05.07.03 BA1 LHR-JFK
BAe/Aerospatiale Concorde G-BOAG
Sched 1830-1725
Actual 1833-1720 (3:47)
To the airport, and check-in
We had not intended it quite like this, but we both arrived at Paddington Station at 2.15 pm, having progressively delayed our rendezvous there in stages for 30 minutes, and not having eaten anything during the day. We just made it onto the 1425 Heathrow Express.
The journey got off to a good and appropriate start because I was able to upgrade both of us to first class. I can sit in first class just by using my BAA WorldCard (branded credit card) to buy a standard class ticket, a perk that few seem to know about and which is worth the hassle that comes with dealing with a single-use credit card. BAA's shopping loyalty scheme WorldPoints is also one of the most inefficient I have ever dealt with. On this occasion, though, this produced a lucky result because last week they sent me, unsolicited, a batch of rewards which duplicated what I ordered 3 months ago for my previous JFK trip - including a pair of upgrade vouchers. Seeing as I had not then decided how to get to the airport for this trip, and later decided independently that we should take the train (largely due to the anticipated consumption of alcohol on the return flight), and not had time in between to think about ordering upgrade vouchers, this was providence indeed.
We duly arrived at T4 just before 3 pm and walked straight ahead (bliss!) from the Heathrow Express lifts to the Concorde/First check-in area. We were surprised to see that this check-in area was quite busy, with a party being dealt with by each agent and another party waiting in each queue. The meeter/greeter directed us to the check-in agent at the far end, who looked like she was just finishing with the person she was dealing with, and so we were seen to quite swiftly. This agent was the only less-than-friendly member of BA staff we dealt with on the whole trip. The check-in procedure was almost routine for a trans-Atlantic flight, save for the elegant silvery-grey Concorde boarding passes which she printed, and for the Concorde luggage tags affixed to our bags. I asked for and was given - cheerlessly - another pair of these tags in case the ones in use were damaged.
The Fast Track security channel (bliss!) was almost clear when we went through. Although my companion's bag caught the screener's eye, so that we had to wait for it to go through the explosives swab-and-sniff test, it didn't take long. But even the security screeners came up with a warm and sincere "Enjoy your flight!" when they saw the very distinctive boarding passes. It seemed like everyone was determined to make our day special - which, of course, it was.
The Concorde Room and the Molton Brown spa
The Concorde Room is on the "ground" (entry level) floor of the British Airways Lounge Pavilion. Of course, this is a very familiar spot because (in true British style) I'm normally either upstairs (in the Terraces lounge) or downstairs (having a shower in the Molton Brown spa, which shares the same level as the First lounge). This time we didn't have to go up or down to start enjoying ourselves, although we paused only for long enough to drop my rucksack in the luggage store before actually going to the spa to book some treatments. It was quite a busy afternoon, but there were two slots still available. One at 5 pm and one at 5.30 pm - but, the receptionist explained, they could only do a limited number of back massages for health and safety reasons (loads on the therapists' hands). My companion wanted a back massage (and deserved one after all the hard work she had done in the morning) so she took that appointment and I booked myself in for a facial (my first ever "beauty treatment") at 5.30 pm. All the treatments are 20 minutes in length.
Having secured our slots for this treat, we returned upstairs and ordered lunch. I'm not entirely sure that the Concorde Room menu is intended to provide a full lunch, but as you can imagine we were both absolutely starving. We ordered chicken soup, an Oriental prawn salad (dressed with a sweet chilli dressing) and a Mediterranean garden salad (full of sun-dried tomatoes, olives and green beans), and a plate of cheese (four different types, including Stilton, Wensleydale, double Gloucester and smoked applewood). Accompanying this was an ample supply of Pommery Cuve Louise 1989, which was repeatedly brought around the lounge so that you didn't even have to return to the bar to get a refill. Just as we were diving into the cheese, and with impeccable timing, the strawberries- and-cream trolley was brought around and we secured a couple of bowls of them. How were we going to fit any dinner in after that?
In the middle of all of this sybaritic pleasure, there were two noteworthy aircraft-related events. One was the sight of an Eva Air Cargo MD-11 tailgating some hapless 737 down to runway 27L, the touchdown point for which is just by T4. When I first saw this pair, I immediately remarked on the likelihood (or lack of it) of the 737 clearing the runway fast enough to allow the MD-11 to land - and sure enough, at about 50 feet (presumably the MD-11's decision height in the excellent weather conditions that day) the nose went up sharply, the power went on and off it went around the circuit. We never did see it land, though, because the next event drew attention from more than those with a little knowledge of aircraft operations. A sleek white metal bird was towed into view towards the gate in front of the lounge.
At this point, almost the entire lounge roused itself and came towards the windows overlooking the gate. Cameras were brought out and many photos taken. Strangers were handed cameras so that couples could appear together in pictures, conversations were started, and the level of bonhomie was immediately lifted. We found that the couple sitting opposite us were from Jacksonville, and had booked their flights (Concorde return) in March for her birthday present - and were very pleased with themselves once the announcement had been made. And so on - tales of why people had made whatever decisions they had, and how they had made their dream come true.
There was also time for some admin - an attempt to get the desk to produce a souvenir pair of boarding passes failed on security grounds: "But when you board, just ask to keep the entire boarding pass." And then it was off to the spa in turns - and when it was my turn, I discovered that this would have been worth the entire effort of getting to the airport early even if there had been no quality service in the lounge.
Shortly after I returned, there was an announcement - the Captain himself, Adrian Thompson, who told us of the flight plan, expected journey time and weather at destination. A few minutes later, it was time to board. This is accomplished directly from the lounge, through glass screen doors with a huge "Concorde" etched into them. There was no need to ask to keep the whole boarding passes - the agent taking the passes said "Ah, you want to keep the whole thing, don't you?" But some things, of course, are the same everywhere in the world - like the queue inside the jetway. Unlike most such queues, though, this was pleasant, friendly and relaxed. Everyone was here to enjoy themselves.
Boarding and departure
When you reach the doorway, you are greeted by a pleasantly-understated mottled grey panel with a silver "Concorde" affixed to it - much as a ship might have her name near the main entranceway. A bright red rose was also placed there as a visual accent. We turned right into the front cabin. The first impression that you get is of a long tube, broken up only by the mid-cabin fittings around the overwing exit. As most of you probably know, Concorde seating is laid out 2+2. She is just a little wider than, say, a Dash-8 or similarly-sized regional jet - but of course much much longer. The seats are about the same size and at about the same pitch as World Traveller Plus (premium economy), although they are comfortably trimmed in blue Connolly leather and ergonomically excellent, to the extent that neither of us even though of reclining our seats throughout either flight, nor did anyone else whom we could see around us. The excitement, and the continuous flow of culinary entertainment, of course had something to do with that as well.
We made our way down to our seats in row 20, at which point the wing takes up a noticeable but relatively small proportion of your field of view. Having deliberately kept our cabin baggage to a minimum, it was able to fit in the overhead locker comfortably, although I would have been struggling if my backpack had been filled to the extent to which it usually is on a long-haul journey. Post-takeoff drinks orders were taken - most people, inevitably, opting for more champagne.
But from some things even Concorde is not immune - when we arrived at row 20, we found a couple sitting in our seats. My usual form of enquiry - "Which seats do you have?" - was answered with the number 22. An eviction proceeded before we sat down.
The announcements were a mixture of the comfortingly familiar BA litany and some special to Concorde. These included, for example, the fact that one of the engines was being started at the gate - it appears that she has no auxiliary power unit, so one engine needs to be started before pushback so that ground power and air conditioning can be disconnected. The safety demonstration was, inevitably, manual (I hardly saw anyone listening to the in-flight audio on either flight, and it is clear that a video system would be completely wasted) - but in very familiar terms. We were rapidly on our way across the field to runway 27R. Just before we reached the hold point, we were given an explanation of what a takeoff would feel like - full power and full reheat during the roll, followed by a noise abatement procedure when much of the power comes off. (The result of this is that soon after takeoff, the aircraft's ascent slows noticeably, and you have a period when it almost feels like you are doing a low-level flight in a fast military jet, particularly as Concorde's liftoff speed is significantly higher than normal aircraft - between 250 and 270 mph.)
The takeoff roll itself is, as the Captain promised, one of the most exciting aspects of civil aviation. You are propelled forwards by the engines, of which you can hear every note from row 20. From there, the sound also comes through the floor because it is near the wheel wells. If one day you were being favoured by a full-power takeoff in a lightly-loaded heavy twin (most unlikely these days), you might get most of this experience but it wouldn't be the same and it wouldn't sound the same. Almost in no time, it seemed, the end of Terminal 1 flashed past and we rotated, putting our nose high into the air. The gear retracted with a number of audible thumps, and then we were really flying.
The cabin service begins
As soon as the crew were up and about, they started serving the after-takeoff drinks. This was done by tray, not by trolley, and each person's glass was swiftly followed by a small dish bearing three canaps. Then that was cleared away, although our glasses were left - and repeatedly refilled by a diligent cabin crew member who kept on walking along the aisle throughout dinner, holding a plastic three-bottle carrier from which he dispensed liberal quantities of champagne, white wine and red wine.
