Yet these kinds of partnerships have created some of my most memorable and pleasant travel experiences. In the newest kind of transumer brand coupling, leading hotels are now bedfellows with transportation hubs around the world, creating their own custom waiting lounges and service packages for their guests.

W Resort and Spa Vieques airport lounge

Grounding Airworld

Even a wonderful trip can be undone by a horrific journey through that “nation within a nation” Airworld – a term coined by Walter Kirn in Up in the Air to describe the generic series of taxis, lounges, cubicles and anonymous rooms travellers cycle through.

Airport greeting service, courtesy cars and convenient airport hotels have long been a part of the top-tier Airworld experience, because no matter how charming the airport (the informal lending library of bookshelves at MQS on Mustique’s Island retreat or the tiny thatched-roof hut in northern Maui’s HNM come to mind), their humble charms and amenities wear thin, considering the long wait times imposed by modern travel.

Hotel-branded airport lounges extend the hospitality experience of the accommodations themselves. The W Welcome Lounge in VQS on the island of Vieques, just off the coast of Puerto Rico, was designed by Milan-based Patricia Urquiola, the same designer behind the hotel chain’s Retreat & Spa.

W’s patented “Whatever/Whenever” services apply while luggage and Jeep transfers are sorted for the short drive to the resort, with treats like fruit and fresh-squeezed juices, pastries and chips, and chilled towels to refresh travellers.

Similarly, arriving and departing passengers at RAK in Marrakech who are guests of the prince’s palace-turned-hotel, La Mamounia, can stop in at the hotel’s own lounge, decorated in the same vein as the recently renovated property with plush design by Jacques Garcia and bespoke scent by Olivia Giacobetti.

Whether it’s a WiFi connection or sweet Moroccan dates you’re jonesing for, you’ll find it here.

The Four Seasons Resort Hualalai, on Hawaii’s Big Island, has a lounge in KOA Terminal 1 that rivals the creature comforts of the luxe 51-suite resort: bar, flat-screen TV, refreshments, magazines, newspapers, and of course, WiFi and charging stations for computers, mobile phones and PDAs.

La Mamounia airport lounge

“Having our airport departure lounge allows us to extend the resort experience just a bit longer, and provides our suite guests with added comfort and value on their way home,” says Brad Packer, an L.A.-based director of public relations for Four Seasons Hotels & Resorts.

Hilton serves three different premium brand platforms from an arrivals lounge at the Trans Maldivian Airlines’ seaplane terminal, a 10-minute shuttle from MLE in the Maldives. Guests of the Beach House Maldives: A Waldorf Astoria Resort and the Conrad Maldives Rangali Island share a large space; Hilton Maldives guests have a separate waiting lounge.

“In order to reach our resort, guests have to transfer by seaplane and there can sometimes be a wait before the flight is ready,” the Conrad’s PR manager Katherine Anthony says. The lounge provides not only great take-off and landing views for plane nerds, but perks like an on-site spa, showers, a playroom, free WiFi and computer stations.

Though the lounge is complimentary during the day to Hilton guests, anyone can pay US$80 to use it in the evening, when it will save you from airport-food dinner and paying an additional day-rate at your hotel while awaiting late flight departures.

Yabu Pushelberg, the world’s leading designers of hotel, restaurants and hospitality spaces, are working on Viceroy Hotel’s airport lounge in the Maldives. “This is a growing trend, especially for remote resorts,” says Glenn Pushelberg. “The boat or car ride should be an extension of the hotel experience… people travel so far now to get to their paradise destinations that you should provide the experience from the moment they get off the plane.”

By Water, Rail… or Helipad

Hotel Verta in London

Smart hotel brands have also extended their hospitality into the often inhospitable realm of other transportation hubs. For instance, I was greeted by a uniformed Four Seasons staffer in the intimidating arrival hall of Tokyo Station after arriving on the Narita Express train, and guided through the intricacies of hefting bags, converting money and navigating my way to the nearby (but not easy to find-is anything in Tokyo?) Four Seasons Maranouchi.

My 30-minute boat trip to Como’s Parrot Cay resort on the eponymous private island in the Turks and Caicos was smoothed by a short wait in its private seaport; a cedar-shingled wooden pavilion that’s an oasis of cold towels, rum punch and apothecary jars of cookies and nuts. (On your way back, you can pick up the Como Shambhala spa products you forgot to buy at the resort.)

At the Tides Sugar Beach in St. Lucia and at the Hotel Emiliano in Sao Paulo, I was comforted to know that if weather or traffic intervened, both hotels have their own helipads.

London even has its first heli-hotel, the Hotel Verta adjacent to the London Heliport.

Transumer-friendly brands – from restaurants and coffee shops to newsstands – have long recognized the importance of creating a consistent, familiar but locally relevant customer experience at every touchpoint across their networks.

Hospitality brands are uniquely capable of providing this sense of comfort and service to travellers, not just within their hotels, but anywhere their very mobile customers may be.

This year I experienced a kind of brand transliteration when I sailed on the Silver Spirit, one of the small, agile cruise ships of Monaco-based luxury cruise line Silversea (regularly named the best cruise line in the world).

When I slipped through the etched-glass doors of Le Champagne restaurant, the warm, mahogany-lined interior felt familiar, even though it was my first time on board. As I slid onto the banquette under a crisp-white-linened table, and felt the curve of the Riedel stemware and saw the gleam of gold-rimmed porcelain plates, it was apparent before I even saw a menu.

