The Beijing Airport

The Beijing airport is huge and modern. But the thing that struck me about being an international traveler in China wasn't the impressive stretch of designer shops and upscale cafes - it was the people. My first stop in China was the Air China check-in desk. I needed to get my boarding pass for my next flight to Kuala Lumpur. The staffers were courteous and they gladly spoke English. My next stop was security. A police officer at the customs counter helped me complete a couple of short forms, and quickly guided me through to the baggage scanners without any hassle. When I arrived at the security scanner and sent my bag through, they noticed my personal washroom kit that the airline gave me during my flight. They opened it up and found the little tubes of soap and lotion, etc. But instead of throwing it away like they do in the US, they reached behind the counter, grabbed a plastic zipper bag and placed my items inside. Then they put that bag inside my carry on luggage and happily sent me on my way. I was shocked.

Later, I stopped at the restroom to brush my teeth. It had been nearly 20 hours since I left my house and my mouth was in bad shape. A washroom attendant was mopping the floor when he noticed me reaching for my toothbrush. He offered me a cup from the cabinet and I accepted. As I was leaving, he asked me for a "tape". I was puzzled. What kind of tape could a young Chinese guy want from an American traveler? Obviously, I should have known, but I didn’t, so I asked. "What kind of tape?" "A tape." He held his hands in the shape of a square. I was thinking "cassette?", so I gave him a puzzled look. He explained further, "A tape for the cup." Of course. A tip. As I fumbled for my wallet, he made small talk. "Where are you from?" "United States. Philadelphia." "Yes yes." "Do you know Philadelphia?" "Unites States number one." Then he gave me thumbs up. I gave him a dollar. I guess he didn't recognize "Philadelphia". Not that he hasn't heard of it - maybe it was my pronunciation that was unfamiliar.

My return flight through Beijing was not nearly as easy. I had a 5 hour layover, which I was dreading, but at least I could hang out in the Business Class lounge and get online. Too bad that's not how it went down. To Chinese airport workers, international transfers to the US are like Sasquatch - they're a complete mystery. The ticket agent in Malaysia told me my bags were checked through to san Fran where I would have to get my luggage and go through US customs. Made sense to me. So when I arrived in Beijing, I "knew" my luggage would already be on its way to my connecting flight. So I started looking for signs directing me to International Transfers. No sweat, I saw the transfers desk way off in the distance, and started walking.

A couple of minutes later, after a sweaty stroll through the oddly hot Beijing Airport, the dude at the transfers desk told me he couldn't help me. To check in with my airline, I'd have to go through immigration. WTF? I started walking all the way back to where I started. But when I got there, I was a little confused. Why would I have to go through immigration with everyone else who planned to enter China as a visitor? I could see my gate on the concourse below. I just needed a boarding pass to get there. I asked the guy at immigration and he clearly said "you need to go over to the international transfers desk." "The one way over there?" "Yes." "They sent me here." "You need to go over to the international transfers desk." "Okay, if you say so."

A couple of minutes later, after another sweaty stroll, I was back at the transfers desk. Of course the guy had the same answer he had before. I tried to explain further, but he just kept telling me to go through immigration. So fuck it. I followed his advice.

I filled out three forms, telling China that I was not carrying a shitload of cash with me, I didn't have any drugs on me, I didn't have any vegetables or whatnot, and I hadn't been to a chicken farm in the past week. The officer at immigration sent me through and pointed me down the hall to an escalator. After a few minutes of walking, I was... what the fuck?!?... I was at the main entrance to the Beijing Airport. I could have walked right through the door to have an extended stay in China. And that might not seem so strange, but you have to have a visa to stay in China. They let me through immigration without a visa? Something seemed fucked up.

I asked no fewer than 5 airport employees where the United ticketing counter was. I ended up in the Domestic Departures area, then in the International Departures area. But nothing. No United counter whatsoever! I stopped another airport employee and asked again. "A8." "A8?" "Yes. A8 *giggle*" I guess she thought of a funny joke or something. I walked to row A line 8. Malaysia Airlines. Again - WTF? I was so confused. I decided to ask the Malaysia Air staffer at the desk. She explained that the United agent would be at that counter in an hour. I guess they share a counter.

Too bad I was just at the airport's main entrance. There are hardly any benches, no restaurants, no shops, and it seemed like the air conditioning system was dead. So I sat on a bench and nearly fell asleep while reading. That hour seemed to last all day.

