I walked into the Lufthansa First Class Terminal expecting to find a tent pitched in the corner near the bar, with ‘eightblack’ emblazoned across it, and the Riesling on tap, or perhaps even supplied intravenously. My first reaction, though, was that this place was small. I think I’d got my expectations a little too high, but found the ambience to be quite similar to Qatar’s First Class Lounge at DOH.

The great thing about the FCT of course, is that it’s such a well hidden secret that most people don’t know it exists, let alone mistakenly finding their way to the front desk asking if they could please use the lounge and guest all their 4th cousins in. So when I did walk in, no one blinked an eye, and I was escorted through security and told how things worked here.

My first stop, having arrived at 6 am for a flight at noon, was to take a shower. I knew this day was going to be difficult, but I was groggy at that hour, having slept in fits the previous night. Having to choose between a shower and a bath wasn’t what I wanted right now. The attendant took pity on me and gave me the big room, which had both a bath and a shower. What I’d really wanted to ask for was the one with the famous FCT duck, and to my horror neither the shower nor the bath had it!

I started sending frantic text messages to everyone I knew who had ever used the FCT. I hadn’t bought any souvenirs, and this was to be it. The lounge attendant told me they’d run out of them and would only have a replacement by Xmas. Thankfully, I got a tip that the FCL in the main terminal still had some, and that I should go there and ask for one. So I promptly caught hold of someone in a purple tie (what happened to yellow, blue and grey being LH's colors?) and asked for the limo to take me over earlier, and when I did eventually get to the FCL, I charmed (scoff) the attendant into giving me two ducks instead of one.

Back in the FCT, I couldn’t find much to do. Yes the food is great and the bar list is excellent, but you know how much I eat and drink. Breakfast, a couple of glasses of champagne, and I was done. Given that the occupants of the lounge were exclusively 40+ year old German males for the first couple of hours, and that the view outside was of an airport building, I started to get bored. The only thing that changed later in the day was there were more women and more nationalities, but still just boring old people.

The FCT is nice, it’s cozy, and it’s a hell of a lot better than FRA. But, unless you want to drink the bar dry, a couple of hours there is enough to experience everything. When it was eventually time to leave, I was escorted to a waiting car that would zip me across to my gate. For once, I didn’t have to choose what kind of champagne or sparkling water or magazine or fruit. The choice was made for me – an S350, instead of a Panamera or a Cayenne. Though this was the one time I’d liked to have made the choice!

But before I tell you about my flight, which I’d been looking forward to because the seat map had shown the load in First as 2 of 8 for the last couple of weeks, I should probably tell you where I was going. And where I was flying to. I was going to Dubai, but I was flying to Bangalore.

Remember the check in agent at Brussels who thought I was crazy when I asked to check my bags through BRU-FRA-BLR-DXB? And my parents who want to admit me to a mental institution (though there’s more to that)? This was the reason. But how could I pass up 8h30 in First for 6h30 and lose out on 2 hours? So I found a long flight on a 747 with low premium loads, and voila, Bangalore.