This is where it all starts…
An uneventful ride to the airport in the back of a plush, well equipped car. Sunday papers, bottled water and an assortment of lollies only akin to an English sweet shop is the lead into a deserted Perth airport. No change there. Swiftly checked bags, passports perused and body scanner machine avoided, we were through to the Qantas Business Lounge. Muted colour palette, silently percolating coffee and slightly bemused passengers dotted around the place.
Hong Kong is experiencing poor weather so further delays are looking a strong possibility.
Enter plane, take first on your right and deposit carry on bag in overhead locker; first extracting the iPhone and Mac Air for unsightly novice-type behaviours during the flight. Settle back into depths of the chair. Panel of flashy lights to my left, sizeable screen on the wall in front and a foldable table. Nifty built in compartments housing perfectly padded earphones and a small backlit mirror. Not sure if I’ll be using the latter as there are only so many occasions that one would want to be reminded of the inevitable puffiness of face and blood shot eyes in any flying experiences. But, hey, I appreciate the gesture, Cathay Pacific.
Business Class Seat 11G
The seat of choice
Good position, a gazillion gadgets and did I mention the sheer vastness of it all?
Chance to chat more to my friend with whom I have been delicately deseeded of my travelling virginity. Don’ t worry, I am amongst friends. She is great. Cool, calm and collected. Kindle in hand, she settles back for what will be another day at the office, so to speak. Not like little ‘old’ me who, at times, forgets that I have been catapulted from a fairly sheltered upbringing in the Home Counties (thank you very much) of Blighty and landed head first in an Antipodean Adventure. From this far land, I have travelled more than ever. Unfathomable. Thank you, K. You have brought so much more into my life; laughter, long lunches, foreign affairs (sounded good) and stuff.
Seat belt clunk-clinked, animated safety video observed (and, no, I didn’t take out my lifejacket to test it - I am a risk taker, you know). CHECK. Travelling pants re-arranged and subtly sneaked selfies amongst the sincere sobriety of BUSINESS CLASS. Oh my!
Take off completed without glitch. THANK GOD. Business class menu and wine list hand-delivered. Okay - getting a tad carried away now. Let’s blame the altitude. Seriously, this would be a great gig; writing poetic prose for airlines… Breakfast arrives more swiftly than one can possibly imagine. Crisp white linen, napkin laid, bone china and real cutlery; these guys have thought of everything.
Forced my way through pistachio granola and apricot compote. Had to decline the mushroom fritata and stir fried noodles. Seriously, I’m going to be on this flight for a while…and I may have inadvertently over dosed on Metamucil sometime between 3:30 and 6:30 this morning. I should have just stuck to the coffee!
A Mac gives a certain sense of self when set amongst these Business Class types. Okay, so I may not be selling shares or writing up business acquisition proposals but, hey, I look the part.
They’re not to know that I am busy tapping tireless tripe to myself and having a BLOODY good time!
No comments:
Post a Comment