In my life I have flown over two million “in seat” miles on aircraft, and in all that time I’ve only managed to fly international first class four times, the fourth time being yesterday.

Note: The following story contains descriptions of bodily functions.

The first time I flew international first class was on a British Airways 747 from Dubai to London. My client paid for business class but one leg of the trip ended up being in first class, and I was totally stoked to try it out.

I want to stress that my first class experiences have all been in “mere mortal” first class and not the top end, multi-room suites offered by some airlines.

My flight from Dubai left at 2am in the morning, and on my last evening out my new work friend took me to a restaurant well off the tourist path and only visited by locals. He said it had the best shawarma in the city as well as featuring Persian dishes such as beef and okra stew. He was right - it was amazing.

Unfortunately, it didn’t agree with me.

By the time I boarded the plane, I was not feeling well. Luckily I didn’t have any nausea, but my stomach was messed up enough that I did take some “Vitamin I”. When I got to the end of the jetbridge the flight attendant looked a bit flustered. When I asked if there was a problem, she said “I don’t have anyone to show you to your seat”. I leaned into the doorway, pointed to the left and went “2A - right there” and she let me find it on my own.

First class is different.

When I sat down I immediately noticed that unlike business class, where there is usually a single bundle containing a pillow, a blanket, and other things, this seat had a number of them, and I had no idea what they did. After takeoff all I wanted to do was sleep, so I grabbed the nearest bundle, opened it up, pulled out a blanket and laid down.

A few moments later a flight attendant was next to me, and she asked, in a very cultured British accent “excuse me, sir. Would you like me to make up your bed?”. I said no, I think I’m okay, and she gently corrected me with “sir, you are covered with the bottom sheet”.

So I stood up while she very efficiently unpacked all the different parts of the bundles that made up my bed, including a fitted sheet (that I had been using as a blanket), pillows, and a couple of blankets.

I slept until just before landing.

So, except for getting a decent amount of sleep I didn’t get the full “first class” experience.

The second and third times I flew first class was on holiday with Andrea. Before COVID we used to take one “fancy” vacation a year, where I would burn up all the miles and points I earned in the previous year on an international trip. When I was booking on American Airlines using my miles I noticed that if we flew from Miami to London we could be in first class for the same number of points.

That was kind of fun, with the only downside is that she was quite a distance away from me as the “pods” are large and somewhat spaced out. I am happy to say that I didn’t have any health problems on that trip.

Which brings me to yesterday.

I mainly fly on American Airlines (AA). Many years ago my nearest airport, Raleigh-Durham (RDU) was an American Airlines hub and I just started to accrue status with them and I haven’t really changed.

Status helps make travel bearable, as I get some extra consideration and sometimes a free upgrade. My employer will not pay for business class, even on extremely long flights, but I can sometimes use rewards I get on AA (called “systemwide” upgrades) to upgrade to business, and I used one on my trip home from the FOSDEM conference in Brussels.

I had to take two flights. A short British Airways (BA) flight from BRU to London Heathrow (LHR) and then LHR to Charlotte (CLT).

My first flight didn’t leave until 11:50 Central European Time, so I didn’t have to get up extra early. I had time to grab a light breakfast in the restaurant (gratis, due to my status with Marriott) which was some juice and a danish.

Describing what I ate will actually be relevant as my story unfolds.

While rare, my AA systemwide upgrade got me an upgrade on the BA flight (this usually doesn’t happen). Now intra-European flights on a number of carriers in business class simply means that they block the middle seat on single aisle jets configured with three seats on each side of the aisle. It’s kind of interesting, since “business class” can now be as big or as small as they need. I’ve been on at least one flight where business class took up half the plane. But the seats are not larger than those in coach.

As an American, we have a reputation of being, well, less than understanding when traveling abroad. I found it funny that the guy in the aisle seat across from me wouldn’t stop complaining about how small the seats were, and it was obvious he was not American. Granted, he was two meters tall and had an issue with fitting the the seat, but it was something I would have expected more from a fellow citizen.

Anyway, another difference you get in business is different food. I was offered a “roast beef salad”, which was a few slices of roast beef over some sort of dip, served with a roll and a dessert. Since I hadn’t had much to eat I ate all of it, and while it wasn’t haute cuisine I didn’t detect anything wrong with it (you probably can guess where this is going).

Once I got to LHR and switched terminals, I had just enough time to stop by the Admiral’s Club lounge. I wasn’t hungry but I did get some pretzels and a packet of crisps, as well my go-to Coke Zero. I’m constantly amazed by the variety of potato chip flavors in the UK. This one was “Wagyu Beef and Honey Mustard”, not that I think anyone could tell it was “Wagyu” beef versus regular beef.

When it was time to board I went to my gate (always the farthest one from wherever I am) and while I was waiting I got a notice that my seat had been changed to “1A”.

First class.