The dinner trays themselves, though, were served from the trolley. The starter was already on it, as were wine glasses, a side plate, a butter pat, real salt and pepper mills, and a napkin neatly folded around the (inevitable) plastic cutlery. Around the napkin was a beautiful aluminium napkin ring, with a cutout Speedmarque (the swoosh device which is the current small BA logo, the successor to the Speedbird and the Speedwing in turn). I have to confess that there was one item I yearned to steal - the napkin rings - and I had to summon up considerable reserves of self-restraint. It would have been so easy, so easy ...
And a jar of caviar sat pristinely and unobtrusively on one side of the tray, with a little "mother-of- pearl" spoon next to it (although I suspect that it was plastic). A bread basket with warm rolls and Melba toast were immediately offered, as was water (both Evian and Highland Spring). It was interesting to see what various people did with their caviar. I had it neat, but our neighbours across the aisle simply tipped it all over the prawns on their starter - perfectly acceptable, just different. My companion, though, is not a huge caviar fan, which came to the rescue of a passenger two rows ahead whose tray had lost its jar somewhere along the line.
After about 10 minutes, the starter plates were cleared away and orders were taken for main courses. We decided to have one each of the guinea fowl and veal. Both were impeccably cooked, my only possible criticism being that I like my meat pink when it can safely be so, and the veal had been cooked through, for at least two obvious reasons that I could think of. It didn't stop either dish being juicy and full of flavour - clearly some care had gone into selecting the raw materials from which these meals were made. My veal had heaps of mushrooms all over it, and the citrus tang of the sauce was a beautiful offset to the deep flavour of the main parts of the dish. The guinea fowl was likewise succulent, and the stuffing was full of flavour even in the reduced cabin pressure.
This was the full dinner menu:-
This was the full wine list with tasting notes:-
The tourists
(Of which we were two.) There were many many photos taken. Immediately before the main dinner service started, the cabin crew made an announcement asking for all of us to stay seated during the meal service. Again, not uncommon on other flights but not what one would normally expect at this level - except for the extraordinary circumstances in which we were all flying. After dinner was over, a steady stream of people went forward to have their photos taken by the displays on the forward bulkhead at row 11. I had noticed comments made elsewhere that if you really wanted to sit in this bulkhead row, you had to put up with the tourists' visits throughout the flight.
One thing I subsequently found was that it is actually quite difficult to get good pictures of the displays, because they are back-lit and relatively dimly so. The shiny surface reflects camera flash straight back at you, and if you avoid that you sometimes just light up the interior workings of the display. My most successful pictures were taken on the return flight when I was closer and decided to take some with the flash turned off. The mutual picture-taking continued up and down the aircraft, and I decided also to go off and take some more arty shots than the usual views, with a little success.
Our neighbours were also an interesting mix. A very young couple sat down in the row immediately in front of us, Mr Head-up-where-the-sun-don't-shine and Miss Blonde Bimbette, who engaged in a large number of PDAs (Public Displays of Affection) throughout the flight - except for the half of it when he was fast asleep to the point of being unwakeable. The wine-carrying cabin crew asked her whether it was his first flight on Concorde, because it would be an awful shame if he managed to sleep his way through it. (Hear, hear!) I subsequently discovered, talking to him later, that it was his third or fourth. He was no doubt some minor film, TV or sport "celebrity", but then I wouldn't recognise the Queen's own son if he was standing in the same theatre queue as me (I did that, once - someone pointed him out to me 45 minutes later).
He wasn't the only sleeper. The lady of the mature couple across the aisle from us (the ones who'd spread their caviar on their prawns) also fell asleep after dinner, and about four rows back from us there was another man who seemed to sleep through most of the flight. Not even I managed that - nor indeed did I want to sleep even one minute of this experience.
The couple immediately behind us were Concorde newbies like us. They were, however, only doing Concorde one way. At the end of the flight, they expressed some disappointment at the experience, saying it was not quite what they thought it would be. I suppose that it is possible to oversell even an experience like this. It is certainly not a display of opulent luxury - for that you have to fly BA First, or a similar service - but for me I have yet to experience anything to beat this combination of power, speed, luxury and sheer excitement.
The last trolley to come round was the duty-frees. However, with so many people on board there was never going to be any chance of everyone's shopping wishes being satisfied. The cabin crew handed out order forms, complete with instructions to write in anything that was in the catalogue but which wasn't pre-printed on the forms - some new items are still being introduced for Concorde's last few weeks. I don't think the trolley ever made it further back than about row 6, and so we await delivery of the stuff that we have asked for.
The cruise, descent and landing
Oh, did I mention that we were flying through the sky? After about 15 minutes, we were over the Bristol Channel and it was time to accelerate through the speed of sound. Concorde likes to cruise fast, and by the time we reached the acceleration point we were already cruising at about Mach 0.95. The Captain came on and explained the procedure - two nudges as the inboard and outboard pairs of reheat were switched back on, followed by a climbing acceleration through Mach 1.00 and onwards to about Mach 1.70 before the reheats were switched off. The nudges are fairly subtle - you could easily miss them, as I did on the return flight. But there is no mistaking the nose up pitch or the fact that the Machmeter starts climbing again. It doesn't take more than a couple of minutes to reach Mach 1.00 - where you feel absolutely nothing - and speed and altitude just continue to increase after that. It takes another 10 or 15 minutes to get to Mach 1.70 and then the reheat is switched off again, in pairs, with a pair of equally subtle un-nudges. Thereafter, the speed is allowed to drift up to Mach 2.00, at which Concorde is happiest cruising.
One of the features of air traffic control for Concorde's cruise compared to normal subsonic aircraft is that because she is literally the only aircraft in that section of the sky, she can be given a block altitude clearance, within which she can fly at whatever suits her. For us, this meant that after Mach 2.00 was reached, at an altitude of about 50,000 feet, she then just drifts upwards as fuel is burned off and she gets lighter. No worries about hitting any aircraft overhead. Eventually, the display showed 56,000 feet by the time for descent, about an hour and 45 minutes after we reached Mach 2.00.
At those speeds, the famous friction effect comes into play. Unlike subsonic aircraft which are literally freezing cold during cruise, Concorde's fuselage heats up because of the friction of the air through which she is passing at such speed - the effect is such that the entire fuselage stretches by about 6 inches because of the temperatures. On the flight deck, there is a famous gap between two instrument panels which opens up (by design) wide enough to put your hand into during cruise, but is closed almost tight when on the ground. Alas, in these post-11 September days there is no opportunity for mere mortals to see that any more.
However, you can feel it for yourself if you put your hand to the inner screen of the window during the cruise, which is noticeably very warm to the touch. The effect is particularly pronounced, of course, if you are sitting on the shady side of the aircraft, and by a quirk of timing the A side of the aircraft where we were sitting was on the shady side in both directions for our trip. The effectiveness of the air conditioning system in the cabins is demonstrated if you go to stand by the overwing exits in the middle of the aircraft, where the toilets are. It is positively roasting in that little section, and the insides of the doors and the acoustic linings around them are also very warm to the touch.
The toilets, by the way, are as tiny as one would expect. The ceiling cuts back very sharply towards the centre of the aircraft, as it follows the line of the narrow fuselage. Tall men, and anyone needing to sit down, will doubtless be in "interesting" positions.
It seemed all too soon when the Captain announced that we would soon be decelerating and descending from our lofty heights. And once the engines are throttled back, it was remarkable just how quickly both speed and altitude were lost. There remained a short period of subsonic cruise to fit in with arriving traffic patterns; even though this was still at Mach 0.95 and 34,000 feet it felt positively pedestrian compared to what we had been doing before. A batch of more routine (and familiar) announcements was made, and then the explanation of the landing. It would be a nose-high attitude, the Captain said, but we should be prepared for the long drop of the nose wheel down to the ground from that angle. Thereafter, reverse thrust would be used and brakes, to stop on JFK's "relatively short" runway (although he never explained, and I never saw, which one that description was being applied to).
None of this quite prepares you for the landing itself. It is again at a much higher speed than normal aircraft - about 190 mph. Consequently, the deceleration is fierce. It compares to nothing so much as the braking of a rollercoaster ride when it is time to stop and disembark - only those forces continue for quite a few seconds longer as there is more speed to kill. Having already thrilled with the takeoff, Concorde keeps this last surprise up her sleeve until the very end.
It was a short taxi in to the terminal, but then a small delay. The Captain was quick to explain that "because we have arrived a few minutes early, our gate is still occupied by a United flight". But fortunately, it was only a matter of 5 minutes, and we were still 5 minutes early when we arrived.
A small slip then followed. There was another 5 minute delay before the doors were opened. Ordinarily, this would not matter, but the temperature at JFK was about 35 degrees and - remember? - Concorde has no APU. Not only did we not have any attention at the front door, nobody connected up any ground power or air. No air conditioning and no ventilation while we waited to be let off meant that in that heat the cabin became very warm very quickly. Never have I seen so many safety cards being simultaneously used to positive effect.
We hung back and let others disembark first, and then said our goodbyes to the crew, especially Maxine who had primarily been responsible for looking after us during the flight. She suggested that we should queue up to have a peek inside the flight deck, and this was starting just as we reached the front. As luck would have it, because we happened to be in exactly the right place at the right time it was convenient for us to have a peer inside first - essentially jumping the queue - where I took two photos. The artier of them is that posted in one of the replies below, which I took for pretty obvious reasons.
