I hate airline travel. It is all so tedious, the drive to the airport, parking, taking the shuttle to the terminal, the checking-in line, the security line ritual with TSA and then the wait for your flight in the usually crowded gate area, sitting in a cramped plane for some hours, and the process at the destination, such as waiting for your bag at the carousel, and getting to the taxi cab location. The only redeeming feature is that it gets you to your destination so much more quickly than any other way. In my case, if I can drive to my destination in six or seven hours (about 400 miles), I prefer to do so since the total travel time is about the same and the aggravation is much less.
Of all the above listed discomforts of air travel, the one that I find least tedious is the waiting at the gate. If the seats are reasonably comfortable and I have access to an electrical outlet in case my computer battery runs low and the wi-fi is decent and free, I am fine waiting for even a few hours in case of a layover or flight delays. If the seats on either side of me are vacant, I consider that a nice bonus.
In walking through the terminals, I have noticed the existence of places labeled ‘lounges’ with various identifiers of airlines attached, suggesting that they are only accessible to people with some sort of membership pass. But in this amusing article by Zach Helfand, he informs me that there is an entire world behind those portals that are sought out by the wealthy and not-so-wealthy who prefer not to hobnob with the hoi polloi that make up the people in the concourses. These places offer plush surroundings, comfortable chairs, fancy food, drinks, massages, facials, manicures, spas, even pool tables and actual swimming pools.
There is a competition among airlines to use this private lounge access as a way to get more money, exclusivity being the appeal.
Ryan was diamond-medallion tier on Delta, but this did not afford him admission to any of the three Delta lounges at J.F.K. “If you’re platinum or diamond medallion on Delta and travelling internationally, you’re allowed into the Virgin Clubhouse but not the Delta Sky Club, unless you’re flying Delta One,” he said. “Delta is very judgy. They make you feel like you did something special to get in, to be worthy.”
…Like Venice or the “Mona Lisa,” lounges can become victims of their own appeal. Initially, the lounge glasnost was a letdown. People expected the Elizabeth Taylor movie “The V.I.P.s,” which was set in a Heathrow lounge where white-tuxedoed servers carried trays of champagne and patrons discussed tax shelters. Instead, they got “bad hummus and sweaty pretzels,” Greenberg, the travel editor, said. At least you could get in. The more lounges improved, the more crowded they became—lounge gentrification. It’s not uncommon to see a lounge line snaking through the concourse. Inside, seats are scarce. The difference between out there and in here can be blurry—shoe taker-offers, phone talkers, seat hoggers. There are ninety-minute waits for Delta Sky Clubs, standby lists at Chase Sapphire lounges. Queuers would rather sit on the floor than skip the lounge for a chair at the gate, a desperation that might have something to do with Instagram envy, inequality, or an overabundance of premium-economy professionals with business-class expectations. The reason for the lines is obvious: the airlines started letting more people in.
…Lounge purveyors view overcrowding as a grave long-term threat. To address it, Delta recently changed its admission policies, capping the number of annual visits and prioritizing American Express passengers. United has a similar policy with Chase. The airlines are also increasing supply. Emirates’ business-class lounge in Dubai is a hundred thousand square feet, which is significantly larger than J.F.K.’s original terminal. United is building a lounge in Houston that will be fifty thousand square feet. “It’s a little bit larger than a football field,” Aaron McMillan, who runs United’s hospitality programs, told me. The only space they could find big enough to mock up the floor plan was an airplane hangar.
I keep getting credit card offers that are tied in with airlines. It appears that these tie-ins are highly profitable for airlines, especially when they are tied in with lounge access.
