The thing about flying Business Class is that’s it’s dangerous. Once you’ve had a taste, I fear that I may never be able to turn right on a plane again. Yep, it was that good.
Mrs Woog and I had the pleasure of flying in the pointy end of the plane on our way over here. I was lucky enough to be given an upgrade from my father in law and Mrs W used her points (I don’t think any lap dances were involved) to get an upgrade. I was quite delirious at the prospect of a flat bed for the trip over the New York and knew it would be a great help in fighting the jet lag which for some reason seems to be so bad coming from Australia to here.
We parked ourselves in the lounge early. Just to make sure we could eat as many hash browns as we could and give that free wifi a nudge. Not one champagne was consumed because I was under strict instructions from Rob to make sure that we “kept ourselves pretty” at all times. Sure, it was also 7am, but I still think it showed some restraint on my behalf at least.
Once we were seated I promptly burst into tears. There was ALL THIS ROOM. And unlimited FRENCH CHAMPAGNE. And pretty people asking us if there was “anything, anything at all we needed?” It’s been some time since someone asked me that. We had menu’s to peruse. THERE ARE MENU’S and nuts and aperitifs to drink.
There were also pyjama’s to get changed into. Because that’s what they do up that end, out of the fancy clothes and into the comfort straight up. Even though it was daylight – they still do it. Quite strange and yet quite fabulous. Champagne and comfort – is there any wonder I was crying? We also had to choose which films we would watch. FILMS. I never watch them at home, never go to the movies so there were plenty for me to watch (oh my stars I sobbed through Revolutionary Road. Have you seen it? I was BESIDE myself and had to compose myself in the bathroom afterwards).
Speaking of the bathroom, it has a view! And fancy mood lighting too! We all know how I feel about mood lighting. More space, flowers even in a vase in the wall, fancy schmancy creams and hand washes. Business time!
Lunch was served. ON A TABLECLOTH. With real cutlery. And GLASSWARE. And butter. Neil Perry out did himself with his mustard vinaigrette.
Did someone say Yamba prawn salad? Oh alright then.
Mrs Woog went with the pork. She’s good like that.
And I went with chicken (who AM I?). Looks a little nicer than the chicken or beef options you get to peel the foil back from isn’t it? They were DELICIOUS.
And then there was a cheese plate. And cognac if required. We rolled a substantial amount of Pinot Gris and discussed all sorts of things with the lovely Karen our hostess with the mostess. I got chatting to Jim a host with the most who took over while Karen had a sleep (did you know they get to go and have a rest? Me either!). We stood in the kitchen whilst he explained to us all the various compartments and a few tales from the good old days. He has been working in Business or First class for 35 years – imagine the things he has seen! Back in the day when first class travel was the BUSINESS business, they would cook lobster to order, drink the best wines in the world, shuck oysters and there were most certainly NOT pyjama’s to get changed into! Now that was travelling.
We slept, drank, laughed and talked and talked all the way through to New York. When we flew over Manhattan and I saw that we were here, really here, my stomach flipped over a few times. All those places you’ve seen, all your life in books and films and TV is HERE. And so are you. Wow.
The drive into the early evening is another moment I won’t forget anytime soon. We were driving through suburban Queens, nothing special and then…
Bang! There she was. New York City basking in all her summer glory!
The jet lag is slowly kicking in and rendering me slower as each hour passes on. I have been SO excited that I have been unable to sleep and have had about 7 or 8 hours in total over the past 3 days. While travel internationally always reminds me that this world isn’t such a big place, Australia is about as far away as possible from everywhere else in it. I also know that no matter how old you get, that thrill and excitement of hopping on a plane and using your passport never gets old.
I hope it never does.