Then it was a final goodbye and a walk down to the BA terminal's immigration area, which is now being refurbished and therefore split into two sections. A classic case of miscommunication led to us being directed by BA staff to one half, only to be sent back by the immigration officers there who were trying to close those counters. Ordinarily, it would have been mildly irritating; this time, I couldn't have cared one jot. (I was, to be honest, too busy laughing at Mr Head-up-etc. and Miss Blonde Bimbette being sent back from the immigration desk to fill in their forms, which they just couldn't be bothered to complete beforehand.) The humourless immigration inspector didn't take kindly to my response to his question about the purpose of my trip - "to fly all the way here, and to fly all the way back again on Monday morning" - after all, it wasn't as if he didn't know that we were all off the Concorde. But he wasn't out to cause me any problems, and we were rapidly on our way through to baggage reclaim where our bags (although not everyone's) were already waiting on the carousel because of the time that we'd spent on the aircraft before disembarking.
07.07.03 BA2 JFK-LHR
BAe/Aerospatiale Concorde G-BOAD
Sched 0900-1800
Actual 0856-1751 (3:55)
To the airport, and check-in
There was a short queue of taxis outside the door of our hotel, and no doorman. Good we could simply walk to the first taxi and get in without having a tip extracted for next-to-zero work. The taxi driver was not one of the world's friendliest (well, it was 6.45 am, so maybe I should make allowances). But he was a real gentleman. Up First Avenue, across the 59th Street Bridge (no tolls), around some back streets on the other side and then onto the LIE, which was moving. As were the GCP and the Van Wyck. Maybe I should do these morning flights more often. The upshot of it was that the entire journey ended up well under USD 30 on the meter, which I had always thought was impossible since it became the fixed fare for the trip in the other direction.
The check-in area had three agents working in it, and each had a queue of one waiting party behind the party being served. The man in front of us provided some quiet entertainment. Obviously a business traveller, and obviously a first-time Concorde passenger who knew nothing about the aircraft, he identified the two bags which were to be checked-in, but insisted to the Skycap that his rollaboard was staying with him. Very shortly thereafter, he was disabused of this notion by the check-in agent, which sent him into a blind panic. He didn't know what of all the stuff packed into this bag he could live without for the 5 hours before he would get it back again in London. He dithered about his book, his laptop, a folder full of papers ...
Finally it was our turn. Two boarding passes were printed for our pre-allocated seats, with which we were very happy - 12AB, the second row of the second cabin with a grandstand view of the displays but not quite in Piccadilly Circus. However, they were printed on standard BA stock. So (being me) I asked whether he had any Concorde boarding passes instead. Oh yes, he said, I will print you some souvenir ones in a moment, but these will get torn so you want to look after the others. And it was done. We had the usual baggage screening hassle, waiting for your locked bag to go through the X- ray machine and be cleared before leaving it to go down into the bowels of T7's baggage handling system.
Into the lounge
Then it was through security, via the special Concorde and First Class only security screening point, and into the adjacent Concorde Room. The other lounges are nearer the main security screening point, so everyone else is directed over there. The lounge is much more open in appearance - unlike the Concorde Room in London where there are privacy screens throughout the seating area. To the right as you enter, there is a dining area, looking for all the world like a stylish caf - which is, I suppose, what it is. It was full at the time, but I told one of the staff that we would very much like a table for two when one was available. In about five minutes one did come free, the staff waved at us to come over, and in fact the tables were never quite all full again after that.
Alongside the dining area there was a long window, across which a curtain was drawn. The reason for this soon became clear. America West had a flight departing from gate 1, and passengers had to walk along the corridor just the far side of the window to get to that gate. As soon as the flight was completely boarded, two members of staff drew the curtains with a flourish to reveal the ramp beyond, and Concorde's gate 2 - but with no aircraft. Alas, heightened security has meant that the aircraft is no longer parked at that gate, which meant that there is no longer direct access from the lounge like at LHR or the superlative view which there would have been of the aircraft - or of any aircraft parked at that gate. She is now around the corner and much further away from roadways. Still, the curtains were a considerate touch - I wonder whether they were in the original design or one of those things that got added after passengers complained about people gawping through the window into the most lite lounge at T7.
Champagne was flowing freely. Only Piper-Heidsieck this time, but it made us feel a lot less guilty about asking for mimosas. Breakfast included cereals, fruit salad, smoked salmon with the trimmings, a stand full of muffins, croissants and other "bakery items", and a traditional hot breakfast - rashers of bacon, sausages, scrambled eggs etc. It was very tempting to pile in and stuff one's face, and only the realisation that a good lunch was on its way within a couple of hours kept us back.
Again, the photographs started in the lounge, this time even without the presence of the aircraft. One star passenger in terms of appearance was a middle-aged man travelling on his own, who had a moustache complete with long horizontal waxed ends, looking for all the world like Hercule Poirot, although I have to admit that even my sensitivities restrained me from taking any photos of him. However, without the aircraft in sight, photograph taking was overall rather more restrained in the lounge, although the excitement was equally palpable despite the early hour. There were many people showing signs of travel stress, although presumably of a slightly different kind from normal. People who were psychologically aroused in many ways - who couldn't sit still, who were jumpy, who wanted to see everything that was going on everywhere. It was funniest when the BA178 (the subsonic day flight) was called - lots of people suddenly thought this was their flight to London, and had to think a second time to realise that it wasn't.
Inevitably, when an announcement was made that BA2 would be boarding "shortly", a large number of people started gathering up their belongings and making a beeline for the exit. So much so that a second announcement had to be made to say that this didn't mean that the aircraft was boarding yet, and would passengers please like to take a seat and wait until the actual boarding call. No personal announcements from any of the flight or cabin crew this time, though - only an introduction to their names by the lounge staff on the announcement.
One other sign of a full flight - there were a lot of seating assignments being changed right up to boarding. This was apparent at check-in, because a number of people had been asking for seat changes and been told to listen for announcements in the lounge. It was good to see a lot of effort apparently being made to accommodate these requests, judging by the number of people called to the lounge reception desk. One jarring note about these, though - the calls were terse and abrupt, merely saying "Passenger Smith to the front desk." No "please", no "would passenger Smith come", or any of the usual courtesies one would expect. In many ways, I am glad that I wasn't having to listen out for one of these.
Boarding
Eventually, the time came. The rear cabin was boarded first, but we decided that we should wait for a bit because even 60 passengers could create a bit of a queue in a warm jetway. We leisurely gathered up our few belongings and made our way over, and then discovered that there was a reasonable view of the aircraft through the windows of the terminal. So we spent a few minutes taking photos through the windows, of each other and of some other passengers doing exactly the same thing (on their cameras, of course). By the time we reached the gate, there were only a few passengers left to board, and the agent at the gate knew exactly what we had been up to, making a comment about how much of a pity it was that she was no longer using gate 2 (absolutely true).
We boarded the aircraft, and exchanged some pleasantries with the Cabin Service Director, a cheerful Scotsman who had no difficulty in agreeing that he, also, felt like he was about 12 years old every time he flew on Concorde - and that this was his 280th flight. Being a good Scotsman, he also volunteered that a round number like that needed celebrating and that he would send a glass of champagne down our way later!
We skirted our way around the passengers in the front cabin and found our seats. Our short detour had already resulted in one thing. A vulture had already descended on the window seat and stripped it of everything bar the headset - safety card, High Life, Briefing (the Concorde magazine) and the duty free catalogue. They had had the temerity then to leave the table down in an attempt to disguise this. Absolutely disgusting. At this point, I felt some sympathy with the regular Concorde passengers who complained that the aircraft had turned into a flying holiday camp full of first timers with no class who wrecked the experience for everyone else. Although I think that the vast majority of first timers on board both flights behaved perfectly well, and the only detractions from the "normal" Concorde experience would have been the continuous photography and the full cabin (resulting in the cabin crew having to work hard and having no slack), this was unsubtle, underhand (it would have cast suspicion on us if any cabin crew had noticed - why not steal all the stuff out of his own seat pocket?) and the perpetrator demonstrated that he knew very well that he was being dishonest. I had my suspicions about some people sitting within sight, but of course there was really no point either in making a fuss or in pointing fingers.
Departure and cabin service
We had the departure procedure explained to us again. Most of it was familiar, but the exact flight path was not. Immediately after takeoff on 31L (I think), the reheat would be switched off and then we would make a fairly low tight left turn around Jamaica Bay. The lack of climb was most reminiscent of an A340-300, but of course the power and acceleration in the takeoff roll and the speed at which the manoeuvre is carried out make sure you don't make that mistake. We used the full length of the runway, which involved backtracking all the way to the downwind end on what would be the overrun area for aircraft landing on 13R (presumably). One more subtly impressive, and not well-known feature of Concorde - a tight turning circle which would not disgrace a London taxi. Or maybe it is just that I have been on too many 747s and 777s having to do the same thing, very very gingerly. One thing seen while we were doing the backtrack - BA178 was following us out to the runway. I hope the passengers enjoyed the spectacle.
