Cockpit Chronicles: Take your kid to work day!

by Kent Wien on

Cockpit Chronicles takes you along on each of Kent’s trips as a co-pilot on the Boeing 757 and 767 out of Boston.

“We’re going to try a new place to eat,” Doug, the captain said as I walked into operations.

While he waited for the dot matrix printer to spit out the twenty feet of paperwork needed for our flight, he filled me in on what was the plan was for Paris.

“Mike (the co-pilot) and I read a review on a New York Times blog about a really small restaurant up near the Arc de Triumph called Le Hide. I figured we’d give it a try.”

Crew members tend to have their own favorite places that they frequent. Sometimes it’s easy to get into a rut and not venture out very far to experience anything different. Not so for Doug. He’s on a quest to try a new restaurant almost every layover.

“This is my step-son, Mack. He’s coming with us tonight,” Doug said, as Mack stepped forward to shake my hand. “Mack has just turned 21 this week, so what better way to celebrate the occasion than to bring him along.”

I was starting to get flashbacks of Michelle’s daughter almost getting bumped from the last trip.

“Are we weight restricted?” I asked.
“Not at all. It’s wide open there and back.” Doug explained.

Doug gave Mack a tour of the cockpit while I did my FB duties, since I was again the relief pilot. I went outside and looked over the nose, landing gear areas including the tire pressures and worked my way clockwise around the airplane. Wings, engines, lights, wheel wells, tail skid, rudder, elevator–it looked like everything was all there, with no leaks or damage.

It’s easy to get complacent after looking at hundreds of airplanes that have nothing wrong with them. I try to challenge myself to catch something out of place, but everything looked fine.

After the obligatory pictures of Mack in the cockpit, I showed him how we set our airspeed bugs manually on the airspeed indicator. Each ‘bug’ represents the point where we can retract our flaps to the next lower level.

So after takeoff and above 1000 feet we nose the airplane over slightly and select climb power, which is a bit less than our takeoff power setting. As the speed accelerates we can then move the flaps, which change the shape of the wing. This allows us to go from a wing that’s optimized for the slow speeds needed at takeoff to a shape that would allow for a cruise speed at MACH .80 or 80% the speed of sound.

Departing at flaps fifteen, we’d then ask for flaps five, then flaps one and finally flaps up. At around 2500 feet above the ground, we’re all ‘cleaned up’ and ready to accelerate to 250 knots, which is the maximum speed the FAA allows below 10,000 feet.

Passing through 10,000 feet we can then accelerate to our climb speed, which would be around 320 knots tonight.

Since Mack already has a few hours under his belt, and he’s even soloed a small airplane, he quickly understood the concept and he even helped me to reach over and set Doug’s bugs. May as well make him useful.

The departure was uneventful, and I did my relief-pilot duty of dividing the flight into three parts of about an hour and fifty minutes each to divide up the breaks.

I was fortunate to be back in the cockpit during Mike, the copilot’s break, when we passed just south of Ireland as the sun was rising. I couldn’t help thinking how Lindbergh may have hit this exact part of Ireland, near the Dingle Peninsula, on his solo flight across the Atlantic.

I also thought of Ruthann, www.ruthannoconnor.com, who lives in a tiny village in Western Ireland. She’s been reading my blog almost since the beginning and she’s the one responsible for editing and proofreading everything I’ve written since coming over to Gadling.

Since the age of eleven, Ruthann has gone to sleep while listening on a VHF radio to Shanwick Air Traffic Control give out clearances to airplanes passing just above her house.

She still catches our flight every now and then, using a VHF or HF radio. I suppose you could say she’s an aviation nut–just take one look at her flickr pictures to get an idea. She plans to start flight training this fall in Florida.

After arriving in Paris, we went down the stairs near the top of the jetbridge and down to the waiting bus. After swinging around to pick up Doug’s step-son at the front of the terminal, we were on our way to the hotel.

The Saturday morning van ride took only 35 minutes–a far shorter ride than the hour and forty-five minute ride that’s common on weekdays.

Since this was the first trip of three 3-day Paris trips in a row, I figured I’d catch up on some sleep, so I arranged to meet Doug and Mack at a pub after a nice five hour ‘nap.’

Doug and Mack toured all over Paris, going all the way up to Montmartre, north of the city and finally ending up at a wine tasting event that’s held at the Dernier Goute, a wine store in the Latin Quarter.

