This article, with a new addendum added June 26, 2007, has been moved to my new blog, Usability Bitch.
Category Archives: travel
Airport Reports: Malpensa
Looks as if I’m a frequent traveller again this year, and I hope that will hold true for some time to come. I’ve been relatively quiet for the last six years – usually only one annual trip outside Europe – but it’s time to spread my wings again. Travel woman: that’s who I am and what I do.
Today’s flight, courtesy of Sun Microsystems, takes me from Milan to Frankfurt to Denver, on a United Airlines-Lufthansa code share. First problem arises from “code share.” I woke up at 3 am with an anxiety attack (I do that sometimes) and thought I should check in online in advance, as I had done coming back from my last trip on British Airways (they even had a very cute online application that let me choose my seats).
The tickets for this trip were purchased (by AmEx Business Travel, using my credit card), from United Airlines, but the aircraft appears to be Lufthansa all the way. So I went to the Lufthansa.com to check in. They didn’t recognize my credit card, kept asking for another. And that was the only option offered – no possibility to enter the record number, which I have on the printed out e-ticket.
I tried United’s website, and they apparently recognized me via the credit card, but told me I had to check in with Lufthansa. Argh.
Went back to sleep, woke up at 5:15, showered, drank coffee, dithered and fiddled until Antonello (o peerlessly faithful taxi driver!) arrived bang on time at 6. In spite of a sudden thunderstorm along the way, we reached Malpensa just after 7, and I was checked in by 7:15.
Malpensa is not the world’s most interesting airport – no real bookshops and no music/video shops. I had another coffee (decaf this time), fresh-squeezed OJ, and a chocolate croissant for breakfast, went on through security (no line! I am always going to fly on Tuesdays from now on for the rest of my life – flights on Tuesdays are cheaper, too).
There are lots of expensive fashion shops at Malpensa, but nothing I’d actually buy. A nice business class lounge would be a welcome refuge, but KLM, in spite of the Platinum status they reinstated me to a while ago, won’t let me sit in their lounge because I’m not flying on them or one of their partner airlines (what good is Platinum membership if I can’t use it anytime I damn well please?). And I can’t use Lufthansa’s lounge because I’m not flying business class with them.
So I’m sitting on the floor by the departure gate next to a wall socket (look for them on the columns near the windows) – might as well save my laptop’s battery while I can, it’s going to be a long trip. This is the only socket for miles and I’ve got it – several other laptop owners are eyeing me jealously.
Destination for this flight is Frankfurt. Also not my favorite airport. I’ve flown through there to India several times, and the terminal those flights leave from is remarkably lacking in services. Probably the US flights leave from a different terminal, hopefully with something a little more exciting in the way of food than German sausages and beer (which are only available from smoke-filled bars).
Security
Here in Milan, I did not have to take out my laptop or take my shoes off. Does this mean their equipment is different (it looks the same as any other airport x-ray)? Or should I be worried about lax security? Or (sshh! don’t tell!) does this mean that the elaborate procedures at other airports are designed to make us feel more secure when actually we aren’t?
Dressing for Travel
In the travel forums I frequent, American tourists often ask how they can dress to not look like tourists in Italy. Some other American tourists reply: “They’re going to know you’re a foreigner anyway, so why bother?” But that misses the point.
I wish all American tourists were so attentive to the cultures they are visiting as to actively research how to dress for the local culture. On my last trip through Heathrow, I noticed a group of teenage girls travelling together (I always wonder where these globetrotting kids are going, and why), and was horrified by their attire. Most were wearing sweatshirts, baggy capri-length trousers, and flip-flops. One even had her U-shaped travel pillow stuck firmly around her neck. They all looked as if they had just come off the beach.
I’m neither a prude nor a snob, and there is something I like about Americans’ relaxed attitude towards dressing. It can be a profound relief after the “keeping up with the Joneses” fashionability of Italians (I don’t always bother). But, when in a foreign country, it seems disrespectful. I wish some of my fellow citizens would think a little harder about the impression they make on others.
Raclette: Another Way to Eat Swiss Cheese
The Swiss are a nation of cheese eaters, and have ways of eating cheese that involve special appliances – but are very easy and tasty once you have the equipment.
Raclette was traditionally a (large) half wheel of cheese placed with its open face near an open fire so it would start melting. The melty layer would be scraped off and eaten while you waited for more to melt. You can still have raclette that way at restaurants and mountain refuges, but you can also have it at home, with the handy-dandy raclette cooker shown above, and cheese that you buy in convenient bricks or slices.
You put a slice of cheese into the little tray, put it under the raclette grill, and wait for it to melt.
