Layover: Osaka, Japan

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I’ve blogged about many different countries, but never Osaka, Japan. Why? It’s my least favorite layover. Taipei used to take that prize, but thankfully the 777 fleet inherited that trip some years back. Unfortunately, we got Osaka in exchange. It’s not the city of Osaka itself I despise; in fact, back in the day when we used to stay in a hotel downtown, I loved going there, visiting the glorious old castle, haunting the underground eateries for Okonomiyaki, a kind of local pancake or pizza made with chopped cabbage and egg topped or mixed with red ginger, yakisoba noodles, tenkasu (tempura crumbs), corn, green onion, squid, shrimp, dried bonito flakes, bean sprouts, and an optional sprinkled of hot chili power. Then the hotel was switched to one wa-aay out in the boonies, far from downtown, near to the cargo docks and an area known for a trade and convention center, providing a complete absence of culture or anything at all to do.. It’s not a layover; it’s a sentence, each excruciating hour spent there a hatch mark mentally etched in the hotel wall. Yet, it’s a productive trip pay-wise, almost 22 hours of flying punctuated by a single overnight in the hotel. It’s also where I can get to be the flying first officer as opposed to the Bunkie (relief pilot), meaning I get hands on the controls and a landing. The FAA requires we pilots have three landings every 90 days. It may not sound like a lot but we international types can fly only so many trips in a month in which most have two legs total, and with a crew of two or three first officers to one captain, well, we fight over the few landings like hungry coyotes over a jack rabbit. And so to Osaka I must go.

This time we took a route that brought us over Alaska. Rare clear skies offered the treat of a glorious view. You can almost see the curve of the earth. This is the mountain range where the volcano Redoubt is making news as it gets ready to blow. 





I ate while the scenery rolled by below. Here is a typical “yummy” crew meal:



Then it was time for my rest break. The bunkie relieved me, taking my seat as I left for the bunkroom in the cockpit and made my bed:

Sweet dreams:

 

Three and a half hours later I was awakened by the chime. A couple of cups of coffee and about three hours later we landed at Kansai International. It was approximately 5 pm local, about 1 am body clock time (ouch!). I got to land, and it was fun as always. I’m always grateful and a bit amazed that this is my job, that I actually get to fly this venerable, whale of a je
t, which surprisingly is quite graceful and maneuverable. On our final approach, the sun was setting and the cities ringing Osaka Bay–Osaka, Kobe–glittered like sequined patches on black silk. A hundred feet from touchdown several dark forms whizzed past. Birds. No surprise that the Hudson water landing is in the back of my mind in that second, all of the pilots’ minds, but had we hit our feathered friends at least the asphalt wasn’t far below!

After clearing customs, I dozed during the long, 45 minute bus ride, exhausted. With a sense of resignation, I drag my bags through the luxurious lobby and to my room. The work day is over. I sip a drink in my room, check e-mail and unwind. By 8:30 pm I’m asleep.

I wake at 10:30 pm, for it’s morning at home. I take two melatonin lozenges then am able to sleep some more, until about 3 am. I get up to write until the café opens.

Here’s the view from my room.


Very sterile, industrial, lacking the charm I love about Japan. On the higher floors there’s a great view of the docks where the huge container ships load and offload. It’s fun to watch sometimes, to imagine where the ships are going–or where they came from.

The hotel is 5-star excellent, a no-expense-spared property with acres of wood and stone.

Even the elevators are decked out.

It is simply gorgeous, but out in the middle of nowhere. I imagine it would normally rely on companies and business folks attending shows at the convention center next store but with the economy as poor as it is worldwide, it was a ghost town.

I love a Japanese breakfast.