I worked my way toward the pub where we’d meet up, stopping at my favorite creperie for a crepe Nutella. For me, it’s not an official Paris trip without a crepe Nutella.

Doug found a nice Irish pub right off the Seine called “Le Galway.” Since we both have GSM cell phones that work in Europe, he was able to send me text messages to let me know exactly how to find this pub.

Mike managed to find the meeting point as well, so we worked our way to the metro station where we’d eventually come out in front of the Arc de Triumph.

Doug had read some great reviews about a restaurant that was moderately priced, especially considering the quality. Le Hide is described by Alexander Lobrano of Gourmet magazine as “a fantastic new bistro run by genial Japanese chef Hide Kobayashi. I left looking forward to my next meal here, and since I’m not alone, make sure to reserve, since word is getting around on this one.“

We chose our appetizers and entrées, and left the desert choice for later. The prix fix meal was 29 Euros, which was great for such a prime location. As I’ve mentioned before, a pr
ix fix menu is made up of your choice of one of the starters, one main course and often a dessert.

I played it safe and ordered the Lyonnaise sausage over mashed potatoes, while Mike and Mack went for the escargot. Doug’s appetizer was the pan fried foie gras.

Doug and Mike insisted that I try their appetizers. I may have made a mistake in playing it safe, since I sampled a bit of Mike’s escargot and Doug’s foie gras, which were both out of this world.

For the main course, I had the pan-fried fillet of sole, and the others had either saute of chicken or veal chops in a butter sauce. That was all I needed to officially crown the French as having the best food in the world.

And we hadn’t even had desert by then.

Unfortunately, the battery in my camera died during our time in the city. Luckily Mack came to the rescue with some nice shots along the way. Thanks, Mack.

The next day, Mack came up to the cockpit once again during boarding to pose with Doug and Mike. I was busy doing the preflight, of course. I think he had a great time on his second trip to Paris with Doug.

Doug bought enough supplies to have a Parisian picnic in the cockpit on the way home, sans wine of course. We enjoyed some baguette and cheese, and some deli meat that had to be eaten before we arrived in Boston since the U.S. agricultural department doesn’t allow these kind of food items into the country.

We usually end up racing Air France flight 332 into Boston at the end of the leg. We generally beat them into Logan, which is important because U.S. customs occasionally prevents our passengers from deplaning until the crowd of people from other flights has cleared the customs area.

But this time, AF332, was just passing 2000 feet overhead as we prepared for our descent. Even though they managed to get a few miles ahead of us, Boston center decided that they’d give the Air France flight a 30 degree heading change to properly space the arrivals. That meant we’d be in the lead.

As I went to get my camera and take a picture of the second-place Air France jet, it slipped into the melted bucket of water that was once full of ice. I immediately yanked out the battery to prevent anything from shorting out.

Perhaps it’s just payback for taking the lead away from the faster Air France flight. But I’m happy to report that after drying out for 24 hours, the camera works fine.

Anytime you can take a family member or close friend on one of your trips, it hardly feels like work. I’m sure Doug was excited to bring Mack along. It was fun for all of us to experience the city through his eyes. I’m hoping that Mack continues flying, as I’d love to have him as my co-pilot someday.

Cockpit Chronicles takes you along on each of Kent’s trips as a co-pilot on the Boeing 757 and 767 out of Boston. For the months of May through July, he’ll focus on Paris almost exclusively. If you have any good suggestions for Parisian activities, feel free to leave your tips in the comments.

Cockpit Chronicles: A visit with France’s greatest pilot

by Kent Wien on

Cockpit Chronicles takes you along on each of Kent’s trips as a co-pilot on the Boeing 757 and 767 out of Boston.

“You’re not going to believe it, Kent.” Michelle, the purser (#1 flight attendant) said as I walked on the airplane.

“Lexi’s in the boarding area–did you see her?–anyway the agent says the flight is weight restricted and it’s not looking good for non-revs–and there’s no way I can leave my daughter here. The flight was supposed to be wide open!” she said.

When a flight is said to be ‘weight restricted,’ it’s usually because we have to take so much fuel due to weather at the destination that we aren’t able to take all the passengers. While the weather was going to be a bit foggy in Paris, I still couldn’t imagine the fuel load that wouldn’t allow us to use every seat on the airplane.
But it turns out the company had a last minute freight addition, which brought our total to 40,000 pounds of passenger bags and cargo.

