The Flying Finns

It was an early start on Saturday morning – 3am. I wanted to be at the airport early, and that I was.

I was armed with my new carry-on luggage, acquired from Kickstarter – someone’s clever idea of what a traveller needs – all IT gadgets but no room for clothes. My earlier carry-on bag was suffering from ‘Coles-wheel’ syndrome, a condition evidenced by a tendency to self-propel in random directions and belly-flop in a gutter.

Adorned with mini-Duchess tag, we set off to the airport in the dark. Quickest trip ever at that time of the morning.

I didn’t know there was a special check-in desk for those connecting to an international flight at Sydney (or elsewhere). This knowledge would have saved me from arguing with a boarding pass machine which eventually asked me to seek help (I’ve been told that before). The check-in is in an obscurely hidden spot, yet seemingly known to others as there was quite a gathering of people at this early hour. At least I was able to sail through that process.

Warning : the Qantas lounges open at 5 am and are not 24 hour as the website suggests. Only a bubbler available for water until then.

When the lounge did open I availed myself of toast for breakfast, with plenty of hydrating apple juice. I have written previously about what happens when you fail to keep up the fluids when flying.

On arrival in Sydney I found the transfer desk to the international terminal surrounded by about 300 people. The weather was wet, very wet. Whilst there was no communication from the staff, I has been seated next to a Qantas captain on my flight to Sydney and he explained that, in inclement weather, the airport limited the number of vehicles allowed on the tarmac as planes may be hit by lightening. With that encouraging knowledge I stuck with him as his captain’s cap acted as an access-all-areas pass. When the bus finally arrived I followed him leaving the questioning ground staff in our wake.

The international terminal in Sydney leaves a lot to be desired. It is one big shop and you have to find you was through to see if there are any departure gates in your direction. I needed more water so I stopped in the business class lounge for a few minutes before facing up to the giant shop and its limited signage.

Although I was flying Qantas, and it was not a code share, the plane was a new FinnAir A330, staffed by FinnAir crew from Bangkok, all in that airline’s livery. The crew were efficient and understated, no bowing as Thai’s tend to do, no obsequious use of you name as if they know you and aren’t reading it off a piece of paper. They didn’t make it seem as if they had condescendingly allowed you on their personal aircraft. Very understated and impressive, even the safety video was just enough and no flag waving or wokeness.

My seat, or cubby as preferred to think of it, was very new and comfy with every necessity except no in-flight internet (9 hours cut off from the world). I tried the new fad – raw dogging – you can google it, I couldn’t. Mostly I slept and was warm and comfortable. They even have an extra seat belt across your thighs when you are lying down! No flying around the cabin for me – except one moment when the seatbelt sign came on whilst I was in the loo and I had to go expeditiously clamber my way back to my cubby.

Neil Perry still advises Qantas’s caterers and the food was delicious, though I did not order too much preferring to drink water. I’m not sure why the three words ‘plant based dining’ is preferred over the single word ‘vegetarian’ but that’s Qantas’ pretentiousness for you. It doesn’t reflect FinnAir’s style at all.

Every credit to FinnAir, an excellent journey.

Arrival at Bangkok was uneventful. I am staying at the Novotel at the airport. There was an underground walkway of empty shops and deserted of anyone but myself which led to the hotel, not a very inviting welcome. However my room is excellent.