A flight too far

Travails of the domestic flyer at modern airports 

Story first published in +Medium (Click on this to read)

Modern International Airports are purposefully designed like huge shopping malls aimed at seducing passengers — hanging out before flight departures — to eat, buy and otherwise spend money. While landing and airport usage charges pay for the operations, commission on shop, spa and restaurant sales are the real profit engines. That’s the revenue model on which commercial airport run. Hence, the unending walks to the boarding gates.

This works for long haul flights with early check-in and extended lay-over. But, for domestic or short-haul (as in Europe) — this can be a real pain as it increases pre-boarding time — to provide for the distance from check-in to the gates. Bulk of Domestic traffic comprise Business Travellers for whom time is at a premium. Much of that is wasted . Even if they treat the run to the plane as a substitute for their morning constitutional or evening run, the distance to baggage claim and, sometimes, the wait for bags to arrive on the belt becomes excruciatingly frustrating. And, all this is sheer torture for senior citizens — as our airports are far from “old age friendly” with buggies and wheel-chairs usually difficult to find.

That is why smaller city airports for domestic and short-haul flights make sense. In India — budget airlines like #Indigo6E did well to stay back in the old terminals in Delhi and Mumbai — while ‘full-service’ players like Jet have moved to the newer T3 and T2 respectively. Perhaps, from the airlines’ point of view it helps to have common ground and commercial infrastructure. Besides, Jet and Air-India have greater number of international connections and code-share flights — for which a common terminal is the way to go.

However, for the domestic passengers it can be a killer. Delhi T3 — it is still manageable as the Domestic Departure section is more sensibly designed. Though in Delhi too one has to commute a long distance from Security-Check to the Boarding Gates it is far more easily negotiable. The shopping area is much smaller and there are mechanised walk-ways all along. Availability of buggies and wheel-chairs are also better. But, Mumbai T2 is another story. It’s a forced tour of a “museum” — that becomes tiring after the first experience. There are no conveyor walkways till much after the shopping arcade. In adopting international designs — architects forget the fact that — the ordinary air-travellers in India are less fit than in Europe, Americas or even other Asian countries. Besides, we “Desis” travel with much heavier hand (cabin) luggage — beating the 6 kg limit with impunity — making it a punishment of sorts.

So, the bottom line is — I will think twice before taking my next flight out of or into Mumbai’s T2 — unless I have hours to kill (and lot of money to blow up) at the airport. That means — what’s #Indigo6E’s gain will be #JetAirways’ and #AirIndia’s loss. Not that they care, really.

Random rantings from the airport

A stand-up comedian had once described landing at the IGI Airport in Delhi after an overseas trip was like returning from a honeymoon with Aishwarya Rai to find Mayawati in your bed. Now that most of the metro city airports (and even some of the mini-metro and B-town ones) have undergone a major facelift – the experience of arriving at Calcutta’s NSCB Airport is a similar anti-climax.

But, like everything else in the city what irks me is not the lack of swank, glamour or glitz – but the sheer attitude of the people. The “priority” tagged bags invariably arrive last. And, on complaining – the Baggage Services staff of even Jet Airways would plead “helplessness” – putting up a lame excuse of not being able to handle the load of more than one flight at a time. If you point out to them that, Mumbai and Delhi have a dozen flights landing together – they have the ready answer of “there they have more staff” – we are a “small airport”. You don’t have the heart to tell them that even smaller stations like Guwahati and Raipur do a far better job – because you realize that they are as frustrated as you are.

The airline loaders sit around chatting and the ground staff can’t get them to move their asses even by pleading – as they are all “unionised”.

As you leave the airport – you are greeted with the shabbiest sight – worse than any railways station and chased by ‘professional beggars’ all the way to the car. What a first impression we create for visitors to the city ? Though some may even argue that – in Bengal we don’t try to ‘window dress’ reality and give it the way it is from the word go.

Mornings are veritable nightmares – with mile long serpentine queues at security that can take anything up to an hour to negotiate. Again the excuse is too many flights and too few security channels – when the reality is that Mumbai has as many or less channels and X Ray machines with many more flights leaving at the same hour. It’s amazing how the efficiency level of the same CISF staff fall dramatically when they are posted in Calcutta.

