It happened six years ago on a flight back from the United States. ‘Sir, I’m pleased to say you’ve been upgraded to first class.’ ‘Wonderful! Where would you like me to sit?’ ‘Anywhere you like, you’re the only passenger.’
The anti-car movement is idiotic – a luxury belief shared by deluded metropolitans
For the next few hours I dined on fine food brought to me at any time I chose and drank the finest wines known to humanity. I had a staff of three to myself. At one point they brought me a silver tray with magazines on it, one of which was The Spectator. ‘Would you like anything to read, sir?’ ‘Yes, I’d like to read something written by, let me see… oh, I know – me!’ I didn’t actually say that, you understand, but I thought it all the same.
It was magnificent. I even got a free pair of pyjamas.
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