Nick’s birthday

The Cathedral bells rang out loud and clear at 6.45 this morning and the din just about woke Nick up. Ok, so not exactly REAL Cathedral bells, but Nick’s alarm. Neither of us is a morning person, so we like to ensure we have enough faffing time to ensure we’re not rushed. In fact we were very calm and got downstairs in good time for our taxi.

Having been deposited at terminal 2 we headed for Turkish Airlines and fell at the first hurdle. There was the signage for Turkish Airlines, but not what we were after. Eventually, we found our desk hidden way back behind the main desks, which helpfully said it was closed. Not being deterred, we headed for the desk and found it was, in fact, open. I’m here to announce that my suitcase was just under 20 Kgs (with all my worldly goods) and Nick’s was just over 20 Kgs. Blimey, I could have stashed all sorts of things in my extra large suitcase. Hey ho, I need to be able to lift these cases and 20 Kgs is in my comfort zone. During the checkin procedure the chap on the desk was rather vague about where the lounge was, for good reason.

We headed for “fast” track. And dutifully waited in the queue. Life has taught me to never mess with airport security and do exactly what I’m told. We waited some more. We were then moved to another queue where a family of 4 was using every available basket to put their belongings into. And there we continued to stand. Then the supervisor was called. Much muttering and pointing at the screen. Eventually the supervisor seemed satisfied with whatever the problem was and the queue slowly moved forward. Fast track? I don’t think so.

Everything off and in the basket. I always enter the security zone with trepidation and this morning was no different. I triple checked that I have removed all offending articles that might set the alarms off. Almost as predicted, the alarms went off and for some reason I still looked guilty, I blurted out that it must be my bionic hip that had set the alarms off. Nick smugly snuck through while I got the full 360 degree machine. Thankfully they didn’t find anything dodgy other than a sparkling bit of metal in my left hip. We were released to get on our way to find the lounge.

United Airlines lounge, B3. The signs were clear and the walk was long. Escalators up, stairs down, round bends, up ramps, down ramps. What felt like 5 miles later, we reached the lounge.

It being Nick’s birthday, we naturally had to have a glass of pop. Or two. As luck would have it, our boarding gate came up as B35, which was pretty much next to the lounge. Phew, our concern was that we’d have to trek all the way back to gate A.

Turkish Airlines is…relaxed with its service. We found our seats and that was it. Other airlines we’ve been on before have almost fallen over themselves with their speed of service. Not so with Turkish Airlines. It’s more, last to the post wins. And so we settle ourselves in. And “patiently” wait. Don’t they know it’s Nick’s birthday? Eventually a very bored chap arrives with a tray…of orange juice, lemonade, water…errrrrrr and that’s it. “Um, may we have 2 glasses of Champagne please?” I ask in a pathetic semi-alcohol-dependency type of voice and got a hurrumpf followed by a flounce off. Ok, so in my book, that’s not a “no”. There is much drama ahead of us as the lad locates the one bottle of “champagne” and we are served, with a sneer. We are the only ones who have requested alcohol. Yikes. The “champagne” is white but without bubbles. I have no idea what we had.

Having never flown with Turkish Airlines before, I did a bit of research before we came away. I am old enough to know the jokey strap line for Turkish Airlines. Google it if you’re not with me. Turkish Airlines now has an array of awards and one of them is its dining experience. All I can say is that the Turkish part of the meal was lovely. After our meal we had a packet of nuts. Ok, this totally weirded me out.

The landing into Istanbul was text book. No broken hand for Nick. I am improving. However, Istanbul airport is vast, humungous, gigantic and randomly flashes up direction signs just to fox the slightly bewildered traveller. We got off the plane to a sign clearly encouraging international transfers. Ok, that’s us. We had to show our next boarding passes to get past the chap. It was a bit of a bun fight with people largely ignoring him, but ditherers like us were holding up the queue of people wanting to get off the plane. We ambled off knowing we didn’t have to run after all, as our plane was delayed by 45 minutes. Not a problem. Continue to follow the signs to international departures. I kid you not when the next sign pointed us to a cupboard. All those in front of us clearly knew this idiosyncrasy of Istanbul airport, and swept past. Ok, unless this was a new Harry Potter plot, let’s follow the crowd. And so it came to pass that we had landed at gate A1 and our gate for our connecting flight was F18. The number of gates at Istanbul airport goes to … you guessed it, F19. Ok, so we’re walking the full length of the airport.

We decide en route that we’ll slip off to the lounge for water, facilities and to have a breather during our hike. The lounge signs were really clear, so we approached the chap on the entrance flashing our boarding cards. Around the corner, he informs us. We went around the corner which was into the fragrance department of duty free. Seeing a couple of lost souls, the locals helped us out and “round the corner” turned out to be another quarter mile.

Boarding our next flight to our final destination I decided not to humiliate myself and just accepted the offered water. I am clearly losing it. However, when meal time arrived we were asked what drink we’d like. By “drink” I mean drink … singular. Other flights we’ve been on have virtually left us the bottle to crack on, eventually descending into a happy stupor. Not so Turkish Airlines. May we have a champagne and a red wine please? That took several attempts that no, we didn’t want one of each, but we both wanted both drinks.

I have to give it to Turkish Airlines though, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the New Year in with such a clear head.

Happy New Year from Mr & Ms Sober-Smug.