Travel: Tales from first class flying
Keri-Ann Stanton writes of the best and worst thing that happened to her at Dublin airport recently
The best and worst thing happened to me at Dublin airport recently. We were asked to make ourselves known to the ground staff. Given that a five-day girls’ reunion had resulted in one rather large, swollen, bruised ankle that required wheelchair assistance for me (I balked at using it at the last minute), I wasn’t too alarmed. We handed our boarding cards over and the words "Upgrade to first class" were scribbled over our passes in a blue pen. My mate Michelle and I looked at each other wide-eyed and did not utter a word. Now was not the time to ask why, or to gush, but to board as quickly as possible before people changed their minds. It is already a novelty to fly on a plane where you walk upstairs or can stand at a bar. But that pales in comparison with the bubble of an Emirates first-class experience. I checked afterwards, and this trip would have set me back about R80,000. Things are different at the front of the plane, in your own private suite. You don’t have to wrestle your ...
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