 

read and ate then returned to my room to write until I could workout. I tried sleeping before the late afternoon pickup back to the airport, but couldn’t. I was tired when I got to the plane. It was the middle of the night body clock time. It was a marathon of effort staying awake until my break arrived at about 5 am home time. My break was an allotment of only 2.5 hours.
n> The chime didn’t wake me this time. I woke to a pounding on the door and the Bunkie yelling, “Sue! Wake up!” lol. I usually never sleep that heavy but needed it. Refreshed, I performed my first officer duties for the captain’s landing at San Francisco International about 3 hours later. I drove home to Sacramento, about 2 hours away. It is Tuesday. I am tired. Friday I do it all again.

Interesting link, and a few comments on the Miracle on the Hudson

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Sorry to be so delayed in responding to the numerous questions after the US Air accident.  My flying schedule has been a bit heavy, and crisscrossing the Pacific can get in the way of best intentions.  Yes, I’ve had many a bird-strike in my 30 years of flying, but nothing ever left more than a dent.  None ever got sucked in an engine.  Thankfully that really is rare, in general.


I am glad to see The Other Pilot, the first officer, finally being given credit for the safe and happy ending to that flight that day: 

 

 

(pic courtesy of group on Facebook)


Every time I saw a reporter write: the pilot, I groaned.  In the cockpit there is a TEAM, not “A” pilot.  There were two highly trained fliers in there that day and the first officer was actually the one flying when the birds hit. Sullenberger took the controls at that point so The Other Pilot could run checklists, make radio calls, talk to the people and the flight attendants, and try to get those &*$% started.  The Other Pilot was no doubt flipping switches like crazy trying to get those motors started, putting the fire out…until they ran out of time and altitude.  Both deserve all the kudos on the world, and, yes, they were, in Captain Sullenberger’s words, just doing their jobs.  Next time you hear someone ragging on the flight attendant for forgetting to put ice in a drink, or scolding the pilot for landing late, remind them that the primary responsibility and focus of these CREW MEMBERS is to keep them SAFE.

A hike in Hong Kong

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I’ve got a stockpile of travelogues stacked up but not the time to get them posted. I’ve been visiting family and friends and staying places where there is no internet (gasp!). Finally I have returned to where there is a signal.

On my last trip to Hong Kong I mentioned to one of the pilots I was flying with that I was looking for a new place to take a walk. He pointed out a hike up the mountain that is a paved trail leading to police barracks. He warned me that it was steep, and that the beginning of the road was hard to find. Feeling adventurous, off I went. I found the road after about 20 minutes of winding through a crowded marketplace.

The road led into forest/jungle.

As you can see from the trail leading up to the left, it was extremely steep. (actually, this photo doesn’t do it justice) It was the steepest grade of any paved trail I’d been on.

I saw a number of frail-looking elderly ladies walking oh-so slowly. I knew they’d soon be turning back, as I moved quickly past them. I thought I was in decent shape, but fell into a routine of step-step-step, pause and sweat, step-step-step. I tell ya, there was nothing as humbling as when the first of those old ladies passed me! They knew how to pace themselves! I told myself that they must do this every day (they were still climbing when i decided to turn back after about an hour of this.)

In between the trees, there were glimpses of the city below. Just stunning.

It was a great workout. I intend to do it again.

I wish all of you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!  A special thank you to all my readers for enjoying my stories, and to my friends and family for your love and support.  You make my life a wonderful thing!

some flying pics

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I thought you might like to view some photos that may help convey what it feels like to be flying a 747 on one of those long Pacific crossings. I took a few pics on my trip to Hong Kong this past week. I will bring my camera to Shanghai later this week and hopefully post a new travel blog.

Enjoy!

view out the left side:

view out front (the Pacific was particularly glassy that day, location: south of the Hawaiian Islands, north of Midway Island:

best seat in the house:

view to the center and right:

at 34,000 feet, we are well above the storms:

On an Early Morning Walk in Hong Kong…

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I always prefer walking or jogging outside to the confines of a workout room. In Hong Kong my favorite time to exercise is just as the sun is coming up. It’s early September and the air is very warm, still, thick with moisture, an instant coating on the skin as I leave the air conditioning of the hotel. Sunrises here are topical and lush but with a hushed softness: silver and lavender and peach making the harbor look like a pastel drawing. Skyscrapers are futuristic spires, hawks soaring between them. Hong Kong is a city of such contrasts, and one reason I love it so much.

