Bon Voyage

"Hellooo! Just letting you know that my next couple of flights are with Emirates. I expect first class service, a fanfare upon my arrival and a luxury bed in first class. Thanks x” read the e-mail I’d sent to my very good friend / Emirates French Speaking Passenger Agent extraordinaire, The Jellyfish, a couple of months back.

Being one my ex housemates and close friends, the email was taken in the spirit of which it was sent. You know, in a “hahaha, hohoho” but “go on love, work your magic” kinda way.

“Well, I can’t upgrade you or anything. But send your flight details and I’ll see what I can do.” came the intriguing reply.

Fast forward to a rainy Wednesday morning in Sydney, and having been dropped off at the airport by the Boyfriend, who was on a later flight, I made my way to the check-in desk. (And while we’re on the subject, Sydney Airport has got to win the excessive signage prize about not - I repeat NOT – making flippant comments and jokes about bombs etc during check-in. I’m guessing Aussie humour isn’t tolerated in the aviation industry).

“Did you pack your bags yourself?”
”Yep”
”Do you have any sharp instruments, explosives or flammable items in your bag?”

The signs above the check-in desk burned down on me.

”Nope”
”Ok. And…oh. Do you know someone who works for Emirates?”
”Yes…”
”I have a message on my screen. It says ‘tell Jo to enjoy the flight and Bon Voyage’ from The Jellyfish.”
”Haha! Brilliant. That’s my uni friend. She said she’d do something. That’s nice.”

Check-in completed and my morning cheered by my friend's good wishes, I went through the now familiar procedures before boarding flight number eight. The A380 was half full, so I stretched out along the three empty seats next to me. Headphones plugged in, I settled down to resume Series 3 of Gavin and Stacey and demolish my brunch tray.

“Excuse me, are you Joanna?” I looked to my right and saw two air hostesses standing at the end of my row.

Just as I opened my mouth to say yes, I noticed what they were holding. One clutched a polaroid camera. The other held a large, creamy coloured cake.

“Oh my god. She didn’t.”

“Yes she did. This is from The Jellyfish.” and with that, they placed the cake, complete with iced lettering, in front of me.



“Enjoy”, said the air hostess before snapping a photo of my bright red face, much to the bemusement (and I expect, jealousy, as I later saw someone else ask for a Polaroid) of the other passengers.



I want to make a joke about ‘friends in high places’. Or joining the mile pie club.

Bahaha.

But I won't.