Part One is here.
The VS045 flight from London Heathrow to New York JFK carried 371 passengers (including 17 crew) and was piloted by a man called Antony. I missed his surname. I suppose I could email to find out, or I could just make something up. I shall do the latter. Captain Antony Andthejohnsons.
I settled into my seat. It had lots of buttons:
The plane took off. I thought it was probably quite unlikely that the whole thing was a joke by this stage.
I looked out of the window. There were clouds:
The food was good. To start with, I had a salmon and avocado salad:
Look, the salt and pepper pots are shaped like little chubby planes. The salad was followed lamb with minted new potatoes, green beans and carrots:
I skippped desert, and went for cheese and biscuits with a glass of port:
Then I watched Sex & Drugs & Rock ‘n’ Roll, the Ian Dury biopic. It was good, Andy Serkis was excellent. I also watched Lizzie & Sarah, which wasn’t very good. By this time, I was beginning to feel a bit tired and fancied a bit of a nap. I pressed a button on the seat and the whole thing slowly flipped over, transforming into a completely flat bed. It was quite magical.
And then we landed: