Like Senator Ron Eggles on the ABC satirical comedy Hollowmen we boarded flight EK 0441 and turned left.  Before the turn could be completed we were intercepted by a smiling Flight Attendant.  It turns out a First Class boarding pass not only comes with a private suite, a very generously poured glass of Dom Perignon 2003 and the best pyjamas I’ve ever worn, but also personalised service that would satisfy a member of the royal family. We were ushered to our suites, which to the consternation of the staff (yes, they shall be known as staff from hereon) were one behind the other, each with a window seat.  G had reserved these seats weeks ago but such is the privacy of First Class that you literally cannot see any other passengers unless you are in the two middle suites where there is a panel that drops down between you.  Fortunately there were a couple of these free so once we’d taken off the staff arranged our things in the middle suites and we settled in.  G had her bed made straight away and sat there happily cross-legged whilst caviar and assorted accompaniments were served as we pored over the menu.

The instructions from the staff were that we could order anything at any time and it would be prepared for us upon request.  With 13 hours ahead of us that left a fairly broad scope for excess consumption both from the menu and the wine list that beckoned like some sort of vineous siren on the rocks of a very expensive hangover. There was also sleep to be had, on a mattress complete with quilt, stretched full length as comfortable as in the bed at home.  But there was plenty of time for that… to the menus.  A glass of Chateau d’Yquem Y and a seafood entree later it was time to again mull over the menu.  Hmm, beef and a big red seemed to be the recipe for a good night’s sleep and just to be sure that slumber was achieved, dessert with a suitable wine plus a cognac for good measure.  Les Miserables was suddenly one of the greatest movies I’d ever had the privilege of watching on a plane.  G, by this time, was well and truly asleep.  So much for the interconnected suites.  Just time to take a photo of the sunrise out the window before the best sleep at 33,000 feet I’ve ever had.

How time flies when you are having fun… and sleep.  Thirteen hours of First Class living later we arrived in Dubai.  You know, one of the other nice things about First Class travel is that there is no expectation you should mix with the riffraff from Business or, heaven forbid, Economy.  The First Class aerobridge connects to the plane and we all depart before they even consider manning the bridges for the rest of the plane let alone actually allowing any of the peasants off.  So it was we walked alone from the plane to the First Class lounge for breakfast.

The first class lounge is a little like the building in which NASA used to assemble the Saturn V.  A little like it in that it is about the same size.  Very unlike it in areas such as serenity, luxury and a complete absence of rocket parts.  Stretching the entire length of the terminal, with restaurants, luxury duty-free, spas and quiet areas to relax, it was difficult to even compare the place to a regular airport (much less a rocket assembly plant for that matter).  After a sumptuous breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, mushrooms etc (there goes the bike fitness) and a lay down in the Quiet Room for an hour we were escorted to our A380 for the flight to London.

Somewhere above, oh I don’t know probably Turkey, I drank the tastiest, most expensive wine I’ve ever unknowingly drunk.  A Chateau Cos d’Estournel from Bordeaux. From the first sip I knew it was something that I would have trouble justifying the purchase of, short of selling the bike… or the dog… actually I’m not sure we’d get enough from the sale of Phoebe to cover the cost so you’re safe for now Phoebes.  When we returned home I thought I’d have a look to see just how much it was worth, thinking that if it was $100-$200 it would be worth it for a special occasion.  Well, bring on the multi-million dollar lottery win please… it was $1000 per bottle.  Stupidly not arming myself with that important piece of information prior to boarding I only had one glass.

Punctuated by visits to the Business Class bar (I must say Business Class was a little on the shabby side, and so packed in.  How does one fly in such squalor?) and a shower (yes, there are showers in First Class on the A380) the rest of the flight passed relatively uneventfully till at Heathrow we bade farewell to our First Class life to rejoin the real world at the luggage carousel waiting for our bags.  At least they were the first ones off.