This was a shock. I’ve never heard of a Paris flight that was weight restricted before. And I knew that the desire to get the flight out on time meant there was a chance that some of the passengers (mostly the non-revenue employees or their families) would be left behind.

If we could get the total cargo weight as soon as possible, we would then know exactly how many extra people we could get on.

“These things usually work out just fine,” I assured Michelle, who was looking very stressed out.

After doing the walkaround inspection, and getting a look at all the cargo containers to be loaded in the belly of the airplane, I told Captain Hank about the issue. We both went up the jetbridge to see how it was looking for the non-revs while the co-pilot, Bob finished up the cockpit preflight. At one point, not only did it look like we wouldn’t get the non-revenue passengers on board, but we might even have to take two passengers off the airplane. No one wants to be the person to tell a paying passenger that they have to get off because we had too much freight. That would have been completely unacceptable.

Finally, it was looking like we’d come in under weight by enough to get at least some of the people on board, but Hank told them to make sure we had the exact cargo figures before closing the door. We wanted to be certain that we didn’t leave anyone behind when we still had a few hundred pounds available. Normally the door is closed and while we’re taxiing out we would get a text message that prints up in the cockpit telling us how much we weigh and how many passengers are on board.

The agents were really helpful, and amazingly the total freight came in lighter than planned we managed to get everyone on, much to Michelle’s relief. Her seventeen year-old daughter Lexi would be able to enjoy a weekend trip with her mom.

We departed Boston on time and made it to Paris early, arriving at the CDG airport around 7:30. This was in spite of the fact that the fog had become rather thick at the airport, with 75 meters of visibility reported when we were still an hour from landing. This would have meant we’d have to fly a Cat III autoland, but luckily for Hank, who would be flying the approach, the weather lifted a bit and the visibility was fine for a hand-flown landing. Hank’s the kind of pilot who really enjoys flying the airplane and I knew he preferred not to have to set up for the autoland.

Since it was a weekend, the bus ride into the city was a rapid 35 minutes. At the hotel lobby everyone talked about their plans.

Michelle has been known to drag a few pilots out to see a museum, church or art exhibit on her layovers. I think it’s her way of forcing a little bit of culture on our yankee pilots. While it might be an offense worthy of deportation from France, I don’t particularly find art museums that interesting. But when Michelle drags me around Paris, it’s usually a lot of fun.

But I had some plans of my own. Every time I manage to get a Paris trip on my schedule, the first thing I’ll do is to email my friend Nicolas who lives in France, on the off chance that he may be passing through Paris.

I first met Nicolas six years ago, when my neighbor, Sonja, asked if we wouldn’t mind hosting a French exchange student for two weeks. My wife and I were both exchange students at one point in high school, so we jumped at the chance to host someone for a short time.

Nicolas wasn’t officially an exchange student. He was more of a friend of Sonja’s sister and he had hoped to come to the U.S. so he could improve his English before interviewing with Air France. He was 19-years-old when he came that summer and he ended up staying with us for nearly six weeks.

When he went back to France to interview for a pilot position at Air France, he was met with an amazing amount of competition. Air France, like some other European airlines, hires some pilots with little or no flight experience. Since the company pays for their flight training, it’s an extremely good deal. Unfortunately, Nicolas wasn’t hired.

He came back the next summer and we spent a good deal of time flying around the local area. We even made it to Oshkosh for the Experimental Aircraft Associations huge Airventure after I arranged for him to fly all the way to Wisconsin in an experimental airplane. These experiences stuck with him, and he was successful later that year in getting a flying position with the French Airforce.

So when he called to let me know that he’d be in Paris visiting his girlfriend’s family there, I was thrilled to get the chance to see him. On some of the previous Paris layovers, I’ve even taken a three-hour train ride to Nantes, on the west coast of France, to see where he lived and to meet his parents. On one of those layovers, we managed to rent a catamaran and had a great time sailing from a beach near Nantes.

Fortunately this layover would just involve dinner somewhere in the city. At least that’s what I thought the plan was. I told Nicolas that we could meet up somewhere after 2 p.m. since I really needed a good nap.

After waking from the nap and before heading out to see Nicolas, I ran into Michelle and her daughter who were ready to see tackle the city.

