Los Angeles to Australia — is this the world’s longest single-leg flight? Well, no, it just feels like it. Actually it’s number fourteen. But at just under 16 hours, it’s right up there.
And you might not be in peak form to begin with, if you started your journey many hours earlier in New York…and then jogged (or at least trotted) for 25 minutes at LAX to catch your connecting flight at a departure gate in a galaxy far, far away.
So when you finally take off at half-past midnight (and your body clock says 03.30), you’re probably not in the mood for a three-course dinner.
But wait…the next scheduled meal is breakfast. That’s twelve hours away. You last ate (if you were lucky) four or five hours ago. No problem. If you’re travelling business class, the airline considerately provides one of those forms (like the breakfast menus that hang on hotel doorknobs): you can fill it out to request a meal to be served later at (a) a specified time, or (b) whenever you ask for it.
You fill out the form. You tick (b). And then the flight attendant asks, “And when would you like it served?”
Seriously, guys. We are beyond tired. We are terminally knackered.
“Umm…perhaps when I‘m awake?” (Please. It’s already one a.m. Which part of ‘whenever you ask for it’ was unclear?)
Four or five hours later, only marginally awake, you request your meal, and are told it will be ready in about 25 minutes.
Eventually your fogged brain starts to wonder why a pannini takes 25 minutes. And in 25 minutes you have the answer, when you’re served baked chicken with vegetables.
One small mistake. Could happen to anybody, right?
But twice? Two wrong meals? Because the Constant Companion’s dinner wasn’t what he’d ordered, either. And we’d both handed in a written request form.
Nope. To paraphrase Lady Bracknell, once may be regarded as a misfortune…twice looks like carelessness.
Attention, cabin crew: there’ll be after-school remedial reading classes for the lot of you till further notice.
Oh, and another thing — no amenities kit. Did I mention this was business class? Did I mention the journey lasts 15 hours and 50 minutes? Many of us would like, at the very least, to be able to clean our teeth once or twice over that time. Our nearest and dearest, and anyone else we breathe on, would thank you.
Not good enough, the Winged Wallaby.