Around the world in 41 hours and 17,000 miles. Plus: I want to live in Emirates first-class.
By Patrick Smith
Read more: Technology & Business, Flying, Airlines, Business, Airports, P. Smith, Ask the Pilot
Patrick Smith
Incheon International Airport in Seoul, Korea
Sept. 26, 2008 | In a column last February, I outlined a potential three-week circumnavigation of the globe in which the participant, making stops in 15 countries on six continents, never sets foot outside. The convenience -- or is it perversity? -- of the in-terminal hotel makes such bizarre itineraries possible. In the piece I quote Robert Louis Stevenson: "I travel for travel's sake," he once wrote. "The great affair is to move." Sure, but what would he make of such a twisted, ecologically reckless and, when it comes right down to it, pointless journey?
One has to admit, however, all these years after Magellan, that there still exists an undeniable attraction to the idea of circling the globe. I, for one, had always wanted to do it if for no greater reason than, well, to have done it. This is the only planet we know, and would it not be a kick to start off in one direction and keep going, all the way around to the point where you started? Wanderlust in its purest form.
But at least I didn't opt for the all-indoors option. Somehow that's too extreme, even for me. My route was a bit more conventional, with plenty of time for sightseeing -- a visit to the Korean DMZ, and an 18-inning baseball game in Seoul, South Korea -- if not without its moments of why-am-I-doing-this tedium.
Leg 1: ATL-ICN 14.5 hours, 6,200 nautical miles
Atlanta to Seoul is a longer flight than you might expect. Fourteen hours plus, on this particular day. And I do mean day. The Monday morning departure lands you in Korea at around 2 p.m. local time -- the entire flight in sunshine. Except suddenly it is Tuesday now, courtesy of the international date line, which you crossed while watching "Flight of the Conchords" and enjoying a midflight snack of Napa cabbage salad and beef loin with shrimp and Muenster cheese. By the time you fall asleep in your Seoul hotel room, you've been in broad daylight for 25 consecutive hours. Depending on the latitude and time of year, it's possible to keep going and going, ever westward, and never see the sun set. There's some travel therapy for anyone with seasonal affective disorder (SAD).
Note: The sculpted overhead bins of the Boeing 777 are the most attractive in the sky. They are huge but unimposing, with a stylish design that makes the plane feel even roomier than it already is. Also note: The curtains between economy and business class are useful for keeping the lavatories from overcrowding, but they do not block out the noise of crying babies. Neither do the noise reduction headphones provided by Delta. Somewhere out there is a plane with no babies on board. I would like to be on that plane.
Incheon International Airport, serving Seoul, is maybe the most efficient, functional and overall flier-friendly airport I have ever been to. It's cavernous and immaculately clean; security and immigration are a breeze; the staff at the multilingual information desks are disarmingly helpful; and the terminal is crammed with amenities: a free Internet cafe, luggage storage, cellphone rental desks, a post office, a massage room, even a small museum. There's a business center, a transit hotel and a tour desk that arranges quickie excursions for connecting passengers (enjoy an hourlong tour of nearby temples or a brief sightseeing swing through downtown Seoul).
The pleasantness is enhanced by a cathedral-like quietness throughout. If American airports need to borrow one idea from their counterparts abroad, it's that passengers need not be bombarded by a continuous loop of public address announcements, most of them useless and redundant. In many U.S. terminals, it's not uncommon to hear two or three announcements blaring simultaneously. Together with those damn, unsilenceable CNN monitors, the result is a hurricane of noise. I don't know if anyone has ever studied the effects of airport noise on passengers, but certainly it ratchets up stress levels.
One gripe: The rail link from Incheon into Seoul is not yet operational.
Leg 2: ICN-BKK 5.5 hours, 1,980 nautical miles
Somebody once told me that Korean Air flights carry a flight attendant whose sole job it is to clean and straighten the lavatories (a junior position, I take it). To find out, I went into the bathroom and threw garbage all over the floor, then came back in 10 minutes.
Just kidding, but I did go have a look. Indeed the lavs were ultra-clean, and each contained two bottles of facial lotion and a bouquet of complimentary toothbrushes.
The 777-300 was in Korean's intra-Asian configuration. No swanky sleeper seats upfront and no seat-back entertainment. The upholstery in my section of economy might have been the ugliest I have ever seen. The seats were a two-tone brown. The plane was practically brand new and immaculately clean, but the cabin design made it look old.
Still, the small touches compensated for any lack of attractiveness. Those toothbrushes in the lavs were a good idea, and there was a multilanguage newspaper selection at each economy-class bulkhead. Wine and beer were complimentary in all classes, and the crew was happy to offer refills. After the meal service, attendants came around with trays of water and juice every half-hour.
Korean Air's slogan, "Excellence in Flight," is one of my favorites. It's so pleasantly succinct, with a clever double meaning and without the pandering, we-do-it-all-for-you sentiments chosen by too many airlines. Unfortunately, the company has had a hard time shaking its reputation for being unsafe.