The Faster Lane / Tyler Brûlé
Flying start
Today’s column is being typed out at 35,000 feet, just off the west coast of South Korea. If the in-flight moving map is correct, then we’ll soon pass just south of Suwon and Wonju and before long be out over the country’s east coast. I boarded this flight in Paris almost 11 hours ago. As I settled into my seat, the captain came to say hello and apologised for the two-hour delay. He explained that Chinese airspace was particularly complicated – in fact, more complicated than usual – and that he would have to be very precise when crossing over the country. He didn’t go into much detail but I did notice that we made an awful lot of turns and climbs as we sped over the PRC, before making a slightly harder right to jet across the Korean peninsula. There’s maybe time for one or two more coffees before I slip out of my pyjamas and back into my daywear. Also, I need to remember to ask the flight attendant to return the boxes of éclairs that I left with her when I boarded. But before we start making the approach, let’s go back to the start of this journey.
Can you recall the last time you had one of those flights when you just hit it off with the flight attendant from the get-go and knew it was all going to be good?
“You have your own apartment this evening.” This was her opening line as I arranged things around my seat – notebook and pen at the ready, shoes in locker, slippers on, and phone charging, before checking out the Sisley products, applying the face cream and observing the chic bits of Air France branding here and there. “There’s no one else joining you to Tokyo Haneda tonight. Lucky you.” I glanced across at the empty seats, was handed a menu and then she said, “We can pretend it’s just us on a private Falcon all the way to Japan.”
“I like your thinking,” I said and, as we chatted, the gentleman in charge of the flight came by and asked how long I’d be staying in Japan and if I would be returning with them. I explained that I was heading to Seoul and HK after Tokyo but, perhaps, if they were working the Hong Kong route next weekend, I might see them on my return to Paris CDG.
“I’m going to make your bed up for you over here so that you can dine and work, and then just roll into bed,” she said. I agreed that this was an excellent idea and said that I wouldn’t be dining as it was already past midnight and I might watch a film. “Also, I must apologise that the wifi is not working on this flight. I’m not sure why but the maintenance team wasn’t able to identify the problem before the aircraft was turned around.” C’est dommage. I had a glass or two of champagne and then crossed the aisle to tuck myself in and watch a film. I took the little paper sterilisation seal off the headphones and found the film that I wanted to watch but there was no sound. Hmmmmmppphhhh! A two-hour delay, “pas de wee-fee” and no audio would normally irk me but I put my head down, plotted the week ahead and passed out.
Just east of Ulaanbaatar, I woke up to go to the bathroom. I fumbled around to find my slippers, managed to locate and slide into them and stood up. I was going to turn on a light but couldn’t be bothered and went to pull back the curtain. At the exact same moment on the opposite side, the flight attendant did the same thing and we scared the hell out of each other. We were nose to nose, there was very little light in the galley and given I’d been sleeping for a solid six hours and been holding off on a haircut until I hit Tokyo, I definitely had horns atop my head. She didn’t quite scream but she let out a high-pitched “Oooooo”, I made a gravelly “Ohhhhhhh” and then we both retreated into the galley and started to laugh somewhat hysterically.
From check-in to lounge to aircraft, I spoke to four people working for Air France and all had been with the airline for about 20 to 35 years. One had started in Grenoble and made her way to Paris, another was always based at CDG and the woman looking after me had been there for 19 years. She told me how much she loved her job. As we started our approach to Tokyo Haneda, she asked whether I enjoyed the flight and whether I minded if she turned up the lights a little. “What was not to like?” I asked. “Perfect service and enjoyable.”
At some point across 2024, CEOs and their accounting teams in various corners of the service sector will look at costs and headcount, and there’ll be a temptation to pay off those who have been around the longest. Do not. Seasoned pros should be cherished, rewarded and retained for they are the embodiment of the brand. Merci.