TRAVEL|TAKING OFF

I Flew to LA in the Cockpit of a 747…

and I didn’t kiss the pilot!

In March 1996 — our first family overseas trip — we took the kids to Disneyland. We were all mega-excited. My husband and I had had a few holidays in Vanuatu and Fiji but had never flown anywhere with the kids. This was a big deal.

He had talked about our impending trip to one of our customers who was an air hostess on Qantas International. She thought she’d be working on our flight, but shifts changed. She hadn’t forgotten us though, and once we were in the air we were presented with first-class toiletry collections and a bottle of champagne. I felt so special!

My whole family fell asleep, but I must have been too excited because I sat wide awake. A hostess came up to me and asked me would I like to visit the cockpit. She didn’t have to ask me twice. I was out of my seat like a rabbit and followed her upfront. She let me into the cockpit and showed me where to sit — a seat behind the co-pilot.

I didn’t want to distract them, but after checking out the cockpit (and the pilots!), I started chatting to them, about everything except flying this giant. I looked out to the wide blue yonder — well, mostly black at this stage.

It was night over the Pacific Ocean, but we were flying towards the dawn. As the skies started to lighten, I was spellbound. It’s an amazing view looking through that front windscreen — you can’t compare it with looking out of a window in economy class. I’d love those “flat-earthers” to have seen this view! But I don’t think they were around in 1996.

Before we started our descent into Los Angeles LAX, the pilot asked me to return to my seat. I don’t know how long I’d been in the cockpit — a couple of hours perhaps. When I returned to my seat, my husband was awake. He quizzed me accusingly. He was that sort of man.

— Where the f*** have you been?

I smiled.

— I’ve been up in the cockpit. I didn’t want to wake you.

Although I’ve flown many times since then, I’ve never been invited into the cockpit again, and as far as I know, neither has he.

Here is the story that Karen Schwartz wrote that made me remember the time I flew to LA in the cockpit of a 747, but I didn’t kiss the pilot.

Liberty Forrest, Author, here’s your story.