Credit-card deals have become the core of the airline industry. During the pandemic, United’s mileage program, built around its partnership with Chase, was valued at around twenty billion dollars; the rest of the business—the passenger part—was ten billion dollars underwater. Annually, charges on Delta’s American Express cards total about one per cent of the U.S. G.D.P. (“It’s amazing how much money people will spend for a free flight,” Harteveldt observed.) In most years, the programs account for much of the airlines’ profits. This year, Delta’s card will earn the company eight billion dollars. Why do people sign up for the cards? “Lounge access is the No. 1 reason,” a Delta executive recently said, of their Reserve card. Since the airline business is largely a credit-card-loyalty business, and since the credit-card-loyalty business is largely a lounge business, it’s only a minor stretch to think of Delta or United as lounge companies that also fly planes. In Atlanta alone, there are two lounges that together cost more than a hundred million dollars to build.
Then there are those additional lounge perks that, for a price, will let you avoid all contact with the masses at the airports.
The fancier the lounge, the less the lounge goer has to interact with the actual airport. “We have Porsches,” Hiroko told me, by the windows. “You see them down below?” She led me to the tarmac, where there was a fleet of six cars. For an extra five hundred and fifty dollars, Delta will drive you straight to the plane and pick you up on the other end.
…In the U.S., the best you can do is P.S., short for “private suite,” which houses its lounges in bespoke buildings far away from the terminal so that you never even have to deal with the airport at all. (Their tarmac cars are BMWs.) … You still have to go through T.S.A. and customs, but they feel more like the help you’ve invited into your home. “For example, when you approach C.B.P., the podium is actually a custom piece of furniture that we’re designing with them,” Liu said. Each departure and arrival with P. S. costs thirteen hundred dollars. (For an extra sixteen hundred and fifty dollars per person, a car will pick you up directly from the plane and drop you off at your final destination.) “I don’t know where you live,” Liu told me, “but you really should try it.”
Alas, as with all such attempts at keeping up with the Joneses, the Joneses just keep raising the bar.
The thing about lounging is that it’s impossible to lounge without worrying that someone, somewhere, is lounging better. My swordfish was, frankly, perfect, but would it have been even more perfect in Frankfurt, where Lufthansa has an entire first-class terminal whose restaurant has items from all of the cities in its route system flown in fresh daily? Had I missed out on the best lounge without even knowing it? The Virgin Clubhouse at Heathrow used to have a hydrotherapy, bath-steam, room-tanning, booth-ski simulator, and a four-hole putting green with a sand trap.
All this is clearly meant to be more than being in comfort for the few hours waiting for one’s flight. It is also to enable people to feel superior to the rest of us. I can see why airlines encourage this as it gives them an additional source of revenue. Less understandable is why so many people, even those who are not so wealthy, buy into it. It seems like an awful lot of trouble to spare oneself a couple of hours of being in proximity with ordinary people.
I fly three or four times a year internationally, which means extra early arrival at the airport. Being able to sit in a lounge and get nibbles is more comfortable to me than sitting at the gate. Doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just a seat, a table, and something to snack on while I idle away the time.
Oh for goodness sake! I agree with efogoto: I was sent a ticket for an international flight once, and it allowed me to sit in a lounge during the layover. It was quiet and had reasonably comfortable chairs, and some fresh fruit to eat. I liked it, but that is *all* it had, and I don’t need anything else.
When did this become a status symbol? And, *why*? I seem to have missed a memo. Also, isn’t it a bit risky to go to a lounge, where you might miss the announcement that they are changing your gate?
Airlines now make the most revenue off of credit cards, eh? Remember when their jobs were to fly you from place to place? They don’t seem to. I’m not quite sure what that means, though: do they make all this money off of credit cards because people keep balances on them and pay them ruinous interest?
Airlines have deteriorated to, really, the worst companies that exist. I would much rather deal with the IRS than an airline, and, when people are playing that “What if you were rich, what would you do?” game, I immediately say that the one and only thing I would do is to buy a private jet. Not for the luxury or the statues, but only so that I’d never have to deal with an airline again.
I’ve decided that I won’t be flying from my house to my parents’ anymore, I’ll be driving. It’s a 12-hour drive, it’ll take two days, but then, so does flying, and at least my luggage will get there the same time I do.
@2 garnetstart: The airlines are making most of the money of the airline miles. They sell the miles to credit cards and other organizations to hand out as rewards. The difference between what they charge for the miles and what it actually costs to fulfill requests with those airline miles is the profit. Because of the amount of miles not used, just lost or used inefficiently they make a lot of money on airline miles.
