I chuckled at Karina's clever wordplay. "Have you seen that movie? Forget its name – the one where the woman says, I'll have what they're having."

She nodded and giggled. "When Harry Met Sally. Never seen the whole thing, only memes and YouTube clips. We can play along on that theme, but toned down to not disrupt other passengers."

"There'll be only two – one on each side of us at the window seats."

"Yeah, rows of four across, not nine or ten, and if the quality is as fine as you suggested, they'll be focused on eating. Do you remember any of the courses?"

"I do. All of them." I grinned at her. "But they're frequently changed to remain in tune with the seasons and sustainable availability."

"Oh, like you do at Chambéry."

"Indeed, but they also regularly change their chefs, usually once or twice a year, and they always select Michelin-starred ones. Among the three-star chefs on my recent trips have been Anne-Sophie Pic, Arnaud Lallement, Régis Marcon and Emmanuel Renaut."

"Ooh! I know Pic and Lallement. Now, even more anticipation."

Oh, my! Deep, thorough research. "I'm always awed by how they create dishes that sing when prepared and served remotely with minimal equipment by flight attendants."

"Wow! Hadn't even thought. The instructions must be minutely detailed."

"That's a given, but there's likely also hands-on training at Charles DeGaulle, introducing the new menu items. Alain Ducasse oversees the creation of dishes for the departures lounge, so he may have a hand in that, as well."

"Of course. They'd have mock-up aeroplane galleys for training." She chuckled. "Everything from the microzap timing for Economy to the gourmet complexities of First Class."

We carried on a rambling conversation while watching the activity through the windows. Then, Karina said, "I've heard no departure announcements. Are we too far away from the speakers here?"

"They don't call the flights in lounges." I turned and pointed along the passageway. "But like they have throughout the waiting areas below, there are flight information displays up here."

"Oh! I should go check."

"No need." I glanced at my watch. "An agent will come and escort us to the gate when the plane is ready."

"So easy and hassle-free ..." She paused and tilted her head. "Hmmm. How will they know where we are?"

"They keep track of first-class passengers."

"Oh, the agent who rode the elevator with us. And the ones who keep walking by here."

I grinned and nodded. Highly observant, likely why she writes with such detail. Hah! How do I know? From what she's said, of course. From the ease of recounting her memories of tasting experiences, of her travels – explorations, she calls them. 

Turning toward the windows, I said, "Refuelling finished a quarter-hour or more ago, and the cargo containers have all been loaded. The baggage train still has five carts to do, so unless there's a maintenance glitch, we'll depart on time. They'll likely come for us in the next five to ten minutes."

As predicted, an agent came, introduced herself, and escorted us to the gate, arriving as the pre-boarding announcement began. After our boarding passes were scanned, I took Karina's hand and guided her down the ramp. Halfway along, she looked back and said, "None ahead of us and none behind."

"The others might already be aboard."

"True. Seems so strange to me, though. Not the usual milling and jostling scene."

I grinned at her. "You'll soon find this relaxed ease normal."

As we stepped aboard from the ramp, one of the agents greeted us and said, "Welcome aboard. Suite 1E is to your left here, Ms Jaansen, then all the way forward and on your right. And yours, Mr MacDougall, 1F is the next aisle, forward and on the left."

"Thank you. I'd prefer to help Karina settle. This is her first La Première experience." Damn, why did I add that? It diminishes her image. "She knows other airline layouts, but not this one."

As I led Karina past the Business Class seats, she said, "These sections are usually full when the hordes traipse through. Always wondered how they handle the disruption."

"That's among the reasons I opt for first-class." Then, a short distance along the aisle, past a bulkhead, I stopped and pointed. "This is yours."

"Oh, my! Better than the picture. And only one row, four seats."

"At twice the price of Business Class, few book these, and they're not always full." I stooped beside the chaise longue and slid out the drawer. "Here's stowage for your carry-on."

"Wow! Far better than fumbling it up into overhead bins. What about my coat? I always stuffed it up there."

"There's a small closet here." I opened the door, assisted her out of her jacket and hung it.

After stowing her carry-on, she picked up the amenities kit from the seat, nodding. "Aha, this is where you got the leather case for my toiletries and supplies."

"I've a collection of them." I grinned and shrugged, then pointed toward the chaise longue. "Makes sense for us to both sit in these, so we're closer together." 

"Ummm, and the divider's low enough to make holding hands easy." 

"My thought, as well." Then, tilting my head forward, I added, "The washroom is through there, in the passageway connecting the aisles. I should go settle in; they'll soon arrive with refreshments."

Karina and I were well into enjoying flutes of Clicquot La Grande Dame and an assortment of amuse bouches when an obese man arrived and sat heavily in the window seat to our right. He blew a deep breath, mopped his forehead with a handkerchief and said, "Flight from Victoria delayed. Thought I'd miss this."

"They likely tracked you and would have held the flight a few minutes."

He nodded. "As I was told while being driven here. They closed the door as soon as I boarded."

I was about to reply when the chimes of seatbelt signs sounded, followed by the pilot's welcoming announcement in French. As he repeated it in English, I looked at the empty window seat to our left and smiled. Makes sense to sleep there. Be almost five metres away from him. Close all the curtains between. Five of them should muffle well.

Karina squeezed my hand and whispered, "From your head bobbing and smile, you're likely thinking the same thing I am."

I grinned. "And it's wise to eat there, as well. Make our roleplaying less apparent."

She tilted her head toward our fellow passenger and whispered, "With his bulk, he's obviously into eating for more than esthetics and quality. He'll likely be too focused on devouring the food to notice us."

"True." I chuckled. "This takes me back to how I felt planning pranks in school."

"And like I felt travelling with Kyle. So carefree and so much fun."