From time to time, it’s instructive to ponder priorities if suddenly one became super-wealthy.
A flashy Aston Martin might suit some people; a £120,000 watch or piece of jewellery could do the trick for others. But for me, it would be to fly business class on all flights of more than five or six hours duration.
That’s because, frankly, it’s the difference between approaching a long-haul journey with a degree of excitement – or dreading it.
So, here I am on board a Cathay Pacific 777-300ER aircraft, loaded with 361 passengers, of which 45 of us are in business class and about to experience the airline’s latest Aria Suites.
I’m bound for Perth, which means 12.5 hours to Hong Kong and then another seven hours to the Western Australian capital. A long, long-haul.
Selling business class flights is highly competitive. All airlines keep trying to reinvent this particular wheel, offering ever bigger TV screens (Cathay’s are now 24 inches wide), more privacy (my Aria cabin comes with its own door), reliable wi-fi (no charge) and ever more impressive menus (I’m looking forward to the ‘pan fried cod with supreme soy sauce, accompanied by Cordyceps flower, dried pear and pork shin soup’).
Airlines are no different to hotels in that the level of service is what counts, just as much as the ‘facilities.’ And you need to feel you’re in safe hands when cruising at 40,000ft.
Fly business with Cathay and you enter the plane via a separate door from those sitting in economy or premium economy. No queuing; no scramble to find space for your bag in the overhead lockers.
Mark Palmer enjoying business class on board a Cathay Pacific 777-300ER aircraft
I’m bound for Perth, which means 12.5 hours to Hong Kongand then another seven hours to the Western Australian capital. A long, long-haul
Fly business with Cathay and you enter the plane via a separate door from those sitting in economy or premium economy. No queuing; no scramble to find space for your bag in the overhead lockers
On boarding, I practically step into the cockpit, where the pilots are filling in forms. I pop my head through the door.
‘I only have 50 minutes to transfer in Hong Kong – so give it full throttle, please,’ I tell them, in jocular fashion.
‘No problem, you’ll be fine,’ says one of them.
Then, flight manager Kerry, who comes from Hong Kong but lives in London, notices that I have a slight sniffle and brings me a hot lemon with honey.
‘This might help,’ he says.
It does. Just as soothing is the natural wool seat and suede walls of my cubicle. I like how the lighting can be made brighter or dimmer – and you don’t need to operate the controls via one of those devices that look like telephones with a lead attached.
It’s all done by touching either the big screen or a smaller one next to the seat. And you get a smart leather Bamford bag packed with various potions and lotions.
Whereas with BA you have to clamber over the legs of your next door neighbour (an annoyance that’s due to be phased out), if you have a window seat on Cathay, the herringbone configuration means there are two seats in the middle and just one on each side.
I’m impressed by the storage, which includes a sliding drawer and an additional cabinet on the upper console, where the headphones live, along with a mirror on the inside of the door.
On boarding, I practically step into the cockpit, where the pilots are filling in forms
Then, flight manager Kerry, who comes from Hong Kong but lives in London, notices that I have a slight sniffle and brings me a hot lemon with honey
Perhaps the best feature is the wire-free charging. Simply place your device on the console table equipped with a built-in gadget and it fires up a phone or iPad.
Of course, what you’re really paying for when flying to the likes of Australia is the chance to lie flat. In my Aria Suite, the bed is not only comfortable but the duvet is soft and sumptuous.
I had asked Kerry to wake me for breakfast, which he does, bringing another hot lemon with honey – and wondering if I am feeling better.
Much better, as it happens. But it’s going to be a rude shock when I’m in steerage the next time I fly long-haul.
