A Flight On A Womble – MXP-BHX on Alitalia

My regular trips to Geneva, where my boss is based, are typically on Lufthansa via FRA and/or MUC, as this allows me to accrue miles on my BMI Diamond Club/Star Alliance card and also allows me to use the lounges and drink Lufthansa’s gin even when travelling economy. However, the need to fly home from Geneva on Tuesday 4th January presented an interesting proposition – no seats available on Lufthansa, Swiss, KLM or Air France, but Alitalia had availability Geneva-Milan Malpensa-Birmingham, with the bonus that both flights were operated types I had not flown on before, an ATR-72 and an Embraer 170. The seat was in business class too – no availability in economy (shame… NOT!).

The ATR ride from Geneva to Milan was uneventful, helped along by a nice white wine and a light snack. A fairly boring hour and a half in the rather bland Alitalia lounge at Milan allowed me to contemplate my forthcoming ride on the 170, a type the locals in Birmingham have nick-named “Womble” due to the shape of its nose and its big black snout.

Bussed out to a remote stand, the reason for me travelling 130 miles in the wrong direction to get home stood ready to go. EI-DFI is an Embraer ERJ.170-100LR, and looks smart in the white and green livery with Alitalia Express painted on the side. Boarding through the forward door, the Alitalia 170s are light and airy, the airline having configured their aircraft with tasteful grey leather clad seats in a 2+2 layout, accommodating a total of 72 passengers. The curtain, more of which later, was between row 3 and 4, but having been allocated seat 1A I didn’t get any further back than that. There was plenty of room in the overheads to get my two bags stowed, as of course in row 1 no hand baggage can be placed on the floor. The flight was pretty full, not bad for a fairly new route, with only two seats empty in business (out of a total of four) and a similar number empty in economy out of 68 available. Leg and shoulder room was more than adequate (better than the similar capacity CRJ.700 for example), although it appeared no extra pitch was provided in the variable-sized business class cabin. The aircraft was buttoned up and ready to go on schedule, but with the steps removed (the aircraft does not appear to have an air-stair) it was apparent a slight delay would arise. Whilst the APU seemed to be happy generating electrical power, an air-start unit hove into view and was rapidly connected via a big snake-like tube to the forward fuselage. The customary din of an air-start at full kelter soon made itself apparent, followed shortly thereafter by the sequential winding up of each engine, number two first then one.

Air-start and chocks removed, the dispatcher waved a fairwell to the crew and the aircraft lurched rapidly forward and to the left, stopping quite agressively again within a few meters. Some gesticulating betwen the captain and first officer ensued (the flight deck door was still open – more on this later too!), after which the aircraft again lurched forward and to the left a few meters, after which another aggressive stop was initiated. We were now half on and half off the self-manouvreing stand, with the aircraft pointing maybe 30 degrees away from the direction it should have been turning – ie. it should have taxied out to the right.

The next twenty minutes were a jumble of checklists, procedure manuals, frantic gesticulation, and rapid Italian conversation from the flight deck, all very evident through the still open flight-deck door from where I was now sitting (1C). The cabin crew seemed bemused, just leaning on the table in the galley. Some thirty minutes after we should have left, a yellow-coated engineer arrived at the aeroplane in a car, plugged himself into the ground intercom, and started conversing with the crew whilst intently studying the nose of the aeroplane. Finally, the captain said “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a problem with the steering, we will keep you updated.” Finally, the engines were shut down (presumably they didn’t want to do that until it was necessary due to the previously mentioned starting problems) and a set of steps was wheeled up to the forward door. Ominously, an airport bus and some baggage carts drew up next to the aircraft. For a further twenty minutes or so, there were five people in the flight deck – the two pilots and three engineers, all jabbering with each other in rapid Italian, pressing buttons, consulting documentation, and presumably also communicating with another engineer still plugged into the airplane outside. Finally, the guy outside started putting his thumb up rather than shaking his head. The bus and baggage carts disappeared, and the captain said “We have now fixed the problem and we go in five minutes.” Of course, the five minutes were needed to summon the air-start unit and plug it in again. Strangely this time, only the number two engine was started using the air-start, after which it was unplugged and remove and the number one engine was started using bleed air from number two. As those of you who have experience such an operation will know, starting using bleed air requires the already running engine to be operated at fairly high power, and the resultant noise from number two and the shaking of the aircraft at high power on the breaks whilst number one was started appeared to do little to calm a few passengers who were already looking a little apprehensive.

Finally EI-DFI moved forwards, in a straight line this time, and after a quick brake check turned right – plenty of looks of relief at this point, and not just from the passengers! Taxi to the runway was rapid, and whilst this was happening the cabin crew member at the front of the plane occupied herself trying to secure the flight deck door, which immediately reopened every time she tried to lock it. Reaching the end of the runway, the door was still open, and another rapid-fire Italian conversation between captain, first office and cabin crew took place, presumably deciding what to do about the door and its refusal to stay closed. Decision made, we took off, flight-deck door still open – ah, the good old days when passengers could sometimes get a look at what was happening up-front.

Accelleration and rotation even on the fairly heavily laden ERJ-170 was rapid, and climb out fairly steep. Noise levels at the front of the cabin were subdued, certainly more than at the front of a Canadair or 145, but not intrusive or whining and low enough for conversations to continue easily. Stabilised in the climb and with the autopilot on (ah, the joys of an open flight-deck door again), some ten minutes into the flight the first office got out of his seat and started messing with the still open door, firstly banging it shut several times and then finally hitting the locking mechanism several times with some sort of blunt instrument. I presume he finally “fixed” the problem, because after five minutes of banging and smashing the door closed and stayed so until we landed in Birmingham. Pretty soon, the next problem became evident. The curtain seperating business and economy was positioned between rows three and four, but the crew started serving economy “boxes” to those in rows two and up – those passengers in rows two and three who thought they’d got an upgrade were evidently disappointed. Once the cart was past row three, both cabin crew started furiously banging on the curtain mountings with their hands, trying to slide it forwards on the rails in the ceiling. Initially it steadfastly refused to budge, but finally, relucatantly and slowly, the curtain was bashed and bashed enough until it was between rows one and two, by which time half the passengers in the front end of the airplane were laughing at what was fast becoming a commedy of errors. After that, the flight settled down. Business class meal was a salad with meat, a nicely presented cheese plate with accompanying raw carrots and celery, and Italian chocolate. Alitalia also make good coffee, and the wine wasn’t bad either.

Landing at Birmingham was around an hour behind schedule, and soon the ERJ was on its allocated stand on terminal 2, which I still call the Euro-hub! One last nasty trick was that the operator had a great deal of trouble getting the air-bridge up to the front door of the aircraft, an exercise which took him nearly fifteen minutes from brakes-on. He was, however, gracious enough to suggest to us at the front when the door was opened that the reason we couldn’t see his L-plates was because they were attached to the side of the air-bridge!

Overall then objective achieved, albeit with an annoying delay and some interesting challenges for the crew. Alitalia service wasn’t bad – probably on a par with most European airlines these days, although their lounge in Malpensa is not up to current standards and needs to be revamped. The ERJ.170 was a pleasant ride, certainly better than the CRJ.700 for roominess, although I am left to wonder about the robustness of an airplane that must be only a year old.

Thanks for reading.

Andy