Back when I was regularly participating in the ISO standards committee for the C++ programming language, I’d travel to meetings three time per year which could be almost anywhere in North America or Europe. That was all I spent my “fun money” on, so I was able to travel first-class. That got me access to first-class lounges in most places. Like efogoto@1, I liked it, not for status or anything like that, but for a comfortable seat, edibles and potables of some kind, and a place to set up my laptop.
In the U.S., I’d usually get a sleeper on an Amtrak train; and that got me into the Metropolitan Lounge in Chicago Union Station where I would almost always have to change trains. There are also Met. Lounges in several of the larger stations on the Northeat Corridor for passengers with sleeper tickets on overnight trains and first-class tickets on Acela Express trains. I’ve used the Met. Lounges in Boston South Station, New York Penn Station, Philadelphia 30th Street Station, and D.C. Union Station.
I’d usually fly Icelandair across the Pond because I’d change planes in Keflavík and so could get off the plane and walk around near the middle of the trip. I’d fly Saga Class, what they call their business class, which would get me into the Saga Class lounge at KEF, and usually some other airline’s first-class lounge in Boston and whatever airport I was using in Europe.
Now that I’m retired and starting to have some medical expenses, I can’t afford that anymore; and I’ve been attending the meetings via Zoom.
@2 garnetstar: “Also, isn’t it a bit risky to go to a lounge, where you might miss the announcement that they are changing your gate?”
For an extra $550 you don’t have to go to the gate.
Well, you see, a bunch of Americans felt scared 24 years ago, so because of that going through an airport must be a universally debasing experience that eats away at your mental health. Then some airports got the bright idea of having some people pay more money to have a slightly less shitty experience. No guarantees, of course, just the illusion of money well spent.
One word answer: idiocy.
I like my solitude. I’ve travelled to a couple of dozen countries by air, and the one and only time I’ve been unable to find solitude in an airport (i.e. a seat on my own less than five minutes’ walk from my gate) was in Narita when the airport had been shut down for 24 hours due to snow in January 2006. Fortunately there were hardly any Americans there, the airport being almost entirely full of Japanese people, so everyone was calm, quiet and polite. It did also help that in a crowd of about a quarter of a million people I was tallest, fattest man I could see in any direction at any given time. I’ve been in the business class lounge, and they’re nice enough, but it’s the difference between that big, comfy seat in the cinema that you pay extra for and the barely distinguishable seat directly behind it. Unless you’re obsessed with status -- not worth it.
A couple of observations:
I missed a flight once because we went to the gate, and they changed the gate without announcing it. There was no tannoy, no information screen within five minutes walk of the gate, and no staff of any kind at or near the gate we were at (why would there be? There was no flight leaving from there, even though IT WAS PRINTED ON OUR BOARDING PASSES). With ten minutes to go my colleague and I made the walk to central information and asked when the gate would open. We were informed that it had already CLOSED. Long story short, we were booked on the next flight out and spent the intervening time in the best lounge the airport had to offer, eating the free food and drinking the free champagne. I can be very persuasive when I know I’m right.
A friend was in a business class lounge once and someone came to find him to TELL him it was time to go to his gate. The plane wouldn’t leave without him, it seemed. THAT was probably worth the price of admission to some people, although I doubt that kind of behaviour persists in our enshittified world.
Tip for when this happens to you: a friend of a friend is a billionaire. I was chatting to the guy who manages his vehicle fleet, which includes a private jet and the helicopter I was about to board (billionaire was piloting it that day). I asked why he had both. Vehicle manager (a former Army Air Corp pilot himself) informed me that the heli is quickest if you want to go to e.g. Amsterdam, because you can just walk out of the house, get on and go, AND arrive at the place you’re actually going to rather than fucking about at airports. The jet is only for when you need to go to e.g. Rome, which is far enough away that the heli would have to stop to refuel on the way so you get the heli to the airport where the jet is, get the jet to Rome, and there’ll be a heli at Rome to take you to your actual destination. It was literally this guy’s entire job to make those kind of logistics happen -- that and make sure the heli and jet got their inspections done, flying them when needed, and managing the business of hiring them out when the boss didn’t need them. I was informed that the seat my sweaty arse was about to fill had previously supported the buttocks of, inter alia, Tony Blair and Beyonce (although not at the same time). It really is a different world those people live in.
