There is no better feeling than being upgraded to business class on a Qantas flight. I’m already ensconced in my chair/pod upstairs on the 747-400. It’s flight QF12 and I’m on my way to Sydney from LAX.
It’s quiet. The lighting is so inventive I spend the first 20 minutes of the flight admiring it. Blues, greys and tans to simulate the sky outside at 10pm.
I’m nervous though. I’ve just left my son for the first time for eight days with my husband. I don’t doubt they’ll be fine, but I’m edgy. Business class is helping me to unwind, though, as are the flight attendants. “I never thought I’d be that kind of mom,” I yammer. “You know, the kind who would be nervous about separation anxiety.”
Esther and Anna are sympathetic. They are wearing gorgeous uniforms. A very Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress with a first nation style (Aboriginal)-inspired print. The uniforms are about to be updated i.e. changed. Anna is sad about it.
We take photos of each other on my brand new iPhone – purchased for the trip so that I can Skype with my son and husband. I email them to Anna. I’m not allowed to use them unless I clear them with Qantas PR first. I promise to do that when I get home.
I’m on a business trip to Australia’s Gold Coast (hence the Business Class upgrade) and I am wrestling with my emotions. Despite being in the middle of a sold-out flight I am alone. I am an adult with adult interests (granted I’m reading The Hunger Games on my iPhone), and I don’t have to take care of anyone. In fact, Anna and Esther are being paid to take care of me. I revel in the solitariness and at the same time count the hours until I return to my family.