Alarms go off at 5:30, wrenching us both out of a deep and restful slumber. We’re all packed so just a quick shower and set off to try and find our taxi, on the mysterious B3 floor, which no lifts have mentioned yet.
I’m trying to get into the car when the driver asks, “your flight is at 10:10am from terminal 2, correct?” Not correct, I must be sleepier than I thought, and on closer inspection his sign is for someone completely different, “Mr & Mrs Latham”, sort of close-ish?
Our car is just behind, a very sleek looking electric BMW with the most polite driver. I didn’t book the taxi, but offer up a silent thank you as we settle back, sip ice cold water and doze the 30 minutes to Haneda.
When I tried to change our seats online the website wouldn’t let me, full flight, and we’re not together. I’ve got an extra legroom seat, but Trix is wedged in the middle between two randoms. She’s still mildly scarred from the teenage boy leaning on her as he slept on the way out and I’d promised that she could have an aisle seat. Remembering Zoes trip back from Hong Kong, 25 years ago, when she was wedged like that, I’m determined to shuffle the plane around, somehow.
“The flight is full, it is very difficult, I will send a message to the plane crew and maybe they can help”, hmm. No upgrades either, it really is totally full. I’m assuming “very difficult” is a polite way of saying “impossible”.
The queue for security is insane, there is a man at the back with a sign declaring “End of the line”, he’s walking backwards as more and more people join it. “Sumimasen, is there another security gate?” Worth asking. He nods vigorously, “hai hai, over there” smiling and pointing in the opposite direction.
Zero queue, grinning at each other we waltz through and head towards the lounge. It seems that premium economy on Japan Airlines has more perks than you get on BA, no complaints from us. We find a tranquil table and load up on beef curry and rice, we’re still in Japan after all!
The queue for coffee is really long, that’s the excuse I use for having a glass of champagne, “it’s only 9pm in London!”, then I notice another machine, oh well!
From getting out of the taxi to sitting in the lounge took 25 minutes, I think that’s a new personal best.
Time to board and we go and have a word with the staff, I have a trump card to play and I really hope it works.
“I have a medical condition, and I need to be next to my 14 year old daughter”, I can hear some of that being repeated amongst a load of words I don’t understand, a few times. “It is very difficult, the flight is full”, I’m not budging, “Can you move some people around? This is very important”. We wait.
The only other time I’ve used that line was at Glastonbury, we were in a one in / one out area with no toilets, the queue to get back in was huge. I felt bad for asking the security guard if I could use the staff area, but, nothing I said wasn’t true, even if I didn’t strictly need to drink all those pints of cider…
Eventually we’re called back to the desk and yes, they’ve put us together, phew. Some of the pre-flight tension eases and we find our seats and faff around making ourselves comfortable (which includes putting on the provided slippers, a nice touch).
Trix is very happy with the setup, lots of compartments, bluetooth connection for her headphones. She wraps herself up in a blanket and settles back with one of her new manga books. Only 14 hours to go…






























































































