In the meantime, you heap your plate with boiled new potatoes and pickled vegetables. You must drink hot tea or cold white wine. To drink cold water with any melted cheese dish will cause the cheese to curdle in your stomach and make you sick. The Swiss firmly believe this, and who are we to buck tradition?
The little wooden spatula shown above will be used to scrape the cheese out of the tray.
^ Here the cheese is almost melty enough to eat.
And here we are! Paprika and fresh-ground pepper have been sprinkled on top. After this I stopped photographing and started eating!
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Swiss Recycling
The Swiss are terribly organized and disciplined in everything, not least recycling.
These photographs were taken in the recycling center of a village (Cortaillod) near Neuchatel.
Above you can see (front left) a gray box for different types of batteries (separate compartments for different types). The blue mesh bin is for plastic bottles, with the instruction: “Air out, cap on!” Rear left are collecting bins for old clothes, from two different charities. Rear right is the big paper bin, also divided into sections for different types of paper.
^ Glass must also be separated, by color.
^ Bins for various kinds of aluminum packaging.
The green bin is exclusively for the aluminum containers used in Nespresso coffee machines. I’m guessing that Nestlé supplies the bin – it’s a form of advertising, when you think about it.
   
^ Robyn demonstrates the user of the can crusher.
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KLM Tries Harder… But Fails
In my Silicon Valley heyday I was a Platinum-level frequent flier on both KLM and British Airways, thanks to business class flights from Italy to San Francisco four or more times a year. When I quit Roxio in 2001, I stopped flying business class (in fact flew far less in any class at all), and was steadily demoted by both airlines.
A couple of years ago, after its merger with Air France, KLM began actively soliciting my custom. They made me a Platinum Plus member for life, and sent me a bottle of champagne to celebrate KLM’s anniversary. BA, on the other hand, eventually dropped me from their list, and I never heard from them again.
I am now planning a trip to Singapore and Malaysia for myself and my daughter in June. KLM not only has the best prices, they’ve kept themselves in the forefront of my attention by letting me know they care to have my custom. I think they’ll get it.
…
I wrote the above before March 26th. On that date, my beloved aunt died in Texas, and I decided to fly there for the funeral (I had already gone twice in recent years to visit her during hospital stays).
I know that there are, or used to be, special fares offered to airline passengers in cases of emergency or bereavement. I also knew, from recent experience, that some international airlines do not now offer such: I had helped a friend book a flight from Milan to Tel Aviv for a funeral, and Alitalia told me they do not offer bereavement fares.
But I thought I’d give KLM a shot, especially in light of the warm fuzzies mentioned above. I logged into the special frequent fliers area on their website and searched for any information on bereavement fares. Nothing to be found.
I checked their online booking system to see how things looked for the dates I needed (I had some flexibility – the funeral was scheduled for the following Saturday – but could not stretch things infinitely since I would be missing work and my daughter school). The price wasn’t ultra-low, around 550 euros each was the best I could figure out in the reservation system. I was half out of my head with grief and not sure I could trust myself to book online without messing things up, so I tried calling the (Italian) customer service number listed there for ultra-special Platinum members such as myself. What I got was a phone menu with a lot of choices, none of which seemed to be “talk to an actual human being to book a flight.”
Searching elsewhere on the site, I found a general reservations number for Italy. Called that – closed on Sundays.
I finally found a booking number in the Netherlands, and called that (international long distance call!). Lo and behold, a real human woman answered, so I explained the situation. No, they don’t have bereavement fares, she said. What they do in these cases is book you at the lowest available fare. (Uh, wouldn’t I have done that anyway?) I asked her if she could book the flights for me, just so I wouldn’t make any mistakes in my state of distraction. She quoted me a price of 1100 euros each. I was startled, to say the least.
“But I just saw a fare at half that on your website!”
“It’s a different market. You’re calling Holland, we can’t access the fares available from Italy. Your best course is to book it yourself on the website.”
By now I was getting irritated enough that adrenaline was clearing my head and confusion would no longer be a problem, but I gave her one last chance to do the right thing:
“I’m a Platinum Plus frequent flier with KLM, I have just told you that I am in mourning and making an emergency trip for a funeral, and this is the best you can do to help me?”
“Yes, it is.”
So I booked my flights online. With Continental. Didn’t save much money over what I would have paid KLM (in fact, it was all so expensive that I have had to give up the Malaysia trip), but I got a far more convenient departure time. The six-hour layovers in Newark each way were less welcome, but we used the time to visit with my good friend Mithu (who works near Newark Airport), and have (well-deserved and much-needed) spa treatments at the terminal.
As for KLM, they’re going to have to try a lot harder now.
Share your airline experiences – who do you like (or not), and why (or why not)?
