My thighs still burned from the previous three days of skiing at Kaya Palazzo Kartalkaya, so walking through the Istanbul airport looking for the Turkish Airlines business lounge with a waddle was done with pride. Craving my last bites of Turkish cuisine and indulging in the surplus of incredible deserts I lazily slumped into a lounge chair. I could certainly fall asleep right now, I thought to myself. Forcing my eyes open, I caught the departure screen. My flight was boarding.
Pulling myself together, I bid farewell to my ski buddies and headed to the gate. For those of you who haven't been to the Istanbul airport, it's massive. Twenty minutes passed from the lounge to the gate, arriving just in time.
Flying for me has never been about luxury, or convenience, for I am interested in spending more time exploring the destination, but this trip was different. My Turkish Airlines ticket had the black line across the top, subtly flexing to those around me I was business class.
Boarding the Boeing 787 Dreamliner, I flashed my black-lined ticket to the greeter and was ushered left. As though I correctly knocked on a speakeasy door, the curtain opened and I was shown to my seat.
I didn't have to compete for overhead space for my bag and after I settled into my seat I looked up, greeted by a smiling flight attendant asking, "Would you like orange juice, cranberry juice, lemonade, or something else? All the juices are freshly squeezed."
"Orange juice, please."
As I sipped my orange juice and extended my legs fully out, the sound of others still boarding the plane was behind me. Taking a deep breath in, my eyes-closed exhale was slightly audible as that feeling of calm overwhelmed my entire body. Opening my eyes, a plump chef with a large, floppy-white hat rounded the corner and greeted me with a foreign accent, "Hello again, did you take a look at the menu? What do you like for your main tonight?"
Pinching myself, as this felt far too dreamlike, I looked around for the menu then up at the chef asking, "What would you recommend?"
"The swordfish. It's my favorite. We make a great fillet that is big and juicy."
"Let's do that." I nodded.
"Thank you, Mr. Johnson, we will have that for this evening." The chef said as he jotted down my order and moved along to the next passenger, greeting them with the same smile and "Hello again..."
Setting off on our direct flight from Istanbul to San Francisco, I questioned why I would fly so long any other way. The service was that of a hotel and a restaurant. The complimentary wifi was easy to use and the table was sturdy as I typed away at emails and other articles. If my glass of water was running low, they offered more. Often offering other beverages as well like wine, coffee, tea, spirits, juice, the list went on. Snacks were provided as well, but they came on a platter, not just tossed at me by a flight attendant like I'm a catcher at a major league baseball game.
As a few hours past the flight attendants came to lay a tablecloth across my work area. Shutting down my laptop, I had no idea a three-course meal was about to be sprawled out in front of me.
Course one: Soup, salmon tartar, salad, and octopus
Course two: Swordfish with vegetables and Turkish bread
Course three: Bread pudding and an eclair
Throughout the meal, a teacup "candle" flickered throughout in the dimly lit cabin. An ambiance akin to fine dining, only we were soaring 38,000 feet in the sky. This flight, this black-lined ticket experience, was far more than an economical way to get from point A to point B as quickly as possible. No, this was truly an experience and it didn't end there.
"Would you like me to make up your bed?" A flight attendant asked.
Surprised by the request, as I figured the chair would lay flat easily, I sheepishly responded with a high-pitched, "Yes."
A slight chuckle came from the attendant and he motioned for me to stand. Pulling down sheets and a thin mat, he turned my work and dining area into a sleeping quarter. Fluffing my pillow he smiled at me, shook his head, and said, "Your bed is ready."
So, I kicked off my shoes and crawled under the blanket, slid the complimentary eye mask on, and fell into a deep slumber.
Hours passed. The lights turned on. I lifted my mask and fluttered my eyes just enough to see breakfast was being served, but I wasn't hungry. So, I flopped back down, rolled toward the wall, and kept sleeping for a few more hours.
Turkish Airlines
Bah-ding "This is your captain speaking, we will be landing in San Francisco in approximately 35 minutes. The local weather is raining and roughly 50 degrees..."
Sitting up and turning sideways, I stretched for ten minutes. To my surprise, the sore ski legs I waddled around the Istanbul airport with were gone. My demeanor was still calm. Maybe I should fly like this more often, I said to myself as prepared for landing.
