Flying First Class

Day 1 was a mixed day. The drive to Heathrow took nearly there hours, rather than the hour we were expecting. This meant that we only had about a hour in the Ethihad First Class lounge. We had been looking forward to champagne, a massage and some interesting food. We settled for champagne and coffee, coupled with a quick dash to Duty Free for Fo to get her perfume fix. Still it did mean that we only had to stroll a hundred yards to the departure gate, a mere fifteen minutes before take off.

Flying first class was everything we imagined it would be. And, like a hyperactive and excitable five-year-old, Fo immediately started pressing button, opening compartments, chatting up the chef and checking out her bling-covered pyjamas. She also found time to tip orange juice over her husband during one expansive gesture.

Fiona, fast asleep in First Class
 

More orange juice (and champagne) followed and, before we had time to register it, we were airborne and ordering our dinner. Fo opted for a light veg soup flavoured with harissa (she was following a special jet lag diet), I had a platter of Arabic mezes, a lamb ragout with couscous and a warm date & fig pudding with cream, all washed down with two glasses of fine Bordeaux. After that it was into our jim-jams and down to sleep. All in all, a fine way to travel.