Emirates is 40 years old this year. Since beginning in 1985 with two planes borrowed from Pakistan International Airlines, the Dubai-based carrier has expanded to transform the world – connecting more than 150 cities from its hub in the Gulf.
Many British travellers choose Emirates due to its excellent range of UK departure points – Birmingham, Manchester, Newcastle, Edinburgh and Glasgow as well as three London airports – and its easy onward connections to Asia, Africa and Australasia.
I have always flown economy on Emirates and found it superb. But due to an unusual set of circumstances I booked a business-class ticket from Singapore to Melbourne. This is one of the “fifth freedom” routes the airline operates, flying between two foreign countries as extensions of services from Dubai. Other examples include Barcelona to Mexico City and Miami to Bogota.
The “hard product” was unimpressive, but there was much to enjoy along the way.
This is the timeline (all in Singapore time) for my adventure in the front of the plane.
Friday 3.35am: British Airways cancels flight BA11 from London Heathrow to Singapore just 80 minutes before departure due to mechanical problems.
Friday 6pm: After a swift switch to Singapore Airlines organised by BA, I arrive in the Southeast Asian city-state over two hours behind schedule, but still in good time for my 9pm onward departure to Melbourne on the Qantas budget subsidiary, Jetstar.
Friday 7.40pm: Jetstar cancels flight JQ8 just 80 minutes before departure due to one pilot going sick. Staff decline to rebook passengers on the last Australia-bound flight of the night on Qantas. The only options: a replacement Jetstar flight the following evening, or a refund. As I have plans for Saturday night in Melbourne, I choose the latter. But aircraft heading for the Australian city are extremely full.
All times from now onwards are on Saturday.
1am: Finally I find a seat on Emirates flight EK404 that is due to leave Singapore at 10.10am and arrive in Melbourne at 5.35pm. Fares are extremely high – far more than the £300 I paid for my Jetstar flight. So I transfer some American Express Reward Points to my Emirates Skywards account. The only seat available for points is in business class: 87,000 miles plus £52 in cash.
8.10am: I visit the Emirates lounge, hoping to forage for breakfast. The staff are welcoming and helpful; the view out to the western runway is excellent; but the food is unappetising and reminiscent of a budget hotel.
8.30am: After a coffee and some fruit, I go to play in the airport – which has a vast amount of interest “airside” – including the amazing shuttle which swerves between terminals 2 and 3.
9.30am: My flight is boarding from Gate C23. I reach the location and meet a throng of passengers queuing for the security search (which is carried out at the gate in Singapore). But then I spot a sign inviting first and business class passengers to jump the queue. The same happens inside the gate lounge; I am invited to use a dedicated airbridge and breeze straight on board. Rows 1 and 2 look wonderful; but these four-abreast seats, it turns out, are first class. Business class is seven abreast.
9.40am: Champagne or fruit juice? I make myself an awkward customer. I’d like a cup of tea, please. (I later discover in Australia that Emirates has dispensation to offer champagne but no other alcohol while flights are on the ground.) The tea, served in a proper-sized mug, arrives five minutes later. Just what I needed after a stressful 30 hours.
10.05am: The captain (who is Swiss) welcomes us in English. Flight time seven hours, he announces.
10.10am: Departure time comes and goes while we stayed firmly anchored to Gate C23. Surely first and business class passengers get to depart sooner than those down the back? Oh wait …
The Boeing 777 pushes back around 10 minutes late and joins a long line of budget aircraft waiting to take off.
10.45am: Finally take-off, which you can watch thanks to the on-board cameras.
11.10am: With the seat belt sign switched off, time to examine my surroundings. I make notes: “Business class buys you lots more legroom, but hardly any more elbow room. With seat dividers that draw their inspiration from the Berlin Wall cutting into the width profile, everything is narrow and, dare I say it, coffin-like. The closest experience I have had to this is in the dentist’s chair.”
11.30am: I am still trying to make sense of the machinery and operating systems. Emirates and other airlines really should run training courses for passengers before they are allowed near a business class seat so they can make the most of the experience.
Besides the electronics, there is lots of analogue machinery, with buttons to raise or lower the screens, the seat recline and a mysterious button marked “Press”. I don’t.
11.55am: Lunch is served. The first course is a beautifully presented mezze and side salad. Lovely dressing, condiments and a weighty wedge of cutlery. If I had a complaint, it would be that the pitta bread was cold and past its fresh best. Goodness, how quick one can acquire a sense of entitlement in the posh seats.
This being Emirates, you can choose from a vast range of alcoholic drinks. Boringly, I stick to water and try to get on with what I shall loosely call “work” for The Independent. Mains power at every seat, WiFi from the digital stone-age. (To be fair, I have flown on other Emirates flights with much better connectivity).
1.30pm: For anyone pretending to work, the in-flight entertainment is distracting. The screen is bigger in business class than economy – but that is because it’s further away. Live TV from BBC News and CNN; more films than you could watch in a lifetime of flying; and in audio, all the UK No 1 hits in each year from 1952 onwards.
My scientific analysis reveals the best year in music history for chart-toppers was 1969. They included:
Emirates, like other airlines, sometimes tones down films. But Jane Birkin’s gasps are there in solid mono for everyone to hear.
2.20pm: All that tea and water means it’s time to visit the “lavs”, as they are touchingly known in the aviation world.
Ultra-clean, with fresh flowers, Voya perfumes labelled Man and Woman, toothbrushes and combs.
2.30pm: Having managed at least several minutes of work, time for a nap. The seats are described as “angled lie-flat”. In my book, “flat” means horizontal. But on the plane I was on, Emirates’ business class seats decline to recline any closer than 14 degrees to the horizon.
Perhaps because of the rather exhausting prelude to the flight, I sleep deeply.
5pm: Yet another benefit of business class is about to reveal itself. The excellent cabin crew asked earlier in the flight if I wanted to be woken for “light bites” – a snack, not a ritual. I declined, and woke just 45 minutes before touchdown – long after the meal service. But they fetched me some beef with rice.
It tasted jet-lagged, with fatty meat and tired rice – not the crew’s fault, mind. I also had a glass of Shiraz, my only alcohol of the trip.
5.45pm: Touchdown in Melbourne. With a short taxi to the gate, the door opens five minutes later, and the premium passengers can leave. The small delay added to my time pressure. But thanks to Australia’s super-speedy passport control system (look for a kiosk as soon as you get off the plane and follow the simple instructions), I made it from inside a 777 to inside a taxi in nine minutes.
Conclusion: A fascinating experience. But since many of the elements (great staff, fabulous entertainment, lots of food and drink) are common to economy, I will be happy to return to the back of the plane – knowing that life in front of the curtain isn’t that much better.