The wine list was the same as on the outbound. In some ways it was a bit of a disappointment, although I knew that I would not be disappointed with any of the wines being served. The menu, of course was different:-
As on the outbound flight, we also opted for one dessert and one cheese. Although the banana tart could have been cloying, it wasn't - it was every bit as light as the chocolate dessert had been on the way out. When so much food is sold by weight, why is it that premium class passengers get deliciously light confections while economy class passengers are offered stodge which moved from plate to stomach to hips by telekinesis?
One difference in the cabin service this time - the cabin crew were less diligent with coming through the cabin with wine and water. We had to ask at several points for more, and filling up almost every glass on the tray became a regular request. Not that they balked at this, though - I think that they were simply feeling the workload more than the outbound crew were. I don't know whether any of this can be attributed to the fact that the crew literally just overnight after finishing the BA1 the night before (at about 2300 London time) and are then back on board BA2 for a 0900 local time departure the next morning.
There was one other difference - one of the cabin crew was wearing one of the new uniforms. These are designed by Julien Macdonald, one of the UK's trendier fashion designers. About 100 crew throughout the network are trialling these, and it was interesting to have had a sneak preview. It is much more glamorous than the current uniform, which I think dates back to the Landor period and is now looking very tired and frumpy. This was the female uniform, and consists of a white blouse with a scarf tied around the neck with the ends down in front, secured by a ring with a Speedmarque (the BA swoosh) on it. The blouse has subtle vertical piping with no colour change, but the visible texture makes it more interesting than plain white. The short sleeves have little cuff buttons also bearing the Speedmarque. (I suppose the current edition of Utopia is definitely here to stay!) A very dark navy blue skirt complements this. My companion thought that it was a little plain from the back, and more interesting from the front, but when the serving waistcoat (matching the skirt) was put on that brought murmurs of appreciation from both of us. Later we were to find that there is also a long-sleeved jacket and a rather beret-like hat (I'm sure there's a technical term for this, but I'll probably have to wait until the rollout to find out), both in the same colour as the skirt. Very stylish and elegant. I am definitely looking forward to seeing this project when it is complete. In a subtle way, it deliberately avoids the dress-down informal look that pervades too many airline uniforms now - which is exactly how BA should be presenting itself in the market, given its business strategy.
This gave me an opportunity, late in the flight, to talk to her. One interesting anecdote she had to relate - she was flying Concorde on the day of the retirement announcement (Concorde cabin crew are in the short haul fleet so also do European trips). One of her regular Concorde passengers was on board, and he told her that he was very sad - that was his 987th Concorde flight, and although he was quite sure that he would make it over 1,000 by the time of the retirement, every flight from that date on would hold a special memory. A fascinating glimpse into the type of market on which Concorde used to thrive, but also into how special she was even for those who had every opportunity to become bored or jaded by the experience.
Interestingly, there appeared to be fewer attempted purchases from the duty free trolley, so it didn't sell out as fast as on the way out. Whether that was because most buyers were Americans trying to do so on the way home (seems unlikely) or because this was the week that the online purchase site came live, I'm not sure. But we had already placed our orders on the way out so we passed up on the opportunity to be parted from yet more money.
Descent and arrival
This flight only made it up to 55,000 feet (did we all eat too much lunch?). After about an hour and 45 minutes at Mach 2, there was the top-of-descent announcement and the descent commenced. It was quite cloudy, so despite our intentions of waving to Clonakilty's inhabitants we didn't see land until we were already subsonic over the Bristol Channel. We continued at high subsonic speed over southern England, and then when we were at 11,000 feet we commenced a series of turns. A familiar pattern, I thought, and the Captain duly came on to tell us that we were in a hold. In some ways, it is quite comforting that even Concorde is not immune from the congestion at Heathrow. I learnt two more things during this process, though. First, she is permitted to hold at much higher speeds than normal subsonic aircraft - the displays were still on and indicating a speed equivalent I think to about 300 knots.
The other is that the aerodynamics of her delta wings has noticeable effects on her handling. When ordinary aircraft bank and turn at that speed, they just bank and turn. At low speeds, Concorde depends on the formation of vortices along the wing leading edge to create low speed lift - and the rapid changes in air pressure, temperature and dew point within those vortices are what makes them visible so often and so clearly. Whenever we banked into another turn, there was an immediate increase in aerodynamic (not engine) noise accompanied by a little buffeting, as if the extra load on the wings in the bank was enough to start this process. It did make her feel more like flying in a "real" aircraft rather than in a flying bus, which is what all other jet airliners are in comparison.
We had 10 minutes of this - 10 more minutes of flying on Concorde than we had bargained for! - and then were turned out of the stack on our way into Heathrow. I had also been talking with that cabin crew member about the excitement of the landing, and she stopped by both before and after the landing roll to ensure that we enjoyed the experience - of course we did! As we taxied around Heathrow, I could almost feel all the eyes turning to watch us go past - many experiences of watching people inside the terminals when Concorde taxies past demonstrates that this always happens, and indeed when Concorde takes off, all staff who can see out inevitably turn round to watch.
Farewell
As at JFK, ground air was not immediately connected to the aircraft, so even in London's cooler temperatures the aircraft rapidly became quite warm inside. Apart from one lady who had been fretting all the way over from New York about her connection, who had some reason to get up and charge off the aircraft, it was interesting to see a lot of first timers who were also keen to get going as soon as possible. Needless to say, we weren't among them; we lingered until last and said goodbye to all the lovely cabin crew who had been looking after the rear cabin, before going to join the queue for a visit to the flight deck.
This time, we did take our proper turn, which was near the end. Having missed out on our flight certificates on the way over, we made sure that we got a couple from the CSD (who wouldn't in fact have let us go away without them), and then got them signed by the entire flight crew, the CSD, the cabin crew member manning the front door and, eventually, the cabin crew member with the new uniform to whom I'd been chatting earlier.
Then it really was time to go home, us towards immigration, the crew towards the Compass Centre to clock out and then to their homes. We at least had another lingering look at the aircraft - and more photos - from the windows of the arrivals level corridor. And then it was back to the mundane sights of T4's immigration control, baggage reclaim (with some charming Concorde team ground staff on hand to watch the last remaining bags - ours - which had been pulled off the carousel for us so that we didn't have to watch them going around with some subsonic aircraft baggage), and the Heathrow Express. Only we felt like we were still walking on air ... and secure in the knowledge that despite the extra time spent at the aircraft before leaving her, BA178 was still about 2 hours out of London.
Thank you Qantas, thank you BA. Many experiences are sold as once-in-a-lifetime events. Few deserve the hype. A trip on Concorde does, especially at this time. It was truly a treat to have travelled on board the most beautiful object ever to have flown in the sky.
Long-haul flying - how to sleep your way around the world.
BAe/Aerospatiale Concorde G-BOAG
Sched 1830-1725
Actual 1833-1720 (3:47)
To the airport, and check-in
We had not intended it quite like this, but we both arrived at Paddington Station at 2.15 pm, having progressively delayed our rendezvous there in stages for 30 minutes, and not having eaten anything during the day. We just made it onto the 1425 Heathrow Express.
The journey got off to a good and appropriate start because I was able to upgrade both of us to first class. I can sit in first class just by using my BAA WorldCard (branded credit card) to buy a standard class ticket, a perk that few seem to know about and which is worth the hassle that comes with dealing with a single-use credit card. BAA's shopping loyalty scheme WorldPoints is also one of the most inefficient I have ever dealt with. On this occasion, though, this produced a lucky result because last week they sent me, unsolicited, a batch of rewards which duplicated what I ordered 3 months ago for my previous JFK trip - including a pair of upgrade vouchers. Seeing as I had not then decided how to get to the airport for this trip, and later decided independently that we should take the train (largely due to the anticipated consumption of alcohol on the return flight), and not had time in between to think about ordering upgrade vouchers, this was providence indeed.
We duly arrived at T4 just before 3 pm and walked straight ahead (bliss!) from the Heathrow Express lifts to the Concorde/First check-in area. We were surprised to see that this check-in area was quite busy, with a party being dealt with by each agent and another party waiting in each queue. The meeter/greeter directed us to the check-in agent at the far end, who looked like she was just finishing with the person she was dealing with, and so we were seen to quite swiftly. This agent was the only less-than-friendly member of BA staff we dealt with on the whole trip. The check-in procedure was almost routine for a trans-Atlantic flight, save for the elegant silvery-grey Concorde boarding passes which she printed, and for the Concorde luggage tags affixed to our bags. I asked for and was given - cheerlessly - another pair of these tags in case the ones in use were damaged.
The Fast Track security channel (bliss!) was almost clear when we went through. Although my companion's bag caught the screener's eye, so that we had to wait for it to go through the explosives swab-and-sniff test, it didn't take long. But even the security screeners came up with a warm and sincere "Enjoy your flight!" when they saw the very distinctive boarding passes. It seemed like everyone was determined to make our day special - which, of course, it was.
