Travelling time was over twenty hours between Greece and Vancouver and on the journey we changed time zones by ten hours and airplanes three times. We’d saved up a bunch of points, and by adding the same amount we’d normally pay for two off season tickets, travelled business class. Athens to Frankfurt to Toronto to Vancouver.
From Frankfurt to Toronto the seats are little isolated pods that turn into narrow beds with high walls that don’t let you communicate with anyone.
Unless you’d care to make a phone call, sir, that activates with your credit card at an exorbitant rate.
Hi Mina, I’m in the pod next to you, oh wait, it’s gone to message. Of course. We’re in an airplane so her cell phone’s off.
Now what button do I push to get this thing into an upright position? Must be the one with the wiggly lines. Hmm … feels nice, but I don’t really need a massage right now. There that’s the right button. What the hell? My leg’s caught under the screen. And the tray table’s still up so I can’t see the buttons. Just have to pick one. Ooo that does feel good, but I really must be going now.
Ah. Right button.
Finally, I am in an upright position within my pod. By twisting my neck and pushing my chin over the top of my pod’s wall, I can finally communicate with Mina.
Maybe business class is designed for people who don’t get along.
But I’ve figured out what it’s really about. When you’re lying there in that pod, it’s no big trick in case of emergency to pop a lid on it and have everybody pre-packed in instant coffins.
— Alex Morton
