Vietnam Airlines Has a Questionable Business Class Seat. The Crew Made Me Not Care.

Vietnam Airlines doesn't get much attention from Western travelers, but between its growing network and Ho Chi Minh City's position in Southeast Asia, it's a carrier plenty of connecting passengers will run into sooner or later. This flight turned out to be a tale of two products: one of the weakest hard products I've flown this year, paired with some of the warmest service.

Ground Experience

I arrived at Tan Son Nhat on a connection, so I can't speak to check-in — but I can speak to the terminal, which I genuinely could not figure out. International flights use Terminal 2 while the shiny new Terminal 3 handles domestic only. The layout is confusing and the signage doesn't do you many favors. After wandering a while I spotted a small sign pointing upstairs, and the third-floor level turned out to be a completely different world: more food, far fewer people, better light, and lounge access. Skip the chaos downstairs and head straight up.

If you need souvenirs, congratulations — you've found the promised land. Shops line the entire terminal, even inside the gate areas, while actual food is scarce. And these salespeople do not play. I walked away with a model plane, a stuffed bear, and a bunch of candy. Well played.

Business class gets the Lotus Lounges, and I chose Lotus 1 for a very scientific reason: the map showed it as the bigger one. It's bright, airy, and calm, with greenery throughout and world-class ramp views. The hut-style seating pods are a fun touch and the Wi-Fi password is printed right on the tables. Where it falls short is substance — the food was underwhelming for a flag carrier's home lounge, and power outlets are few and far between. Average-plus: low on amenities, but calm enough that I didn't mind.

After leaving the lounge, I found another aircraft parked at our gate — a Sichuan Airlines jet leaving after us — while every departure board insisted both flights were using the same gate. Zero announcements. Our aircraft pulled into the neighboring gate at 13:16, and the delay was eventually communicated via a whiteboard, on which someone had handwritten that we'd be held ten minutes for "operation reason." Why this warranted a whiteboard but not an announcement remains one of aviation's great mysteries. The whiteboard was optimistic; we pushed 19 minutes late.

Seat

On paper, this recliner does recliner things well. Legroom is good, the seats are wide, and there's both a legrest and a footrest — possibly the most recline I've ever gotten out of this seat type.

In practice, they're simply not comfortable. The base is hard, the back is hard, and the headrest is hard as a rock. By mid-flight my lower back genuinely hurt. The legrest mechanism barely works; you have to grab it and help it along. And all that impressive recline becomes a problem the moment the person in front of you uses it.

Amenities

There isn't one. No power outlets, no USB, no screens, no menus, no amenity kit — nothing at the seat whatsoever. There's a sticker promising Wi-Fi, and I did eventually connect to a streaming IFE portal through it, but it was limited and painfully slow. The volume and channel controls still built into the armrest are a fossil from an era when this seat had entertainment to control.

Catering

With no menus aboard, the crew came through reading out the options — steamed rice with seafood, minced beef fried rice, or stir-fried chicken with noodles — a charmingly analog system that matched the whiteboard energy of the day. Before the food arrived, a flight attendant set my tray table with a tablecloth, followed by a hot towel. While everything cooked, the cabin filled with the smell of garlic bread, so when the basket appeared you already know what I asked for.

The minced beef fried rice was not the most appetizing-looking dish I've been served, and looks could not have been more deceiving — it was so flavorful, and the garlic bread was borderline exceptional. Basic in concept, surprising in execution. At some point the crew decided I looked hungry and came back with more bread, which I took as both a compliment and a challenge.

Service

This is what saved the flight. The greeting at the door was genuinely warm, cold towels came around after boarding, and there was a proper pre-departure beverage service with a choice of coconut juice, champagne, or water — rarely given on a regional flight.

It held all the way through. A flight attendant opened the lavatory door for me. I pressed the call bell for tea before descent and someone appeared in about five seconds. On descent the crew came through with a tray of water glasses. The lavatory even had a floral display made, on closer inspection, out of paper towels — genuinely impressive work.

Cleanliness was solid throughout, with one memorable exception: what appeared to be moss growing on the underside of my tray table.

The Verdict

The hard product here is genuinely poor — a dated, uncomfortable recliner with a broken legrest and a total absence of amenities. And yet I walked off smiling, because the soft product is outstanding: one of the better meals I've had on a regional flight this year, and warm, fast, caring service from door to door.

Credit where it's due, too. Despite the gate circus and a 19-minute-late pushback, we touched down in Hong Kong just six minutes behind schedule.

Would I fly it again? For the right price, absolutely — but I'd board with my own entertainment, a full battery, and zero expectations for the seat. Come hungry, and let the crew and the catering carry you to your destination.