‘Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Dubai International. The local time is five minutes past eight in the morning, and the temperature, twenty-one degrees. The cabin crew and I would like to thank you for choosing Emirates Airlines and look forward to flying with you again. Please take care whilst opening the overhead lockers and make sure you take all your belongings with you. Disembarkation will be from the forward cabin.’
My fingers couldn’t help surreptitiously stroking the shiny walnut surround of my comfortable recliner one last time. My fellow passengers all looked nonchalant, as if they flew business class every day of their working lives. Having spent the last few years flying EasyJet to and from Athens, I didn’t think I’d ever get used to this whole other world of business class travel. It felt like some kind of private club I’d suddenly become a probationary member of, and I had to hide my excitement when I was offered a glass of fizz before take-off in case they all thought I was far too gauche to be there.
I’d never been able to sleep on a flight before, cramped elbow to elbow, as I always had been, between Alex and some random stranger – somehow, it had always been my turn to have the middle seat. The person in front of me would always have their seat leaned back so far their head was in my lap and I’d be tempted to ask them if they’d like a head massage. Behind me, of course, would be the inevitable restless child or someone with long legs who just couldn’t help kicking the back of my seat every time they moved.
This was my first night flight with my new job and despite that rush of excitement that kept flooding my stomach, I’d had the most refreshing night’s sleep. As I’d drifted off to the land of nod I’d wondered what on earth it must be like in first class, if it was this comfy in business. Drowsy after a couple of champagne cocktails and a delicious Kir Royal, I’d snuggled down, imagining golden chambers with fluffy clouds for beds and pillows filled with angels’ wings. There the passengers would be fanned by unicorns while vestal virgins hand peeled grapes for them and gently popped them into their mouths, accompanied by harpists playing soothing lullabies and fairies sprinkling magic dust and smiling gently. Although, come to think of it, I might have actually been asleep by then and dreaming all of this.
My first thought on being woken up for breakfast was that I wanted to snuggle back to my cosy dreams, until the realisation that we would soon be landing in Dubai shook me fully awake. Dubai and my most exciting assignment!
‘Thank you! Goodbye!’ the cabin crew smiled as we edged our way off the plane. I pulled my lovely cabin bag on its wheels like a puppy on a lead, reminding myself of my first assignment in the New Forest. In some ways that felt like so long ago and in others as if it had only been last week.
Dubai International was full of activity. Henry had told me it was competing with Heathrow to be the world’s busiest airport and I could believe him. As the travellator smoothly slid us towards passport control, I could see over the glass walls and down to the various departure lounges and Duty Free on the floor below us. It was bustling with shoppers, even at this time of the morning, all milling about. Everywhere was so bright and shiny and colourful, and so very clean.
At the end of the human conveyor belt were a small group of smiling people in pink and grey uniforms holding up big pieces of card with names on them. Henry had told me to make myself known to them.
‘Marhaba.’ A young woman I guessed to be from the Philippines welcomed me as I slowed down, wondering which one to approach.
‘Yes,’ I smiled back. ‘I’m Beth …’
‘Ms Dixon Beth? Come with me.’ She reached for the handle of my cabin bag and I didn’t know what to do – she was very petite and although the bag wasn’t heavy and was on wheels, it felt very lazy to let her pull it for me.
‘Oh, that’s all right, I can …’ I started to say, but she had already taken control of it and was ushering me ahead.
‘Welcome to Dubai,’ she said, leading me towards an escalator. ‘First time you come here?’
‘Yes, it’s my first time.’
‘Marhaba means welcome. You here for business or holiday?’
‘Business,’ I said after a brief pause. It felt slightly strange saying it, as if I were pretending to be somebody else.
‘Where do you stay?’
‘Oh … just in a hotel,’ I gabbled, probably taking the whole mystery guest thing a bit too far. ‘A driver’s meeting me and taking me there.’
I hadn’t realised quite how long the queues at passport control would be, and I was relieved when she led me to a much shorter queue, obviously of people who had used the same service. I’d have to remember to thank Henry when I checked in with him later.