Are we there yet? I sure hope not

I’ve always been the kind of traveller who obsesses over the hotel. The sheets. The lighting. The bed. The bathroom-to-room-service ratio. For me, where you stayed wasn’t just part of the trip. It was the trip. Which is why I never really understood people who waxed poetic about flights. Planes, to me, were simply the necessary evil standing between me and wherever I was trying to go.

And then I flew Singapore Airlines Business Class to Brisbane.

Now I fear I may have become one of those people. You know the ones. The travellers who casually say things like, “The flight was honestly part of the experience,” and you internally roll your eyes because surely no pressurised cabin at 35,000 feet can rival an actual trip.

But somewhere between the lounge, the Le Labo amenity kit, and cabin crew appearing beside me every time I had a thought before I’d even verbalised it, I made a new discovery: The trip had already begun.

Which was fortunate, because Queensland set a very high bar.

Within 48 hours of landing in Brisbane, I had attempted a surf lesson in Noosa on the Sunshine Coast (a humbling experience for everyone involved), explored coastal trails and nature walks with sweeping ocean views, eaten dinner at Bistro C with the waves practically lapping at the restaurant’s doorstep, and spent the next evening having what was easily my favourite meal of the trip at Bang Bang Noosa, where every dish that arrived at the table somehow managed to outdo the last.

Then came Brisbane city.

One evening I found myself climbing the Story Bridge at sunset, watching the city slowly turn gold as the river wound its way below. Later, I found myself on the rooftop of The Star Brisbane, cocktail in hand, watching the skyline transform as day turned into night. Another day was spent on North Stradbroke Island, learning about the Quandamooka way of life and gaining a deeper understanding of the culture, traditions and connection to country that have shaped this corner of Queensland for thousands of years. Between the city’s vibrant food scene, riverfront energy, and easy access to experiences like these, Brisbane quickly proved to be far more than just a gateway to the rest of Queensland.

Queensland, in short, was exactly the kind of trip I usually obsess over. And yet, surprisingly, one of the most memorable parts of the experience started before I even landed.

Singapore Airlines operates over 90 weekly flights from eight Indian cities—Ahmedabad, Bengaluru, Chennai, Delhi, Hyderabad, Kochi, Kolkata, and Mumbai—with seamless connections via Singapore to Brisbane. This sounds practical and logistical on paper, but in reality means Queensland suddenly feels a lot more accessible than you’d think.

Especially because the journey itself doesn’t feel like something to endure.

It feels like part of the reward.

Take the food.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but Singapore Airlines’ Book the Cook service may have permanently ruined regular flying for me. The Singapore noodles disappeared far too quickly, while the garlic bread arrived so hot and fresh that I became convinced there was a bakery hidden somewhere behind the galley.

Somewhere between the meals and a Singapore Sling that made me feel like I’d been transported to Long Bar at Raffles Singapore rather than sitting at 35,000 feet, I briefly forgot I was on a plane at all.

Then came dessert. Or rather, desserts.

The problem wasn’t a lack of options. It was quite the opposite.

Faced with sticky date pudding, vanilla ice cream drizzled with syrup, platters of fresh fruit, and an impressive cheese selection, I completely short-circuited trying to make a decision.

The cabin crew took one look at my inability to commit and made the executive decision to remove choice from the equation altogether. Suddenly there was sticky date pudding, ice cream, fruit, and cheese in front of me. That’s true love.

The entertainment selection didn’t help matters. I revisited Crazy Rich Asians, my go-to comfort flight movie, before finally watching Wuthering Heights, which felt appropriately dramatic for someone stretched out in a fully flat bed.

The more time I spent onboard, the more I realised that Singapore Airlines understands something many airlines don’t: luxury isn’t just about comfort. It’s about making travel feel effortless.

And oddly, what really changed my perspective was the flight home.

Nobody talks enough about the emotional comedown of leaving a great trip. There’s always that slightly melancholy airport energy where you’re trying to emotionally process the fact that tomorrow contains emails, meetings, and real life again.

And this is where I finally understood the value of a great airline.

Because when the flight becomes part of the experience, the trip doesn’t end so abruptly.

There’s still something to look forward to. One final beautiful meal. One last movie. One last uninterrupted sleep. One last moment of being looked after before reality resumes.

Tucked into a fully flat bed at 35,000 feet, with Le Labo on my wrists and absolutely nowhere I needed to be, I realised I’d spent years thinking travel began at the destination.

Turns out, sometimes it begins the second you check in.