If you ever get the chance, fly first class. You think you know it’s amazing, but you don’t know. You are only thinking it, after all.

None of this sitting with the chattel and hoi polloi! Nay, you get to further chill out in comfortable surroundings, offered food on platters, the opportunity to avail of massages (Olivia did), a shave and a haircut (I did not), ye olde arcade games (yes I did very much) and as many sweets as you can smuggle out in your multiplicity of pockets… In preparation for a 12 hour flight to Japan, this is not simply a good thing but outright bliss.

And then you get on your flight, which will be more comfortable than any other flight you will ever take. The space of three people is yours! A bed is made for you! Attractive stewards and stewardesses, clearly kept up front for the Better People! It’s the free whiskey what does for it in the end, though. Olivia claims silver spoon service, but when a flight crew apologises that they don’t have the swill you normally drink and in apology and embarrassment offer you as much of their otherwise expensive 30+ year old single malt as a body can hold down in its place, you know you’ve made it.

Okay, so making it would be a bit strong: in order to fly first class we had to get stranded at the beginning of our trip in London for 8 or 9 days, toiling through ill health and an uncertain situation of shelter amid seeming endless phonecalls to right what wrongs fate dealt, thus missing out on a significant portion of our time in Tokyo, but at least we went in style.

But who cares about this? Me? With that much whiskey, coffee and gid? Ample. Reward.
Man, I should have gotten that haircut – I had the beginnings of a Final Fantasy character with that unbrushed mop. Wait, I was going to Japan – intentional? I don’t know any more! The important thing is that we got to Japan and it was the beginning of The Awesome.
Next up: Ikebukuro.
Photo by Olivia, obviously not in Japan.