This blog has been dormant for far too long. Though mainly focused on adventures in Nepal, there are times when living here creates adventures outside of Nepal. Let me explain.
Kathmandu is comparable to climbing into a warm, nice bath. It is always comforting at first, but if you don’t pay attention it will slowly grow more frigid until your whole body is shouting at you to get out. Those who have lived there will know the feeling. In other words, getting out ever so often offers a respite from the daily madness of Kathmandu traffic, loadshedding, water-shortage, pollution and general decay of all required infrastructure.
Most of the time, getting out means a short hop to Bangkok and then straight to Oslo from there. Thai runs an excellent service to and from Bangkok. They are, in my opinion, the best service to and from Kathmandu. Punctual, service-minded and with an excellent product – at least in business class.
But sometimes, other options are required. A clear number two is Dragonair to Hong Kong. I need to go to Hong Kong regularly, primarily due to my studies and, secondarily, due to the required follow-ups after my surgery earlier this year. So my joy was great earlier this year, when we were summoned for the annual CFO conference which was to take place in Amsterdam.
This trip would combine very well with my first scan after the surgery, and Cathay Pacific has a direct service from Hong Kong to Amsterdam. The ticket was booked and I flew to Hong Kong. I did my scan, and then the Iceland volcano erupted and promptly shut down European airspace. After a few days of waiting, the conference was cancelled. This meant I had to book a one-way back to Kathmandu, and left me with an unused ticket to and from Amsterdam and back to Kathmandu.
As soon as the invite came for the Global Leaders’ conference in Oslo due in August-September, I knew that I should first and foremost finish the ticket we had already paid for and made arrangements accordingly. This would mean going first to Hong Kong, then to Amsterdam and then on to Oslo with a few hours in Copenhagen on the way. And to get to Hong Kong, I would have to fly via Bangkok with an overnight stay there. The routing from hell…
The start from Kathmandu to Bangkok was good as always, and I crashed completely at the hotel downtown as I was struggling with clogged sinuses and a cold. A big bowl of tom yam goong helped clear that up! The flight onwards from Bangkok to Hong Kong was at 4pm, and this left me with plenty of time in Hong Koing to get a shower and attend to general hygiene prior to the flight to Amsterdam.
Let me dwell here on the pleasures of flying Cathay Pacific in their business class. First, you get your own cubicle with a seat that converts into a completely horizontal bed. Add two pillows and a thin duvet, and you have a recipe for sleeping well. Their inflight service is thoughtful and eerily prescient and present.
Thoughtful, because they offer a light meal option and this is especially welcome considering that the flight departs around midnight. Most of us are not in the mood for a heavy meal. The light meal consisted of a very tasty tomato and basil soup, a salad, a bowl of mixed fresh berries (!) and a chocolate cake with raspberry sauce. OK, so the latter is not that light. The rest of this was simply excellent, and just enough to ensure a good night’s sleep. I slept 7 hours straight. Upon waking up, the stewardess (Karen) noticed and asked if I would like a snack. Cathay have started serving Hong Kong style soups onboard, and on this flight they carried the classic shredded pork with preserved cabbage. Awesome! A few hours later, I added fruit, muesli and a small selection of dim sum and was ready for landing.
And then it all went wrong. Upon landing, I soon discovered that none of the transfer desks open could offer any help to SAS-customers whatsoever. Star Alliance made no difference at all, and I was asked to walk from one end of the airport (and Schiphol is huge) to the other. This of course meant passing through passport-control and security. The airport was also heated, and I had worked up a decent sweat by the time I made it to the Schengen border.
It remains a mystery to me why there is always chaos at these. It is not as if they can claim to be surprised by the number of passengers showing up – the airlines can give them the exact number of persons and their passport details well in advance of arrival, so they stand a fair chance of organizing themselves and the lines just a tad better than what they normally do. And it is not as if they can claim that they know anything about managing queues, because it is so bleeding obvious that they don’t. It is always pandemonium, with all of humanity represented: China, India, different parts of Africa, North America, Europeans. They are all there, and they all need to have their passports inspected in minute detail. I still wonder why the guy looking at my passport had to flip through all my pages.