I wasn’t expecting this, as I had used my systemwide upgrade to get from economy to business in the first place. Heck, I didn’t even know this plane had a first class.

Once again I was excited to fly international first class. Once again I would be disappointed.

The first class “pod” was slightly larger than the business class one. My window seat usually covered two windows while this one covered three. The seat itself looked more like a recliner. It swiveled: facing forward for take off and landing, turned slightly to the left for sleeping and travel, and able to turn ninety degrees to face the windows, where a little desk opened up in case you wanted to do some work.

Cool.

Also, the food offering was different than business. There were more courses, and one even included soup. Seriously, soup on a plane. I mean, they serve coffee so why not soup, but still.

Before takeoff I drank a mimosa (champagne and orange juice) and made my selections from the menu. I also tried to figure out which movies I was going to watch on the trip.

It was then I realized I didn’t feel so good.

My stomach started to bother me, to the point that even thinking about eating made me nauseated. Once we were airborne I told the very nice flight attendant that I was going to skip eating and I just wanted to sleep. She was understanding, and asked if I wanted her to make up my bed.

Based upon my performance on that first trip from Dubai, I said yes, I would very much like her to make my bed.

Also unlike business, in first you get a foam seat cover that adds some extra comfort as well as a couple of blankets: one that is very warm and one that is less so. Once it was made I put in my ear plugs and put on my eye mask and tried to sleep.

I was happy that I managed to sleep through the dinner service, as the flight was very bumpy. I actually like a little bit of turbulence as it helps me sleep, but it can be a pain when you are trying to eat (much less serve) a meal.

I think I had slept about two hours, and when I woke up I realized something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Another benefit of first class is that there is rarely a line for the lavatory. This worked in my favor.

I am happy to say I made it there before the contents of my stomach decided to leave my body. Having shared pretty much everything I had eaten that day, I was extremely surprised to see how much stuff came out of me.

They have a word for it: prodigious.

Seriously, compared to what I was doing, Mr. Creosote was a rank amateur. I had to flush the toilet three times. As my friend Kaj likes to say, I “spoke Danish into the big white telephone” for over two minutes. And that was just the first wave (and the toilet was more of a gray color).

At this point I was able to actually lock the door to the lavatory before the second wave hit.

Somewhat timely, I came across this image recently.

I bring it up because last year, on a flight from Bangkok back home, I was on the plane with an elderly Buddhist monk and his traveling companion. I did not get upgraded on the first seven hour flight but I did manage an upgrade to economy extra on the leg from Japan to Dallas. The monk was in front of me in business class, which is also where the nearest lavatory was located. Once when I went to use it I found it out of order. According to the flight crew the older monk had eaten something that disagreed with him, and they were going to have to clean it before anyone else could use it.

I am happy to say that I was able to do “the needful” without making a mess. You are welcome fellow passengers.

I was then able to sleep, fitfully, for about four more hours, but I was so uncomfortable that I decided to just sit up for the final two hours of the flight. The flight attendants were very understanding. One offered to get me a ginger ale, but I wanted to avoid anything carbonated. I suggested apple juice, and he was wise enough to offer to mix it with water as well. It was a good decision.

Having experienced gastro-intestinal distress in my years of traveling, my primary care physician gave me a prescription for a high dose of Cipro. I decided to take one.

Unfortunately, there was going to be yet another round in the lav. I sat there, miserable, and trying to avoid it, as I didn’t want to lose the antibiotic before it could dissolve. I’m not sure if I waited long enough but once again I found myself back in the bathroom.

This seemed worse than the first time. Not in amount - I was surprised there was anything left - but it was, how can I put it, more concentrated? This kind of meant it was more painful, but once it was over I felt better.

The rest of the flight was uneventful. We landed in Charlotte, I got through customs, and went to wait for my bag. I was weak, dizzy and dehydrated so it seemed to take longer than usual, but I managed to get my bag, to make it to my car, and to start the journey home.

Usually it takes me about 80 minutes to get home, but over the weekend we had a big snowstorm. Since the majority of my normal route is through back country roads, I decided to stay on the highway which adds about thirty minutes. I got home and immediately went to bed.

I feel much better this morning, but nowhere close to 100%. I did send a message to BA, and thought it funny that when you file a report with that airline about the food, there is an option for food poisoning.

I really don’t want any kind of compensation or consideration, these things happen, but I doubt I’m eating on a BA flight in the near future.

Anyway, it looks like the curse of the upgrade continues, but usually when I get upgraded domestically that means my plane would be delayed or the flight cancelled. I’m not sure the curse that comes with an international upgrade is worth it.

And of course my experience doesn’t come close to the Steakhouse Incident. For those of you who missed this classic from the early days of the Internet, and if you have a strong stomach, it is worth a read. The Ryan’s Steakhouse in the story was very close to my house when I lived in Raleigh all those years ago.