Will Mamata Banerjee’s promised “paribartan” change any of this ? I bet not. The genetic code of Bengalis have been permanently mutated – giving rise to jokes such as the similarity between Bongs and sperms (only one in a bloody million work !!). As a race we are suffering from mass dysthymia and need compulsory universal administration of Prozac. Till then, there will be little to chose between Didi and Behenji.

Bouillabaisse on the Corniche and 'Hindi Food' in the skies

Often the image of a place is romantically etched on the mind from something one has read or seen. And, very often it leads to disappointment when reality confronts imagination. This has happened many times over in my life.

The picture of Marseilles for me was encapsulated in the reproduction of a Paul Cezzane masterpiece, I had come across in a magazine long ago. So, on this trip when I decided to venture out of Paris over a free weekend – I took a TGV ride down south to Marseilles. I would have been disappointed had it not been for a kind colleague at the company HQ, who recommended a small inn away from the bustle of the port town – yet not too far from the heart of action – on Corniche John F Kennedy.

The corniche, which is really a split level stairway extending over 2 kms is sometimes referred to as the longest bench in the world, opens out to a magnificent view of the Mediterranean. The small ships ferrying passengers to Portugal, Spain, Morocco and Tunisia going past against the backdrop of the Frioul islands make a beautiful mental snapshot.

Buwee-a-bas

The Bouillabaisse (pronounce buwee-a-bas) - once a poor fisherman’s stew made of discarded fish, has now been elevated to the ranks of fine food - is the signature dish of Marseilles. True to French tradition for exacting culinary standards, only restaurants that have signed the “Bouillabaisse Charter” are accredited as serving the authentic stuff . But, at a price tag of Euro 60 per serving – Chez Fon-Fon or Le Ruhl (of Jacques Chirac fame) it was well beyond the shoe-string budget of the humble keeper of this blog – who chose to settle for the more affordable fare at a mid-town café, leaving him appropriately under-whelmed.

'Paise Hotel' in Paris

Brought up on a staple of clichés and stereotypes, one always associated French Cuisine with Fine dining and Parisian Cafes – until I discovered this little hidden treasure in the by-lanes of the St Germaine area called Polidor (Cremerie Restaurant Polidor at 41 Rue Monsieur-le-Prince – near Theatre d l’Odeon). Near rustic in ambience, it can be described roughly as a French equivalent of a “paise hotel” in Calcutta – with no exclusive seating, sharing long tables with other guests who are accommodated as they come, waitresses almost throwing the plates at you while placing the bread-basket and pitchers of vin-de-table from casks.

Being an incorrigible creature of habit, it has become my regular haunt ever since I was introduced to it by a friend – so much so this time around I chose a hotel next to it to stay in. But, serving traditional fare it is a place for serious diners – typified by two old asterix look-alike Frenchmen seating next to me, who went through all the courses from the Fish Terrine to the Beef-tongue Piquante wrapped up with a rich Crème Brulee and Espresso. When I am not in a mood for the pickled duck roast or veal in lemon sauce – I fall for a little taste of home in the Pork Madras Curry, obviously transported from the Pondicherry connection. (and, btw - they don't accept credit cards)

Gender Matrix on Air

Airline food is generally bad and some are ‘more bad’. But occasionally one is pleasantly surprised. One meal I look forward to is the Indian selection on the Jet Airways London – Mumbai / Delhi sector. Catered from the Bombay Brassiere – it is one of the best ‘Hindi food’ ( as a friend’s young son, quite appropriately – I think, calls North Indian cuisine) I ever had – be it up in the air 35k feet asl or with feet firmly on terra firma. It could well be that, after days of Continental food the taste buds crave for some spicy titillation. But, by the same token, how come I don’t find the ‘desi khana’ on other international airlines as appetizing ?

Somehow, on Jet I always prefer the vegetarian option – which is usually more innovative in comparison to the “chicken tikka masala” variant in the non-vegetarian menu. This time I really relished the ‘Lauki ka Kofta’ with real home-style Arhar ki Dal. The desserts are a treat – tho’ I usually pass the Rabdi or the Firni for the irresistible Haagen Dazs Belgian Chocolate Ice-cream.