As things were, I could accept chaos at the Schengen border because it is so clear that they are incompetent when it comes to flowplanning and queue management. And I never harass those who are executing the plan of an incompetent mind. And then we came to security, and Schiphol instantly got itself blacklisted for any and all future transfers for me.
The lines were admirably short, and that is as far as the good news goes. They also had one of the fancy new hulk-machines, i.e. full-body scanners. I have developed a healthy disregard for all things radiation, as I get more than my fair share during follow-up scans for my cancer. I duly made my way to a line where I would not have to go through one of these.
As usual I had to take my laptop out. Normally, they will allow me to keep it inside its sleeve, but not here. Oh no, it had to come completely out. And could I open it please? I asked him to repeat, as I was certain I had misunderstood him. I sadly hadn’t. Someone, somewhere, with far too much time and resources and far too little intelligence had come up with the idea that all laptops had to be opened. Not even the otherwise draconian TSA in the USA have thought of this, and I shudder at the thought of this practice spreading. Come to think of it, neither in China nor in India do they have this practice, and I would think India has a higher threat level as far as terrorism is concerned and that China tops the list of nations when it comes to institutionalized paranoia. But here at Schiphol they beat both of them, and I am sure that somewhere in Holland there is a smug bureaucrat smiling furtively at that thought.
After this brief interlude of madness, and after another 10-minute walk, I finally spotted the transfer-desk I had been asked to walk to. I approached in high spirits. Only to have them dashed when the friendly woman from Lufthansa told me she could not help me at all. She could only access Lufthansa systems and the SAS-team would not be there until 2 hours before departure. This flew like a lead-balloon with me and she could tell. And for the first time in my life I met a friendly and helpful Lufthansa staff. She said I could go to the lounge nearby, inform them of the situation and rest there until the SAS team arrived. I thanked her profusely, and told her that if I ever got a choice between Amsterdam and Frankfurt, I would go for Frankfurt as Lufthansa at least has people on duty who can help travelers.
I was looking forward to the lounge, with a nice shower, wifi for catching up and general peace and quiet. Sadly, only one of these were to be experienced. Upon entering I enquired if they had showers, which of course they did not. The lady answering looked bemused, surprised and annoyed at the same time – no small feat! So no shower in which to rid myself of the grime of the last 16 hours. Not ideal, but still manageable.
I sat down, opened my laptop to go online and found the lounge network. It required a number and a password so I approached the counter again to get these. The lady smilingly informed me that there was no free wifi in this lounge – I would have to pay. Looking carefully around me, I could again confirm to myself that this was the business class lounge, and there was no free wifi. I have rarely been more negatively surprised.
At this stage, Schiphol had planted itself so firmly in my mind as a no-go airport, fully on par with Frankfurt, that I to this day see no chance for it to redeem itself.
But all of this got me thinking: The difference between Asia and Europe, is that Asia works and delivers a service which is above and beyond that offered in Europe. I am sure that there are stringent union-rules telling SAS when they can and can not be available to serve their passengers, and this is so gloriously misguided that I can but hope and pray that SAS finally goes belly-up. This would at least allow them to build a customer-centered organization, rather than an employee-centered one.
The other difference is one of infrastructure. Most cities in Asia, Kathmandu being a notable exception, have relatively new airports which are thoughtfully planned and laid out. They offer a range of facilities most European airports can but dream of. They offer showers, massages, movie-theatres, gyms – you name it!
My future remains in Asia, that is for sure. The place works, has ambitions and is not yet at the level where employees look at themselves first rather than the customer. As soon as thinking about the customer first takes root again in Europe, I will gladly reconsider as Europe has so much going for it - just not service and infrastructure. Even Kathmandu does one of the two…
