PT Lion Mentari Airlines, aka Lion Air
Singapore Changi Terminal 1 (SIN) – Jakarta Soekarno Hatta Terminal 2E (CGK)
JT157
Boeing 737-9GPER (PK-LFG)
ETD: 1715H
ATD: 1727H
ETA: 1755H
ATA: 1820H
Flight time: 1 hr 55 min

ONE STEP FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK… LET’S DO THE CHA-CHA!

As with most Indonesian carriers, they are normally treated with disdain. Safety concerns and operational back logs are rife on a normal day. We hear of cascading delays, near misses with accidents / incidents and how an airline manages to survive a day is not based on snap-shot strictly audited SOPs, but luck – pure luck.

There are Indonesian carriers, and then there is Lion Air. It all began in the year 2000 with a motley crew of aircraft types ranging from Yak 42s to 737-200s and an A310 – the latter which never left the ground. And then there was the absolutely horrendous period with their fleet of ex-Continental MD80s. Acquisition of 2nd hand frames was akin to frightened villagers in the Caribbean raiding the supermarket shelves for food supplies in anticipation of a hurricane, what Lion saw they grabbed. The fleet grew, and boy did they grow like Oprah’s weight.

I had the pleasure of flying on their MD80 a few years ago. My experience? Snowballed mechanical delays, stressed out ground staff yelling, frustrated customers fuming all stuffed into a crowded holding lounge from several delayed flights, overworked cabin crew, aircraft which had a slew of safety breaches I didn’t even know where to start (No seatbelt? Inoperable PA system?). It was pure unadulterated mayhem.

Who could forget the expat pilots who would rather break their contracts than to have a job with the airline?

Even when they tried to modernize and diversify the business, it wasn’t without controversy. There is a LARGE order of 737-900ERs to grapple with – all 180 of them. The number probably reflects the anticipated formation of Lion Air Australia of which the application was rejected by CASA several times out of safety concerns. Other than frequency adjustments on the domestic side, there haven’t been many developments to signal a tsunami of growth coming Lion’s way. So where would they fly the planes to let alone park them? Your guess is as good as mine. To date, about 30 have been delivered.

Hushed reports of numerous tail scrapes on the 737-900ER then started to surface amongst the industry insiders. Gosh, will the wheel of bad news ever stop churning? Still, it didn’t prevent Lion Air from milking the debutant marketing benefits of being the launch customer for this variant. Everywhere you go in Indonesia; there are banners and billboards at the travel agents, along the highways, on the labels of mineral water bottles, at the malls, outside public toilets, on the bra of a prostitute… And the words clearly scream LION AIR – FIRST TO FLY, BRAND NEW BOEING 737-900ER.

Any airline would have been proud. This was a perfect opportunity to show the world how a 3rd beat squalid scoundrel from the slums had matured into a jet-setting socialite. Or have they? Do we have a Slumdog Millionaire Jamaal Malik in the making?

So why did I come back to this airline which I walked away swearing never again in 2004? Perhaps a part of me was very curious about the progress (or lack of) since then. Or maybe I was just yearning for some drama on my frequent Jakarta commute? But then again, the reason could be as simple as this; they are cheaper than Air Asia.

TICKETING

Lion has embraced the e-Commerce age and I do know it took them quite a while to get here. The website is idiot-proof and since international bookings can be done there, they have one triumph over Garuda. But my joy was short lived. The webpage hung itself after I confirmed payment. A quick phone call to the office solved this problem and I had to go down and pay for the ticket in person.

Lion’s office is located downtown in Singapore. Furnished very simply with Ikea sofas and tables, it was actually quite Spartan. I was horrified to find out there that I have been charged for the fumbled booking. I was asked if I still wanted to keep it after my ticket issuance. Woman, do I look like I want to travel on two seats? Do I look rich or is my ass so big you have to pull a Southwest on me? The former booking was then nullified with no questions asked. I am still waiting for my credit card statement to see if there is any need for dispute.

Done… All in USD 69.00 return fare with 20kg check in allowance thrown in. E-ticket was dot-matrix printed on a blank piece of paper. There was nothing pompous, no company letterhead, very simple.

DEPARTURE DAY

19 March 2010

There is a saying I have coined myself – Where there is Garuda, Lion isn’t far behind. Imitation is the best form of flattery some say, especially in the form of a similar flight schedule is all but obvious. At Changi Airport, the Lion’s den at Row 13 is just next to Garuda’s mosh pit at 14. Talk about a pesky fruit fly which wouldn’t stop buzzing around your face!



Check in is handled by Singapore Airport Terminal Services (SATS). The ground handler has gone through a major rebranding and now their new purple / black uniforms make their staff look like cheerleaders in a high school sports event.