The Concorde Room and the Molton Brown spa
The Concorde Room is on the "ground" (entry level) floor of the British Airways Lounge Pavilion. Of course, this is a very familiar spot because (in true British style) I'm normally either upstairs (in the Terraces lounge) or downstairs (having a shower in the Molton Brown spa, which shares the same level as the First lounge). This time we didn't have to go up or down to start enjoying ourselves, although we paused only for long enough to drop my rucksack in the luggage store before actually going to the spa to book some treatments. It was quite a busy afternoon, but there were two slots still available. One at 5 pm and one at 5.30 pm - but, the receptionist explained, they could only do a limited number of back massages for health and safety reasons (loads on the therapists' hands). My companion wanted a back massage (and deserved one after all the hard work she had done in the morning) so she took that appointment and I booked myself in for a facial (my first ever "beauty treatment") at 5.30 pm. All the treatments are 20 minutes in length.
Having secured our slots for this treat, we returned upstairs and ordered lunch. I'm not entirely sure that the Concorde Room menu is intended to provide a full lunch, but as you can imagine we were both absolutely starving. We ordered chicken soup, an Oriental prawn salad (dressed with a sweet chilli dressing) and a Mediterranean garden salad (full of sun-dried tomatoes, olives and green beans), and a plate of cheese (four different types, including Stilton, Wensleydale, double Gloucester and smoked applewood). Accompanying this was an ample supply of Pommery Cuve Louise 1989, which was repeatedly brought around the lounge so that you didn't even have to return to the bar to get a refill. Just as we were diving into the cheese, and with impeccable timing, the strawberries- and-cream trolley was brought around and we secured a couple of bowls of them. How were we going to fit any dinner in after that?
In the middle of all of this sybaritic pleasure, there were two noteworthy aircraft-related events. One was the sight of an Eva Air Cargo MD-11 tailgating some hapless 737 down to runway 27L, the touchdown point for which is just by T4. When I first saw this pair, I immediately remarked on the likelihood (or lack of it) of the 737 clearing the runway fast enough to allow the MD-11 to land - and sure enough, at about 50 feet (presumably the MD-11's decision height in the excellent weather conditions that day) the nose went up sharply, the power went on and off it went around the circuit. We never did see it land, though, because the next event drew attention from more than those with a little knowledge of aircraft operations. A sleek white metal bird was towed into view towards the gate in front of the lounge.
At this point, almost the entire lounge roused itself and came towards the windows overlooking the gate. Cameras were brought out and many photos taken. Strangers were handed cameras so that couples could appear together in pictures, conversations were started, and the level of bonhomie was immediately lifted. We found that the couple sitting opposite us were from Jacksonville, and had booked their flights (Concorde return) in March for her birthday present - and were very pleased with themselves once the announcement had been made. And so on - tales of why people had made whatever decisions they had, and how they had made their dream come true.
There was also time for some admin - an attempt to get the desk to produce a souvenir pair of boarding passes failed on security grounds: "But when you board, just ask to keep the entire boarding pass." And then it was off to the spa in turns - and when it was my turn, I discovered that this would have been worth the entire effort of getting to the airport early even if there had been no quality service in the lounge.
Shortly after I returned, there was an announcement - the Captain himself, Adrian Thompson, who told us of the flight plan, expected journey time and weather at destination. A few minutes later, it was time to board. This is accomplished directly from the lounge, through glass screen doors with a huge "Concorde" etched into them. There was no need to ask to keep the whole boarding passes - the agent taking the passes said "Ah, you want to keep the whole thing, don't you?" But some things, of course, are the same everywhere in the world - like the queue inside the jetway. Unlike most such queues, though, this was pleasant, friendly and relaxed. Everyone was here to enjoy themselves.
Boarding and departure
When you reach the doorway, you are greeted by a pleasantly-understated mottled grey panel with a silver "Concorde" affixed to it - much as a ship might have her name near the main entranceway. A bright red rose was also placed there as a visual accent. We turned right into the front cabin. The first impression that you get is of a long tube, broken up only by the mid-cabin fittings around the overwing exit. As most of you probably know, Concorde seating is laid out 2+2. She is just a little wider than, say, a Dash-8 or similarly-sized regional jet - but of course much much longer. The seats are about the same size and at about the same pitch as World Traveller Plus (premium economy), although they are comfortably trimmed in blue Connolly leather and ergonomically excellent, to the extent that neither of us even though of reclining our seats throughout either flight, nor did anyone else whom we could see around us. The excitement, and the continuous flow of culinary entertainment, of course had something to do with that as well.
We made our way down to our seats in row 20, at which point the wing takes up a noticeable but relatively small proportion of your field of view. Having deliberately kept our cabin baggage to a minimum, it was able to fit in the overhead locker comfortably, although I would have been struggling if my backpack had been filled to the extent to which it usually is on a long-haul journey. Post-takeoff drinks orders were taken - most people, inevitably, opting for more champagne.
But from some things even Concorde is not immune - when we arrived at row 20, we found a couple sitting in our seats. My usual form of enquiry - "Which seats do you have?" - was answered with the number 22. An eviction proceeded before we sat down.
The announcements were a mixture of the comfortingly familiar BA litany and some special to Concorde. These included, for example, the fact that one of the engines was being started at the gate - it appears that she has no auxiliary power unit, so one engine needs to be started before pushback so that ground power and air conditioning can be disconnected. The safety demonstration was, inevitably, manual (I hardly saw anyone listening to the in-flight audio on either flight, and it is clear that a video system would be completely wasted) - but in very familiar terms. We were rapidly on our way across the field to runway 27R. Just before we reached the hold point, we were given an explanation of what a takeoff would feel like - full power and full reheat during the roll, followed by a noise abatement procedure when much of the power comes off. (The result of this is that soon after takeoff, the aircraft's ascent slows noticeably, and you have a period when it almost feels like you are doing a low-level flight in a fast military jet, particularly as Concorde's liftoff speed is significantly higher than normal aircraft - between 250 and 270 mph.)
The takeoff roll itself is, as the Captain promised, one of the most exciting aspects of civil aviation. You are propelled forwards by the engines, of which you can hear every note from row 20. From there, the sound also comes through the floor because it is near the wheel wells. If one day you were being favoured by a full-power takeoff in a lightly-loaded heavy twin (most unlikely these days), you might get most of this experience but it wouldn't be the same and it wouldn't sound the same. Almost in no time, it seemed, the end of Terminal 1 flashed past and we rotated, putting our nose high into the air. The gear retracted with a number of audible thumps, and then we were really flying.
The cabin service begins
As soon as the crew were up and about, they started serving the after-takeoff drinks. This was done by tray, not by trolley, and each person's glass was swiftly followed by a small dish bearing three canaps. Then that was cleared away, although our glasses were left - and repeatedly refilled by a diligent cabin crew member who kept on walking along the aisle throughout dinner, holding a plastic three-bottle carrier from which he dispensed liberal quantities of champagne, white wine and red wine.
The dinner trays themselves, though, were served from the trolley. The starter was already on it, as were wine glasses, a side plate, a butter pat, real salt and pepper mills, and a napkin neatly folded around the (inevitable) plastic cutlery. Around the napkin was a beautiful aluminium napkin ring, with a cutout Speedmarque (the swoosh device which is the current small BA logo, the successor to the Speedbird and the Speedwing in turn). I have to confess that there was one item I yearned to steal - the napkin rings - and I had to summon up considerable reserves of self-restraint. It would have been so easy, so easy ...
And a jar of caviar sat pristinely and unobtrusively on one side of the tray, with a little "mother-of- pearl" spoon next to it (although I suspect that it was plastic). A bread basket with warm rolls and Melba toast were immediately offered, as was water (both Evian and Highland Spring). It was interesting to see what various people did with their caviar. I had it neat, but our neighbours across the aisle simply tipped it all over the prawns on their starter - perfectly acceptable, just different. My companion, though, is not a huge caviar fan, which came to the rescue of a passenger two rows ahead whose tray had lost its jar somewhere along the line.
After about 10 minutes, the starter plates were cleared away and orders were taken for main courses. We decided to have one each of the guinea fowl and veal. Both were impeccably cooked, my only possible criticism being that I like my meat pink when it can safely be so, and the veal had been cooked through, for at least two obvious reasons that I could think of. It didn't stop either dish being juicy and full of flavour - clearly some care had gone into selecting the raw materials from which these meals were made. My veal had heaps of mushrooms all over it, and the citrus tang of the sauce was a beautiful offset to the deep flavour of the main parts of the dish. The guinea fowl was likewise succulent, and the stuffing was full of flavour even in the reduced cabin pressure.
This was the full dinner menu:-
Quote:Like BOAG before me, I had to try every wine on offer. The champagne was a rich and slightly oaky wine with lots of chardonnay in it, very different from the everyday champagne that I normally drink. (I exaggerate for effect, but you know what I mean.) The white was relatively restrained in comparison; I notice the tasting notes in the menu but I suspect that they might have more force when the wine is drunk at sea level pressure. The red was wonderful - silky smooth and absolutely ready to drink despite its relative youth, but as impressive as a wine of that year ought to be.
