Emirates, your reputation precedes you. From your history of honeymoon upgrades (although we were unfortunately on fully-booked flights both ways), to your leniency with an already generous luggage allowance (30kg checked plus 7kg carry on), your not merely edible but delicious menu, and, last-but-not-least, some of the largest economy seats in the air – we were content in the knowledge that you could deliver us, well-fed, well-rested, suitably-pampered, to our destination. We weren’t disappointed.
The welcome we received wasn’t quite as theatrical as this photo, but it may as well have been – we were pampered to the extent we forgot we were sitting in economy class seats!
Credit: World Stewardess Crews
Because you see, when you fly long-haul, it’s the small things that matter:
- An email reminder to check-in online, so as to avoid the queues;
- When you decline an offer for a drink, and are brought a well presented, emirates-branded tumbler on a serving tray with spring water, “just in case”;
- When your Coke is poured into a frosted glass in front of you (and it’s real Coca-Cola, not the cheap, generic brand), and comes accompanied by ice cubes and a wedge of lemon;
- When the mutton curry reminds of you of home (and all the food, in fact, keeps you salivating for seconds);
- When the flight attendant sneaks you an extra miniature bottle of baileys for later;
- When, if your choice of meal has run out, you are offered something from the business-class menu, instead of being forced to eat the alternative economy meal;
- When you can charge up your iPhone and check your email over WiFi.
Yes, you won us over. And to top it off, you’re affordable as well. Flying economy to Europe will only put you back between AU$1500 – $2000 return if you buy at the right time. (Ok, a little pricey if you’re traveling on a shoestring, but in my opinion, it’s worth every dollar.)
Although we had flown with Emirates once before, we had forgotten how good the meals were. I ordered the tuna nichoise salad, tender lamb tagine with spicy Moroccan flavours, carrot cake sprinkled with cinnamon and served with creme anglais, and the fluffiest bread rolls with my favourite Lurpak butter… topped off by a glass or two of French wine. 🙂
My husband opted for the Cajun chicken. The meal was served with a rich, creamy sauce, roasted potatoes, and what I thought was a good kick of spices… Evidently not enough for him, as he sprinkled more salt and pepper on his dish, claiming;
“I like to use everything they give me. There’s limited space an a plane so it must be important to use the condiments. I make no excuse for that.”
I secretly swipe up some of his gravy with my bread roll when he’s snapping photos out the window. Delicious!
You aren’t left wanting with Emirates!
The sixteen hours pass pretty quickly. We cross ten date lines and as a result are in a constant state of night for almost the whole flight. I gaze out the window and for once, see the moon looking up at us. It hangs outside seemingly so close, as if I could reach out and touch it.
We fit in three or four movies that we had picked from the online entertainment guide months before (note: do NOT watch “We need to talk about Kevin” on your honeymoon – Moonrise Kingdom is a much better choice), did the obligatory flick-through of the back-of-seat magazines, and played with the new in-flight-entertainment interface (that he actually helped design at work).
Eventually the “starlit” roof of the cabin fades to the orange-pink of dawn, and then to daylight. We open our windows and gaze into the morning below. The first glimpse of green-patchworked forest and farm beneath us brings an immediate smile to my face. My Europe, too long have I been (five years!).
Breakfast is served – and it’s better than what you’d get at some hotels!
And before we know it, the seat-belt sign lights up and we are on our descent. Justin is engrossed in The Avengers, desperately trying to finish it before we have to disembark. Meanwhile, I’m watching a movie of another kind out the window, as we roll down the runway – my own Hollywood blockbuster.
The Kuwaiti boys in front of us are so excited they jump out of their seats as soon as we touch down – much to the dismay of our squealing attendants.
I look over at him and he seems just as excited – snapping photos through the window of the first “Czech dude” he sees… A luggage attendant hauling bags off our plane.
Finally on Czech soil, we pass through customs and passport control (literally one man at a doorway that nods us through without a second look), and step outside. I see the first foreign sign and it hits me deep in my heart.
Europe. I’m home.
