To Germany, in style

Although I’ve traveled a lot, and in doing so have racked up airline miles galore, I haven’t had much of an opportunity to fly business class, which is an experience unto itself. I finally got the opportunity to do so for work this week, when I was asked to attend a set of meetings in Germany and Switzerland. Given the distances involved, I was eligible for business class, and so booked my travel with glee. So much glee, in fact, that I think I was more excited about the flight than the fact that I was going to visit two spectacular European vacation destinations.

The experience did not disappoint. I flew Lufthansa, and knew that I was in for some special treatment the moment I sat down in the comfy leather chair. This thing needed its own on-screen instruction manual – with a push of a button I could move it in any direction I wanted, change lumbar support, tilt into “relax” mode, or go fully flat into “sleep” mode. I was served gourmet snacks throughout, provided newspapers and reading material, and practically waited on hand and foot by a flight attendant assigned specifically to me. My only slight disappointment was dinner – appetizers and dessert were delicious, but I was forced to eat my pre-ordered Muslim meal, which was nothing more than a spicy, greasy chicken dish, tasting like it had come straight from a bad desi wedding. Meanwhile, my fellow business class passengers got to dine on steak and fish. The price I pay for eternal salvation, I guess.

The travel was so pleasant, in fact, that it never felt like the long flight that it truly was. Part of me felt guilty. What right had I to such luxury, when my fellow passengers were squeezed into cattle class a few feet behind me? Ordinarily, my 6’ 3’’ frame would be scrunched into a tiny seat with my surgically repaired knees pushing into the seat in front of me, praying fervently that the passenger in front would not tilt their seat too far back. Sleeping would be out of the question, and even going to the bathroom would require asking permission of the five passengers seated between me and the aisle.

But I bet airlines do this on purpose. They give you a taste of what air travel should be like (and was, at one point in time), then warn you by saying that you better continue to buy the more expensive ticket, otherwise look what could happen to you. Nefarious, I tell you.