Finally, I saw the United agent walk up to the counter. It was 9am and my flight was scheduled to leave at noon. I had been in the airport for two hours.

The ticket agent was relatively nice, but I was not on my best behavior. My mood was slipping and dude couldn't have cheered me up if he was Don fucking Rickles. I got my ticket and showed him the info on my luggage. "I just want to confirm that my luggage is checked through to San Francisco." "No Sir. You need to get your luggage at Baggage Claim and re-check it here." "But Baggage Claim is nowhere near here and I've already been through immigration. I'm sure they won't let me back into the arrivals area." He turned to his coworker and they spoke Chinese to each other for maybe 5 minutes. I waited patiently, yet red-faced.

Then finally, things started looking up. The agent said they would have my bags transferred to my flight and they would give me a new Baggage Claim ticket at the gate. After another half hour of being ushered through security and customs, I was finally at my gate. I found the nearest Business Class lounge and sat down for a couple of free beers.

Economy Class is for Suckers

I took a lot of notes during my recent business trip to Kuala Lumpur. This is the first in a series of posts about my experience.

Before this trip, I had never flown first class. Let me tell you - first class is insane.

There are fresh flowers everywhere, standing individually in artfully folded napkins. They are placed in the first class restrooms, on the snack trays, and the dinner cart.

The seats are a work of art - at least in the first suite. They face away from each other at a slight angle so the passenger sitting next to you is not in your immediate peripheral vision. And there's no danger of accidentally bumping elbows with someone. The seats have all the controls of a fancy office massage chair. You can move forward and back, adjust lumbar support, use the lumbar massage feature, open the foot rest, and there's even a button marked "bed" that turns the whole thing into, well, a bed. And they give you a blanket, a regular size pillow, and a smaller pillow - all with fresh linens, not that crappy gossamer pillowcase you get in economy class.

The seat is the center piece to your own personal office space. You have a reading lamp, an LCD screen for movies, a power source for your laptop, a couple of drink holders, big cushy headphones, and a personal grooming kit with face soap, lotion, toothpaste, lip balm, mouthwash, tissues, earplugs, eye covering thingy, and socks.

The flight attendant constantly asked me if I wanted another beverage or a hot towel or a different movie (amazing selection by the way - Stranger than Fiction, Dreamgirls, Blood Diamond, etc). But instead of watching their movies on the little personal LCD screen, I plugged in my laptop and watched a couple of DVDs that I brought along for the trip. I almost forgot how much I love Scarface.

The food is truly fantastic. And I'm not just saying that it's good compared to other airline food. This shit is brilliant, even for a vegetarian. I know I just keep listing things, but fuck it. I had French toast, fresh fruit, yogurt, potato and leek quiche, mixed greens with balsamic vinaigrette and croutons, egg fried rice, a cheese platter, focaccia bread, Heineken, pinot noir, port, Tanqueray and tonic, and various juices and bottled water. The port knocked me out. Literally. The flight attendant asked if I'd like a little port wine to go with my fruit and cheese tray. Then she made some remark about how she always says "port wine" by mistake when you're really supposed to refer to it simply as "port". I said, "Yes please. I love port." "Really? Oh then I'll give you a full glass." Normally you'd serve port in a glass designed for desert wines. But she filled up a red wine glass. A wine glass full of port can be a dangerous thing. I was asleep within half an hour.

And when it's time to eat, the flight attendant places a mini tablecloth on your dinner tray then serves your food on real plates and gives you real stainless steel flatware. And of course, the drinks are served in glass, not plastic.

I can't believe I nearly forgot the champagne. As soon as I boarded and found my seat, the flight attendant brought me a glass of bubbly. I've always imagined what goes on behind that blue curtain in first class. I'll tell you right now: It's champagne, flowers, and extreme politeness from the time you board to the time you land.

I’m Alive and I’m not in Jail

Maybe I was just being paranoid, but somehow I thought that the Malaysian airport security people would be able to see through my polite and quiet demeanor and realize I'm a scumbag. Either that or I'd be kidnapped. You know... because that kinda shit happens in this part of the world. I don't want to say any more right now - they might be monitoring.

When I get back, I'll tell you about the wonders of First Class travel. Seriously, you have no idea what goes on behind the blue curtain. And check out this swanky hotel.

Okay, I'm afraid I've said too much.

Sitting on a plane for 24 hours sucks

I'm going here tomorrow. My hotel is next to this.