Every time I try to take public transport of ANY kind (be it bus, train or aircraft) the people running the service make it VERY clear that they’d prefer me to drive my diesel car. So mostly, I do. (Exceptions: the trams in Manchester, the Underground in London, the Metro in Paris -- all excellent and far superior to any other way of getting into/out of/around those cities.)
I was just musing on “the VIP experience” this morning. Only not on flights, but in everyday life, and they’re being called VIP like the airlines’ lounges. To wit: tomorrow in my area, there’s a breakfast with Santa at a local venue. In the past, you bought your kid a ticket and they got to sit in a room with a guy dressed as Santa, who would make the rounds of all the tables and chat with the kids while they ate their pancakes. This year, they’re offering a “VIP experience” where--for an extra fee (and it’s not cheap), kids can “upgrade” several layers: to better food, or (for even more money) to a seat at Santa’s very table.
Additionally, this is Small Business Saturday, a fairly recent tradition of kicking off the gift-buying season by shopping at small businesses with local, mom & pop owners. Another venue is hosting a craft fair. For those who don’t know, a craft fair is where everyday people who make things (crafts, arts, jewelry, knitwork, snacks, self-published authors, etc.) can buy a table or two to display their wares and the public wanders around the tables with an eye to purchasing from the crafters. Usually they’re free (or a small donation) for the public to enter the venue. However, at this craft fair, people are urged to upgrade to the VIP experience, which gets them a room (with a DJ) and snacks--which directly undercuts the people trying to sell their fudge, cookies, and other holiday treats.
I’ve done a lot of international flying in the last few years, going on trips to exotic places, and it involves a lot of layovers and pickup meals and long waits and so forth. I would not pay much if anything for the lounges, but I can certainly understand liking it. We did get a lounge once on a complicated route to Scandinavia a couple of years ago, and got a comfortable place to sit and read, a good computer connection, and food and drink enough to substitute for an overpriced airport supper. If you have to wait for hours in an airport during a meal time, it almost makes sense. Not enough for the price, but almost.
But a lounge is a little like a super deluxe hotel room when all you’re going to do is come in to sleep and then leave again. Nice if you get it, but not worth paying extra for.
Back when trains were the way to go anywhere because there were no airlines, the same sorta things happened, only you could take your luxury lounge car *with* you.
Last time I flew back to Scotland after visiting family in Tasmania, I had a multi-hour layover in Doha, and paying for the entry-level lounge was absolutely worth it. Spending 26hrs in economy class is torture, so being able to break it up to have a decent shower, eat some real food, and sit in a really comfy chair in quiet and pleasant surroundings made the whole ghastly business much more tolerable. I wouldn’t think twice about doing it again.
Years ago I was at LAX with a work colleague. He flew much more frequently than I did and when we checked in they gave him a double pass to the airline’s first class lounge. It was all very nice, a la cart restaurant, open bar, that sort of thing. Halfway through our meal I saw one of our company’s directors walk in, we got along well so I went to say hello. My heart sank when another director and the CEO came around the corner behind him. Everyone loathed those two guys but I’d been seen so it was too late to back out. They both seemed a little put out that my colleague and I were in the lounge but after 5 minutes of awkward chitchat they went their way and we ours. Sure enough when we got home my colleague was called in to get the third degree about our presence in the lounge and abruptly informed it wasn’t to happen again. Apparently status symbols (even a free one in this case) are worthless without exclusivity. Much later I spoke about the incident to the director I did like, turns out he had to talk the CEO out of getting HR to give us an official reprimand. Kind of happy I don’t work there anymore