As a kid growing up in the 70s, the biggest thrill for me would be a trip to Subang International Airport to send off some relative to some far-flung corner of the Earth.
Subang International was Malaysia’s gateway to the world and was declared operational in 1965 after the nation’s first international airport in Sungai Besi could no longer handle the increasing passenger traffic into the country. Its location in the heart of a rapidly expanding capital, Kuala Lumpur, was also less-than ideal due to obstructions to low-flying aircraft.
The airport had a large public viewing gallery where you could watch airplanes land, taxi, and take off. For 20 sen, which was a princely sum in those days, you could get a closer look at the jets through the viewfinders the airport had installed at the gallery. Mak (mom) would tell me instead: “Pakai mata hang cukup” (just use your eyes).
Boeing was the dominant force back in those days, with their majestic 707s for intercontinental routes, and the efficient 737s for short-haul work. Later, the futuristic-looking McDonnell Douglas DC-10-30s and Airbus A-300B4s became my favourites with their sleek, streamlined profiles.
My attention would be riveted to those big, silvery metal birds. Their Pratt and Whitney JT-8D, JT-9; and Rolls Royce Conway engines belched thick black smoke as they ran up to their velocity minimum unstick (VMU) speeds, the whine of turbojets assaulting your eardrums. This was long before emissions were a global environmental issue, and ‘hush kits’ for the engines were a seed in someone’s imagination.
In 1977, Bapak (dad) got a posting to Kuching, Sarawak, 978km away on the island of Borneo. My dream of being a jetsetter was finally coming true! All at the ripe old age of seven.
Back in those days, getting on a plane was a big thing. You dressed up for the occasion. No T-shirts, shorts, or sandals. You wore a work shirt. Some even wore ties, slacks, a business jacket, and proper leather shoes. The women would be dressed to the nines, with scarves and bug-eyed Gucci sunglasses. Everyone looked like a movie star.
The boarding process was simple and hassle-free. You checked in your bags, presented your ticket, got your boarding pass, and off you went. These days, if your international flight was at 12pm, you’d better be at the airport by 8am. Back then, if your flight was at noon, you could leisurely stroll in at 11.15am and still be able to make it on board with plenty of time to spare.
Security checks were almost non-existent. There were no x-ray machines, metal detectors, canine units. You did not have to empty the entire contents of your pockets, undo your belt, take off your shoes and waddle barefooted to the next checkpoint while holding on to your pants.
Once on board, the inflight service would blow you away. Flight attendants would serve deliciously prepared inflight meals comparable to a five-star hotel dining experience. Even in Economy.
The meals would be grouped together on a wide tray that fitted your seat tray table. On it, would be a large rectangular ceramic or porcelain bowl for the main dish, one square bowl for a hot bun and a butter pack, another for dessert comprising a slice of cake, pastry, or some fruits, a cup for your coffee, and heavy gauge metal cutlery – spoon, knife, and a fork. If you’re all thumbs, the stewardesses would sometimes help tuck your linen napkin into your shirt, the highlight for any red-blooded boy. I used to wonder: “Man, if this is what they do in Economy, First Class must be insane!”.
Mak loved the service so much that she would ‘relieve’ some of the items as ‘mementoes’, every time we shuttled between Kuching and Kuala Lumpur. Blankets, pillows, cutlery, coffee cups and saucers, bowls, plates, you name it. She ‘collected’ them in sets. We used to joke that all she needed now was an airplane.
Back then, air travel carried a certain mystique. There was pomp and pageantry associated with cruising at 30,000 feet, ensconced in a pressurised tube hurtling through space at over 400 knots.
And then, Sept 11, 2001 happened. Overnight, security was ramped up. Full-body checks became commonplace and the long lines at security checkpoints became unbearably longer. Covid-19 sounded the death knell for affordable, full-service scheduled flights for the ordinary folk.
The cost of doing business had simply soared and airlines everywhere were forced to scrimp, save, and cut back on their service. Now, if you wanted service with all the trimmings, you’d have to opt for ‘Premium Economy’, or higher. Taking a flight was no longer an ‘event’. It was now just a means of getting from point A to point B. Nothing more.
On a recent trip to Thailand, I experienced first-hand the devastating effects of the pandemic on the airline industry.
I opted to fly Malaysia Airlines. Its equipment looked tired, dull, and dated, and the inflight catering, while okay, no longer had the ‘pizzazz’, flash, and magic of the 70s.
There was no pomp and pageantry, just a large rectangular box with a tin foil cover, a side pocket for salted peanuts, another small pocket for a tiny water bottle, and a slim cardboard container with plastic utensils and a serviette. The inflight entertainment (IFE) system worked as advertised but the library selection was spartan. The realities of a tougher fiscal and operating environment are sinking in.
The good news is that the flag carrier recently announced a deal for 20 new Airbus A-330neos powered by Rolls Royce Trent 7000s as part of its plans to update its fleet of widebody jets, amid a travel rebound.
Under the deal, Airbus said the carrier will buy 10 planes from the European planemaker and lease the other 10 from Avolon Holdings Ltd., a Dublin-based aircraft leasing company.
But where it counts – the service – MAS did not disappoint. The cabin crew were friendly, attentive, cheerful, and upbeat. Kudos also to the flight crews who greased both landings at Suvarnabhumi, and Kuala Lumpur International Airports. Both landings were as smooth as a baby’s bottom.
The hard reality is the allure of air travel of the 60s through to the 90s is finally dead, seriously wounded by 9/11, and finished off by Covid-19. We now have to be content with being herded into, and packed like cattle inside long slender tubes, and no-frills meals.
‘Fly the Friendly Skies’, they said…