It’s quiet as I cross the street to the walkway that follows the harbor. The elderly have beat me out here–men and women, some quite ancient, doing their odd, rhythmic exercises down by the water. I want to take a photo of each one. Each person is their own story.

The smells as I walk along are not pleasant. Whiffs of decay–fish? Dead bodies? Salt and seaweed?–come and go, but the views make it worth it. This is one of the busiest harbors in the world–or was; it’s certainly one of the most famous, but this time of day it’s peaceful. Only a few tiny fishing boats, an anchored cruise ship, a billionaire’s yacht, and a coast guard cutter slice silently across the glassy water. It’s Sunday morning and the old ferries that ceaselessly carry crowds between Kowloon and Hong Kong Island haven’t started.

A movement on the chunks of cement at the bottom on huge pilings catches my eye. I glimpse the trailing edge of a huge white rat and its thick pink tail before it disappears between the rocks. I have never seen a rat this large. No exaggeration, it’s bigger than my cat. Seconds later, a woman is heading toward me, her two little dogs tip-tapping along at her feet, unleashed, their little pink tongues lolling. They are smaller than the rat. I decide not to warn. They’ve done this before, I’m sure.

I keep going, past a cluster of waterside food vendors, the store-fronts still closed with metal shutters. Up on one service counter, his back to me, a man sleeps where later bowls of noodles and soft drinks will be served. I marvel at (1) how he does this without rolling off, and (2) he must be either very thin or short to be able to fit there. He does not become rat food…this night.

A pair of westerners jog by in designer gear. Tourists, they look out of place. Then again, I probably do, too, even though I don’t feel it. I’ve been coming here on and off since 1989, before the city was even returned to the Chinese.

I reach the end of my circuit and reverse course. The sun is higher. It’s getting hot. The first ferry of the day chugs away from the pier belching black smoke. The elderly still exercise, each in a trance of movement. The sleeping man is now gone. And down where I saw the rat, a woman kneels, an empty can of cat food on the sidewalk next to her as she slides food on a piece of paper under the chain link fence. I’ve seen people feed pigeons and squirrels, but never rats. Now at least I know why they grew so big.

Public Agitation

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So, when I’m not writing, I’m exercising my right to free speech. Check out your fav United pilot at her very first picketing event. (Photo taken at the state capitol, Sacramento, CA.)

There were about 30 other pilots there to help get the word out about the loss of our pensions.

A Very Mute New Year's Eve…and a Monkey

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Happy New Year to all!

I ended up with a trip flying to Hong Kong over New Years. We left San Francisco on December 30th and arrived about 7 pm New Year’s Eve in Hong Kong. I was really looking forward to being out and about that evening to see how NYE is celebrated there. In particular, I was hoping to see the fireworks. Many times spontaneously, there will be fireworks shows at 8 pm above the city buildings ringing the harbor with the skyscrapers themselves playing a role with a light show. Did you ever see that YouTube video of the house decorated for Christmas, and the lights changing to the tune and beat of the music of the TransSiberian Orchestra? That’s what it reminds me of.

The crossing to HK was notable for two reasons. First, during the flight, we received a terror alert of almost the highest level. It began with a message from United via our onboard computers that asked for all the flights to check in immediately. These procedures were adopted after 9-11 and I can only describe them in the vaguest of ways here, unfortunately. We train for receiving the messages, but I’ve never done it for real. So we get the demand to check in, then learn some minutes later that the alarm was triggered by an incident on a domestic plane where a man was standing in the aisle in front of a woman and child and…how can I say this in a family blog…whacking the monkey. He refused to stop until he was, um, done. Apparently a struggle ensued, triggering the alert to all UAL planes. Definitely a first for us. The guy’s probably looking at a court date and some creative ‘splainin to do once he gets home. (And here I thought the only danger was that you could go blind…)

