Tokyo Trip Report Part Two: V Gates?

Part One: The Initial Introduction
Part Two: V Gates?
Part Three: The Hajj on Lufthansa First
Part Four: There’s No Place Like Home (When Home is the First Class Terminal)
Part Five: Axis to Axis, Busts to Busts
Part Six: The Rising Sun, The Setting Fun
Part Seven: Turning Japanese in JAL First
Part Eight: Mormon-ey, More Party (at the SkyClub)
Part Nine: What’s Next?

Our first memory of this trip, as with most trips, is arriving at the First Class counter right around the time when we arrived at sobriety. After checking us in, the gate purser, sensing our urgent need for refreshment, escorted us to an “Expedited” security lane that took an unacceptable two minutes to clear. Once through, we quickly made our way to the Lufthansa Senator lounge.

A pathetic attempt at red carpet.

Upon arrival, the lounge purser informed us that the First Class restaurant upstairs would not open until 2 pm, a huge blow not at all softened by the Business Class “champagne” on offer. Rather than resort to eating the fresh fruit, sandwiches, and salads set out for Business Class passengers, we staved off our hunger by downing six or seven glasses of the poor man’s sparkling wine. We also took the opportunity to check out some of the business cubicles, just to see what it feels like to look like you’re working. Frankly, we don’t see what these “businessmen” are on about, but at least it gave us the opportunity to leave numerous brilliant comments on our rivals’ blogs.

Borderline insulting.

We were also able to check our points balances, but just as we started verifying them to everyone within earshot a lounge employee informed us that the First Class restaurant had finally opened. Once upstairs, alone but for an ethnic server and peering down on the Business Class prison we had escaped, we felt in our element once again.

More like “it.”

Our meal began with a bit of salad, a couple smallish prawns and several glasses of champagne, enough to ready us for the entree. Since we were in Maryland, we figured the crab cake would be excellent. Unfortunately for us and for the unimportant person on whom our partially-eaten crab cake landed, we were terribly wrong. Shortly thereafter, we remembered that we were in New York.

More like drab cake.

During the remainder of our brief stay we sampled each of the digestifs and dessert wines available, finding them universally awful. Fortunately we had time for a couple more glasses of champagne before our waiter led us to the gate, though we had to insist at least three times that he do so. After enduring the nausea and depression that always comes with walking through an American airport, we were ready for a nap.

Stay tuned for the next installment, detailing our in-flight experience in Lufthansa First Class from New York to Frankfurt!