Moving on to another 'in-flight' experience - tho' not of the culinary kind, on this trip – I came across a lady in a business suit moving around the cabin, who distinctly looked like a staff in mufti. Upon enquiring, I learnt that she was an ‘in-flight auditor checking on the quality of service. A short conversation later, she told me that recently the airline had a high turnover of staff – and they found such on-the-job training really useful for the new recruits. She taught me another new term “gender matrix” , that is apparently skewed a wee bit in favour of the male crews on international sectors and which they were trying to correct by inducting more women on board.

It is for these continuous innvovations and attention to details of customer service, Jet gets my vote for sheer professionalism – on ground or high in the skies.

Jet SFO Go or Bum-Showers at 35k feet

Titanic did happen – but I still found myself, both by design and default, on the inaugural flight of Jet Airways from Mumbai to San Francisco (via Shanghai) last Saturday. It was an unusual sight at the Check-in area. The airline top-brass – among them Jet’s executive face in India Saroj Datta - were sitting cross-legged on the floor for a full-fledged Puja and Havan with a dapper young pundit and a large TV Crew in attendance. A couple of Chinese men (presumably officials from the code-share partner ) and two Europeans pilots looked on bemusedly. While boarding we once again saw the priest coming out of the aircraft with his entourage – obviously having done another little ceremony inside the cockpit. I must say that it did something to quieten the superstitious murmurs of the heart.

The aircraft rolled out on the dot of 11.15 but then was held up – as is normal in Mumbai these days for nearly an hour on the tarmac for air-traffic delays. On the plane we were welcomed with a pack of Ferrero Rochers and a yellow rose-bud ( a large box and an orchid for the Biz Class and one could see a gooey chocolate cake doing the rounds in the First).

At Shanghai, the Chinese went a step further. A red carpet was laid out on the entire length of the aerobridge and huge red-lanterns hung on both sides of the passage way (tho’ a co-passenger commented, somewhat unfairly I thought, that it was the most tacky red-carpet she had ever seen). But, one received the ultimate reception on reaching San Francisco. As the aircraft taxied into the bay – a fleet of fire-tenders showered the air-craft with water sprays. The pilot informed that, this is an old custom followed for ships on their first call at a port. At the exit there were smiling airport officials waiting with boxes of chocolate and a welcome letter. Wonder what are the courtesies we extend for the debut flight of a foreign airline into India.

The flight was packed to its gills – except probably a few cabins in the front. “Naresh has pulled off a coup by getting the Chinese to grant landing rights for Shanghai” – remarked a very distinguished looking gentleman, an American-Chinese, who was ahead of me in the immigration queue (obviously an important person – as he had his personal valet receive him from the aircraft gate). " Now they won't give it to any other airline and this would be the shortest flight to the West-coast from India. You will see - it's going to be always full" - he added with an air of certainty. My curiosity aroused – I couldn’t help asking – what took him to India. “ Oh, I am a retired man who likes to travel the world – he said, covering his identity in the garb of modesty - had gone only for the inauguration at Naresh’s invitation”. Come to think of it – it’s hard to believe that just two years ago Jet was being denied permission to fly into the US. Its friends like him, I suppose, who help Mr Goyal open doors.

The in-fight service was great – warm, friendly and efficient as one has come to expect naturally from Jet and has learnt to forget on American and European carriers. There were quite a few Chinese among the cabin crew and announcements were being made in Chinese in addition to Hindi and English. Some of the Indian staff I spoke to were going to Shanghai and SFO for the first time, They were naturally excited at – what was like a new horizon of opportunity opening up for them. And, why not ? You can see this well-earned confidence in their dis-arming smiles and feel it in their gentle touch on the elbow or a light tap on the shoulder with which they get errant pot-bellied passengers to sit-down when the ‘fasten seat-belts’ signs are on.

The touch-down in San Francisco was late by about 2 hours for the accumulated delays of hold-ups at Mumbai and Shanghai. Finally, we can be proud of an international airline of our own that compares with the best in the world. It’d be interesting to imagine what JRD’s Air-India would have been today – had it not suffered the rape of nationalization through half a century.

While the predominantly Indian crowd on board was visibly overjoyed with the ‘desi khana’ and the Indian movies (including a fairly wide selection of regional films) – I for one appreciated a particular feature inside plane - the ‘bidet’ (bum-shower) in the toilet. A very customer friendly innovation for an IBS stricken race, I thought to myself while pressing the flush 35k feet over the Pacific.