jawnbc | J'ARRIVE

Fight was largely uneventful. Got my seat, sorted my carry-ons in the bin above, and settled in as the 4 flight attendants (for 40 pax) set out offering us pre-departure bevies, dinner menus, and hanging jackets. I busied myself sorting out how to adjust the chair, explore what of value was in the shave kit, and getting my sleep supplies (pills, earphones, max) close at hand.

My chair mate was a nice, very corporate looking man whose entire family were travelling in the seats immediately behind him (who for the most pat behaved impeccably). We were pleasant to one another, but left it at that.

Main meal was mushrooms and asparagus salad and very nice. My arctic char wasn’t, however. I think I’ll stick to what was so awesome up in NWT: mesquite grilled. Now reliant on bread to sate my hunger, I rang the flight attendant for more butter. **dinge** Nothing. 5 minutes later, again nothing. About the 6th time someone showed up, fairly annoyed, but I wasn’t having it.

“Have you been ringing? We can’t hear it in the galley”

“Well, yes, for over 10 minutes. I need some butter to finish my meal.”

“Oh I’m sorry. Of course!”

The served a nice cheese board and then a dessert of lemon tart, fruit crumle or fresh berries. I berried myself, tossed my sleep pills down me snout and did the pre-coma protocol:

-take long long pee
-wash face, hands and arms thoroughly
-locate ear plugs
-flush

Then I strap myself in, mist my face, cover my eyes, plug my ears and deep breathe. I got started a bit late, but managed to get just a bit less than 5 hours. Now in the British Midlands lounge awaiting my puddle jumper to Dublin. W00t!

All went according to plan. The seat reclines 151º, and AC gives nice duvets instead of blankets in Biz Class. They took our drink orders in advance so we could be served asap. Overall the service was excellent.

I ordered the artic char, but it was not very nice: very fish and retaining little of the real thing’s taste or texture. So I ate around it and when they offered another roll I accepted. But, realizing I had no more butter and range the call button. After 5 (real, as opposed to impatient kween) minutes I rung it again. Heard the bong each time. Still nothing. Then another every minute until someone came out. Who then brought me butter. But never asked if my meal was OK, having left the fish alone on the plate. Meh. The cheeses after were lovely and I scarfed down a bowl of strawberries and blueberries before taking pills.

So I took pills, which sometimes kick in after 15 minutes, but this was closer to 40. I checked our progress and saw we were only 5 hours from arrival time—so I put the “fook awf an’ leaves me alone” decal on my seat back. And woke up as they tidied the cabin. I cleaned my teeth and washed my face and got my self organized for arrival.

We were each even a VIP card to fast track us through Customs, which was a waive-through. Bags took a bit longer to come out, but once I had mine I rechecked it (priority again) for Dublin and started the 5k stroll from T3 to T1:UK/Ireland. Where I poked around in the shops, killed some time in the British Midlands lounge, stretched my legs for a bit and then boarded the hour flight to Dublin. Which was uneventful, except they charge for drinks: 1€ for a glass of diet Coke. If I didn’t need change for the bus, I’d have said “no thanks.”

Arrival easy, bag delay, out to curb to await bus, madness getting on, but turns out I rode this bus a few years when I came to Dublin for a job interview. So I chilled until we crossed the Liffey, then started scouring the streets for names. The bus dropped me in front of my hotel.

So far the Grafton Guest House is great: just outside Temple Bar, quiet, nice clean room and private bath, cable TV and (free?) wireless. I will be very comfy here for the next 3 days!

Time for some food!