Intercontinental larceny leaves Jean Godfrey-June looking like hell
A ticket on the Concorde costs $10,000 round trip, or something thereabouts. So you spend a good deal of your time gawking at your fellow passengers, wondering where they got the $10,000—or $20,000, if it’s a couple, or $40,000, for the young, modest-looking family I noted on board—to spend on getting to London a little faster. (I was on someone else’s dime.)
In many ways, it’s a great deal like being on a regular airplane except you get tins of caviar in place of squashed-cheese sandwiches. And there’s a giant L.E.D. sign that registers the ever-changing speed and altitude. The best is the altitude (who really knows what Mach 2 means?): 58,000 feet, most of the time.
I was so impressed that I managed to leave my makeup bag on my seat. I was calm when I discovered it missing: It’s the Concorde. Is a person who happily drops $10,000 going to steal a makeup bag?