I met up with Nicolas and his girlfriend, Margaux, at a train station near our hotel. It was great to finally meet his girlifiend who’s a medical student in Nantes. She had plans to see her brother’s new apartment in the city, so we jumped on the metro and went to Gare de l’Est to find his place.

Before we walked from the train station to his place, we decided to get something to eat. Through a misunderstanding, Nicolas thought I really meant we’d eat lunch, instead of dinner, since he had a 6:45 P.M. train to catch back to Nantes. So this would be a short visit, indeed. Since it was a Sunday, the only thing we could find in the Gare de l’Est area was an American-themed restaurant called the Indiana cafe which appear to be popular near the major train stations in France.

They apologized for not finding something more exciting, but I was really just interested in catching up with Nicolas and meeting Margaux.

Nicolas just finished his flight training in an Alpha Jet in the French Air Force and he’s now awaiting his airplane assignment, which could range from a piston-engined primary trainer called an Epsilon all the way to a Mirage 2000 fighter. I’m looking forward to finding out what he’s eventually awarded.


The Alpha Jet Trainer

We finished up lunch, where they had chicken wings and I went for the burrito, before heading up the street to Margaux’s brother’s apartment. It’s nice to be able to see where people live in the city and I was thrilled to have the opportunity to see a Parisian apartment. I expected something a bit smaller, though. This place, while shared among three bachelors, was actually spacious. As is common in Paris, you enter a quiet courtyard first before going into one of the apartments.


Margaux’s brother Alban, showed us his electronic drum kit. He played a bit for us and we were very impressed with his talent. Best of all, he could practice with headphones on so he wouldn’t disturb his roommates.

It was suggested that we take a quick walk toward the train station to sit down in the wonderful weather at an outdoor pub. We chatted for a while and I enjoyed trying to stretch my French vocabulary.

The three of us said goodbye to Alban and jumped on the metro. I’ve noticed that the metro is much more crowded this year than when I first started coming to Paris in 2002. This ride was no exception, but at least it wasn’t as bad as some of the trains in Asia.

Nicolas and Margaux got off at the Montparnasse stop and I continued on to the hotel. I couldn’t believe I’d have the luxury of an entire evening to get some posts done. And after the excitement from the previous trip, I was very content to pick up a ham and cheese baguette to take back to my room.

The next day the crew caught up on what everyone did on their layovers. Michelle and Lexi visited the American Church where Michelle was married. If anyone could figure out a way to be married in such an amazing location, it would be Michelle. Unfortunately the church was closed, but when Michelle told a staff member that she had been married there years ago, they allowed them inside for a private showing. It really made their trip.

Michelle was so appreciative to the captain and I for doing what we could to make sure her daughter got on the flight that she gave us a box of amazing (and I’m sure, far too expensive) chocolates.

There’s a little more paperwork involved in flying across the Atlantic than on your typical domestic trip. It’s usually brought to the cockpit and includes:

  • The flight plan – which shows where we’ll be flying, how high we’re planned to fly and how much time and fuel we’ll have remaining. This flight plan is only a guide. ATC might give us a different altitude or even a different routing.

  • Track Message – Every day the North Atlantic Track system (NAT) is made up of five parallel routes that are optimized for the forecasted winds. Since they change twice a day, we are careful to crosscheck our route of flight to make sure it matches the track message.

  • The TPS – A printout that shows the flap setting, the takeoff speeds and the power settings that will be used for a given runway.

  • The weather – A detailed look at the current weather and the forecast for the destination and any alternate airports.

  • Company messages and FAA notices – Any recent changes at the departure or destination airports or any operational changes for the flight.

  • A large map with the waypoints marked for our planned route of flight.

I can’t help wondering how much extra freight we could carry if we didn’t have to take along all this paperwork!

Cockpit Chronicles takes you along on each of Kent’s trips as a co-pilot on the Boeing 757 and 767 out of Boston.

Gadling TAKE FIVE: Week of June 6–June 13

by Jamie Rhein on

Sorry to have missed last week’s Take FIVE post, but I was off in Hocking Hills, Ohio without WiFi, something I didn’t expect. In a few hours I’ll be heading to Tennessee. Who knows what will happen when I leave the house? Therefore, here’s this week’s Take Five before I go.

With summer travel comes footwear choices. Abha, Iva and Heather all had something to say about shoes. Flip-flops, Crocs or stew shoes? Which ones are safer? What about fashion?

