Flying American Style

Here I am in Singapore, sitting in front of my Mother's laptop, surfing the net. But it's not entirely the same as Seattle... here I have cable ;)

Just kidding, I'll relate what tales of have from Singapore soon enough.

Flight over was my first run with Northwest Airlines, taking an A330-200 first on a 11 hour leg to Narita, Japan, then changing over for a 7 hour leg to Singapore. And, as much as I dreaded the experience of an "American airline" for the inevitable marathon journey, it wasn't bad at all. Plane was modern, had on-demand video, music and games in every seat (yes, even in economy), and I didn't have to deal with overly annoying children at any point during my travels. Most of the movies sucked, but at least they had "Miami Vice" which I did actually want to see.

The one thing I must say for Northwest, they know nothing about customer service. My first hint was that I arrived at the counter, to find ZERO counters dedicated to paper tickets. So it was "E-ticket checkin", or "Go to hell". Of course, with only one attendant on duty, it took awhile to even ask, and of course get berated for being in the e-ticket line (there was another line???)... wait awhile 'over there', and eventually a few of us are helped.

If you like in-flight service that doesn't bother you, NWA is for you. They get you in the air, then disappear for hours at a time. At one point, I waited 15 minutes on an attendant call, just for some water (being sick, I'm dehydrated to the point of being in pain), at which point I'm told to wait for the next drink service in 15 minutes and "Is that it?". But at least I wasn't the poor girl in the bathroom as we were landing, as the stewardesses yelled across the aisles mocking the poor clueless passenger. HELLO? WE CAN ALL HEAR YOU!

One regret was Narita - we were a little late arriving, and the security checkpoints were backed up. So in the end, all I got to see was the blur of my peripheral vision as I went running for the last call on my connecting flight. I was hoping to at least have a chance to pick up some random tacky Japanese airport merchandise to bring home.

On the plus side, I always love Singapore customs. They don't talk to you. At all. A depressed stare, read over your entry card, scan your passport, and send you on your way. Every time. This of course beats Seattle, where I received the dreaded "SSSS" on my boarding pass (ie. TSA secondary screening). At least the man assigned for the inspection of my personal spaces had a sense of humour; possibly the first in the history of all US Government officials!