Poppy did the first flight of her life in style - she flew 1st class. This was also the first time I had ever flown 1st class, and having now had that experience, I have absolutely no idea how anyone could ever expect me to travel in any other way. To put it mildly - "1st Class is da bomb".
A couple of flights ago I travelled Premium Economy instead of Economy and declared then it would be a struggle to return to being a pleb in cattle class - (No offence). The only difference in Premium Economy compared to Pleb Class was you get priority boarding, a glass of champagne when you board, nicer food and wine and it's on proper plates with proper cutlery. Sounds pretty good doesn't it? And I would agree. But now I have travelled Upper Class and that is a game changer.
We arrived at Gatwick, dropped our numerous bags off within minutes and headed to the Virgin Clubhouse - already the experience was far greater and relaxed then any other flight experience I had ever had. Sitting in the Clubhouse is absolutely nothing like sitting in an airport. We were given a very nice complimentary breakfast - I had Eggs Benedict with Smoked Salmon, Pineapple Juice and Coffee. Jon had something - can't remember what, and Poppy had a fruit salad. After we had decided Poppy was too keenly eyeing up the breakfast of the man sitting at the next table we took her to the other end of the Clubhouse. At this end there was a room with toys for children to play with, (what else would you do with them?). Poppy quickly grabbed something plastic and started munching on it - her version of playing with toys. Nearby there were older kids playing Wii Sports, teenagers on complimentary lap tops and a dark room with bean bags and an X-Box. Our flight was delayed, but I didn't care, I went and got my complimentary manicure. The key word here is complimentary - everything is free!!! (especially for me as Jon paid for the tickets).
Our flight was called and off we went to board our plane. This was the one place I was disappointed. The good part of this is because we were on Upper Class we could push Poppy all the way onto the plane and take the buggy on board too - even the buggy was allowed to travel in style - no cold noisy cargo hold for the Mother care Urbanite! The disappointment was - no red carpet! Doesn't sound much I hear you holler, but let me explain.
I'll set the scene - imagine you have saved up, or even maxed out your credit card to go on holiday. Money isn't in abundance so you're flying economy. You've been at the airport 3 hours, you queued at check in for a hour even though you booked in online. After all, you still have to drop your bags off, so online check in has done nothing for you at all. You've queued for an hour to get through security. You watched the men in suits go through fast track security enviously as you've stood there with your belt and shoes in hand waiting to be frisked. You've overpaid for a rubbish sandwich and bottle of water and ate it sitting on a hard plastic chair as hundreds of people trudged on around you. You've made it to the gate where you find a vending machine and a bunch of even more uncomfortable chairs. People have decided to sit in such a way that they have all taken up the middle chairs, thereby only leaving the end chairs, meaning you have to split from your partner for this particular bit of waiting. The time of boarding comes and goes and then someone announces the flight is delayed - no shit Sherlock, we're supposed to be taking off in 5 mins and we're all still in the airport. You're more bored than you have ever been, or at least since the last time you had to catch a flight. Boarding finally commences. Upper Class go first. Then Premium Economy, people with young children (Apparently they do have to be with you - telling them you have a young child back at home doesn't work), and people with mobility problems are next. Then you're allowed. You're at the back of the queue though as everyone stood up and hung around the desk the moment to the Air Stewards arrived. Whats the difference anyway - wait at the gate or wait on the plane, either way you're waiting.
It is at this waiting part of the game that I always noticed and pondered over the red carpet. There are always two stewards (is that what they're called?) letting people onto/into the tunnel of dreams - i.e. the gangway that gets you on the plane. One checks the boarding passes of the few hundred plebs and one ushers the special people on board - people so special, that apparently they need a short red carpet to walk from the steward to the gangway one metre behind. What difference does that red carpet really make? Do the people lucky enough to have a flat bed waiting for them really demand a red carpet. Is the red carpet the icing on the cake for them? Is that red carpet the reason they paid stupid money to fly? I scoffed at the red carpet - the red carpet is stupid - the red carpet does nothing - I WANT THE RED CARPET!!
Anyway, I'll drop the red carpet rant and get on with describing why I can never go back. We stepped on the plane, the buggy was stowed for us and we made our way to the nose of the plane. Our own special little compartment for 16 special people - and I was one of them. We appeared to be the last on and everyone looked at us with that kind of fake smile that screams "ahhhh a cute baby. Oh shit a f@*king baby is going to be here. First of all no red carpet and now a screaming brat". I returned their smiles and we sat down and started to make ourselves comfortable by getting out the cornucopia of toys we had bought with us to keep The Popster amused. We were handed a glass of champagne and we sat back and thought about the poor people at the back of the plane, squashed and irritated. I put my feet up.
Poppy was an absolute dream throughout the flight. She sat and quietly played for around 7 hours! She had a tactical power nap at around the half way point and slept for the final 30mins, not even stirring when we landed, (She did however, wake up as soon as we disembarked). She had faced those doubters and converted them - now they were all thinking, and some even came and told us, "what an amazing baby! She's been brilliant". And apart from the poo incident an hour into the flight she really was, (She was having some chill time lying on my front, I was wondering why she was so warm and then thought to check her bum - after lifting her off me I saw a big brown stain creeping right across her back). All I can say is baby changing facilities are extremely cramped on a plane. If I was to improve Upper Class at all I would say, apart from the personal red carpet of course, is baby changing could be better. I don't mean space wise, I mean someone should do it for you. Just think how nice that would have been! "Excuse me, Jenna, (Personalised service after all, she introduced herself to everyone individually at the start), would you mind dealing with this nappy? I think there may be some poo and a change of clothes required". Now that would be service.
So the reasons for "Once you've gone Upper, there's no going back" are:
- The amount of luggage allowance you get - we could easily have bought practically everything Poppy owned. and we almost did.
- The Virgin Clubhouse - now that is the way to wait.
- Priority boarding
- The seats! And I didn't even convert to flat bed yet - that is for the return journey.
- The food - I had a delicious lemon tart for dessert.
- The fact that you sit at a table and use actual plates and a knife and fork!
- Fast track through passport control at the destination
- Your luggage comes off first - and is bought to you! No conveyor belt wars - no bruised shins.
The last part wasn't actually much help to us for this trip, but I can imagine somewhere like New York it would be great. St Lucia airport is so small and there are so few flights going on that all the luggage is out by the time you get there - and that is even if you get there really fast.
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