly at the gate for our 19+ hour flight to Kuala Lumpur, with a stop in Taipei. During this time, a number of passengers were called to the desk for important messages. This is called the business class lottery. It’s actually a lottery that only a handful of people are entered, which I suppose makes for good odds, because the majority of passengers know their names will never be called.

Just before boarding commenced the gate agent announced. “Would passenger Kenneth Donohue come to the desk for an important message.” I won the lottery. But I didn’t want to win the lottery. The story I was intending to write for the magazine was about the economy class service of the 5-star airlines.

I went to the counter and some kind man said I had been upgraded to business class and handed me two boarding passes—one for the flight to Taipei and another for the continuing service to Kuala Lumpur. But…but…but… This was the only word that tried to escape my mouth before he said “Enjoy your flight!”

My mind was racing. I kept wondering what I should do. I don’t think anyone has ever turned down an upgrade before. There probably isn’t a procedure for that, and besides they had already moved passengers around and presumably given my economy class set at 40A to someone else.

How was I going to spin this one? How can I be true to the original intent of the story if I’m sitting at the front of the plane in my lie-flat seat that comes equipped with pre-set controls for dining, lounging, and sleeping. And a button that starts a 10-minute massage?

Once on board, I did ask the purser if I could sit in economy on the Taipei-Kuala Lumpur leg. “You want to sit in economy,” he asked incredulously, wondering why I would ever want to contemplate such a thing. I then concluded that life is unpredictable, and sometimes things change. The big test is how we deal with change and unpredictability. So, I sunk into my sumptuous business class seat and tested the massage function. In fact, I pressed that button a number of times during the long flight, and I can tell you it works just fine.

I won’t bore you with all the details, at the moment. Suffice to say the service was excellent with flight attendants being gracious and friendly. They had warm smiles and a playful spirit that is often lacking from airlines in Europe and North America. The food was delicious, and I arrived in Kuala Lumpur as rested as anyone could have, having spent 26 hours getting here. If I were to find any faults it would be the overheated croissant I was served on the first leg. Think hard and crunchy. Even the person sitting next to me commented on the croissant. Sounds like a small thing, but it shouldn’t happen in the premium cabin. To be fair, the croissant I had on the second leg was much better. And my only other complaint was waiting 40 minutes for my bags after arriving at Kuala Lumpur. It wasn’t even busy. In fact, the arrivals area looked deserted.

Tomorrow I’m off to Singapore, a short 40 minute flight on Malaysia Airlines.

LAX is a Dump

You’ll never find Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) on an airport ranking for quality service, and if you do it’ll be near the bottom. It’s a dump. In terms of passengers, LAX ranks about 5th in the world, moving 70 million passengers. From here you can go almost anywhere in the world. In fact, it is one of the few airports in the world that serves six continents, but there are bus stations that are more redeeming than this airport.

For a fleeting moment, I thought I was being too harsh, so I checked the thesaurus to see if I could fine a nicer word for dump. The first words that jumped out were—leave, abandon, discard—as in leave this airport immediately, and how much longer until my flight leaves. But I wasn’t really looking for a verb, so dump will have to suffice.

Maybe I’ve come to expect good airports, because I live in Vancouver, where the local airport authority has invested millions of dollars it receives in Airport Improvement Fees to actually improve the airport.

Now some might argue that the airport has gone a little over the top, but there is no denying that Vancouver International Airport (YVR) is one of the loveliest medium sized airports in the world. In fact, skytrax has named it the best airport in North America, while the Airports Council International ranked it as fourth best in the 15-25 million passenger category, behind only Kuala Lumpur, Zurich, and San Diego. Now, I’m not one of those navel gazing, Best Place on Earth British Columbians, so I know that more improvements can be made to YVR, but it feels comfortable. Look to Asia if you want to know what a quality airport looks like.

For the airport authority, it’s about creating a sense of place. With its massive west coast aboriginal art collection, numerous water features, and green and blue colour palette, visitors know they have landed in British Columbia, Canada’s westernmost province. LAX, in turn, makes one feel like they have arrived in East LA, rather than the glitzy entertainment capital of the world.

After landing, my Alaska Airlines flight had to hold short of the gate, while the contracted grounds crew finished eating donuts, or whatever it was they were doing that prevented them from directing our plane in, as scheduled. I had plenty of time for my connecting flight to Malaysia, but I had been warned that the flight was busy, so not to delay checking in. To exit Terminal 3, passengers are guided through a long, wide corridor that feels more like a tunnel. The white, sterile-looking tiles on the wall gave the feel of being in a long neglected bathroom. Someone tried to give the corridor some life, by putting smaller, colourful tiles on one wall. It still felt like a bathroom.

Once outside, it was just a short walk to the International Terminal, which is named after Tom Bradley, who was a five-time mayor of Los Angeles. If he were still alive, I think he may be a tad embarrassed with the edifice that bears his name.

I walked inside and fortunately found the Malaysia Airlines check-in counter right away. The long line snaked away from the counter. People inched their baggage-ladened carts forward. It was hard to know where the line began, although the agents did a fairly good job at directing people. I stood at the end of this massive queue for a few minutes, until the people in front of me were directed to the, “Transfer. No baggage” counter, even though they had baggage to check. Since my luggage had already been put through to Kuala Lumpur, I quickly joined them. After checking in, passengers had to queue again, in an equally long line. This time to put their bags through a security scanner. I’m not sure why this can’t be done when the passenger checks-in, but I’m sure the Transportation Security Administration has a logical reason.

The family that had been in front of me joined this new line. The Dad looked at me and said, “welcome to a third world airport!” Presumably he has endured this circus before. Because I had no checked luggage, I was free to go to security. Now I know why they tell people to arrive 12 hours before your flight. I did notice they made it through that ordeal, because I saw them 19 hours later at the baggage carousel in Kuala Lumpur waiting for their luggage.

I needed to get a book for the long flight. I debated whether to look for one before going through security, or after where there may be more shops. My intuition told me to get it beforehand. I spotted a newsagent, and browsed the shelves. I was first drawn to Anderson Coopers’s, Dispatches from the Edge: A Memoir of War, Disasters, and Survival. I wonder if he’s ever reported from LAX?

Surprisingly, security was a relative breeze. Since I had more than an hour until my flight boarded, I thought I would browse through the plethora of shops that large international airports are known for. But LAX isn’t like most international airports. I found a currency exchange and a little stand selling duty free, which resembled a hot dog stand on a Manhattan street corner. I wandered along, hoping to stumble upon a large shopping arcade. Instead, I came to a little newsstand that was doing brisk business selling water, and because of the late hour, neck pillows. That was it. A magazine shop, or two and a small restaurant. So this is what it was like in the Soviet Union three or four decades ago.

In some areas, construction was evident. I only hope someone is dreaming big. With nothing to keep us occupied, I joined the other 350 restless people waiting for our flight at the gate for more than hour. Then the gate agent announced that we were now allowed to leave LAX. A spirited rush of people streamed onto the airplane.