Boarding an overnight flight from Washington to Germany three years ago, I settled in, ready to sleep or dig into my bag of video and audio amusements, when a middle-aged man climbed into the seat next to me. I closed my eyes -- and opened them again to the drumbeat of his knuckles on the window.
The man had brought nothing onboard, the movie screen wasn't working, and apparently all he could do for entertainment was tap on the window and sing to himself. Which he did, on and off, for eight hours.
The drum major doesn't have to worry anymore. Many airlines seem to believe that the longest flights, particularly those packed with business- and first-class seats — and amenities — may be their most lucrative routes. In the last three years, airlines have introduced a wealth of time-saving long-haul flights to the Middle East, Europe and Asia.
Singapore Airlines now flies nonstop between Newark Liberty and Singapore, Thai Airways between New York's Kennedy and Bangkok, Emirates daily between Kennedy and Dubai, and Continental between Newark and India or China, among other permutations. Delta Air Lines has aggressively upgraded its longest-haul flights, adding digital TV and music and redesigning its seats for more comfort. Air Tahiti Nui even has a nonstop from New York to Papeete, for those who want a direct shot to paradise.
This long-haul competition has spurred an arms race in onboard gadgets and services: movie channels, flat beds, more flight attendants, meals designed by prestigious chefs and exercise bars that can be used for yoga or stretching.
Over the last year, I've become a long-haul guinea pig, flying these new routes, sometimes one right after another. No flight allowed me to completely forget I was in a metal tube alongside strangers for as long as 18 hours. But the best ones helped me arrive at my destination with some sanity intact.
I started my odyssey in the spring of 2005 on South African Airways. South African's trip from New York to Johannesburg is one of the longest in the world — nearly 17 hours, with a brief refueling stop in Senegal. Since few other reliable carriers fly to Africa, SAA enjoys a virtual monopoly, and sometimes it shows.
I greedily scanned the enormous variety of films on my economy-class personal video system, but even at 165cm, I felt cramped in the tiny seat. (When I arrived in Johannesburg, I checked out webflyer.com, the online gabfest for frequent travelers, and found other complaints about the lack of legroom on South African Airways.)
Worse, the cabin staff often seemed to be missing in action. Midway through the flight, when I was able to flag down an attendant and request a soda, she brought me a can so small it barely filled a tiny airline glass. I asked for a second can and some ice. She simply shook her head and walked away. Pressing the call button got me silence.
Several weeks later, when I boarded Thai Airways' new flight from Kennedy to Bangkok, the only nonstop from the East Coast to the Thai capital, the atmosphere could hardly have been more different. In 2001, Thai's fleet was criticized — with an off-color invective — by the country's own prime minister. The New York route was a major attempt to upgrade Thai's image.
Onboard, in a spacious new Airbus A-340 fitted with just 215 seats — it could hold more than 300 — the staff seemed jazzed to fly. I sensed, for a moment, what it must have been like to go Pan Am in the 1940s, back when flying was glamorous and the staff shared the fun.
"I've never flown this far," one flight attendant told me, smiling. "It's going to be amazing."
It was. In the premium economy cabin — the New York-Bangkok flight offers Royal Silk (business), premium economy and economy — I had more legroom than in many American carriers' business class, and the seats could recline enough to approximate a bed. The staff performed like waiters at a classy restaurant, attentive but never smothering.
Once again, I found a multitude of choices in the personal video system, and meals that met the hardest-to-find adjective in airline food — light.
Six weeks later, I was heading over the Pacific again, this time on United. Though it has been operating in bankruptcy since 2002, United has made the expanding of its Asian network a key to escaping Chapter 11, and exited bankruptcy this winter. The airline has added flights to Japan and China, and started the first service by an American airline to Ho Chi Minh City, formerly Saigon, since the Vietnam War.
I settled into United's business class to China, on the upper deck of the plane, and the space felt cozy and private. Fruit and sandwiches were always available, and the staff chatted amiably with customers. The personal video option, though, contained fewer than 10 films, and they all seemed to star Will Ferrell or Vince Vaughn.
Returning from Asia, I sampled United's economy service. Sitting next to me, in the warren of seats by the window, an experienced traveler with a stoic expression pulled out his own bag full of tricks — a portable DVD player and a veritable library of novels.
He knew what he was doing. United economy simply couldn't compare with the same class on the non-American carriers. At mealtime, the flight attendants yelled out "chicken or beef," and several couldn't tell me what the chicken dish actually contained. There was no personal video: The entertainment consisted of an old-school screen in the front of the cabin, which I could barely see.
I decided to trade up, big time. Since Emirates inaugurated its New York-Dubai service in 2004, it's been winning raves from frequent travelers for its service and amenities. Much of that attention was lavished on Emirates' first class, where passengers travel in little suites, sleep on massaging beds and drink from personal minibars.
But what about economy? In November, I flew Emirates' New York to Dubai route, on my way to Sri Lanka. The flight was full: Ken Campbell, North America manager for Sri Lankan Airlines, which has a code share agreement with Emirates, says the Dubai route is almost always 100 percent booked.
A totally full economy cabin is never an entirely pleasant experience, but Emirates, more than any other long-haul carrier, makes it tolerable.
It does so with small touches: Leg rests in economy class that actually allow you to stretch out while sleeping and a 500-channel personal video system. And it had the best airline food I've had: spicy Indian curries and fluffy rice that tasted as if it had actually been made onboard — though I am sure it was not.
Throughout the flight, staff members circled through the cabin, achieving a balance between the stiff formality of some Asian airlines and American carriers' casual friendliness, which can sometimes verge into inattention.
Several months later, I boarded another almost daylong flight, this time on Singapore Airlines, from Newark to Singapore. The flight lasts more than 18 hours, yet Singapore's economy seats proved more comfortable than those in business class on most airlines.
The choice of films was smaller than on Emirates, but Singapore included far more art house choices, including Oscar nominees like The Constant Gardener and French and Italian offerings. The cabin staff was more polite than any other airline's, even delivering five extra meals to the fellow in front of me who just couldn't get enough airline food.
In the back of the economy cabin, there was a small walk-up station where you could get fruit, drinks, granola bars and other snacks, and attendants hung around to chat with passengers. By the end of the flight, the station felt like a city bar at happy hour, with passengers drifting to the back to swap airline stories, complain about their jobs, and even swap phone numbers.
The flight was, dare I say it, almost fun.
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