Gadzooks, I thought we were off on an adventure, not a gastronomical journey! The embarkation procedure was virtually non existent, we were seated within minutes of arriving at the gate and it just got better.
As we fussed around getting seated and exploring all the compartments, niches and locating charging plug ins etc., the attendants were more than helpful in attending to our naive questions. Man, you must certainly like people to be in their line of work.
After we were airborne, a rather extensive menu was passed to us explaining everything from who designed the cutlery to which side of what slope the grapes for the Chablis were grown on, maybe a bit over done but it sure is a nice way to start a vacation.
We three are seated three abreast in the middle of the plane after some gent gave up his seat so this could happen.
The dinner course was only what I could describe as elegant. You may have sensed by now that we are seated in business class. Actually, I thought that I saw my name on one wing as the owner as we boarded!
The selection of wines was rather extensive, I probably had too much but some how the atmosphere was "What the hell..."
I will post this when I can, in the Paris airport likely, and then again if I can connect, in Budapest, before we collapse in a jet-lagged, overstuffed coma.
Picking up Moe.
Good old Vancouver Airport and the Indian Carving.
We are not even airborne and here comes the champagne.
Was this a snack or what? Who knows, the food kept coming!
Dinner?
Dessert selection!
Dare you ask for a tea! It tuns into a rather lengthy selection process.
My dessert, which we so little deserve!
Fellette's desert. [Those red things are not food but here seat and bed selection controls.]
Gasp, breakfast.
Paris Airport. A humungous mass of buildings that seem to go on forever.
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