I was emotionally back in some of my favourite restaurants – the shuttered Lumière in Vancouver or Per Se in New York. Turns out the only Wine Restaurants by Relais & Châteaux at sea are on board Silversea’s ships, forming an interesting case study of what happens when one very terroir-based brand meets a brand that rules the water.

Making a big world small

Hospitality brands are often defined by borders, however invisible those borders might be. Airline brands, aside from ground-side lounges, don’t dabble much in bricks-and- mortar hospitality.

Tropical Tea dessert from Per Se in New York City/Photo by roboppy via Flickr

Hotel brands are terrestrial but they mostly strive to replicate consistent brand values around the globe. Restaurants, in this era of local eating, rely on a distinct sense of place to define their style and cuisine. Nimble brands like Virgin that industry-hop from retail to airlines to hotels are notable precisely for crossing those borders.

R&C includes 475 of the finest hotels and restaurants in 55 countries. All of the properties are independent, each of them defined by its unique local setting, character and hospitality.

Silversea, on the other hand, makes a big world seem small with ships so well appointed you barely feel the need to go ashore. So how have these brands fared since partnering at sea a decade ago?

Regional to the voyage route

R&C Grand Chefs workshop aboard a Silversea cruiseliner/Photo via etravelblackboardasia.com

In many aspects, it’s a lovely match. Several Culinary Arts Voyages featuring R&C Grand Chefs sail every year, providing cooking demos, market trips ashore, and food and wine pairing instruction for Silversea guests.

Global wine regions and cuisine are showcased in six-course R&C menus in the ship’s Le Champagne restaurants, of a quality and ambition that outrank any other cruise offering.

It’s very likely that devoted R&C followers who trace a route de bonheur through its establishments around the world are the very same affluent globetrotters who choose to sail with Silversea.

Yet the challenges are formidable: Local ingredients define the cuisine of Jonathan Cartwright, the Sheffield, UK-born chef at the White Barn Inn in Kennebunkport, Maine, one of five chefs who sailed on a 12-day New World cuisine-themed World of Relais & Châteaux cruise from Nice, France to Southampton, England.

At his own restaurant Cartwright proudly sources New England cheeses and fresh-caught lobster, Maine shrimp and fish in season, adhering religiously to the East Coast rule: “Oysters from this coast are best when there is no ‘R’ in the month.”

At sea, he instead follows Silversea’s philosophy of world cuisine, embracing diverse ingredients and styles.

“We try to create menus that we believe are regional to the voyage route,” he says. “Produce is sourced as fresh and as close to major ports of call as possible. On certain ports of call specialty items are purchased so cuisine can be created regionally.”

He adds that Silversea’s impeccable standard of food storage, hygiene and equipment are key to achieving high culinary standards.

Wine selection at Le Champagne/Photo by Josh Friedman Luxury Travel via Flickr

Any bottle anywhere in the world

If his home dining room is full, Cartwright might serve leisurely multi-course dinners to 120 guests a night. On the Silver Shadow there could be three times that many in total, dining at various restaurants in a narrow window of time every evening.

And because guests are on board longer – anything from a 10-day sailing to a 115-day world cruise – menus must constantly change to surprise and delight them.

“A land-based restaurant features a menu based on the seasons and might change its menus every three months. We turn around all the menu cycles on a daily basis,” says Rudy Scholdis, Silversea’s culinary director.

Scholdis scoffs at the old adage that a good claret has to sail around the world once to be a great wine. “To be perfectly honest, I do not really agree with this logic. Wines age differently at high altitude, but at sea as well.”

He says Silversea’s surprisingly deep and diverse wine list is carefully managed to avoid too much on-board exposure to the elements that could affect its flavour. Through a shore-side cellar and high-tech logistics, they can get any bottle anywhere in the world in a day.

“This quick delivery method prevents us from having a great bottle of Château Pétrus visit the entire globe before it finally gets to be enjoyed by one of our guests.”

But the biggest challenge is consistent bread and pastries, says the Belgian-born Scholdis, who describes a fresh, crisp baguette as “a sponge” after a few minutes of sailing in hot, humid Southeast Asia or the Amazon. And Cartwright brings up one more personal obstacle for R&C chefs going aboard: “In strong seas, to be in the galley and not feel seasick!”

Silver Shadow docked in Victoria, British Columbia/Photo by quaelin via Flickr

Lifting both brands’ boats

Based on the Transumer’s R&C culinary experience on Silversea, the successful land-sea partnership is a rising tide that lifts both brands’ boats.

R&C’s Grand Chefs bring a local, familiar style of hospitality with deep roots in terroir to the mobility brand of Silversea, enhancing the cruise company’s commitment to providing authentic regional experiences – not just generic luxe – to its guests.

The additional X-factor, as Chef Cartwright points out, is the deliciously exclusive transumer experience that can make even ordinary airline food taste great at 30,000 feet with a bird’s-eye view of the Atlantic out your window.

“The ports of call, and regions of the world that they sail to, alongside the unique views into the horizon from each of the dining rooms, are what make [Silversea ships] an ideal venue.”

The Sawyer Glacier (Alaska) as seen from Silver Shadow/Photo by Jonathan Caves via Flickr

Once upon a time, the commercial aviation world was populated by so-called flag carriers, massive government-owned airlines that served their countries’ inbound and outbound flying needs.

Today, in a market of widely diverse business and leisure travel airline offerings, a few flag carriers still roam the earth – some of them more nimble creatures than others. Here are some takeaways from two recent flights.

Air Tahiti Nui: the fresh bloom of youth

As I boarded the Air Tahiti Nui plane, the cabin crew handed me its beautiful brand ambassador: the Tahitian tiaré flower. I tucked the small, white bloom behind my ear, where its gorgeous gardenia scent lasted the eight-plus hours of the flight to Papeete from Los Angeles (the airline’s North American hub).

