Bottled it Well that's a first
I too get to go in, as photographer. While she's being goaded into sitting in the pilot's seat and wearing the hat and everything. This is awesome! Fucking hell! During a brief silence, I say to one of the flight crew: "looks a bit complicated, this". Yeah, it is, apparently. I'm like, I'm a software engineer! I should understand complicated stuff! And he says well maybe I can stick around and help fix some of the bugs. We laugh, and go back to our seats.
Hang on, what? Bugs? There'd best not be bugs in the software for flying this fucking plane! Especially since over the tannoy we're told this plane had been towed over from the maintenance bay a bit late too. Overrunning engineering works, eh?
Aaanyway, we're done and now it's time to enjoy the seat. I've been lucky enough to fly first class on BA's 747s and 777s in the past but this is a first time on the A380, the flagship product (I think?). Flyertalk has led me to believe that there's not a huge difference, but I'm convinced the suite is way bigger than on the other planes. There seems to be lots more space. So, obviously, I took photos of all the bits and bobs.
There's also some floor level storage space on the outside of the suite, a wardrobe deep enough to put my bag in. This is much better than side bins or overhead lockers.
The pyjamas are handed to us without even being asked for sizes, they've clearly eyed us up. There are slippers and an amenity kit and, oh, some champagne. Yes please. And a refill, why not. And the menu. I feel very pleased with myself, as usual.
Table is set for two.
The amuse bouche is a little pesto cornetto with cheesy goo in it.
My starter: red mullet. Sounds like a hairstyle, tastes like a fish.
Helen opts for a salad.
Her main is beef. We'd pre-ordered, and it had worked, though we could have changed our mind once on board if desired.
My guinea fowl was decent. Not outstanding, but decent.
Helen's dessert looks so nice, I'm offered one to go alongside my ice cream (unpictured). I say no thanks, I'm saving some room...
... for the cheese plate. I failed to have any port though. D'oh.
The champagne keeps flowing and the staff are great, really playing up to us because of the birthday girl. And then, a new one on me, they just hand us the bottle rather than keep serving us. Fuck yes!
I get really bloody angry that someone else in the cabin - this is first class, not the back seat upstairs on a London bus - is regularly playing tinny crap music from their phone speaker and almost gear myself up to complain to the staff, but in the end I leave it. It's rude but it's not really spoiling things too much.
The burger is very bloody nice indeed. I didn't eat the chips. Only just over a month to go...
I've got enough time for one film, so I opt to watch Eddie The Eagle. Throughout all the feel good bits - which is basically all of it - I'm welling up and by the end I'm in floods of tears. Always emotional on planes, innit.
I also take some photos of America. We're sat on the right hand side of the plane, and there's an announcement that if you're sat on the right hand side of the plane you should look out the window for good views of Las Vegas. Since I'm the only one with my window already open, a member of crew comes to lean over and take a glance too. She tells me Vegas is ace and she's seen Penn & Teller, a pre-mauling Siegried & Roy, and Guns 'n Roses. Do you have to be "X <and> Y" to get a gig in Vegas then?