Dinner
Canaps
Appetiser
Fresh prawn nioise
Entres
Roast guinea fowl and truffle stuffing, with cep reduction and fondante potato
Lobster fish cakes with a light shellfish sauce
Grilled fillet of veal black pepper and lemon butter, saut mushroom mix, roasted sea salt potatoes
Grilled artichoke, plum tomatoes, buffalo Mozzarella on mixed leaves with balsamic dressing
Dessert
Chocolate silk on a nut brittle base with chocolate sauce
OR
Cheese
Old Pequlier, Musulline goats cheese, unpasteurised Dunshyre Blue
Selection of bread rolls
Coffee, decaffeinated coffee, a selection of tea with chocolates
As an alternative to the full menu, we are pleased to offer a selection of freshly made sandwiches including smoked salmon and cucumber on wholemeal bread, shaved pastrami and American mustard on wholemeal bread, Chicken salad on malted bread
This was the full wine list with tasting notes:-
Quote:When we had finished the main courses, they were cleared away into a trolley - although such of our wine glasses as we wanted to keep stayed with us and continued to be topped up. Another trolley then came with dessert and cheese. Again, we had one of each, although my cheese plate was unaccountably missing the goat's cheese - which fortunately presented no problem because I'm not terribly fond of it. Port was also issued and coffee poured. Not being a great chocolate fan, I sampled the dessert with some diffidence, but it was much lighter and fluffier than it looked and was an excellent finish to the meal.
Today's Selection
Champagne
Jacquart 1988
Cuve Nomine de Jacquart
La Cuve Nomine is the top wine from Jacquart. It is only made in exceptional vintages and only with grapes taken from the best vineyard plots in the Grand Cru villages. A delightful pale gold colour with honeyed, buttery aromas, this classic vintage champagne has fresh, lively apple fruit with honeyed, bready flavours and a lingering aftertaste.
White Wine
Chablis Grand Cru Bougros 1997
Jean-Marc Brocard
Bougros is the northern most of the seven tiny vineyards that comprise the Grand Crus of Chablis. It is sometimes accused of lacking the finesse of some of the others but it more than makes up for this with its power and elegance. Jean-Marc Brocard never uses oak in his winemaking and this helps focus on the purity of the cool climate fruit. It is rich and concentrated but balanced by a vibrant, firm, acidity that leaves a lingering, refreshingly dry finish.
Red Wine
Chateau de Fieuzal, 1996
Grand Cru Class, Graves
The Graves is the cradle of Bordeaux and the elegant Chateau de Fieuzal stands just a kilometre out of Lognan, right in the heart of the region. Its vineyards are planted to the classic Bordeaux blend, the highest proportion being Cabernet Sauvignon, followed by Merlot and even some Petit Verdot. The chateau also makes a superb white wine but regrettably in very small volumes.
The 1996 red has a very deep and dense colour and a generous ripe fruit bouquet. This is a big wine with a firm tannic structure balanced by impressive layers of concentrated black fruit flavours.
Port
Warre's 1982 Colheita Port
Warre's 1982 Colheita is a blend of the very highest quality wines from the 1982 harvest, using traditional Portuguese grape varieties and a centuries old method of vinification. Colheita ports must be matured in wood for a minimum of seven years - in practice it is usually much longer.
The wine has a fine amber tawny colour. On the nose it has complex and intense aromas of orange peel, walnuts and almonds. The flavour is deliciously sweet, smooth and elegant with a long and lingering finish.
The tourists
(Of which we were two.) There were many many photos taken. Immediately before the main dinner service started, the cabin crew made an announcement asking for all of us to stay seated during the meal service. Again, not uncommon on other flights but not what one would normally expect at this level - except for the extraordinary circumstances in which we were all flying. After dinner was over, a steady stream of people went forward to have their photos taken by the displays on the forward bulkhead at row 11. I had noticed comments made elsewhere that if you really wanted to sit in this bulkhead row, you had to put up with the tourists' visits throughout the flight.
One thing I subsequently found was that it is actually quite difficult to get good pictures of the displays, because they are back-lit and relatively dimly so. The shiny surface reflects camera flash straight back at you, and if you avoid that you sometimes just light up the interior workings of the display. My most successful pictures were taken on the return flight when I was closer and decided to take some with the flash turned off. The mutual picture-taking continued up and down the aircraft, and I decided also to go off and take some more arty shots than the usual views, with a little success.
Our neighbours were also an interesting mix. A very young couple sat down in the row immediately in front of us, Mr Head-up-where-the-sun-don't-shine and Miss Blonde Bimbette, who engaged in a large number of PDAs (Public Displays of Affection) throughout the flight - except for the half of it when he was fast asleep to the point of being unwakeable. The wine-carrying cabin crew asked her whether it was his first flight on Concorde, because it would be an awful shame if he managed to sleep his way through it. (Hear, hear!) I subsequently discovered, talking to him later, that it was his third or fourth. He was no doubt some minor film, TV or sport "celebrity", but then I wouldn't recognise the Queen's own son if he was standing in the same theatre queue as me (I did that, once - someone pointed him out to me 45 minutes later).
He wasn't the only sleeper. The lady of the mature couple across the aisle from us (the ones who'd spread their caviar on their prawns) also fell asleep after dinner, and about four rows back from us there was another man who seemed to sleep through most of the flight. Not even I managed that - nor indeed did I want to sleep even one minute of this experience.
The couple immediately behind us were Concorde newbies like us. They were, however, only doing Concorde one way. At the end of the flight, they expressed some disappointment at the experience, saying it was not quite what they thought it would be. I suppose that it is possible to oversell even an experience like this. It is certainly not a display of opulent luxury - for that you have to fly BA First, or a similar service - but for me I have yet to experience anything to beat this combination of power, speed, luxury and sheer excitement.
The last trolley to come round was the duty-frees. However, with so many people on board there was never going to be any chance of everyone's shopping wishes being satisfied. The cabin crew handed out order forms, complete with instructions to write in anything that was in the catalogue but which wasn't pre-printed on the forms - some new items are still being introduced for Concorde's last few weeks. I don't think the trolley ever made it further back than about row 6, and so we await delivery of the stuff that we have asked for.
The cruise, descent and landing
Oh, did I mention that we were flying through the sky? After about 15 minutes, we were over the Bristol Channel and it was time to accelerate through the speed of sound. Concorde likes to cruise fast, and by the time we reached the acceleration point we were already cruising at about Mach 0.95. The Captain came on and explained the procedure - two nudges as the inboard and outboard pairs of reheat were switched back on, followed by a climbing acceleration through Mach 1.00 and onwards to about Mach 1.70 before the reheats were switched off. The nudges are fairly subtle - you could easily miss them, as I did on the return flight. But there is no mistaking the nose up pitch or the fact that the Machmeter starts climbing again. It doesn't take more than a couple of minutes to reach Mach 1.00 - where you feel absolutely nothing - and speed and altitude just continue to increase after that. It takes another 10 or 15 minutes to get to Mach 1.70 and then the reheat is switched off again, in pairs, with a pair of equally subtle un-nudges. Thereafter, the speed is allowed to drift up to Mach 2.00, at which Concorde is happiest cruising.
One of the features of air traffic control for Concorde's cruise compared to normal subsonic aircraft is that because she is literally the only aircraft in that section of the sky, she can be given a block altitude clearance, within which she can fly at whatever suits her. For us, this meant that after Mach 2.00 was reached, at an altitude of about 50,000 feet, she then just drifts upwards as fuel is burned off and she gets lighter. No worries about hitting any aircraft overhead. Eventually, the display showed 56,000 feet by the time for descent, about an hour and 45 minutes after we reached Mach 2.00.
At those speeds, the famous friction effect comes into play. Unlike subsonic aircraft which are literally freezing cold during cruise, Concorde's fuselage heats up because of the friction of the air through which she is passing at such speed - the effect is such that the entire fuselage stretches by about 6 inches because of the temperatures. On the flight deck, there is a famous gap between two instrument panels which opens up (by design) wide enough to put your hand into during cruise, but is closed almost tight when on the ground. Alas, in these post-11 September days there is no opportunity for mere mortals to see that any more.
However, you can feel it for yourself if you put your hand to the inner screen of the window during the cruise, which is noticeably very warm to the touch. The effect is particularly pronounced, of course, if you are sitting on the shady side of the aircraft, and by a quirk of timing the A side of the aircraft where we were sitting was on the shady side in both directions for our trip. The effectiveness of the air conditioning system in the cabins is demonstrated if you go to stand by the overwing exits in the middle of the aircraft, where the toilets are. It is positively roasting in that little section, and the insides of the doors and the acoustic linings around them are also very warm to the touch.
The toilets, by the way, are as tiny as one would expect. The ceiling cuts back very sharply towards the centre of the aircraft, as it follows the line of the narrow fuselage. Tall men, and anyone needing to sit down, will doubtless be in "interesting" positions.
It seemed all too soon when the Captain announced that we would soon be decelerating and descending from our lofty heights. And once the engines are throttled back, it was remarkable just how quickly both speed and altitude were lost. There remained a short period of subsonic cruise to fit in with arriving traffic patterns; even though this was still at Mach 0.95 and 34,000 feet it felt positively pedestrian compared to what we had been doing before. A batch of more routine (and familiar) announcements was made, and then the explanation of the landing. It would be a nose-high attitude, the Captain said, but we should be prepared for the long drop of the nose wheel down to the ground from that angle. Thereafter, reverse thrust would be used and brakes, to stop on JFK's "relatively short" runway (although he never explained, and I never saw, which one that description was being applied to).