“GIMME AN L! GIMME AN O! GIMME AN S! GIMME AN E! GIMME AN R!!!! L-O-S-E-R! WHAT DO WE HAVE?! LOSER! LOSER! GGGoooooOOOOO… LOSER! Yayyyyyyyy…”

Comfort seems to be the key. Fine by me if you have the body to carry it off but when you are overflowing at places you aren’t supposed to, you become a perfect faux pas candidate for the fashion police. T-shirts and track pants – SERIOUSLY? These poor SATS employees who were forced to don these horrid looking outfits were only a fanny-pack away from looking like those loud “Sylvia Fine” type of holiday makers on American Airlines flying JFK-SJU on a Friday evening. RED ALERT ISSUED for Barney mascots roaming about Terminal 1!



The airside viewing gallery at Terminal 1 is thankfully being restored. There are really not many reasons anymore for people like me to gripe and moan about the lack of a view out of the glass windows. There is no better way to while your time away other than sprawling yourself out on the lazy chair and looking at the action outside. I concur it is better than sex.

You would be forgiven for thinking you have stumbled into the wrong airport. Err… is this KUL?

Flashing of LAST CALL in the FIDs got my attention. Made a beeline for the gate when I realized I still haven’t stopped by to the money changers yet! See what happens when you sprawl? I guess your brain gets sprawled along with everything else too.

In the midst of this photo, you will see the new SATS uniform. Is it ugly? You decide.



So much for LAST CALL, the holding lounge at gate C17 was still packed to the brim. As often as I fly out of Changi, I still managed to get fooled by the LAST CALL bit so shame on them if they fool me once, but shame on me if they fool me twice!

Boarding by row numbers was very strictly enforced so kudos to SATS for it. I always love to see people getting turned away. Since I assigned to the last row, I got to be in the first group to board. Finally the moment had arrived. I took a deep breadth of apprehension…

Door 1L

“*Sore, Pak… Apa khabar? Sore, Pak. “

*Sore, pronounced “saw-ray” – is an Indonesian greeting meaning “good day”.



Greetings from the 5 flight attendants positioned along the aisles came fast and furious. It felt as if I had stepped into a Japanese restaurant where waiters would almost shout a welcome at your face in unison complete with spit trajectories. But something was amiss; they weren’t smiling, eyes looked empty and lips too lifeless to be curled into a smile. In fact, they were slouching with their hands rested on top of the seats. “Sore… Sore… Sore…”, the greetings were done without any eye contact and if I observed correctly, they were sore-ing my crotch.

I could only describe my first impression of the Lion Lassies with one word – FATIGUED.



Up close, the kebaya design they don looks better in pictures than they really do in real life. Bits of it were fraying on some of them and they really looked like waitresses at a Sari Indah Indonesian Restaurant. Effort was made to glam up their coifs but after numerous killer turn-arounds, their French twists attempts were coming apart and it looked anything but pretty. In fact, it looked like a “morning after” effect. Here’s a tip for free, ladies – hair gel.

As expressionless as the flight attendants were, they did point out empty overheads where passengers could store their cabin bags before resuming their “Sore… Sore…” slouch-fest.



The flight was 100% filled. By the time I reached the check in counter, the only window seats left on the port side was 38A – it is the last row so there was no recline. Couple that with the tight pitch, it was a very uncomfortable position to be in. Thankfully this flight was only 90 minutes normally.

1727H: Push back was almost 15 minutes behind schedule.



The miserable weather conditions weren’t easing up because of a tropical torrential downpour. The scenery outside began to play tricks with my mind as I started to wonder if we would crash. Or would the aircraft somehow skid on the runway? Or maybe I was about to experience one of their famous 737-900ER tail-scrapes? Would I be another number? I found myself making sure I had on a pair of respectable expensive underwear just in case my body was to be extracted by rescuers afterwards; I would still look damn good.

A sepia-hued visual image of a conversation I had with my colleague from the day before started to echo in my head, “Lion Air? You are very brave. What if they crash… crash… crash… crash……?”



Manual safety demonstration was done accompanied by a pre-recorded announcement. Every portion was demonstrated in Bahasa Indonesia followed immediately by very posh Thatcher-style English. Pre-recorded announcements once again reminded us, while we were taxiing, to have our window shades open and seats in the upright position as the cabin was darkened.


Post 5pm is a very busy period for the airport. It is the beginning of an evening bank of arrivals / departures stretching till way past midnight. Thus, there was a congestion in departure as we lined up behind a Tiger A320, waiting for our turn to… err… scrape our tails?

From push back to take off, it took us almost 20 minutes.

1750H: Take off

On climb to FL360, weather wasn’t optimal but it was better than being on the ground. After months of hot, dry weather, the monsoon finally arrived a few weeks ago with a vengeance.

Of course nothing happened and the take off proceeded uneventfully. Otherwise I would not be here typing this report. We were now chasing a Turkish A330-200 ahead of us also heading to Jakarta. As soon as the seatbelt sign was pinged off, I sat there eagerly waiting to see what was in store catering wise since there was no mention of a BOB.

