A very special flight

I can’t let our homecoming pass without saying a few words about our flight back: DH was ‘driving’, and while I’ve been his passenger a few times now, it was the first time he’s flown our fledglings in a commercial airliner.

And, yes, it was a great flight, not least because the bribe potential in telling the children that if they didn’t behave, Daddy would ‘land this plane right now’ or put them ‘outside on the wing’ was HUGE. (Sipping celebratory Champagne and nibbling on Godiva chocolates helped too, of course.)

But, if the truth be told, the boys were as good as gold. At the gate, they squished their noses against the terminal window, trying to see through the darkened glass of the cockpit. They (and about 10 other little boys also lined up) were rewarded when DH stuck a sun-tanned arm out his window to wave.

You could tell each awe-struck boy thought the wave was directed at him and when I got talking to an Australia-bound Dad on the full flight later on, we agreed not to burst his son’s bubble. Pilots should wave more, they really should. It makes people so happy.

DH in his office

Airbus A380: DH in his office

On board, we waited patiently for DH to make an announcement (it sounded nothing like him!), and, while I’d instructed Son1 not to go telling everyone, his excitement bubbled over every now and then. “My Daddy’s flying this plane,” he told a flight attendant, *beaming with pride*.

We arrived in Dubai (nice landing, DH!) and were invited to come forward to see what to me looks like the Starship Enterprise. “Just don’t touch anything,” I urged them, as we climbed the stairs to the flight deck. “If you feel like you want to press something, JUST DON’T,” I pleaded, paranoid that they’d set off the emergency slides or a million-dollar fire-hydrant system.

I needn’t have worried; they were awed into silence by the countless screens and switches, and could barely breathe they were so impressed. (Too bad my work doesn’t have the same effect; I swear they think my sole purpose in life is to fetch them things from the supermarket.)

All too soon, it was time to deplane and make our way into Dubai’s cavernous, gleaming airport, where taking the new train triggered fresh excitement. It was well past midnight when the children and I joined the taxi queue. “We don’t want a pink taxi. We want a red one,” they chanted, in unison, demonstrating to me once again that, while my boys will never be interested in any of the girlie things that make me tick, I adore their transport-mad ways.

Emirates Aviation Experience: Say hello

“C’mon, let’s go in,” I said to DH, who didn’t need that much encouraging, to be honest.

We were about to ride the Emirates Air Line cable car, which crosses London’s River Thames at a vertigo-inducing altitude, when we noticed a small building housing the newly opened aviation experience.

I must have been feeling a bit homesick, because suddenly the idea of paying money (£3 each) to get a little Dubai fix seemed a good idea. It might even be air-conditioned, I reasoned (this was a few weeks ago, during the hot spell).

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Inside the £4m attraction, we walked round a real-size replica of the A380’s nose and a 165,000-brick Lego engine. I tried an aviation-themed interactive game and decided we didn’t need to sit in the mock economy cabin and put the headsets on to watch the TV screens, as I’ve only spent, like, a MILLION hours sitting in those seats for real. (Now, if it was business class and they were serving champagne ….)

And, I can honestly say I really enjoyed the panoramic video following a suitcase’s journey, from check-in to the plane’s hold via a system of rollercoaster-like conveyor belts.

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Luggage moves through an amazingly intricate behind-the-scenes structure, with slopes, bends and junctions. (Riding on your case would be so much fun)

But it was upstairs that DH and I had the best time. In one of the A380 simulators, where you can try your hand at flying a superjumbo (sort of).

Though nothing like what pilots actually train in (just the stick, rudder and thrust work), it allows you to take-off, manoeuvre the aircraft and land – or crash, in my case. The high-definition screen and advanced graphics simulate a flight between London Heathrow and Dubai, with weather conditions of your choosing. You could opt for drizzly rain coming into LHR, buttery sunshine in Dubai, or a starry night sky if you want to command a night flight.

My DH isn’t one to boast about what he does so as I took the controls he kept his job quiet, until the staff pretty quickly figured it out and left us to it. But let’s just say that, even with him coaching me, I’m not the most coordinated of pilots.

“Just small corrections,” DH instructed as I attempted to keep the plane on the glide path, while watching the landing lights. Half red and half white is the ideal. Nose up. Left a bit. The runway starts rushing up towards me. Those small corrections rapidly turn into clumsy lurches and I plunge the aircraft into the ground, where it bumps along noiselessly, magically passing through highly pixelated objects.

My second attempt is much the same, and I have to concede that, in the unlikely event that the entire crew of a 380 is struck down by a dodgy prawn, I’m not your hero.

After a while, I hand over to DH to watch and marvel. And then something occurs to me: “Try flying it under Tower Bridge!” Why, the worst that could happen is they’d have to reboot the software.

The simulator costs £40 for a 30-minute session. This isn’t a sponsored post. I actually did spend my birthday riding the Emirates Air Line.

The brand-new $400m airplane

If you’re anything like me, you probably love going to car show rooms to look at the latest models, sit behind the steering wheel of cars you’ll never be able to afford and pick out which colour car you like best.

There’s something about buying a new set of wheels – even if they’ve been used already – that’s very exciting, in my opinion.

Last week, my DH took this to a whole new, stratospheric level, when he set off to Airbus’ factory in Hamburg, Germany, and returned with a brand-new, shiny $400m superjumbo.

I almost packed myself in his suitcase the day he left; I would love to nosy round the factory, and just imagine travelling back on your very own private A380 – with the whole cabin to yourself, bar a few executives and engineers also on the flight. I pictured myself relaxing in first class like a rock star, visiting the shower spa and cracking open the bottle of champagne I was sure to find.

Alas, it wasn’t to be. I enjoyed the trip vicariously via DH, who snapped some good photos, and on his return told me: “Gotta love that new airplane smell!”

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The gleaming new aircraft being prepared for take-off

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Spotted in Hamburg: This bulbous-looking plane is one of Airbus’ now-retired Super Guppies, used to transport airplane parts from 1972 to the mid-90s. They were replaced by Airbus Beluga super transporters. You didn’t know I can be a bit of a plane spotter, did you?