My immediate thought on learning about the possibility of a "club-class lounge" being installed on Red Funnel car ferries was one of considerable happiness and total support.
It seems the company is actively considering providing the luxury of travelling in unrivalled comfort, tucked safely away from common people who can only afford steerage fares and with all the delightful touches this facility would provide.
The idea was proposed by a customer, obviously a very grand sort of person, and Red Funnel is now seeking further feedback from the public.
My colleague David Newble, reporting on this proposal, has already given us some idea of what it could be like if one were fortunate enough to afford a club-class ticket across the Solent. "… sinking into a sumptuous armchair in an opulent lounge on board a ferry, your every whim indulged with waiters and waitresses bringing you drinks and nibbles … ambient music plays and the tasteful decoration sends you into a quiet snooze as you glide across the waves."
Presumably the gliding would be available only in club class, the cheapskates being obliged through inferior vessel stabilisers beneath their scummy feet to lurch around the waves in nauseous discomfort and with only an apprentice cabin boy on hand to mop up the resultant mess.
The trained staff would all be busy in Red Funnel’s luxury lounge, not just dispensing those drinks and nibbles but providing a range of in-travel beauty treatments and adjusting the dimmer switches on the crystal chandeliers to provide the correct level of subtle lighting required for flicking through one’s copy of Tatler or checking the state of one’s hedge-fund assets.
And while drinks and nibbles may be acceptable (though Mr Newble really should understand that "nibbles" are very lower middle-class — in this luxury lounge they shall, of course, be canapes) our superior voyagers will certainly expect the services of a Michelin-starred chef to provide delicately elegant meals, each course resting on a bed of caviar and shaved truffles and topped by a gossamer veil of handspun edible gold.
Oh yes, I like this idea very much indeed and can see it immeasurably improving my ferry experience.
And why am I so enthusiastic? Well, for the very good reason that at last I shall be able to avoid the kind of passenger who forks out to go "club class".
All those people braying at top-decibel volume into their smartphones and banging on about the new Agas they’ve had installed in their second homes on the Island ("Such a mah-vellous little man I’ve found, born on the Island, salt of the earth, semi-literate of course, so sweet, I’ll give you his number, yes, we’re on the ferry, blissful now they’ve got club class, right away from the great unwashed, oh, here’s that darling girl with my olives, now that’s what I call civilised, must go, shall I see you at Binkie’s party, oh mah-vellous, byeee!")
Not just the toffs but the nouveau toffs, full of bling and guffaws, slurping champers and bellowing golf and dodgy deals into their mobiles ("Yeah, I’m getting 20 per cent interest, very tasty, what was that, this line’s no good, I’ll talk a bit louder, that’s better, oh, tax, come on mate, you reckon I’m stupid or what, nah, the accountant’s fixed it as a loss, haw-haw, the wife’s spent it all of course, she went to Ascot with the girls, you never saw the like, talk about birds in feathers, yeah, fancy a few holes on Wednesday, I’ll bring my accountant, yeah, cheers then, see you later.")
The mere thought of being separated from those people by the club-class divide will, I assure you, more than compensate for the lack of drinks and nibbles in steerage. Red Funnel, I implore you, just bring it on.