The tiaré shows up in some of the cabin interior’s upholstery and lends its name to the airline’s frequent flyer program (Club Tiaré). Its scent even infuses the refreshing moist towel that precedes meal service. This simple, organic amenity gives the airline a powerful symbolic and physical brand and provides the customer with a sensory memory that lasts far beyond the flight.

More than 60 percent owned by the government of French Polynesia, Air Tahiti Nui has only been in operation since 1998, and still has the glow of youth about its offerings. Its modern Airbus fleet is named for islands of French Polynesia, like Bora Bora, where I was headed this past spring to stay at the Four Seasons Bora Bora.

Welcoming aircraft interiors are decked out in the aquas and blues of the Pacific. Flight attendant uniforms resemble resort wear more than airline staff togs: colourful, loose floral-printed dresses and shirts that put the largely leisure-travel customer base in immediate vacation mode.

On this relatively small airline I was delighted to find seatback entertainment even in economy class, where half a dozen recent Hollywood movies complemented more culturally tailored audio selections, including Tahitian, French and Japanese channels of music.

The bilingual English-French Air Tahiti magazine made a good portal for my journey, with its articles on Polynesian cultural traditions and an emphasis on the airline’s own commitment to sustainability and local communities – important features in a region this small and environmentally fragile.

Upon arrival in Papeete’s open-air airport we were greeted with live Polynesian music, ocean breezes and another fragrant tiaré flower. The only elements that took the bloom off my experience were pre-flight: For LAX embarkees, online or self check-in and advance seat selection weren’t available. And since many Papeete-bound passengers had boarded in Paris the aircraft was largely full, leaving me at the back of the Airbus for the long flight.

Though the airline’s online service features are a bit limited, it uses social media like Twitter and Facebook to promote packages, deals, media coverage, aviation news and local events. (For instance, this past June, it tweeted to reassure passengers during a short-lived strike.)

Royal Air Maroc: missed opportunities

My international trip on Royal Air Maroc – from Montreal to Marrakech, then return from Casablanca to Montreal – was no short hop, at around eight hours each way. Unfortunately, the inflight entertainment experience didn’t quite match the richness of the culture of origin.

Created after Morocco declared independence in 1957, RAM can be credited as a force in opening up African routes over the years and for its continuing innovations. (Recent announcements position it as the first airline in Africa to offer self check-in kiosks.)

The airline, of which over 95 percent is owned by the Moroccan government, shows its colours in cabin crew uniforms in blue, with delicate embroidered motifs evoking the red and green of the Moroccan flag and jacket tailoring reminiscent of a djellaba, the traditional North African robe.

Outbound, the J-class cabin’s audio feed didn’t work, rendering a mainscreen showing of The Joneses mute; on my return the mainscreen in my economy cabin remained stubbornly dark the entire flight.

At least the outage was a good opportunity to check out the trilingual (English, French, Arabic) inflight magazine, which promoted a (heavily edited, one would suppose) version of Sex and the City 2. Curiously, it failed to mention the film was largely shot in Morocco as a stand-in for Abu Dhabi. Why wouldn’t a flag carrier want to tout a Hollywood blockbuster’s affiliation with its country?

Even had that rusty old mainscreen IFE system been working, offerings are somewhat limited: A couple of Egyptian movies and channels of Arabic and Andalusian music do little to brandish its North African credentials.

Royal Air Maroc’s hub is the rather rundown Mohammed V (CMN) in Casablanca, where a feral cat stalked across the Executive Class check-in red carpet. The stunning Marrakech Ménera airport (RAK), with its canopy resembling a giant mashrabiya screen, is a much more pleasant and on brand passenger facility. Hospitality brands like the luxury hotel La Mamounia seem to understand that Morocco’s  brand is a selling feature and have opened their own arrivals lounges at RAK.

Photo by Markhillary via flickr

Online the airline misses an opportunity to promote its own customer-friendly features. For instance, only by asking at check-in did my companion and I discover the steal-deal of a $600 one-way Executive Class upgrade between YUL and CMN – normally around a $5,000 price difference. Given what it has to work with, Royal Air Maroc is leaving money on the table.

Flag Bearers

It’s a weighty responsibility for a flag carrier to be a cultural ambassador for its nation. These two flights demonstrated the potential for national airlines to use technology, marketing and good old-fashioned service touches to drive successful customer diplomacy missions.

In the last decade, forward-thinking hoteliers have re-invented the category known in the industry as select-service, commonly dubbed motels by road warriors.

Ever since automobiles hit the freeways en masse in the 1950s, North American tourists have demanded the convenience of a door-side parking lot, quick food and drinks and a no-frills place to lay their heads for the night. Often located near busy airports, new generation select-service hotels can be comfy and design-savvy retreats. And they’re no longer limited to the American roadside. Here are three of our favourites:

Indigo girl

Nearly a decade ago I stayed at the first Indigo hotel in Atlanta, an offshoot of the Intercontinental Hotel Group, which arguably started the select-service revolution (IHG has in its portfolio Holiday Inn, the original select-service chain). The clean, reliable and family-oriented motel of yore is now a “hip, cool lifestyle hotel,” according to the brand’s website.

I recently checked in to the location near YYZ in Toronto and found the same beach-y scent and vibe – from the blue-and-white cloudscape behind the check-in desk to the cool, calming lighting – that I remember from the flagship Indigo. The chain’s logo sometimes looks like a seashell, sometimes like an aircraft turbine. Large sepia-toned murals in the lobby and on each floor celebrate the glamourous age of air and train travel.

