About 14 years ago I booked my first trip to Australia on BA, I was so excited to be going Down Under for the first time but being the 6 foot (not so young) babe that I am I wanted to know if I could book a seat with extra leg room.  No I was told in no uncertain terms by the travel agent this was not going to be possible on an economy long haul flight unless I had an injury and a back up doctor’s note or I was over 6ft 6 inches or similar.  Mmmmm, this was not a journey I was relishing so I decided to break it half way through and stop over with friends in Singapore.

On arrival at the Heathrow Check In Desk the attendant said “Madam this flight is over booked.  I’m afraid therefore that we are moving you into Business Class”, I replied “well thank you, what a nice surprise”.   It was all I could do not to scream my delight out loud.   I was seated upstairs for my 14 hour flight on a Jumbo – it was absolutely heavenly and I felt like a Diva, the leg room, the spacious seat and the cabin crew were all fabulous.   I took full advantage of this bonus and quaffed champagne on and off and generally gorged myself on the Business Class delights.  Someone once said that one must “take the opportunity of a lifetime during the lifetime of the opportunity” and I have always remembered that and so that is what I did.   I was also given two bottles of champagne by the steward as I left that aircraft who told me that hardly any of the passengers had consumed the champagne and so why didn’t I take it to my friends in Singapore.  I had confided in him earlier that I was not actually a Business Class traveller but that I had been upgraded and was just ecstatic about it and I think he was amused.    All this and my holiday had not even started.   I now know where the expression Cloud 9 might have come from.

I was also upgraded on the next leg from Singapore to Sydney for which again I was over the blinking moon.

My rock idols The Rolling Stones were playing at Earls Court many many moons ago.  That balmy summer evening some time in the 70′s I was with my boyfriend and bemoaning the fact that we had not bought tickets to see the Stones and why didn’t we do the next best thing and drive along to Earls Court to see if we could see them arriving and give them a wave.  Said boyfriend was also a mad fan but was not so keen on this crazy idea (as he put it).   I managed to persuade him otherwise and so we pootled off in his little red sports car and parked round the corner from Earls Court.   My boyfriend waited on the other side of the road whilst I went up to the Security Man on the gate, there were a few people milling about before the concert started.   I chatted away to this chap for a considerable while making it more than clear that I was Mick Jagger’s No 1 fan.  I think he found me oddly amusing.   Whilst standing there my boyfriend refused to join me, I think he found it all hugely embarrassing.  What happened next was beyond even my wildest dreams.   The security guard asked me who I was waving to on the other side of the road “is that your boyfriend” he asked in a gruff tone.  For some reason I lied and said “oh no, that is my brother”. Still to this day I don’t know why I did that but I think it was some unconscious knowing.    The guard then said “OK well get your brother over here now because I am going to get you two in to the show”.  My mouth dropped open.   Knock me over with a feather!  That is exactly what he did, he got us in to see that concert.  I shall never forget it.  My boyfriend was incredulous and this story went on and on for years, he had never seen the Stones live before.  That show was fantastic and I felt like the luckiest person on the planet that night. (Photograph from www.rollingstones.com)

I’ve got some more lucky stories – more later.

So I am wondering are we born lucky or do we make our own luck?

What’s your view?