Flight of a Virgin virgin
By Lady B, published on 15 August 2010
Let’s make one thing crystal clear from the outset: Here at Prodigal House we are dedicated and loyal fans of British Airways. This is much in the same way as we love (unconditionally) 007 and Aston Martin. BA encapsulates to us the very best of British. OK, so we know BA does not possess quite the sex appeal of Daniel Craig driving a DBS but what it lacks in sex appeal, it makes up for in bucket and spade fulls of courteous, calm, unfaltering, charming (yet firm), utterly unflappable reliability. When you slink down into your favourite seat on the upper deck and are greeted by your name with a glass of champers, you can’t help feeling that your holiday has already begun. Equally, on any return stretch, the surprisingly delicious tea and that BA theme tune make you feel like you are home already.
So, we have been deeply saddened to see our beloved and infinitely reliable airline get into a spot of bother or two recently over eye-watering losses and various bouts of strike action. “But how will we get to New York?” we asked, with a quiver in our voice, when the strike dates coincided with a hop over the pond. There were two options: book flights with our one and only and take the risk of cancellations (for better for worse) or go looking elsewhere (a fling behind BA’s back). Gulp. “What to do?”
This felt wrong, unfaithful, disloyal. But in the face of adversity you keep calm and carry on. So it was with heavy hearts indeed but our chins decidedly up that we stoically decided to fly the nest – not forever you understand, just the once. We were being “sensible”.
It did not take long to choose who we would commit this adulterous act with. There was only one on the short list. It would have to be the ponytail swishing, eyelash fluttering, sparkling, spanking…Virgin Atlantic!
Now, we’ve heard a lot about this scarlet harlot of the skies. Friends of The Fool have reported crazy nights hanging out at the bar on the upper deck sipping Grey Goose. And fluffy goose down duvets and pillows to sink into when the Goose gets all too much… But until now, forever loyal as we are, we had not been tempted. We were Virgin virgins.
Feeling slightly nervous we stepped into our Virgin limo which glided us seamlessly into the dedicated Virgin entrance at Heathrow. Much to our delight, security was a dignified and (more importantly) quick affair and before we knew it, we were making our way into the Virgin Clubhouse.
Now, a lounge is a lounge right? There are going to be leather sofas and a few ‘designer’ armchairs and a selection of olives and peanuts. Yup that pretty much sums it up.
WOW!! How wrong can you be?! This was like stepping out of Terminal 3 into the future! Forget the Clubhouse, this is like a Star Wars set (can’t decide whether Episode 3 or 1 though as there is a postmodern 70s feel to it all). Time to kill? Fear not: there is a spa, a hairdresser, a library, a playroom, a pool table, a bar (not just a rack of Cab Sav and warm Pinot Grigio but a cocktail-shaking, martini-pouring, champagne-popping bar) and of course a restaurant – all courtesy of Virgin and all ergonomically/aerodynamically/futuristically designed within an inch of its life. We were stumped as to where to sit and in a panic chose a chaise longue (big enough for three people) which, unlike some other clearly more seasoned members of the Clubhouse, we couldn’t quite bring ourselves to recline on. So we sat uncomfortably on the edge of our all too hastily chosen seat.
Waiters milled around tending to every Virgin whim: copious champagne, burgers and chips, delicious snacks. (We felt truly unglamorous ordering a Diet Coke.) This, we pondered, was not just another airline, this was another world.
After an hour of negotiating the vast expanse of our Virgin chaise (and chewing on a range of complimentary sweets from huge sweetie jars), we were ready to embark on our Virgin voyage. We transferred from our futuristic Star Wars set through the now more dowdy than ever Terminal 3 towards the flight with anticipation.
Yikes. Our seat was right in front of the glistening, shimmering, mirrored bar. Now, five years ago, this would definitely have been a positive thing (not far to go for a top up) but nowadays, we find the prospect of being in such close proximity to a bar, err, when we are going to try to sleep, somewhat challenging. It also has to be said that with sleep on our minds, we couldn’t help feeling that our ‘upper class suite’ was somewhat narrow. Not quite the ‘heavenly bed’ that folklore (perhaps Grey Goose fuelled) had lead us to imagine. However, with Virgin socks on our tootsies and dinner ordered, we (despite some fleeting thoughts back to BA) were well ensconced. The food was “fine” (can it be anything better? That’s a whole other story) and we were soon asking Yuri (our flight attendant) to convert our ergonomic pod into a bed. (Contented sigh).
So, talk us through ear plugs. How is it possible to sleep with two great big pieces of orange foam jammed into your ears, cutting out some (but not all it would seem) noise in exchange for the sound of your own pulse pounding in your head? We don’t get it. And what is it with eyemasks? Why would a piece of black foam over half your face, tied around your head with an elastic band induce a state of sleep (and we don’t care that iconic Holly Golightly wore one)? We honestly do not know but these were the props we found in our Virgin “snooze pack” which we resorted to in desperation to drown out the sound of Yuri chatting loudly to a (now drunk) Virgin passenger at the neon/mirrored bar that lay at the foot of our Virgin bed! (Did we say anything? You may ask. Of course not! We’re British so we’ll just complain about it now if you don’t mind! Tsssk!)
“This is not the kind of flight you want to sleep on” we thought as we tossed and turned. No wonder The Fool‘s friends had stayed up until the early hours enjoying the Goose. We were seriously considering ditching the earplugs and doing the same … But eventually the mirrored bar emptied out and Yuri resumed his tasks…quietly (to our relief). Sleep at last. Until…more Black Eyed Peas comes booming out of the overhead speakers – time to land. Now we LOVE the Black Eyed Peas. Fergie is our song siren, but this was one wake up call we would rather have done without. Are we getting old? Self-doubt consumed us.
We left the flight and attractive, manicured flight staff behind thinking perhaps we were just not cut out for this fling with Virgin. We were after all, creatures of relative habit!
Well, we were prepared (and had booked) to give it one more go on the return leg and so it was three days later that with some amusement and not an inconsiderable amount of embarrassment that we exited onto Madison Avenue in the pouring rain to see a huge stretch limo awaiting us. Crumbs! An eight seater limo with a bar/music/DVDs just for us. In typical English style we sat buckled up, abashed at our new found but transitory bling status. Where was Fergie (of the above-mentioned Black Eyed Peas and not the cash-for-access variety – just in case you wondered) when you needed her?
Boarding the flight home, we couldn’t help feeling we were returning to a nightclub on student night. Glitter was still there, purple leather and, yes, there she was…Fergie singing “mas che nada” over the loud speakers.
Well, we thought as we sipped some Virgin champagne, we are sorry for our indiscretion. We feel like a bit of a dirty stop out. Innocence is lost and gone forever. And “mas che nada” we love you BA. Our flight of fancy on the disco plane was eye opening (and OK, kinda fun) but the ponytail swishing, eyelash fluttering, sparkling, spanking scarlet, harlot of the sky is simply not marriage material.
BA please forgive our infidelity – it has only made us realise how much we love you. You are our one and only. Well you and Daniel Craig.
Flight of a Virgin virgin
Let’s make one thing crystal clear from the outset: Here at Prodigal House we are dedicated and loyal fans of British Airways. This is much in the same way as we love (unconditionally) 007 and Aston Martin. BA encapsulates to us the very best of British. OK, so we know BA does not possess quite [...]
This section is supported by the patronage of:
3 Responses to “Flight of a Virgin virgin”
-
Wow! Sounds like a tremendous experience! I will one day loose my virgin air virginity…
-
Take it slow and be gentle Dennis.
-
Patito
19 August 2010
I’m with you on the Peas and Daniel Craig, Lady B!