But this new-school motel is more than a decor scheme. My online booking request for a quiet room on a high floor away from the elevator met, I found a pleasant nature motif carrying through the experience: an autumn-themed haiku on my keycard jacket invited me do download “music of the season” and the lamps, bedspread and headboard in my room were fresh bamboo-green. The hardwood-look laminate floor, terrifically powerful glass shower and Aveda amenities made me feel like I was on holiday, even though I was on a layover.

In the morning, the bill was slipped under my door so a quick cup of in-room coffee and a fast press of my trousers got me out of the room and to the free airport shuttle on time (No time for the gym, though there was one).

On the downside, before the airport curfew kicked in the landing and takeoff noise in my room was substantial. But Indigo is a far cry from a roadside motel and I’d check in again.

Aloft party

When I book on its website, the W Hotels’ little sister uses groovy, casual language that sounds totally laid back – but I like that I have the credibility and reputation of Starwood behind this brand (and can use my Starpoints). Still, it’s my first cue that an Aloft stay is best enjoyed by the young, or the very young-at-heart.

The lobby in the Indigo near PHX in Phoenix looks like a more colourful W, with tons of windows and natural light in place of W’s dark sexiness, vibrant mid-century-inspired furniture and an inviting view to an outdoor pool. On the check-in desk, a note about drink specials is embedded inside a kitschy snow globe.

Very young, very friendly staff check me in as I look around the lobby, where a large self-serve food area has drinks, snacks and amenities for sale (I score a small tube of toothpaste and a big chocolate cupcake). In the morning I’ll discover they serve inexpensive hot breakfasts from a diner-style pass-through window.

My room has the pleasant, efficient design of a ship’s cabin: a built-in wardrobe with open shelving, lots of vanity space and a brilliant electronics master panel on the spacious work desk for hooking up my own laptop/MP3/PDA to the big wall-mounted flat-screen.

If this is the modern-day motel, I’ll check in…every night. At just over US$100, my Aloft stay was a steal. But the cons – blaring retro music in the lobby, a rowdy amateur sports team that dominated the lounge space and pool – might be deterrents for more conservative travellers.

Radisson Blu

Radisson is one of the most American hotel brands, founded in Minneapolis in 1909. It recently took over the European chain of SAS hotels that the eponymous airline so successfully branded in Arne Jacobsen’s mode of cool Danish design, renaming them Radisson Blu (a brand that the company is now, incidentally, bringing to North America).

You’ll find properties in Europe, the Middle East and Africa. I checked into the Belfast location recently, a hip brick-encased building a few minutes by foot from downtown and a short cab ride from the airport.

Now, Radisson Blu dubs itself a “full-service luxury” hotel chain, but the hallmarks of select-service are there: a surface-level parking lot right outside the door, limited facilities (no gym on site) and in-room amenities (ironing board, coffee station – with biscuits!) that aren’t typical of most European luxury hotels.

Blu aspires to more than select-service but doesn’t necessarily deliver. Its Italian restaurant, Fillini, shows gourmet ambitions but served me a soggy, cardboard-tasting pizza. But if I look at it as a design hotel experience for a motel price, Blu – with its efficient, cab-hailing doorman, a fair currency-exchange rate at the front desk and North American-style creature comforts – makes me feel happy indeed.

Continental Drift

Indigo and Aloft have proven that, in North America, this venerable hospitality genre is ripe for reinvention – now chains like Super 8, Red Roof Inn and even the Holiday Inn are getting brand makeovers. Overseas, Radisson Blu shows that even at the European design-hotel level, travellers love the convenience – and price – of select-service.

Some hope to make an international impact by launching splashy high-tech or eco-friendly initiatives; others have invested in local projects that will generate goodwill with Vancouverites long after the athletes leave town.

Many other brands are just looking to expose their products and services to the millions of viewers, visitors and spectators who will be transported into the Transumer headspace by the global excitement around the Games. Here are a few innovative examples.

Open House

Most Vancouver hotels have been booked for months, if not years; some are taken over entirely by TV crews and heads of state. So during the recent real-estate blip, one developer got creative. The new downtown residential tower Level turned from proposed rental apartments into an extended-stay residential hotel, suddenly the only one in town with Olympic vacancies. It will also temporarily host USA House during the games. That high-visibility gig could be a big-time launching pad; Level Furnished Living hotel has already housed some visiting Hollywood film crews.

Style and Substance

Compare the plans of official sponsor Omega, which opened a classy pop-up watch boutique for the duration of the Games in the Fairmont Hotel Vancouver; and of renegade eyewear brand Oakley, which will have its Rolling O product and technology lab-on-wheels in the more populist locale of nearby ski hill Grouse Mountain. Each approach smartly targets the brand’s core audience.

Official clothing sponsor Hudson’s Bay Company and its red mittens has a shining presence at the Games, but there are plenty of other sportswear brands ready to grab some limelight. Victorinox, makers of Swiss Army travel gear, have a pop-up temporary store in Whistler for the Games. Red Canoe Heritage Brands also recently opened a permanent Whistler store. How many tourists will happily purchase these Canadiana-hip clothes in place of “official” gear?

Meanwhile, hometown Yoga-pant guru Lululemon got wrist-slapped for its cheeky “Cool Sporting Event That Takes Place in British Columbia Between 2009 & 2011 Edition” clothing line. The IOC called it ambush marketing; we call it clever positioning.

