As I write this post my 28 hour journey has injected even greater cynicism to my writing. I hear people’s eyesight has been put at risk by the Tory obsession with destroying the NHS. austerity and competitive tendering have seen a number of blundered eye operations leading to an enquiry. Next year we must see the back of this right-wing dysfunctional government.
The security at Manchester is archaic with new staff being inducted on one of the busiest airport days of the year. Presumably as is with the rest of modern Britain they are on Zero hours contracts. An economy growing faster than the Eurozone but based upon the exploitation of the workforce.
Emirates Economy class was as usual as good as it gets, this time as the reclining seat fed my face with a flat screen I put my legs over the top. The started selfish character in front wisely decided to return to the upright position. I’d recorded my disillusionment with the economy class recycling situation in a earlier post.
Arriving at Dubai I’m reminded of the scene from Star Wars were every sector of the universe is represented. It’s a shrine to capitalist madness and so I find a quiet coffee shop in the corner for my 3 hour stopover.
At the boarding gate I become slightly bemused by the fact that we take off our shoes to attend Korean restaurants and houses but Korean ladies wipe their unclean plastered feet over airport seats and tables! Bizarre. A Korean boy is caressing his iPhone as if it has replaced any carnal pleasure he might have anticipated…bless. There are also assorted “It’s” from the Adams Family aside fat battered legs with bruises that suggest domestic humiliation.
My ear continues to throb with the infection that is likely to induce brain meltdown at any second. Awakening passengers squint menacingly, struggling to focus, why do they forsake their obvious need for an optician. I surf finding out that Paris Baguette, a Korean cake chain, has moved in adjacent to the Louvre. The shit Korean bread manufacturers mission to become the McDs of pastry! Heaven help us.
I chat to a jovial African who is off to Seoul for the first time, I suggest he stays within its boundaries and that he dispenses with any global niceties such as “good morning”, “please” and “thank you”. He’s amused by my cynicism but I predict a change in his standpoint in the not too distant future. Suddenly theirs an impromptu k-pop dance performance which triggers more feelings of dismay which soon fell into the subconscious.
Stepping forward to avoid the crowds I am unceremoniously upgraded to business class! This has happened to be only twice, both times on Emirates. Was this fuelled by my previous passenger survey and disparaging comments about reclining seats? I don’t know but it’s time to indulge!
I settle in seat/bed 25F sipping on my Moët and canapés. We have 20″ TV’s and an immense entertainment system plus a lounge bar at the rear, it truly is exceptional but so is the market price. The fillet steak is exceptional, the Te Muna Road Pinot Noir to die for. The single estate Quintodo Portal Colheita Tawny Port (2000) in tandem with the Chocolate Mousse and cherry compote.was enough to generate resurrection in the tired east of passengers. It truly is the best flight I’ve ever had and I now understand why the landed gentry and soap stars travel like this.
My impending landing in Korea is preceded by quick visit to the loo for a refresh. I knew I was close as this involved cleaning the toilet seat and wash bowl. Obviously wealthy citizens of SK have toilet habits I don’t relate to (I shan’t comment further), it’s time to begin our descent into Seoul.