Tuesday, 20 September, The rest of the way to Bucharest

Written 20 September 2022

The flight from Atlanta to Amsterdam, our first experience of flying Delta One class, was a real lesson in how the other half lives! Each of us had an individual cubicle—David's and mine separated by a sliding panel that could be opened so we could chat—with a seat (equipped with a three-point seat belt) that converted at the touch of a button to a completely flat bed. Each cubicle had a counter, a slide-out tray table, a storage cubby, We also got a zippered case containing a large pillow and a large very warm quilt, as well as an "amenity pouch" containing a toothbrush (and minute tube of toothpaste), hand cream, lip balm, an eyeshade, ear plugs, a ball-point pen, and a set of scuff slippers. Each seat came with its own set of noise-cancelling earphones that plugged into the sound system, and a big TV screen (153 movies and 37 TV series on demand). We boarded first, of course, and our section was the only one forward of the boarding door, so while they loaded the rest of the plane behind us, stewardesses could circulate freely in our aisles with trays of orange juice, sparkling white wine, and mimosas.

Delta is trying hard to reduce its carbon footprint, so everything they can manage is now organic and/or biodegradable. The amenity pouch itself is hand stitched by artisans from pure cotton. The toothbrush is made of bamboo and the pillow and quilt of 100% recycled plastic bottles. The barrel of the ball-point pen was cardboard. It's actually impressive.

David opted for the "dine and rest" schedule, where they brought his whole dinner at once, then left him strictly alone to sleep. For the rest of us, they started by spreading individual white tablecloths on our tray tables, then brought around the wine cart (which was actually draped with a Delta-patterned fabric cover, so the battered metal underneath didn't show). I just asked for water, but I still got the little dish of munches they served with the wine—a dried peach half, praline-coated pecans, and little cubes of cheese.

Next came a tray with a multigrain roll and butter (a nice adequate scoop of butter, not those maddening miniature plastic tubs); a salad of arugula, dried cranberries, pecans, and goat cheese with a honey-mustard dressing; and a bowl of puréed cream of mushroom soup, poured hot from a large thermos bottle and topped with a single herb crouton.

For the third course, I chose BBQ-braised boneless beef short rib with whipped sweet potatoes and braised collards. The other choices were chicken "Country Captain" and a vegetable plate. Dessert was a choice among sweet-potato pie, plain vanilla ice cream, and (my choice) vanilla ice cream topped with stewed cherries and almond brickle.

Surprisingly, it was all excellent!

Written 23 September 2022

The breakfast they served an hour before arrival was a choice between a cold muesli concoction with bagel and fruit cup and a hot baked fluffy frittata with a cream-of-tomato sauce, a sort of beef and potato hash (separate chunks of fried potato and beef), and the same bagel and fruit cup. I had the frittata, and again it was very good!

But the crowning touch was that both the roll and the bagel had been heated! I have railed for years (decades!) in these blogs about Delta's infuriating habit of serving all breadstuffs chilled, even in first class. At last they have seen the light (at least in Delta One).

I was torn between watching movies and sleeping on the flat bed, so I split the difference—I watched just two movies (okay, I'll admit it, they were Thor and Dr. Strange in the Multiverse of Madness), then stretched out and was able to turn on my side—impossible in other airline seats and so much more comfortable. Surprisingly, David found the flat bed quite uncomfortable, because he wanted to lie on his back, and his shoulders were too broad for the width of the seat!

In Amsterdam, we were off the plane in a flash, and our luggage, adorned with bright yellow first-class arrows, emerged promptly. The next step was to find David's gate, which turned out to be a piece of cake. We made it there in 20 minutes flat from wheels hitting the tarmac, and it would have been about 30% shorter if we hadn't had to walk a ways to the gate listing, only to retrace our steps to reach the actual gate. On the way we passed sizable sections of these lovely, heavily vegetated walls.

So I saw David off, then set out to find the much-vaunted new KLM VIP lounge, described as "Lounge 52, near the F gates." Now that was a hike! It took me 20 minutes to get there, even taking advantage of several moving sidewalks along the way! I passed several other numbered lounges, some for airlines I'd never even heard of, and all the while calculating just how much time I'd have to allow to get back to my gate, which was next to David's.

But I got there eventually, rode the long escalator to the door, and scanned my boarding pass for admittence. The place really is huge, though not as large as its on-line publicity photos make it look. It has a capacity of thousands, but it was nontheless about 3/4 full. It's divided into "geographical" zones so that its size doesn't make it seem cavernous—for example, "Sky" overlooks the runways, "Polder" is the center for food service, and other sections specialize in quiet, electronic connectedness, alcoholic beverages, or other features. You can get a shower; you can rent a sleeping cubicle. There are luggage lockers and every possible style of seating. Aside from the sleeping cubicles and alcohol, they don't seem to charge for anything. For example, the free buffet changed while I was there from "sumptuous breakfast" to "varied but mostly vegetarian hot lunch." And even with all those folks, the lines weren't long. Scattered throughout were dispensers of sparkling and still water and those machines where you pick your favorite soft drink on a touch screen and hold a glass under the spout. Very nice indeed.

Eventually the hour of my flight approached, and I was delighted to find that its gate had been changed; the new gate was a good quarter mile closer. We boarded about half an hour late, and "European Business" class (the highest available on that flight) wasn't such a much—about like Delta comfort plus. But, mirabile dictu, they served us a meal! On a two-hour flight! Pasta salad with cherry tomatoes, smoked salmon, shaved Parmesan, and a lemon wedge. At the back right, kalamata olives and marinated sundried tomatoes. At the back left, chocolate mousse. And a warmed bread roll! The knife, fork, and spoon are wooden.

Nine of us on the flight were headed for the Viking cruise. We rendezvoused with the Viking reps without difficulty and were ferried to the JW Marriott Grand Hotel Bucharest. I had Googled the route and expected it to take 15–20 minutes, but in fact, it took 45—I probably checked Google at 3 am Bucharest time. The distance wasn't great, but the rush-hour traffic was dense.

David was waiting for me in the lobby, so I just dumped my stuff in the room, and we went to the hotel's steak house for dinner. Googled had claimed it would be closed on a Tuesday, but for some reason, it wasn't. It turned out to be an exact replica of an American steakhouse. Except for the prices on the menu, which were in Romanian lei, you couldn't have told it wasn't in the U.S. My medium-rare USDA choice ribeye was great, and my twice-baked loaded baked potato was the best I've ever had.

Shortly after arriving at the hotel, I realized I didn't have my long-suffering and well-traveled blue water bottle, equipped with a handy carabiner that can be clipped to my purse strap. Drat. I was pretty sure I'd left it on the bus from the airport. I checked with the Viking desk on the way back from dinner, but they had no word of it. But the next morning, on the way back from breakfast, there it was, waiting for me on the Viking desk.