This little Christmas getaway was eight months in the making. We booked our preferred seats – side-by-side, middle of our section, away from toilets and the unavoidable galley noise – and got confirmation immediately. We were smug. Job well-done. Pats on our backs.
Two weeks before our midnight flight from Melbourne to Bangkok, the airline decided to play musical chairs with our best laid plans.
TL;DR: Dennis played the “senior” card at check-in and we got exactly what we wanted.
First, they split us up – opposite sides of the plane. Apparently because nothing says “Merry Christmas” like being separated from your travel companion for seven hours. After several strongly worded emails and one perfectly timed phone call during their business hours, they graciously moved us back together.
Right in front of the galley. Next to the fragrant toilet.
Eight months of planning, and we were now seated in what I can only describe as “economy class’ revenge.”
Fast forward to check-in, three hours before our midnight departure. Dennis strolled up to the counter with the casual confidence of a man who’s been around the block for 70 odd years and has learned a few things about airport negotiations.
“Look,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially, “I’m over 70 and I need constant hand-holding from my companion.” He gestured at me like I was some sort of emotional support human. “You’ve got us split up, then together but next to the toilet. I just want to sit next to my friend in a seat that doesn’t smell like regret and industrial cleaning products.”
The ground crew manager looked more embarrassed than apologetic and offered: “The flight is full,” tapping furiously at his keyboard. “But let me see what I can do.”
After a whole five minutes of dramatic keyboard clacking, he looked up with the expression of someone who was busting to go and now found relief.
“I’ve got you sorted. Middle of the cabin, side by side.”
Our original seats. The ones we’d booked eight months ago.
Dennis smiled serenely. “That’s very kind of you.”
Still processing the absurdity of the past two weeks, I settled into our reclaimed seat briefly contemplating documenting our minor victory with photos of the three-course meal service. Amuse-bouche, beef short ribs for Dennis, barramundi for me, cheese platter to finish.
But honestly, I was too exhausted to even dig the phone out of my carry-on. We extended the beds and passed out somewhere over Southeast Asia.
The food was probably lovely. And sometimes, that’s all you can ask for.
After a 7-hour layover in Bangkok, I stayed awake on the Bangkok to Frankfurt leg as Nicole requested photos of a typical Thai Airways flight. So without too many words:
And for dessert: Mango Sticky Rice with Mango Creme Brulee. Sorry no photos for this – my mouth was much quicker than the iPhone camera. Being a long 12-hour flight, we were also served a second meal:
Thank you for the food photos. I think too much style, not enough substance.
ermmmm… thank you?