Along with thinking about footwear options, summer is a time you can learn new things. Matthew has some suggestions for singing karaoke with the best of them. And, Aaron passes along tips about a Turkish bath.

Since I missed last week, here are a few more summer tidbits. Erik offers up sunburn advice, Kent knows just how to savor a meal in Paris and Jeremy provides details about GPS and location services to help you get where you’re going.

Happy Friday the 13th, Happy Father’s Day, and enjoy the weekend. As for me, I have to pack.

Cockpit Chronicles: Paris – A trip to satisfy the taste buds

by Kent Wien on

Cockpit Chronicles takes you along on each of Kent’s trips as a co-pilot on the Boeing 757 and 767 out of Boston.

I’d like to welcome Gadling’s latest blogger, Heather Poole and her feature, Galley Gossip. Gadling had been looking for a flight attendant’s perspective of this industry and I’m glad they found it in Heather. If you haven’t read any of her posts, I highly recommend “Sandvich Girl,” which details a little of her past before she gave it all up to join the nomadic existence of a crew member. I’ve passed along her posts to my sister, who’s a flight attendant for an airline that sports an Eskimo on its tail and to my wife, who worked for 6 years as a flight attendant and they could both relate to her immediately.

I think bloggers often get inspiration and motivation when reading the comments to posts. Heather’s post called “Answer Please” made it around the world a few times and, judging from the comments, she was a bit misunderstood. She pointed out one annoyance with her job, an issue I’ve heard from many flight attendants; with iPods and movie earphones plugged in, it’s often hard to get a passenger’s attention to offer them a drink.

Many of the readers thought she was being ungrateful for her job or just complaining too much, but that’s part of why she writes. She’s trying to give an insight into the good and the bad of her job. And she cracks me up.
One thing I’ve noticed from the comments on posts relating to airline crews here on Gadling was that some people are under a bit of a misconception about layovers and the nature of our jobs. We’re not usually out partying with the flight attendants after we get somewhere. We’re often exhausted and particularly on domestic trips, we have to get up early the next day for what could be a full day. So there’s little time for much more than a bite to eat and that may or may not be with another pilot or flight attendant.

I’m fortunate to have a wife who understands the realities of my job. And I suspect readers of the Cockpit Chronicles have a good idea as well. Pilots and flight attendants are often more interested in a good meal and a quiet hotel room than anything else.

But every now and then, there can be some great layovers, and the latest Paris trip was one of the best I’ve had in a long time. Sometimes a crew just clicks, and that was certainly the case on this trip. While I knew most of the flight attendants from previous flights over the years, I had never flown with the Captain or the FB (relief pilot).

Captain Doug and the FB, Clay, have been flying to Paris together on their last five trips. They had done their research on the restaurants they wanted to try and they had this trip planned out well in advance. One of the flight attendants made reservations for the entire crew at a small restaurant called Les Papilles (review) near the Luxembourg Gardens.

I’m always up for a new restaurant, especially when someone else makes the plans.

Another flight attendant, Stephanie, was celebrating her birthday so that was as good an excuse as any to make it a fun evening. Eight of us met up at 5 p.m. in the hotel lobby before walking to Rue Mouffetard, an area that’s quickly becoming my favorite in Paris. The narrow street is lined with shops, creperies and restaurants. The prices seem a bit less than the Latin Quarter where we ate on the last trip, which makes sense, because Mouffetard is a mile or so south of the Seine and isn’t as centrally located.

We walked a good thirty minutes before arriving at Doug’s favorite pub, the Mayflower. Since the weather was a perfect 75 degrees F, we enjoyed a table outside on the sidewalk. I was thrilled to see Guinness available during the happy hour for a somewhat reasonable $7.

It was easy to see that this group enjoyed working together. Even though I hadn’t flown with the captain, we’ve known each other for years, and Clay the FB was the kind of guy I could enjoy flying an entire month with. And the flight attendants were some of my favorites from past trips. There was only one that I hadn’t flown with before.

Before leaving the Mayflower, I thought it would be fun for everyone to answer a simple question. “Where were you born?”

This turned into a fascinating way to learn more about some of the people who we’ve flown with so many times, but were unable to really get to know. After almost an hour of laughter and stories, we discovered not only where everyone was from, but interesting anecdotes about their family histories.