None of this quite prepares you for the landing itself. It is again at a much higher speed than normal aircraft - about 190 mph. Consequently, the deceleration is fierce. It compares to nothing so much as the braking of a rollercoaster ride when it is time to stop and disembark - only those forces continue for quite a few seconds longer as there is more speed to kill. Having already thrilled with the takeoff, Concorde keeps this last surprise up her sleeve until the very end.
It was a short taxi in to the terminal, but then a small delay. The Captain was quick to explain that "because we have arrived a few minutes early, our gate is still occupied by a United flight". But fortunately, it was only a matter of 5 minutes, and we were still 5 minutes early when we arrived.
A small slip then followed. There was another 5 minute delay before the doors were opened. Ordinarily, this would not matter, but the temperature at JFK was about 35 degrees and - remember? - Concorde has no APU. Not only did we not have any attention at the front door, nobody connected up any ground power or air. No air conditioning and no ventilation while we waited to be let off meant that in that heat the cabin became very warm very quickly. Never have I seen so many safety cards being simultaneously used to positive effect.
We hung back and let others disembark first, and then said our goodbyes to the crew, especially Maxine who had primarily been responsible for looking after us during the flight. She suggested that we should queue up to have a peek inside the flight deck, and this was starting just as we reached the front. As luck would have it, because we happened to be in exactly the right place at the right time it was convenient for us to have a peer inside first - essentially jumping the queue - where I took two photos. The artier of them is that posted in one of the replies below, which I took for pretty obvious reasons.
Then it was a final goodbye and a walk down to the BA terminal's immigration area, which is now being refurbished and therefore split into two sections. A classic case of miscommunication led to us being directed by BA staff to one half, only to be sent back by the immigration officers there who were trying to close those counters. Ordinarily, it would have been mildly irritating; this time, I couldn't have cared one jot. (I was, to be honest, too busy laughing at Mr Head-up-etc. and Miss Blonde Bimbette being sent back from the immigration desk to fill in their forms, which they just couldn't be bothered to complete beforehand.) The humourless immigration inspector didn't take kindly to my response to his question about the purpose of my trip - "to fly all the way here, and to fly all the way back again on Monday morning" - after all, it wasn't as if he didn't know that we were all off the Concorde. But he wasn't out to cause me any problems, and we were rapidly on our way through to baggage reclaim where our bags (although not everyone's) were already waiting on the carousel because of the time that we'd spent on the aircraft before disembarking.
07.07.03 BA2 JFK-LHR
BAe/Aerospatiale Concorde G-BOAD
Sched 0900-1800
Actual 0856-1751 (3:55)
To the airport, and check-in
There was a short queue of taxis outside the door of our hotel, and no doorman. Good we could simply walk to the first taxi and get in without having a tip extracted for next-to-zero work. The taxi driver was not one of the world's friendliest (well, it was 6.45 am, so maybe I should make allowances). But he was a real gentleman. Up First Avenue, across the 59th Street Bridge (no tolls), around some back streets on the other side and then onto the LIE, which was moving. As were the GCP and the Van Wyck. Maybe I should do these morning flights more often. The upshot of it was that the entire journey ended up well under USD 30 on the meter, which I had always thought was impossible since it became the fixed fare for the trip in the other direction.
The check-in area had three agents working in it, and each had a queue of one waiting party behind the party being served. The man in front of us provided some quiet entertainment. Obviously a business traveller, and obviously a first-time Concorde passenger who knew nothing about the aircraft, he identified the two bags which were to be checked-in, but insisted to the Skycap that his rollaboard was staying with him. Very shortly thereafter, he was disabused of this notion by the check-in agent, which sent him into a blind panic. He didn't know what of all the stuff packed into this bag he could live without for the 5 hours before he would get it back again in London. He dithered about his book, his laptop, a folder full of papers ...
Finally it was our turn. Two boarding passes were printed for our pre-allocated seats, with which we were very happy - 12AB, the second row of the second cabin with a grandstand view of the displays but not quite in Piccadilly Circus. However, they were printed on standard BA stock. So (being me) I asked whether he had any Concorde boarding passes instead. Oh yes, he said, I will print you some souvenir ones in a moment, but these will get torn so you want to look after the others. And it was done. We had the usual baggage screening hassle, waiting for your locked bag to go through the X- ray machine and be cleared before leaving it to go down into the bowels of T7's baggage handling system.
Into the lounge
Then it was through security, via the special Concorde and First Class only security screening point, and into the adjacent Concorde Room. The other lounges are nearer the main security screening point, so everyone else is directed over there. The lounge is much more open in appearance - unlike the Concorde Room in London where there are privacy screens throughout the seating area. To the right as you enter, there is a dining area, looking for all the world like a stylish caf - which is, I suppose, what it is. It was full at the time, but I told one of the staff that we would very much like a table for two when one was available. In about five minutes one did come free, the staff waved at us to come over, and in fact the tables were never quite all full again after that.
Alongside the dining area there was a long window, across which a curtain was drawn. The reason for this soon became clear. America West had a flight departing from gate 1, and passengers had to walk along the corridor just the far side of the window to get to that gate. As soon as the flight was completely boarded, two members of staff drew the curtains with a flourish to reveal the ramp beyond, and Concorde's gate 2 - but with no aircraft. Alas, heightened security has meant that the aircraft is no longer parked at that gate, which meant that there is no longer direct access from the lounge like at LHR or the superlative view which there would have been of the aircraft - or of any aircraft parked at that gate. She is now around the corner and much further away from roadways. Still, the curtains were a considerate touch - I wonder whether they were in the original design or one of those things that got added after passengers complained about people gawping through the window into the most lite lounge at T7.
Champagne was flowing freely. Only Piper-Heidsieck this time, but it made us feel a lot less guilty about asking for mimosas. Breakfast included cereals, fruit salad, smoked salmon with the trimmings, a stand full of muffins, croissants and other "bakery items", and a traditional hot breakfast - rashers of bacon, sausages, scrambled eggs etc. It was very tempting to pile in and stuff one's face, and only the realisation that a good lunch was on its way within a couple of hours kept us back.
Again, the photographs started in the lounge, this time even without the presence of the aircraft. One star passenger in terms of appearance was a middle-aged man travelling on his own, who had a moustache complete with long horizontal waxed ends, looking for all the world like Hercule Poirot, although I have to admit that even my sensitivities restrained me from taking any photos of him. However, without the aircraft in sight, photograph taking was overall rather more restrained in the lounge, although the excitement was equally palpable despite the early hour. There were many people showing signs of travel stress, although presumably of a slightly different kind from normal. People who were psychologically aroused in many ways - who couldn't sit still, who were jumpy, who wanted to see everything that was going on everywhere. It was funniest when the BA178 (the subsonic day flight) was called - lots of people suddenly thought this was their flight to London, and had to think a second time to realise that it wasn't.
Inevitably, when an announcement was made that BA2 would be boarding "shortly", a large number of people started gathering up their belongings and making a beeline for the exit. So much so that a second announcement had to be made to say that this didn't mean that the aircraft was boarding yet, and would passengers please like to take a seat and wait until the actual boarding call. No personal announcements from any of the flight or cabin crew this time, though - only an introduction to their names by the lounge staff on the announcement.
One other sign of a full flight - there were a lot of seating assignments being changed right up to boarding. This was apparent at check-in, because a number of people had been asking for seat changes and been told to listen for announcements in the lounge. It was good to see a lot of effort apparently being made to accommodate these requests, judging by the number of people called to the lounge reception desk. One jarring note about these, though - the calls were terse and abrupt, merely saying "Passenger Smith to the front desk." No "please", no "would passenger Smith come", or any of the usual courtesies one would expect. In many ways, I am glad that I wasn't having to listen out for one of these.
Boarding
Eventually, the time came. The rear cabin was boarded first, but we decided that we should wait for a bit because even 60 passengers could create a bit of a queue in a warm jetway. We leisurely gathered up our few belongings and made our way over, and then discovered that there was a reasonable view of the aircraft through the windows of the terminal. So we spent a few minutes taking photos through the windows, of each other and of some other passengers doing exactly the same thing (on their cameras, of course). By the time we reached the gate, there were only a few passengers left to board, and the agent at the gate knew exactly what we had been up to, making a comment about how much of a pity it was that she was no longer using gate 2 (absolutely true).
We boarded the aircraft, and exchanged some pleasantries with the Cabin Service Director, a cheerful Scotsman who had no difficulty in agreeing that he, also, felt like he was about 12 years old every time he flew on Concorde - and that this was his 280th flight. Being a good Scotsman, he also volunteered that a round number like that needed celebrating and that he would send a glass of champagne down our way later!
We skirted our way around the passengers in the front cabin and found our seats. Our short detour had already resulted in one thing. A vulture had already descended on the window seat and stripped it of everything bar the headset - safety card, High Life, Briefing (the Concorde magazine) and the duty free catalogue. They had had the temerity then to leave the table down in an attempt to disguise this. Absolutely disgusting. At this point, I felt some sympathy with the regular Concorde passengers who complained that the aircraft had turned into a flying holiday camp full of first timers with no class who wrecked the experience for everyone else. Although I think that the vast majority of first timers on board both flights behaved perfectly well, and the only detractions from the "normal" Concorde experience would have been the continuous photography and the full cabin (resulting in the cabin crew having to work hard and having no slack), this was unsubtle, underhand (it would have cast suspicion on us if any cabin crew had noticed - why not steal all the stuff out of his own seat pocket?) and the perpetrator demonstrated that he knew very well that he was being dishonest. I had my suspicions about some people sitting within sight, but of course there was really no point either in making a fuss or in pointing fingers.