The Bay's Olympic superstore in downtown Vancouver (by susan gittins via flickr)

Easy Being Green

Eco-friendly products are becoming an easier sell with consumers, but a marketing boost during the Games could be a green launching pad. Official sponsor Coke is using the Olympics to unroll new clean, green cooling technology for 1,400 vending machines around Olympic sites—a first in Canada. Greenpeace (founded in Vancouver in 1978) has been working with Coke over the last several years to popularize the new technology; Vancouver 2010 could be the global “tipping point.”

Good Will Hunting

While some brands are going straight for their customers’ dollars, others are winning over their hearts and minds. Official sponsor GE partnered with the province of BC to revitalize a beloved local playground, the delightful Arthur Erickson-designed skating rink at downtown’s Robson Square.

The rink showcases GE lighting and cooling technology—and a great deal of corporate goodwill. The $2-million project will have a lasting legacy for locals after the Games.

Likewise, official sponsor Bell is hosting the Bell Ice Cube, a 3,000-square-foot downtown celebration zone that will showcase Bell technology, sure—but will also have talk shows with athletes and live music for the crowds.

Night skating at GE Plaza in Vancouver's Robson Square (by susan gittins via flickr)

Screening Room

This is being called the first Twitter Games, with dedicated social media newsrooms popping up around the city. No other Olympic Games has been such a platform for new technology of every kind.

Official sponsor Panasonic will debut its home 3D HD plasma TV, and is sponsoring athletes to blog using Panasonic video and online technology.

Samsung scored a coup by making its Omnia the official Olympics cellphone, though the local media has been reporting that disgruntled VANOC employees are using their personal iPhones and Blackberries on the sly.

There’s even an official Olympic video game, by Sega, to win over the eyeballs of the young male and extreme-sport demographic.

Medal Ceremony

But our favourite branded promotion of the Games is by Urban Barn, which has uniquely combined a bricks-and-mortar appeal to locals and visitors with an online gimmick bound to attract even broader attention.

The furniture retailer is moving one of its employees into its Howe Street location 24/7 during the games, making it a public living room—and a high-profile showcase for their products. Store manager Robbie will Tweet, update a Facebook page and generate a live Big Brother-style feed that will be broadcast in 10 Urban Barn locations across Canada.

Step up on the Sparksheet podium: we give you the Transumer engagement gold medal.

I kept a diary of my outbound flight and kept my brand sensors receptive to all likely Transumer touchpoints. Ultimately, what surprised me is how innovative the brand engagement was online, and how little of that experience was reflected in flight.

Ground Trip

My journey starts long before I board the plane in Vancouver for Addis Ababa, Ethiopia (via Frankfurt). About a week before takeoff I scan Lufthansa.com and am intrigued by the array of programs. I offset my carbon footprint via the Climate Care program (to the tune of U.S. $79 for the 15,582-mile return flight), satisfied by the thorough explanation of projects funded via partner myclimate.org.

I select my Special Meal from among 21 options (including something unappetizingly called Bland Soft). I download and view the A340 seat map, which is not as detailed or user-friendly as Seat Guru’s, but helps me avoid a seat near the busy washroom. I find out there will be laptop power at my seat, but no FlyNet WiFi until at least 2010. Not only can I review the inflight audio and video entertainment, I can request a song—and could even make a dedication, if it were far enough in advance of my flight.

Virtual Flight

As someone who practically lives on my laptop and iPhone, I am impressed to see that Lufthansa goes a few steps beyond the industry standard electronic boarding pass and online check-in. I sign up for SMS notification of changes to my flight, departure time and gate. I install an iGoogle widget that offers the same function at a glance on my laptop’s home search page. But the killer app is MySkyStatus, which promises to liaise with social networking sites like Twitter and Facebook to send travel updates to my contacts.

Lufthansa’s mobile site proves disappointing, though—single-click access to online check-in, timetables and other airline basics are augmented with lame extras like branded wallpaper and the corporate song. The enticing invitation to “set a special mood with moving images” turns out only to be a corporate screensaver.

My favourite feature: I have a blast navigating Lufthansa’s online map, which has great interactive features for locating direct and connecting flight paths at a glance and instantly calculating mileage—a mileage-hoarder’s dream tool.

Inflight, Not So Entertained

Lufthansa doesn’t operate lounges in Canada and has a low-key presence at Vancouver airport, where I take off, so my pre-boarding experience consists of a stop at the Travel + Leisure store to pick up an adapter and a quick peek at the Olympic Store—smart Transumer targeting.

I fire up the seatback entertainment system and though a handful of recent Hollywood movie releases had looked promising from landside, 20 minutes each of the leaden Coco Avant Chanel, Cheri and The Time Traveler’s Wife convince me I should have packed a fat book.

Fortunately, nearly hidden among a selection of three-year-old episodes of Entourage and How I Met Your Mother is some great TV: the documentary Signé Chanel: La Collection and Stevie Wonder’s Live at Last concert at London’s 02 arena. The same is true of the audio, where a jazz program by Branford Marsalis and Dave Matthews Band albums mask much more interesting music by Malian lute player Bassekou Kouyate and a smart club mix by Cologne DJ Piet Blanc.

Pre-film commercials on the seatback screens are limited to one (mercifully, since German glass and solar-energy company Schueco is of minimal interest to international travelers). I find the absence of other paid advertisers odd—BMW and Mercedes, I’m thinking of you—but also wonder why some of the more fertile inflight offerings—Berlitz language courses, great aviation and fleet information and even Soduko—aren’t promoted onscreen instead. Lufthansa does a good job of hiding its rich content.