We would have to continue these stories at the restaurant if we were to make our dinner reservation. After just a few minutes we arrived at Les Papilles, which means The Taste Buds in French. I was shocked to find that we were given an entire private room downstairs lined with bottles of wine that was stacked all the way up the stair and on one entire side of the wall.

Beth, the flight attendant who made the reservations, met us at the end of the table.

Three other flight attendants joined us and the birthplace questioning continued until the appetizer arrived. I sipped on some sort of red wine during dinner. I’m a complete novice when it comes to wine. Red, white–heck, I might even be able to identify a Rosé, but that’s about the extent of my wine knowledge. Since wine is far more common in France than even water, every dinner includes a bottle that’s usually split among two to four people.

Les Papilles was, in fact, a restaurant that also included a retail wine store along its walls. The meal choice is limited to one entree choice each night. So for our visit on a Saturday night, we were served a shoulder of lamb and vegetables after the cold soup starter.

The vegetables were simply amazing, with an intense flavor that caught me a little off guard. The Lamb crumbled like cake and tasted equally as good. This wasn’t the usual prix fixe menu restaurant.

I think Steph had a good time celebrating her birthday with the rest of the crew. The eleven of us enjoyed the atmosphere and the ability to laugh and tell stories in the private room without worrying about intruding on a romantic dinner for a couple that might have otherwise been sitting nearby.

The only quiet moment came near the end of the evening when we were presented with the bill. The silence was deafening when Chris said it was 770 Euros or $1200. I suppose we’re just not used to getting a bill for eleven meals. We divided it all up and decided while it was well worth it, the dinner wasn’t something we could afford to do on every Paris trip.

We had a chance to meet the chef later in the evening and when someone asked him how long the Lamb is cooked, he responded in his limited English, “Six Days.”

I think he meant six hours?

Occasionally we heard some faint bursts of laughter upstairs as well. When we went upstairs there were just three gentlemen left up there. Their group had the entire upstairs of the restaurant, for a dinner party for what may have been the entire Grand Marnier company.

We began to chat with the three executives at the company who then offered us a taste of the most exclusive cognac they make. A 50-year-old cognac called the Cuvée Speciale Cent Cinquantenaire. This Grand Marnier was previously marketed under the slogan “Hard to find, impossible to pronounce, and prohibitively expensive.”

We had no idea how exclusive this drink was while we each sipped a complimentary glass. Everyone who tried it thought it was absolutely delicious. One look at the hand painted flowers on the bottle and I knew this wouldn’t be available at the Monoprix. What a nice way to finish off our evening. Special thanks to the family run company, Grand Marnier, for their generosity.

We walked back to the hotel as a group, and watched the lights sparkle on the Eiffel Tower. This light show was originally designed for the millennium and now it’s possible to see this spectacular display every night for the first five minutes of each hour until midnight. I consider it rather lucky to catch this every now and then.

We passed by a window of some sort and I couldn’t help take a picture. A bit messy, no? I loved the ten year old iMac sitting opposite the new iMac. But do you really think they’re using them to stay organized?

Back at the hotel, I did my best to stay awake a few more hours to be sure I’d be able to sleep all the way through the night. There’s a period at about 11 p.m. where I’m just ready to sleep, but since that’s only 5 p.m. at home, there’s no way I’d be able to sleep all the way through. If I can make it to about 1 or 2 a.m. Paris time, I’ll be able to sleep for nine hours straight before pickup. Sure enough, I managed a good night’s sleep. That and an especially great dinner, what more could we ask for?

The next afternoon, during the captain’s briefing with the crew, we all joined in a chorus of Happy Birthday for Steph. Clay took the opportunity after the singing to thank everyone for making it such an enjoyable trip. It was even a trip worthy of a group photo.

About an hour out of Paris, we flew over Ireland. It’s probably more rare to see Ireland on a clear day than it is to catch the lights sparkle on the Eiffel Tower, but this time we had a nice view of County Donegal and the Donegal airport. See if you can pick out the runway below.

Cockpit Chronicles takes you along on each of Kent’s trips as a co-pilot on the Boeing 757 and 767 out of Boston. For the months of May and June, he’s been focusing on Paris almost exclusively. If you have any good suggestions for Parisian activities, feel free to leave the details in the comments.

Cockpit Chronicles: Paris with the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew

by Kent Wien on

Cockpit Chronicles takes you along on each of Kent’s trips as a co-pilot on the Boeing 757 and 767 out of Boston.