Second, I lost my voice. I had a bit of a sore throat, but didn’t think much of it. Took my Airborne and went on my way. But during the nearly FIFTEEN HOUR FLIGHT it worsened into laryngitis, and all I could do was whisper. So, I didn’t go out. No sense whispering in a noisy bar. When I walked into my gorgeous suite overlooking Hong Kong Harbor, I knew I’d made the right choice. Here’s a shot of some of the buildings decorated for the holidays. Note the green and red light borders:

Apparently on NYE, they do the fireworks at a shopping center 10 minutes from the hotel. For this tired pup, that was too far to go. In fact, after being up around 24 hours, I fell asleep about a quarter to midnight only to be jolted awake by what sounded like every car horn in Hong Kong blaring. I jumped up and got this shot of what little fireworks there were:

The next morning, sipping coffee and savoring the fine view:

When we do these uber-long flights, we bring 4 pilots. Two sit at the controls and two behind them. After take-off the relief pilots, aka “the bunkies” whose job is to relieve the flying pilots halfway through the flight retreat to the bunkroom to go to sleep. A bunch of people asked me where we actually sleep on our breaks that on the longer flights like this one can be as much as 6 and a half hours long. Here’s what the bunk room and the bunk beds look like. They are in a sound-proofed room inside the cockpit:

Well, it’s not the Westin but it beats a coach seat, yes?

Next up this month: Osaka, Japan and Shanghai, China. Wishing a happy and healthy 2008 to all!

A Stroll in Sydney–with Bats!

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Last week when I was in Sydney, Australia, I took my usual long walk/hike in the Botanical Gardens . It’s close to my hotel and right downtown on the harbor. I just love this place.

I started out walking toward the opera house. Look at the immensity of the building and the texture of the “shells”:

Here’s a view of Sydney you usually don’t see. Looks tropical, doesn’t it? And so modern. Lovely. This is a view from a path in the gardens:

Look at the trees in the gardens! They’re HUGE. This one’s bigger than my entire back yard:

I developed a fascination with the bark of the various trees. It’s like a fingerprint; each trunk is unique. Here are a few shots:

Along the way I came upon a flock of cockatiels grazing! At home I see these only in cages. They were adorable:

Once of the most fascinating creatures in the park (other than the muscled male Aussie joggers, that is) are the resident fruit bats. Look at them all! They fill the trees! The first time I saw them I couldn’t believe it. One of these days, if I won’t get trapped inside the gates, I’d love to be there at dusk when they take flight:

They really ARE cute, like little foxes with wings:


I zoomed in and discovered something I hadn’t realized–They don’t really hold on with their feet/claws. That’s probably just for reassurance. They have these little hooks on the “elbow” of their wings. Is that cool or what?

I hope you enjoyed going on the nature walk through the botanical gardens with me. Happy Halloween!

PS–I thought you might enjoy this video of my Academy roommate’s daughter, now a cadet herself, jumping out of a plane!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fk9D84cWtxw]

Blood Sausage Update

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When I was in Sydney over the weekend, I ate at the buffet in the hotel where months ago I was tricked into eating Blood Sausage because it was labeled deceptively as Black Pudding…and it had been removed from the items! Could it be that my blog influenced the menu planners? Were they ashamed at tricking non-UK visitors who assume pudding means pudding? In its place was “stuffed mushrooms.” They looked like mushrooms, and tasted like mushrooms, stuffed with cheese that seemed to be cheese and not some organ meat or bodily fluid from livestock. If anyone knows another name for “stuffed mushrooms”…don’t tell me.

