The airline has made history with its first non-stop flight from Australia to the UK. Here’s what it was like to be onboard

This is the story of a flight. But it starts with a few caveats. Firstly, it is not a normal flight – the passengers are not your average travellers as they include ministers, CEOs and more journalists than politicians would normally be comfortable sharing a small space with.

Secondly, it is not your average payload – the luggage includes cameras, tripods and special pyjamas – and it is a history-making flight. The first to connect Australia and the UK, non-stop. And, thirdly, your Guardian correspondent doesn’t normally fly business class – so this is a dose of unreality.

Aside from all that, it is a story about a bit of aviation history, which – depending on your viewpoint – should be wildly celebrated or met with indifference.

Whatever your views, if you’ve ever wondered what it would be like to be airborne in a plane for 17 hours and six minutes on the first flight from Australia to Europe, then let this be your hour-by-hour guide.



Preliminaries

I’m at Perth airport and speeches are being made about the imminent flight of QF9, a Boeing 787-9 Dreamliner with the code VH-ZND. Alan Joyce, CEO of Qantas, is here along with Steve Ciobo, the Australian federal minister for trade, tourism and investment, and Mark McGowan, the premier of Western Australia. There are a lot of media and aviation obsessives. And me.

Onboard: I’m in seat 10A. That’s business class but fear not – I won’t be here all the time as I’m moving back to economy for a dose of real life. But since I’m here I’ll describe the surroundings.

It’s great. Two huge windows, a seat that transforms into a lie-flat bed with a duvet (doona), a Dreamline pillow and the most attentive of cabin crew on hand for champagne, water and more champagne. A large touchscreen TV is just another delight. You would get used to this.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest A business-class seat on Qantas flight QF9. Photograph: David Munk/The Guardian

Hour one

We push back about 10 seconds early at 6.50pm Perth time. It’s dark as we’re taxiing out to the runway but from the windows you can see the ground crew stopping to watch QF9 and take pictures as it goes past.

About seven minutes later, we are airborne and a round of applause is delivered by many of the 236 passengers and crew. Hopefully not the pilots though.

But any thought of immediate partying subsides as one of the two captains onboard, Jeffrey Foote, tells us that we are experiencing turbulence. Cyclone Marcus – a rather powerful storm, is about 160km away, which means bumps on and off for the next 50 minutes and confinement to our seats.

Hour two

All is stable and a movie is selected: Blade Runner 2049. Ryan Gosling and Harrison Ford but no Rutger Hauer. Will it live up to the original with lines such as: “All those moment will be lost in time – like tears in the rain. Time to die”?

Joyce has arrived at the galley and the press surge forwards to have a chat. He holds court dressed in fancy new Qantas pyjamas and the conversation ranges from aircraft configurations to Trump’s trade war and what it will mean for the global economy. Joyce makes an interesting point that someone flying in 1947 on the Australia-UK route (seven stops taking four days) would have paid the equivalent of $150,000 (£81,700 in current exchange rates).



Facebook Twitter Pinterest Qantas CEO Alan Joyce is interviewed by journalists during the flight. Photograph: David Munk/The Guardian

Foote comes on the intercom to say that Cyclone Marcus is behind us and our flight path will take us over Sri Lanka, Dubai, Iran, Turkey, central Europe and then into London. We’ll be landing on time at 5.05am, he predicts.



Interviews are over and dinner is ordered.

Hour three

Lisa Norman, the other captain, makes an appearance. She allays fears (mine) of the plane running out of fuel. “We could get to London and still have an hour and 40 minutes left,” she says. She then rattles off some statistics about how we will travel 8,032 nautical miles (9,243 miles) at a speed of up to .85 mach (652 mph). I slip in a stupid question about fear of flying. Does she ever get scared?

“I love this. This is what I do. For me, nothing excites me more than flying an aeroplane. I absolutely love it. It’s in my blood.”

Back to Blade Runner.



Hour four

Still watching Blade Runner and Robin Wright is questioning Gosling about his childhood. He’s talking about a wooden horse and a fire.

