On a Wing and a Whim

Aboard the Rs 250 crore corporate jet that Mukesh Ambani and Vijay Mallya own

Moments after the Eurofighter began climbing the steep arc that was now dissipating before our eyes, the roar from the engines stirred us out of our champagne-induced reverie. From where we were seated, the runway was only a hundred metres away, but after half an hour or so of watching planes takeoff, our attention had wandered back to the champagne and cheese on offer at the Airbus pavilion. Perhaps only an aviation buff could have sustained the initial excitement at the setting, as planes took off and manoeuvred overhead. After a while, the sight of midsize commercial jets, long-haul freight carriers and old propeller crafts resuscitated for acrobatics across the sky had paled into a certain monotony.

Yet we were distracted by the Eurofighter as it looped back out of the sky, and we were now looking up.

We were a small group of journalists from India.

The science story we had been flown over to cover by Airbus did not seem to be working out as we would have liked, but even so, there was the not too unpleasant prospect of a few days in Paris in June. Even the couple of days we had to spend at the airshow did not seem like much of an imposition.

We had stopped at the pavilion midway along the tour through the Airbus display. The company was upbeat on home turf: purchase orders for new commercial craft at the show had them beating Boeing by 8:1. We had already seen the massive A380 takeoff, as well as wandered by the enormous A400 M, a military transport aircraft that seemed suited to carrying a herd of elephants, and now we were waiting for some serious clients to disembark from the Airbus Corporate Jet 319.  

Over 100 ft in length, it can fly 19 people in absolute luxury (the passenger version of the craft seats 124) and can travel 12,000 km without refuelling. In the Airbus stable it was as much a showpiece as the Eurofighter was at the airshow. It took another few glasses of premium champagne before it was our turn to enter the craft. As we walked in, I was already aware that both Mukesh Ambani (a present for his wife was the whisper at the show) and Vijay Mallya owned one. Few others can afford it; the plane costs well over Rs 250 crore. Mallya has spent another Rs 7 crore on the interiors. And then there are running expenses. It costs Rs 70 lakh for either of them to fly, say, to the US (the craft covers about 200 metres on a litre of aviation fuel worth Rs 830).

As we looked around, it didn’t seem like Mallya really needed to have spent an extra Rs 7 crore, but then it is unlikely we would have any idea of the amenities required by someone who needed a jet of his own to fly halfway across the world. A client was using the conference room along the corridor that led to the main bedroom and attached bathroom. We waited in the cabin. Tan leather armchairs and sofas dotted the space, a bar stood on one side. We sipped on some more champagne, found that the armchairs were electronically adjustable, leaned back some more, and tried out some caviar. High definition TV, internet access, the list went on—but really in this setting none of this seemed out of the ordinary. To the extent that it matters, I was told, the room was done up “in ‘French Empire’ style, with a one-of-a-kind handcrafted carpet decorated with ornaments in relief”.

As we looked around, our hosts were telling us that even this craft is not the final word on corporate jets. The first ACJ 380, when it becomes a reality sometime soon, will cost ten times as much, over Rs 2,000 crore. It comes equipped with elevators to wander the three floors, a concert hall, a Turkish bath, a holographic projection room and parking space for a Rolls.

Meanwhile, the conference was taking a long time, and since we didn’t have any other business to attend to, we agreed to some cognac and coffee to wash down the champagne. The client walked out—it was Tony Fernandes, owner of Air Asia, the largest low-budget airline on the continent. We never did find out if he ordered a corporate jet, but on that day he did place an order for 200 units of the A320 Neo (new engine option), valued at $18 billion. For a moment, I did consider converting that into rupees, only to realise that it didn’t really matter. We walked past the plushly carpeted conference room, where there were large leather armchairs arrayed around a round wooden table. Perhaps Tony had thought the deal over one last time in that room.

The corridor opened out to a bedroom, with a door leading to the bathroom on the left just past the entrance.  I was hoping for a bathtub, but perhaps that will have to await my tour of the ACJ 380. In the 319, I had to make do with the sight of a full-height shower, a washbasin and a rather fancy commode. No doubt, some great business ideas have hatched in such settings, and in retrospect, given Kingfisher’s current state, some not so great ones as well.

As I write this, I can’t recall the bedroom in detail, perhaps the champagne and cognac had caught up with me. I do recall sinking into the bed. Even without the hum of the jet engines, it was the closest I could have come to the Rs 250 crore experience that I now share in part with Mukesh Ambani and Vijay Mallya, though I am not sure if Mallya any longer savours it with as much ease as I did.

About The Author

Hartosh Singh Bal

Hartosh Singh Bal turned from the difficulty of doing mathematics to the ease of writing on politics. Unlike mathematics all this requires is being less wrong than most others who dwell on the subject.