Good morning, Vietnam

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For a few years now United has flown to Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) in Vietnam. I never had the opportunity to fly this trip, and truly that was fine by me–it is six days of work on the opposite side of the clock in heat and humidity and thunderstorms with low pay for high hours away from home (I got a mortgage and kids) and no thanks!–but this month the trip appeared in my schedule all on its own (a consequence of being relatively junior on the seniority list, sometimes your schedule surprises you!). Working over Labor Day weekend notwithstanding, I was actually excited to see another place I’d never been.

On the first day, we flew from San Francisco to Hong Kong, arriving in the evening. This is one of my favorite hotels for a layover. It’s on Hong Kong island with fantastic views of the harbor. If you are lucky enough to get a high floor (this time I was on the 31st) it’s like being up in an airplane. I always sleep with the blinds open because the city looks like gemstones, sparkling against a sky and water that takes on all the colors of the sunset and sunrise.



I can sit at the window and watch the harbor for hours. In this photo, I loved the contrast of this junk sailing by the cargo ship sailing by the cruise ship:

The next afternoon we flew to Saigon. (The real name is Ho Chi Minh City, but the airport identifier is “SGN” so we all call it Saigon. I later learned the locals call the central downtown area Saigon and the outlying sprawl Ho Chi Minh.) It’s a quick flight, only about 2.5 hours, but it’s in the middle of the night body-clock time and that makes it harder, especially since there are no relief pilots on such a short leg to do all the other duties, so my workload as a first officer is effectively doubled. I did not nap well, so felt even more tired. But oh, well! (I’m not whining; I’m just sayin’) Anyway, I knew we’d be down there in no time with thoughts of a cold beer as a reward after we arrived. The captain had flown to Saigon many times. You take off out of Hong Kong, fly over the China Sea, then you are there. United dispatch warned us that they saw thunderstorms all up and down the coast and solidly all over the south of Vietnam. None of it panned out, though. The airport was mostly clear and the skies amazingly empty. The captain likened it to coming in to Des Moines in the middle of the night–you are the only one on approach–and I agree! Except that jungle below us looked pretty dark, and I don’t remember corn fields looking quite that desolate.

The terminal was brand new–I mean like Opening-Day new. It was its second day in operation. Apparently the contrast between this terminal and the old one is marked, according to the crew I flew with who had been there many times. As I would soon learn, it is the dawn of a new era for Vietnam, especially Ho Chi Minh City. What it looks like today will not be the way it looks in ten years.

I managed to sleep about 5 or 6 hours, not so easy on the opposite side of the clock, but I feel rested. The room feels humid. The next morning, this is the view from my hotel. Times Square Flat Iron building, Saigon style!

I ate a traditional local breakfast (as I try to do in all the places I visit). A Vietnamese breakfast consists of Pho (pronounced “fuh”) which is rice noodles in a delicious meat-based broth with chicken (or beef) into which you add basil leaves, raw bean spouts, chilis, and these other leaves I had no idea what but they tasted good. Vietnamese coffee is a city favorite; people were drinking it hot and cold all day in cafes all over the city. It’s thick, caught-in-your-teeth thick, and you pour syrupy condensed milk in it that makes it creamy and very sweet. Woke me right up!

I hit the ATM in the lobby for some dong, the local currency. It is about 16,800 dong per dollar. I took out a…million. So for a mere 60 USD, I was a millionaire for a day!!! Though it did feel awkward offering others dong, “do you want to see my dong? My dong is bigger than your dong”) Then it was time for sight-seeing. First, the old presidential palace which is now a museum.

For some reason, there were soooo many chairs, all beautiful and Chinese style, in every color, all over the buildings.

The museum was pretty much a boring bust…except the basement, which was used as a bomb shelter. It’s like a time warp, with rooms filled with 1960s and 70s vintage electronics.

Apparently these tunnels, closed to visitors, lead to the Saigon River and other places under the city, at one time, an escape route for the president:

One of the more unusual collections I’ve seen. I’ve heard of glass frogs and ceramic roosters…but (real) elephants’ feet?