Departure and cabin service
We had the departure procedure explained to us again. Most of it was familiar, but the exact flight path was not. Immediately after takeoff on 31L (I think), the reheat would be switched off and then we would make a fairly low tight left turn around Jamaica Bay. The lack of climb was most reminiscent of an A340-300, but of course the power and acceleration in the takeoff roll and the speed at which the manoeuvre is carried out make sure you don't make that mistake. We used the full length of the runway, which involved backtracking all the way to the downwind end on what would be the overrun area for aircraft landing on 13R (presumably). One more subtly impressive, and not well-known feature of Concorde - a tight turning circle which would not disgrace a London taxi. Or maybe it is just that I have been on too many 747s and 777s having to do the same thing, very very gingerly. One thing seen while we were doing the backtrack - BA178 was following us out to the runway. I hope the passengers enjoyed the spectacle.
The wine list was the same as on the outbound. In some ways it was a bit of a disappointment, although I knew that I would not be disappointed with any of the wines being served. The menu, of course was different:-
Quote:Again, in some ways it is a disappointment that they include a full English breakfast, because although breakfasts can be good, they can only get so good even at their best. Gourmet, or attempted gourmet, food, though can reach dizzier heights. So there were in effect only two lunch choices for meat eaters, plus the vegetarian option. However, these were small quibbles. We both went for the lamb, which was moist, succulent - and still pink in the middle! Woo hoo! It also came wrapped with a green leaf of some sort (cabbage?), and the crust was a topping on the meat. Overall, a very attractively-presented dish, more so than the main courses on the outbound flight. Before that, there were canaps with the first glass of champagne of course, and the salmon starter was a substantial tranche topped not only with the advertised crme frache but also a substantial teaspoonful of caviar.
Brunch
Appetiser
Ballontine of salmon with crme frache
Entres
English breakfast featuring back bacon, scrambled eggs, pork sausage, tomato and mushroom
Lamb fillet with mustard and herb crust, spinach and sea salt roasted new potatoes
Grilled sea bass with caviar cream sauce, Swiss chard and wild rice
Oriental style vegetable and noodle salad with chilli and ginger dressing
Dessert
Banana tart
OR
Cheese
Stilton, Chevre and Pont L'Eveque
Selection of bread rolls
Coffee, decaffeinated coffee, a selection of tea with chocolates
As an alternative to the full menu, we are pleased to offer a selection of freshly made sandwiches including ham and cheese, egg and bacon, rocket with goats cheese
As on the outbound flight, we also opted for one dessert and one cheese. Although the banana tart could have been cloying, it wasn't - it was every bit as light as the chocolate dessert had been on the way out. When so much food is sold by weight, why is it that premium class passengers get deliciously light confections while economy class passengers are offered stodge which moved from plate to stomach to hips by telekinesis?
One difference in the cabin service this time - the cabin crew were less diligent with coming through the cabin with wine and water. We had to ask at several points for more, and filling up almost every glass on the tray became a regular request. Not that they balked at this, though - I think that they were simply feeling the workload more than the outbound crew were. I don't know whether any of this can be attributed to the fact that the crew literally just overnight after finishing the BA1 the night before (at about 2300 London time) and are then back on board BA2 for a 0900 local time departure the next morning.
There was one other difference - one of the cabin crew was wearing one of the new uniforms. These are designed by Julien Macdonald, one of the UK's trendier fashion designers. About 100 crew throughout the network are trialling these, and it was interesting to have had a sneak preview. It is much more glamorous than the current uniform, which I think dates back to the Landor period and is now looking very tired and frumpy. This was the female uniform, and consists of a white blouse with a scarf tied around the neck with the ends down in front, secured by a ring with a Speedmarque (the BA swoosh) on it. The blouse has subtle vertical piping with no colour change, but the visible texture makes it more interesting than plain white. The short sleeves have little cuff buttons also bearing the Speedmarque. (I suppose the current edition of Utopia is definitely here to stay!) A very dark navy blue skirt complements this. My companion thought that it was a little plain from the back, and more interesting from the front, but when the serving waistcoat (matching the skirt) was put on that brought murmurs of appreciation from both of us. Later we were to find that there is also a long-sleeved jacket and a rather beret-like hat (I'm sure there's a technical term for this, but I'll probably have to wait until the rollout to find out), both in the same colour as the skirt. Very stylish and elegant. I am definitely looking forward to seeing this project when it is complete. In a subtle way, it deliberately avoids the dress-down informal look that pervades too many airline uniforms now - which is exactly how BA should be presenting itself in the market, given its business strategy.
This gave me an opportunity, late in the flight, to talk to her. One interesting anecdote she had to relate - she was flying Concorde on the day of the retirement announcement (Concorde cabin crew are in the short haul fleet so also do European trips). One of her regular Concorde passengers was on board, and he told her that he was very sad - that was his 987th Concorde flight, and although he was quite sure that he would make it over 1,000 by the time of the retirement, every flight from that date on would hold a special memory. A fascinating glimpse into the type of market on which Concorde used to thrive, but also into how special she was even for those who had every opportunity to become bored or jaded by the experience.
Interestingly, there appeared to be fewer attempted purchases from the duty free trolley, so it didn't sell out as fast as on the way out. Whether that was because most buyers were Americans trying to do so on the way home (seems unlikely) or because this was the week that the online purchase site came live, I'm not sure. But we had already placed our orders on the way out so we passed up on the opportunity to be parted from yet more money.
Descent and arrival
This flight only made it up to 55,000 feet (did we all eat too much lunch?). After about an hour and 45 minutes at Mach 2, there was the top-of-descent announcement and the descent commenced. It was quite cloudy, so despite our intentions of waving to Clonakilty's inhabitants we didn't see land until we were already subsonic over the Bristol Channel. We continued at high subsonic speed over southern England, and then when we were at 11,000 feet we commenced a series of turns. A familiar pattern, I thought, and the Captain duly came on to tell us that we were in a hold. In some ways, it is quite comforting that even Concorde is not immune from the congestion at Heathrow. I learnt two more things during this process, though. First, she is permitted to hold at much higher speeds than normal subsonic aircraft - the displays were still on and indicating a speed equivalent I think to about 300 knots.
The other is that the aerodynamics of her delta wings has noticeable effects on her handling. When ordinary aircraft bank and turn at that speed, they just bank and turn. At low speeds, Concorde depends on the formation of vortices along the wing leading edge to create low speed lift - and the rapid changes in air pressure, temperature and dew point within those vortices are what makes them visible so often and so clearly. Whenever we banked into another turn, there was an immediate increase in aerodynamic (not engine) noise accompanied by a little buffeting, as if the extra load on the wings in the bank was enough to start this process. It did make her feel more like flying in a "real" aircraft rather than in a flying bus, which is what all other jet airliners are in comparison.
We had 10 minutes of this - 10 more minutes of flying on Concorde than we had bargained for! - and then were turned out of the stack on our way into Heathrow. I had also been talking with that cabin crew member about the excitement of the landing, and she stopped by both before and after the landing roll to ensure that we enjoyed the experience - of course we did! As we taxied around Heathrow, I could almost feel all the eyes turning to watch us go past - many experiences of watching people inside the terminals when Concorde taxies past demonstrates that this always happens, and indeed when Concorde takes off, all staff who can see out inevitably turn round to watch.
Farewell
As at JFK, ground air was not immediately connected to the aircraft, so even in London's cooler temperatures the aircraft rapidly became quite warm inside. Apart from one lady who had been fretting all the way over from New York about her connection, who had some reason to get up and charge off the aircraft, it was interesting to see a lot of first timers who were also keen to get going as soon as possible. Needless to say, we weren't among them; we lingered until last and said goodbye to all the lovely cabin crew who had been looking after the rear cabin, before going to join the queue for a visit to the flight deck.
This time, we did take our proper turn, which was near the end. Having missed out on our flight certificates on the way over, we made sure that we got a couple from the CSD (who wouldn't in fact have let us go away without them), and then got them signed by the entire flight crew, the CSD, the cabin crew member manning the front door and, eventually, the cabin crew member with the new uniform to whom I'd been chatting earlier.
Then it really was time to go home, us towards immigration, the crew towards the Compass Centre to clock out and then to their homes. We at least had another lingering look at the aircraft - and more photos - from the windows of the arrivals level corridor. And then it was back to the mundane sights of T4's immigration control, baggage reclaim (with some charming Concorde team ground staff on hand to watch the last remaining bags - ours - which had been pulled off the carousel for us so that we didn't have to watch them going around with some subsonic aircraft baggage), and the Heathrow Express. Only we felt like we were still walking on air ... and secure in the knowledge that despite the extra time spent at the aircraft before leaving her, BA178 was still about 2 hours out of London.
Thank you Qantas, thank you BA. Many experiences are sold as once-in-a-lifetime events. Few deserve the hype. A trip on Concorde does, especially at this time. It was truly a treat to have travelled on board the most beautiful object ever to have flown in the sky.
Long-haul flying - how to sleep your way around the world.