As I mentioned in the last post, I was given this two-day CCS trip instead of a three-day Paris. While I enjoyed the extra day off, it was hard to give up a Paris layover. Not much happened during the flight down and the deadhead home from Miami was uneventful. So we’ll skip ahead to the next Paris trip.

Fortunately I’ve managed to hold an entire line of Paris trips for June, so I’ll be trying to catch up on all the great recommendations for things to do in the city of light.

Since I was the relief pilot for this 6 P.M. departure, it was up to me to do the exterior preflight. The rain was starting to come down in sheets, just in time for my venture outside to look over the airplane.

At least the wet ramp made for a few nice photos…

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We taxied out on time, only to discover a lineup of fifteen airplanes in front of us waiting to takeoff from runway 33L in Boston. It was easy to see the cause. A large dark line of clouds and rain north of the airport was disrupting the normal departure paths of the jets, which meant that ATC had to work with the pilots to get headings that would keep them far away from the storm.

We listened as pilots asked for a different heading after they lined up on the runway and saw the green and yellow blobs that depicted the heavy showers and convective activity on their radar. Finally it was our turn to enter into position and hold on the runway. ATC gave us a left turn to a 250 degree heading, toward the city of Boston. This heading might have worked a few minutes earlier, but the weather looked to us to be far better to the northeast. Some ATC facilities are getting more advanced weather radar capabilities, but it’s always up to the pilot to decide if they’re comfortable with what’s in front of them. Captain Al asked for a turn to 020 degrees instead. ATC took a minute to check with the departure controllers to see if this would work for them.

With our brakes parked, I was able to take a picture of the weather ahead from my view in the observer’s seat, and also the view of the radar on the map display.

Our 020 degree heading was approved and the climb out was perfectly smooth. We passed along the ride report–an indication to the controller to let the airplanes behind us know that this direction may be their best choice.

Since we had a relief pilot aboard, we each had an hour and fifty minutes for our break in one of the new business class seats. I think all three of us managed to sleep during our breaks, a rarity for me. Usually the relief pilot gets the first break, which is during the meal service when the lights are turned all the way up as bright as a tanning bed.

Forty-five minutes before landing, all three of us were back in the cockpit. Jim, the co-pilot, pointed out the beaches of Normandy. Since it was the Friday before Memorial Day in the U.S., I thought it was a pretty good time to finally catch a glimpse of this part of the world, where WWII came to a close. Unfortunately, with the sun coming up in our eyes, the view wasn’t ideal. But I’ll keep an eye out next time for this historic area since I’ll have an idea what to look for.

Approach control told us to expect the north runway, 9 Left, which meant a good mile more to taxi to our gate. Al turned to Jim and said, let’s ask for 8 Right. Now, this is completely normal in Miami, Chicago or even Dallas. But for some reason, in Paris we just never seem to get a different runway from what they have in mind for us, no matter how nice we say Bonjour when we contact them. So we’ve long since given up asking for a change in runways. Captain Al doesn’t normally fly Paris trips as he’s always preferred the Caribbean. But he’s not shy. And sure enough, his request was met with a “roger, expect runway zero eight right.” Amazing. I’m glad Al has opened my eyes to this whole ‘ask and they just might say yes technique.’

I’ve heard stories of the bus ride into Paris taking as much as two and even three hours during the weekday morning traffic. I’ve mostly had weekend trips to Paris, so I haven’t had a chance to see this gridlock very often. This time we were lucky to have just an hour and forty minute ride into the city via our full-sized bus. I usually plug in my iPhone and listen to the latest This American Life podcast.

While waiting in the lobby for our room keys, everyone discussed their plans for the day. After the requisite four-hour nap, I would meet up with Captain Al and Lisa, one of the flight attendants who gave me a cake for my birthday over the Atlantic in January. I’ve always enjoyed flying with Lisa, but hadn’t had a chance to visit with her much on our previous trips.

The eight other flight attendants and the co-pilot scattered to do their own things. Shopping, museums and working out were in their plans.

The three of us met up in the hotel’s crew lounge before going down the street to the Monoprix grocery store. We picked up some baguette, cheese, wine and salami before walking to the Tuileries Garden next to the Louvre to have a picnic. Fortunately, Lisa’s a bit of a wine expert, so we had her pick out a bottle.

Lisa at the Monoprix, or as I like to call it, “Mono-Lisa.”