On the roof, a replica of the helicopter the president would have used for escape. Note the red targets. I’ll talk about those next:

OK, the targets. In 1975, in the fall of Saigon (or when Saigon was liberated, depending on your perspective, of course)double agent/pilot Nguyen took a USAF-made jet and dropped a bomb through the roof of the presidential palace. He was an instant hero. Where the bomb fell is commemorated here…and there, by red targets. Nguyen is now a high-level airline exec for Vietnam Airlines, I hear:

Then it was back outside and into the traffic, which endlessly fascinated me. I’ve been to A LOT of cities, but never have I seen so MANY vehicles filling the streets, even in Manila with its Mad-Maxian jitneys. I crossed a street only once during my stay, and hope I live to never have to do that again. “Don’t make eye contact with the drivers and don’t stop” was the advice given to me by a local to use when crossing:

The whole family can ride on one scooter:

You weren’t safe off the streets, either. The scooters zipped across sidewalks, too, just like in Taipei and other cities, but here they even zoomed into stores, which of course makes parking oh-so convenient.

Throughout the city, there would be random spoils of war displayed. For instance, this USAF F-5 in front of an administrative building.

I arrive at the Remnants of War Museum, formerly known as the American War Crimes Museum. There were three main buildings. One is just for photos, pretty horrific many of them, including a bunch of pics of people being tortured and the offspring of Agent Orange victims, horrible deformed, as well as US planes and soldiers getting blown to bits.


Internment as art. Despressing as the concept is, I found the cement, glass shards and barbed wire interesting on an artistic level:

These are the “Tiger Cages” where many were imprisoned and tortured, complete with photos and actual gear used. Like the Topography of Terror museum in Berlin, I found this museum disturbing and depressing–not for seeing what the USA did, but knowing all sides do horrific things to other humans in all wars; it doesn’t matter whose side you’re on.

More spoils on display:

Adding to the despressing atmosphere was the third world with a capital “T” surroundings. After a while it was all too claustrophobic and I bailed out.

Back outside into the traffic again!


There were many examples of French/colonial architecture throughout the city:

This is the Notre Dame Cathedral, contructed entirely of stone brought from France in the early 19th century:

When I was there, a couple was taking their wedding pics outside. They hadn’t gotten married there. It’s just a tradition to take wedding photos at various famous locations around town. They do this sort of thing in St. Petersburg, too, I remember.

The post office. Famous for being leftover from French Days:

My impressions of the city after that one long day of sight-seeing? It’s far behind other Asian cities in modernizing, woefully far behind, very “third world”, but seems poised on the threshhold of becoming a real player in the economics of the region. In ten years, I can see it looking VERY different, skyscrapers in a business district, etc. I can recall being in Beijing back in 1989, and it looked a lot like Saigon in many ways. Now you can hardly recognize the city. Case in point, the new airport terminal. I did love mingling with the people. My guide told me that something near 80 percent of the population is under 30. Everyone acted extremely friendly, and if you showed any interest at all in the culture and food, they were so happy to explain and help.

I possess a low maintenance body. Most of the time I don’t worry about what I eat. Something must have gotten to me, though, because the next morning when it was time to leave for the airport to fly back to Hong Kong (3:30 am wake-up call!) I had myself a good case of “diya-leer” as the lady making the announcements in the Tokyo airport calls it. A sick pilot takes some coordination–not to mention self-discipline–when you are the one flying the plane. I used the lav just before take-off, and, sweating, waited for 18,000 feet so I could tear off my seat harnesses and get back to the lav! New anti-terror procedures require a barrier to be pulled across the small hallway between the lavs and the cabin on the upper deck, which is where the 747 cockpit is located. It’s new and none of the flight attendants are real comfortable with erecting the barrier just yet. Picture me hopping and sweating until that barrier was up. Not pretty! When I got back to Hong Kong, I was so happy for the modern, air-conditioned hotel room and slept
the rest of the day.

The next morning it was time to fly home and I was as good as new.