My last experience with Lion, I was given a snack box that contained 2 buns and a mineral water.



Meanwhile, the flight attendants busied themselves with… to be honest, I wasn’t really sure. All five of them seemed to be walking up and down at different intervals of the flight back and forth, back and forth… It seriously reminded me of Pam Ann’s “touch galley, touch trolley, do a little skip and make signs which means absolutely nothing… touch galley, touch trolley…”

The curtain separating us from the empty Business Class was drawn. Despite being configured with a premier cabin, no booking option was available so perhaps that is why it was devoid of passengers?



As the flight prodded along, I looked down at my watch and thought, “If they are to serve any meals, they’d better get cracking! Not much time left…”

After almost an hour in the air, it finally dawned on me why Lion was cheaper than Air Asia and there was no mention of a BOB. Simply because there were no meals or drinks on this sector! I wished I knew about this as I hadn’t had anything to eat before I boarded. Poor I, Lion didn’t even give me a chance to breathe before I got buried in pangs of hunger. At least on Air Asia, I could stick my hands into the pleasure chest for some hot dogs, nasi lemak or cup noodles. I looked at my neighbour as his head morphed into a greasy, succulent, sultry looking, golden brown, crispy fried chicken thigh… YUM! Instinctively licking my lips like a pervert, I quickly looked away as his chubby fingers began to look like smoking grilled chipolatas.



I can actually hear certain members of the forum cringing at this thought (the no-food bit, not the chicken thigh). If you think about it, Lion is really a level below an LCC. God, I have never actually flown like that before when I have been deliberately deprived of something to eat. Lion has really taken the concept of Point A - B transport to another level.

Nevertheless, here I was with my face literally pressed against the window so not like I had much of a choice. It was best to just suck it up and try enjoying what remained of the flight.



Meanwhile, the Lion Lassies were still hurriedly going up and down the aisle parading their assets, opening and closing the overheads, flicking the curtain at the bulkhead going in and out, disappearing into the aft galley then re-appearing again… Cue; repeat cycle. They sure looked very busy for a flight that didn’t see the appearance of a catering cart. They moved about so urgently you would almost feel bad flagging them down if (god-forbid) you needed an aspirin.

1845H: Flight deck came on to greet us. We were soon leaving our cruising altitude of FL360 to begin our arrival and they ended their announcements with “cabin crew, prepare for arrival”. This was followed immediately with a pre-recorded announcement reminding all of us to have our seats upright, tray tables and footrests (footrests??) stowed, and window shades up. Gosh, has someone in Lion been sniffing about Singapore Airlines?



Since there were no meal items to clear and almost no rubbish to pick up (maybe Lion is on to something here), the cabin was secured in no time. No sooner were we all buckled in, flight attendants strapped to jump seats, cabin darkened and mood music serenading us to our fiery crash landing in Jakarta.



The city which appeared outside my window that evening was blanketed in a thick layer of smog.

I was looking out for domestic arrivals on the other parallel runway but it wasn’t happening tonight. It is actually a rather cool sight to have another aircraft in close proximity just outside your window on the same heading. I have experienced this a few times while landing in Jakarta so I make it a point to look out for it.



1915H: Touchdown!

Flare… Hello, flare… FLARE! We slammed down hard, bounced once and kissed terra firma again on Runway 25R. For a mere moment, my knuckles went white as I held back bowels from staining my branded underwear. Spoilers deployed with full reverse thrust screaming their hearts out brought us to an urgent slow down accompanied by brakes moaning and begging for the torture to stop.

Phew… I made it. Last thing I needed was for the wheels into burst in flames necessitating an evacuation. Nothing of that sort happened. We were on chox 5 minutes later.



1920H: Gate E4, local time 1820H. Cabin crew, disarm doors.



Since Turkish Airlines was just ahead of us in the same terminal, immigration was already choked full of a wide-body’s worth of passengers waiting to be processed. This is Jakarta, where the immigration officers savour every moment with your passport to ensure every passenger is thoroughly scrutinized, or at least they act the part. It was almost an hour before I finally got through.



Customs wasn’t an issue. My driver was already circling the driveway ramps outside due to the full parking lots and Friday night traffic chaos. Thus, there was no opportunity for me to grab a quick bite before I got picked up to join the rest of the cars jamming along the highway into the city. Needless to say, when I finally arrived at my destination in Pondok Indah 3 hours later, I was frail from hunger since my last meal was lunch. So weak I felt like I was just put through a Nazi torture regime in a concentration camp. I must have eaten 10 buckets of KFC that evening afterwards, I wasn’t sure.

Coming down the airport ramp, this is what greeted me all the way home. I was choosing between slitting my wrists and gassing myself to death at this point.