This picnic routine has become a favorite with crews for lunch. While technically it’s forbidden to have an open bottle of alcohol in a public park, the police seem more concerned with people who are clearly drunk. As this article on Picnicking in Paris mentions, as long as you’re discreet, you’ll be treated discreetly by the police, who have been known to say, “Please hide the wine bottle,” followed by a polite “bon appetit” as they move on.

We sat down in the Tuileries Gardens, which is right next to the Louvre.

This spot gave us a clear view of the museum where we could take in the sights and visit for a while. While we spread camembert over a baguette, I found out that Lisa is an English Literature and creative writing teacher at a Rhode Island college. She grabbed a magazine and wrote out two lines that showed how punctuat
ion can change everything:

I’d argue that in addition to the punctuation, the picture to the right of the quote added to the impact.

After finishing an entire baguette, half the cheese and a bit of wine, we packed up to continue our walk. We passed this spider, which was formerly on display in London and now resides in Paris. It’s 30 feet high and it was built in 2005 for a staggering $3.2 million.

We approached a wall at the edge of the Tuileries garden that had some round air vents cut out. For some reason, curious Al decided he needed to look into one of these holes.

“Check this out!” He yelled at us. “It looks like a sun dial.”

Now I was trying to figure what a sun dial would be doing in a sewer grate. Isn’t it a little dark down there for a sun dial? But sure enough, there was the face of a clock or perhaps a sun dial on the floor of this long storage room.

“It looks like where the Louvre stores their artifacts!” Lisa gasped.

We looked into most of the holes in the wall and found them packed with stuff. Mostly clay pots, the sun dial and maybe some of the equipment that originally came with the palace that is now the Louvre. We were all surprised that this stuff was slightly exposed to the elements.

Lisa said, “We’re just like the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew!” We agreed I’d have to be Parker Stevenson while Al took the Shawn Cassidy role. But I really think Al’s more like Sean Connery.

Upon researching further, it may be parts recovered from the Tuileries Palace that burned down in 1871. The Louvre is now a u-shaped palace, but at one time the open end was actually the Tuileries Palace. It’s been proposed that the building be rebuilt someday for an estimated $400 million. As we walked out of the Tuileries, we noticed a gate blocking the entrance to the area where we made our discovery. Maybe we weren’t meant to be back there.

We decided to stroll through the Louvre and maybe take a few pictures. A couple stopped us and asked if we’d take their picture. They were from St. Petersburg, Florida and they looked like models. Of course I couldn’t pass up the chance to take a few good pictures for them. I’d like to apologize to them if I ran their batteries dead trying to get just the right shot.

We then went down to Pont Neuf to jump on a boat tour of the Seine. It’s only 11 Euros for an hour trip and we still had some of our picnic to eat. We weren’t leaving until the next afternoon, so we enjoyed another romantic plastic cup of wine. Our tour guide informed us that she wasn’t yet certified, and she hoped we didn’t mind. She did a great job and sat right front of us while explaining the history of Paris.

The lighting was perfect and I took advantage of it to snap pictures of the oldest bridge in town, Pont Neuf.

We also saw an Amphibious car called the Amphicar parked on the back of someone’s river boat.

After deciding that the river boat was well worth the 11 Euros, we walked to the Latin Quarter to find something to eat. Sharlee, a commenter on the last Paris trip, mentioned that the creperie at 27 Rue Andre des Arts was where she had the best crepes ever. Since that’s one of my favorite streets in Paris, I was almost sure I had eaten there. It turns out I hadn’t, so we all waited about a thirty minutes to get a seat.

After our light picnic in the late afternoon, a creperie was just what we needed, since we weren’t looking for a very large meal. The dinner crepes or gallete as they’re called, were perfectly cooked and we all enjoyed the nautical theme of the restaurant. A cat made a surprise visit to say hello after we finished our ham and cheese galletes. It moved on quickly to see if the people next to us had anything better that they were willing to give up.

Without Al on this trip, I wouldn’t have seen how surprisingly flexible the French controllers are nor would we have discovered the Louve’s secret storage area. I guess it pays to be inquisitive. I’m glad to have experienced these two Paris trips with Al and to learn more about Lisa’s second job as an English professor.

Here’s a gallery of many more pictures from this Paris trip:

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Cockpit Chronicles takes you along on each of Kent’s trips as a co-pilot on the Boeing 757 and 767 out of Boston.