The pages of Magazin inflight magazine yield an unintentionally ironic piece on Buddy Holly’s widow—he died in a plane crash, after all—and a fun words-and-pictures feature on some unlikely denizens of Tokyo. But the needlessly detailed and complex route maps in the magazine pale to those online and the German-English bilingual layout is occasionally confusing.

Magazin lacks the essential ingredient that still keeps print inflight magazines relevant: a juicy, engaging, literate read.

Miss(ed) Connections

Paradise for the long-haul flyer is a clean, well-stocked lounge with showers. Such is the Senator lounge in the B concourse of FRA’s Terminal 1. It‘s extremely busy, but I find a seat and wait about 45 minutes for a hot shower, amusing myself with wonderfully strong coffee, continental breakfast and the International Herald Tribune (the only English-language reading material on site).

I log in via TMobile’s paid-WiFi hotspot and discover that MySkyStatus alerts (“…is now flying over Iceland on Lufthansa. Powered by myskystatus.com”) did indeed post to my Twitter stream. Several friends direct-message me to comment on the coolness of this feature.

I’m surprised how few brands are available to the frequent-flyers and premium-class travellers in this lounge. There are even generic amenities in the showers, where I’d expect to find a Dr. Haushka or Nivea onslaught. There’s a fee-for-service T-Mobile charging station, Hugo Boss and Bogner leather promos and a handful of rather dated Dell-equipped workstations. Non-stop onscreen promos for Miles & More play on lounge screens and I count five different WorldShop catalogues. Isn’t that preaching to the choir?

The last nine-hour leg of my flight is uneventful and mostly spent sleeping. (Note to self: really, pack that fat book next time.) Though I have to give Lufthansa props for all 34 large boxes of our group’s equipment, supplies and luggage arriving without difficulty at ADD.

In total I was able to amuse myself for fewer than half of my 24 hours in transit: proof that brands are seriously under-utilizing this space and time to connect with their very best customers.

I’m thinking about going to Dubai or Capetown…for my next pedicure. I’m only half kidding. Earlier this year at the One&Only Palmilla in Los Cabos, I got hooked on the Reverence de Bastien pedicure, available only at One&Only resorts and a handful of Paris spas. As a travel writer, I can conceivably plan my next several trips around natural, baby-soft feet.

It sounds a bit ridiculous, but many frequent travellers I know tell similar stories about the powerful loyalties they’ve developed to goods and services while travelling. Take the emotional rush I get drinking a French 75 cocktail; it’s not just the champagne bubbles or the memory of the silver fox who once ordered one for me at a Lower East Side speakeasy, but an alchemic memory of both. These strong loyalties and emotions help set the Transumer apart from the jet-setting shopper.

Their wants and tastes fueled by global lifestyle magazines like Monocle and Wallpaper, Transumers aren’t satisfied with garden variety items from the shop around the corner. Though Montreal-based magazine editor Claude Laframboise must nose dozens of new fragrances a month, he relies on trips to New York to buy the Krizia cologne he’s worn since the 1980s from its flagship store on Madison Avenue. Exclusivity has always meant cachet, but a product that a discerning consumer not only deems valuable but self-defining? That’s priceless.

Toronto power-publicist Ann Layton flies frequently to London for clients and cashmere, which she buys only at Ocabini. The hand-knit, hand-died garments are imported directly through the owner’s sister in Kathmandu. In an era of cheap Chinese cashmere, Layton could buy a poncho anywhere, but she seeks out the most authentic, ethically-produced goods. Sure, she could order online, but I’d say her carbon footprint is lighter walking over to the boutique while in the city on business. And eBay wouldn’t provide her with Nepalese anecdotes to share over drinks at the Dorchester.

Spafax editorial director Arjun Basu often gets asked on Twitter and Flyertalk about his distinctive eyewear, which he gets from Ottico in Vancouver. Basu lives in Montreal—roughly 3700 kilometers (2300 miles) away. Here’s a personal, recurring Transumer relationship created by one chance visit to fix broken eyeglasses on a business trip. “Our optician Anita has a photographic memory for faces,” says Dr. Brad McDougall, the store’s co-owner. “Now, when he needs glasses, we just send him a selection.” The clinic also draws repeat visits from actors and their families filming in Hollywood North, which McDougall attributes to hotel-concierge referrals (a strategy the practice has focused on) and highly personal service.

Sometimes there is not only a qualitative preference but a quantitative difference in these relationships. The Transumer seeks out the best and most efficient services and “trip chains” them on to existing travels, the way a soccer mom lines up dry-cleaning and kiddie drop-offs. Vancouver writer Neal McLennan packs brogues that need a good working over when he returns to his former lawyering base in Calgary, a corporate town with a “disproportionate amount of good shoe shine stands,” he says. Spafax’s Raymond Girard swears by the world-class toothsmithing he gets from a Harvard-trained dentist while he’s on business trips in Santiago, Chile—at a fraction of the going rate in Toronto, his home base.

So how do brands get in touch with this border-blurring demographic? Client databases and e-mail lists are a first step in establishing where your far-flung customers might be located, how to keep in touch with them, and what will bring them back. Tools like Backtype can help track in real-time who’s buzzing about your brand across a vast swath of the online world, what social media monitoring company Radian6 calls “finding your brand evangelists.” The next step might be partnering with travel applications like Dopplr or TripIt, customizing promotions, or even syncing CalTweet-ed events with peak travel periods.

Online travel and lifestyle information is a powerful tool in cultivating a nomadic following, but think, too, of these high-flying consumers as you drop your URL or IATA code onto your packaging or ads. A shopping bag on a plane might just be better than a business card in hand to reach this transitory tribe.

