I’m sitting on a fifteen hour Qantas flight from LAX to Sydney. Not the least spacious seat I’ve had to occupy for that sort of stretch, yet I’m barely able to open my laptop with the seat in front reclined. I’ve started four or five movies before turning them all off at some point. I’m not sure if I’m just too uncomfortable to enjoy a film or if my standards have become a burden – I’m betting only a handful of these new releases have broken above 70% on Rotten Tomatoes. We inquired about an upgrade to the comfort of first class, yet for $15,000 (not a joke)… I’ll enjoy my seat just fine, thank you very much.

In our economy seats, we’re afforded a selection of five wines: a bubble, two reds and two whites. All served with a nice, tapering glass made by a guy named Marc Newson. Jacob’s Creek bubble and Xanadu’s Next of Kin Chard from Margaret River are a couple examples. The libations are much better than the plonk our Canadian airlines peddle at 30,000 feet. I’m trying to remember what qualities in wine are said to be accentuated at higher altitudes – and I think it’s the acidity. At this point, it’s something to drink alongside our meal and there will hardly be any analysing going on. I have a longing to be drinking whatever Champagne is being served in first class where the seats cost as much as a new compact car. I can barely see through the gap in the curtain barrier, but I can only imagine that everyone has the choice of either Selosse, Salon, or vintage Krug to sip on in their personal travel pods. Despite the gross vinous inequalities of our cabins (conceived or otherwise,) I can say that what I have now is hitting the spot.