Dinner arrives. For this vegetarian, it’s mozzarella and tomato with a salad to start, some nice bread and a Goan vegetable curry for the main course. Glasses of chardonnay, shiraz and water are foolishly left untouched for now.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest A business-class menu. Photograph: David Munk/The Guardian

Hour five

Blade Runner, still. Harrison Ford has turned up (in the film) but it feels a bit overlong. Temptation is to drink more. I somehow heroically resist.

After cheese and crackers have been provided, service is over and it’s time for bed. The crew have handed out bags with pyjamas featuring a silver flying kangaroo on the front. Pressing a button turns the seat into a bed and crushes your mobile phone if you leave it near the mechanism.

Eye covers, earplugs and then sleep.

Hour six

Sleeping – no idea what is going on.

Hour seven

As above.

Hour eight

As above.

Hour nine

As above.

Hour 10

As above.

Hour 11

I’ve overstayed in business and am late for my appointment in economy. I need to swap seats with someone so I can remind myself what I normally feel like on a plane.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest The view from economy class. Photograph: David Munk/The Guardian

I stumble along the aisles until I reach the very back of the plane. Here, a small gathering of people are chatting about why they are onboard.

I meet a young American, JT Genter, who works for a website called The Points Guy, which gives advice to travellers on how to best leverage frequent-flyer miles. JT is delighted with my offer to exchange my seat for his economy-class aisle number.

Hour 12

I’m now in seat 56D and I can see why JT was delighted to leave. I’m in a middle row next to a very large man who is next to another large man who is snoring.

There are nearly six hours left to our destination. Our speed is 559mph and we are 38,000ft over Iraq. Baghdad is to our left and I see our path takes us a few hundred miles away from Mosul – once Islamic State’s HQ.

Hour 13

It’s pretty cramped in this seat. I can’t type this story on the laptop as it’s too squashed while the person in front is reclining so I make notes on my mobile and watch the last episode of Fargo. Somehow I never saw it.

Hour 14

More television.

Hour 15

Still here but have got up to walk around and inspect the snack cupboard at the back of economy, which is great. It’s all lit up and stuffed with goodies.

Here I find Mark Andreassen, a Perth resident. Mark is in seat 51J. He’s stuck in the middle and a little squashed, he says, but he has had a few good conversations with people about the historic nature of the trip. He tells me why he’s on the plane.

“You can’t be the first one to climb Everest, you can’t be the first one to the south pole but I can be the first one who did something amazing like this.”

Hour 16

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Passenger Michael Smith. Photograph: David Munk/The Guardian

Getting near the end. Breakfast is coming soon. I have a chat with Michael Smith, who runs cinemas in Perth and is a pilot who flew his flying boat around the world in 2015. He has been wired up by scientists for the flight to track his sleep patterns, movements and food intake. They hope to find ways to overcome jetlag.

“I’ll be fascinated to know much I really did sleep,” he says.

Hour 17

Back in business class as breakfast has been served and pre-landing rituals are happening (everyone has rushed to the toilets). I pass Ciobo as he waits to get changed out of his pyjamas.

Joyce comes on the intercom to congratulate the crew and calls for a round of applause. Foote follows the applause. He says he has been receiving messages of congratulations from air-traffic-control units along the long route to London.

“Many people have been watching this flight,” he says.

Hour 18

At 5.03am London time we touch down. It’s been 17 hours and six minutes in the air (according to my iPhone) and we are 20 seconds early, according to Foote.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest A screen showing the plane’s location during the last moments of the flight. Photograph: David Munk/The Guardian

Ross, the cabin supervisor, is speaking on the intercom: “It gives me immense pleasure and pride to say this: welcome to the United Kingdom,” he says.

A quick review before we get off: it’s not rocket science to conclude you’re going to enjoy a flight in business class but it would be hard to enjoy 17 hours in economy. Like most flights with the main airlines, you get what you pay for.

Soon, it’s “cabin crew disarm doors and cross check”.

The doors swing open. It’s 7C. And it’s over.

• David Munk was a guest of Qantas for the inaugural Perth-to-London flight