©istockphoto.com / blackred

A few years ago, a colleague told me about a small airport in an exclusive enclave in South America where it’s still the glamorous, golden, jet-set era of aviation. Everyone was bronzed, smoking, sipping generous cocktails and there was no security lineup in sight. Those times are long gone, but I still love airports for what they represent: a taking-off point with limitless potential, a limbo-zone between the known and unknown and a glamorous gateway to future adventures.

In reality, what they often truly are is a bad food court, a mediocre shopping mall and a land of lineups and rudimentary—if not downright rude—service. Here are a few features of my favourite airports that show a true understanding of the needs of the Transumer, plus some ideas I haven’t experienced, but would love to see.

Golden Green Gate

Challenge When I’m purchasing my airline ticket, I’m usually focused on value and, I’m ashamed to say, unlikely to tack on an extra cost for carbon offsets.

Spark The new carbon offset kiosks in the international terminal at SFO in San Francisco have the green-flyer equation right. Once we’re behind the security line, trip hassles behind us, the excitement of a trip at top of mind, the Transumer midset prevails and green is an easier sell.

Health and Happiness

Challenge I maintain that the reason most travelers are grumpy and discontent is…indigestion.

Spark Offer us clean, fresh, unprocessed food at airports and everyone will be happier. My mouth is watering at news that the San Jose-area farm C.J. Olson Cherries has opened a kiosk selling its wholesome cherries, dried fruit and nuts in Terminal B at SJC. Amsterdam’s AMS has long been one of my favourite airports because of the fully stocked Food Village Supermarket at Schiphol. Why aren’t there more boutique grocery stores within airports? Whole Foods, we’re looking at you.

Quiet Please

Challenge The clever “cell phone zone” waiting areas offered by many airports have eased up the queues of cars at arrivals level. Now can airports please ease up on my ears with cellular-free quiet zones that demonize public cell-yell the way most public buildings have done with smoking?

Spark Many of us would pay for quiet-zone access, as the nominal but successful $10 entry fee program for B.C. Ferries‘ quiet Seawest Lounges proves. Why don’t the folks at Bose open pay-per-use, noise-cancelling headset equipped quiet zones at airports?

Zip-a-dee-doo-dah

Challenge With the hassles of full-day car rental, insurance and gas top-up, I usually can’t be bothered to hop into a set of wheels and explore the local area on a layover.

Spark The rental companies won’t like it, but I’m a car-sharing devotee who would rejoice at airport Zipcar locations. Holding me hostage in the terminal doesn’t make me spend more; it just makes me hostile!

Shop and Fly

Challenge Where are stores like Monocle and Flight 001 when I really need them—that is, in the airport terminal?

Spark I’d love to see more co-branded retail stores in airports, run by the brands Transumers have already come to trust. The first outpost of a planned chain of Travel and Leisure stores (in Vancouver’s YVR) has a good mix of luggage, travel gadgets, maps and guides and other reading material. Roots, with its sturdy leather bags and comfy gear, is also a great fit at the airport.

Paperless Planes

Challenge People lose things at airports because we’re juggling too much stuff—boarding pass, mobile, identification, hand luggage…

Spark The new SKIP system at 24 Japanese airports lets you do paperless mobile check-in, payment and seat selection using bar-code technology. Cell-phone-pay vending machines, transit passes and other conveniences have been de rigeur in Asia’s top cities for years; it’s time for the rest of the world to catch up!

Paging all Airplane Geeks

Challenge Plane-spotters are a largely unrecognized group of aviation fans that could easily be converted into airport Transumers.

Spark Facilities like the observation decks at Sydney’s SYD and Tokyo’s HND put plane-spotters in the centre of the terminal action. Frankfurt’s FRA offers guided behind-the-scenes airport tours which often stop at the runway intersection that’s best for plane-spotting. Tours are a great way to get aircraft aficionados into the terminal instead of cowering outside runway fences, where they can pose a security risk—and don’t contribute anything to the Airworld economy.

For the first time in eight years airports stand to regain some of their onetime stardust, through cultural phenomena like Wired’s Terminal Man, pop-philosopher Alain de Botton’s Heathrow Diary and George Clooney’s upcoming adaption of Walter Kirn’s seminal AirWorld novel “Up in the Air.” Are they ready for their closeup?

Blank Check-Out

Challenge While the rest of the world moves 24/7, most hotels still cling to a dated 19- or 20-hour day concept with rigid check-in and -out times and nightly rates that penalize the fast-moving transumer.

Spark Top hotels, like GHM’s The Setai in Miami, The Peninsula in Beverly Hills and Raffles hotels have offered the courtesy of flexible in and out times; many more offer late check-out – for a fee. Airport hotels can learn from the “by the minute” practices of long-distance and cellular companies and charge guests for the number of hours they stay. By-the-hour business models like the Yotel capsule accommodations at London’s Heathrow and Gatwick airports and MetroNaps sleep pods at YVR in Vancouver show that the demand exists for something between a full-night hotel stay and snoozing on an airport lounge bench. The Fairmont hotel within YVR in Vancouver also offers short-term nap rates for stays in “Quiet Zone” rooms that offer comfy respite for connecting travellers.

Outlet Shopping

Challenge The frequent business traveller can develop rug burn from crawling under hotel desks in search of enough outlets for charging multiple devices.

