Nine seats fit into the nose, with six next to the windows, two in a pair at the rear of the cabin and a single “Captain Kirk” seat in the middle, 2E. Thanks to some heavy gardening of my reservation I managed to move up from row 2 to 1K, both for the pleasure of sitting in the far nose and because there’s less disturbance coming past you: nobody, not even the pilots, unless there’s someone hiding in the linen closet. The seat is fine: it’s an older style first-class seat with some privacy elements, but crucially isn’t a suite. There are some seats where that’s okay, and the privacy designed into the seat doesn’t make you feel like you’re on show. This seat, though, isn’t one of those, at least in row 1. Given that the nose narrows, the seats are almost pointing together, so there’s an awkward “hello, how are you” nod that could have been fixed by the application of some shrouding. In seat mode, it was very comfortable and highly adjustable, as you’d expect from first class, and in bed more it was pleasantly spacious even for my 1m 90cm form. I got a good few hours’ sleep on this overnight redeye. Amenities came in a Porsche Design hard-case and were from Payot. I didn’t care for the scent, but I can’t fault the range of products on offer, from a facial mist to an eau de toilette.

Thai is one of those airlines renowned for its service and hospitality, and that was in evidence on this flight, even though it was a redeye where the crew were in “serve swiftly, put the cabin to bed for those who want to sleep” mode. They were uniformly delightful, and proactive in the cabin without being obtrusive. Sterling stuff.

Interestingly, this 747 had what I’ve always thought of as the “KLM galley” configuration: the space between doors 1 and 2 on the starboard side of the aircraft is entirely given over to a galley parallel to the aircraft, rather than the more usual galleys between doors or at the front and back of the aircraft. Crews love it for the amount of workspace, and anecdotally passengers benefit from a speedier meal service. I’d preselected fabulous minced pork with Thai basil, which was really delicious, very Thai in flavor profiles, and spicy enough to get my sinuses working (a plus in these older, dry-air aircraft). The preselection process could use work, though: it’s basically calling up the airline and having them send you a PDF file with the names of dishes, and you taking pot luck with the names. And, look, you fill me full of Dom Pérignon for a couple of hours, and wake me up with delicious fresh orange juice and several pots of tea, and it’s full food & beverage marks from me.

Let’s be clear: nobody books a flight on an old 747 for the IFE selection. I certainly didn’t, and I couldn’t find a single thing I wanted to watch on the elderly, clunky system and its low-res screen. Despite an iPad full of content, the best IFE was gazing out the window at a thunderstorm en route. That’s something you can’t watch anywhere else.  

The seat was OK, the food and wine excellent, the IFE very meh, and the crew brilliant. But the X-factor was the Queen of the Skies, and particularly the nose cabin. There’s nothing else quite like it: fly it while you still can.