Spark Hotels need to start by installing more, and more accessible, power outlets. Rooms geared to business travellers should showcase the latest in docking and charging stations. The devices could be placed in rooms through partnerships (with tech brands like Monster or Belkin, or design-conscious brands like Lessiv or Bedford). They could even become a potential for-sale item (think: the pre-WiFi internet cable) as part of in-room boutique offerings. Better yet, make the device solar (like iSun or Solio models) and make it an integral part of the desk design – but off the hotel’s power grid.

Savings and Loan

Challenge Attempts to travel light can be easily foiled by just one or two tasks that require more than your smartphone or PDA – not to mention what happens when that device doesn’t work well, or economically, overseas.

Spark In-room and loaner iPods are already common at boutique hotels; loaner cell phones should be de rigueur at business hotels (Fifteen Beacon in Boston has them), along with hotel switchboard call-forwarding to your temporary local number. Extend the service to having hotels provide loaner laptops, the way that Air Canada and IBM did on some flights a few years ago. It’s an opportunity to partner with brands that want to expose travellers to their latest and greatest technology.

Brand Muscle

Challenge An indoor fitness centre, no matter how well appointed, is never as good for you as getting out of the hotel and exploring a new locale.

Spark Hotel programs providing route maps and stylish loaner bicycles (like Jorg & Olif city bikes at Opus Hotel in Vancouver, Bianchi Nyala cycles at Four Seasons Marunouchi in Tokyo and BMW models at Fairmont) prove that this trend has legs. The Wynn Las Vegas has top Callaway loaner clubs for its golfers; Four Seasons Whistler will outfit you in Prada or Spyder ski gear. How long will it be before a savvy retailer opens something like Nike’s innovative Runner’s Lounges in a hotel near Central Park or Hyde Park, along with a retail store specializing in sporting goods for people on the go?

Scentology

Challenge A hotel room just can’t quite feel like home when canary-coloured shampoo and watery body lotion are the standard amenities.

Spark In a world where travel restrictions on liquids and gels mean bringing your own full grooming kit isn’t possible, more hotels are adopting top-end creature comforts: just witness what in-room placement with Four Seasons has done for L’Occitane en Provence’s Aromachologie Volumizing Shampoo and Repairing Conditioner, now a cult favourite product that L’Occitane sells as part of a popular travel set. Recognizing that scent creates powerful memories, hotel groups from Shangri-La (with its exclusive Essence of Shangri-La scent) to Starwood (which has unique “scent logos” for each of its brands, from Sheraton to St. Regis) are creating custom fragrances. The Intercontinental Montelucia in Scottsdale went local and unique, using the essence of a rare night-blooming cactus for the signature Joyambrosia scent for its spa. But One&Only Palmilla won my heart with the most personal touches of all: local agave-rich suds and a bespoke sewing kit with hand-wound thread to match the colours in my wardrobe.

In the hotel industry “the box” is insider jargon for a typical room. Which makes it especially apropos and exciting for transumers to imagine more hoteliers thinking outside of it.

©istockphoto.com / blackred

As a travel writer and editor, I’m on the road – or, more accurately, in Airworld – at least 100 days a year. I should be the ideal transumer, ready and eager to spend on goods and services that will make my travels more comfortable and memorable. But I rarely find them (notable exception: Emirates High Street shopping, especially its On the Move section, is like a transumer wish list). Why is this, when there are so many inspiring products passengers would love to sample, if only they were exposed to them? Here are a few ideas for airlines to better cater to travellers like me:

Pillow Flight

Challenge Untold dollars have been spent on chiropractors and massage therapists to correct what I call Painful Airline Seat Syndrome: head pitched forward, neck bent and cramped, lower back unsupported and sore. Sure, I’ve seen those inflatable pillows and seat liners that make airline seats more comfortable for sleeping or working, but why should we have to pack anything extra?

Spark A kiosk service, similar to InMotion’s DVD rental centres, could rent high-quality back-support cushions (we’re looking at you, Obus Forme) that travellers return at their destination airport. Better yet, why doesn’t an airline collaborate with a seating-design specialist, such as Herman Miller, to create truly ergonomic seating? We’d pay a premium for that kind of comfort.

Premium Coach

Challenge Long flights leave passengers in the back of the aircraft feeling bereft of the amenities, sleep and comforts of the front cabin. Most airlines already have the infrastructure to manage onboard sales, yet curiously few inflight or duty-free selections appeal to the long-haul passenger’s immediate needs.

Spark All the little creature comforts of a first-class experience can be sold as luxury-for-less perks to coach passengers, from amenity kits (containing useful items like antibacterial gel, cleansing wipes and an eye mask) to premium noise-cancelling earbuds or spa-quality personal care products. A wellness lifestyle company like Dove could create whole-aircraft campaigns – lavatory products, amenities for sale, a relaxation audio channel, its enlightening “real beauty” commercials (content in their own right) – around its brand in this way.

Skybrary

Challenge Airport bookstores are often glorified bestseller racks, offering little to the discerning leisure passenger or business traveller who lacked the time or foresight to pack a book. When I do find an airport bookstore gem, I often end up leaving it at my destination so I don’t have to lug it home.

Spark Audiobooks and e-books should become a standard offering on airline IFE programs, perhaps brought to passengers by natural partners like Amazon or Audible.  Content could be available on seatback screens, or ideally downloadable to passengers’ own devices. Inflight magazines wary of this kind of competition should take a hard look at their own pages: Why are we largely giving curious readers small morsels of destination and travel information in print, when what they crave on a long flight is a satisfying literary meal?

Marketers need to realize that an airplane is more than just a vehicle– it’s a unique and powerful medium through which brands can connect with and truly serve the savviest of travellers.

Next month: The Transumer looks at what hotels can do to satisfy the consumer in transit.