A father-and-son pilot team flew Dad and I to New York City for a Father’s Day treat
When Sven tells Erik 'aim high, son' it’s because he is sitting next to him in the cockpit - but in the Big Apple the roles get reversed and I get to show Dad the ropes...

FATHER’S Day for me tends to involve aimlessly nodding at my dad over a pint of Guinness as he reels off some “words of wisdom”.
I’m usually hastily scribbling on a tacky card bought at the petrol station on the way over. “Aim high, son. The sky’s the limit . . . ”
Words spoken by fathers to their sons all around the world.
But for First Officer Erik Johansson, when his dad tells him to “aim high”, it’s because he is sitting next to him in the cockpit of a Boeing 787 Dreamliner.
In fact, the 27-year-old and Captain Sven-Bertil Johansson, 61, are the only father/son 787 flight team in the world.
They spoke to us — the only father/son journo team on the, erm, plane — before jetting off to New York from Gatwick for a Father’s Day treat.
Beaming with pride, Cpt Johansson tells me: “Erik has been flying with me ever since he was little. Five years old, I think.”
“I would sit in the jump seat,” Erik explains. “It inspired me to be like my dad. He’s my idol.”
It’s dreamy work experience, I tell them both, a world away from making endless cups of coffee during my time watching my father at his newspaper office.
How does it feel to be flying alongside your son, I ask.
Sven, a former jet fighter pilot in the Swedish Air Force, explains that it really doesn’t matter who sits next to you — there is a Standard Operating Procedure for all pilot/co-pilot teams.
“It’s a professional thing,” adds Erik.
GO: NEW YORK
GETTING THERE: Norwegian operates two daily flights non-stop from London Gatwick to New York JFK for £289.80 in economy and £589.80 in Premium. A third daily flight will be added from October 29.
STAYING THERE: The Roger Smith Hotel has rooms starting from £150 a night. For more information see .
OUT & ABOUT: A City Pass is 126 dollars. See .
So no family tiffs at 40,000ft then, as long as Dad and I behave.
The journey itself was a smooth reflection of the 33,000 flight hours clocked up by Cpt Johansson in his 40-odd years mastering the skies.
This relaxed mood was enhanced thanks to Norwegian’s Premium cradle seats, which are throne-like and offer a 10in recline, useful for naps in between tasty three-course meals.
And 65 per cent larger windows really do make a difference, especially when illuminated with some pretty funky mood-lighting.
The flight, fast-track security and lounge access (all included in Norwegian’s reasonable Premium package) left us feeling refreshed on arrival at JFK — and with enough energy to hit a Midtown bar, despite the horrendous hour.
Cheers to the city that never sleeps.
We only had two days to cram in the plethora of joys New York has on offer. Plus it was my dad’s first time to the Big Apple, so roles were reversed as I tried to show him the ropes. My plan? Well, mainly beers and burgers.
We stayed at the very trendy Roger Smith Hotel, with its quirky decor and incredibly spacious rooms.
Tucked away on the top floor by the staircase is the entrance to the hotel’s speakeasy-style rooftop bar.
It boasts cracking views over the city and it is easy to see why this is a haunt so popular with the “in-crowd”.
A keen art fan, Dad covered every inch of the Museum of Modern Art the next day.
It was six floors of jaw-dropping stuff, a home to the art A-listers — a Picasso here, a Van Gogh there, a giant Monet thrown in for good measure.
We even found Andy Warhol’s Gold Marilyn Monroe hidden round a corner near the fire exit.
Greenwich Village was next, and The Lobster Place is a shellfish sensation nestled in the chic Chelsea Market.
Walk in, pick your lobster and devour the most succulent, supersized crustacean, all for a few bucks.
We washed ours down with a cheeky beer before picking up a selection of incredible oysters, all mapped out on a board showing various sizes, location and sweetness.
Not far down the road is the Spotted Pig.
It was hard for Dad not to be impressed with the array of beers confronting us at the bar and the sublime food on its tantalising menu.
This includes one of New York’s finest burgers and the city’s greatest bar snack, the Deviled Egg.
The day was capped off with some brilliant music nearby.
Both Bar 55 and Smalls are masters of the New York jazz experience, with dimly-lit stages, outrageously cool hats and some serious foot-tappin’ appreciation. Niiiiice!
A quick trip to Central Park the next day was a must, followed by a hop on the Metro to devour yet another breathtaking burger, this time at the renowned Shake Shack in Madison Square Park.
I would strongly advise picking up a City Pass from for 126 dollars (around £95) if you venture to New York.
It offers a discount and hassle-free access at a host of top attractions, including the Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building and The National 9/11 Memorial & Museum.
The latter takes you down into the heart of the devastation that scarred a nation.
Deformed fire trucks and untouched watches pulled from the rubble now sit hauntingly on display.
The original girders still stand stoic among the despair.
It’s a hard, but important tour.
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The silence of the 9/11 museum is soon replaced with the city’s infamous cacophony of car honks as we stroll back to the hotel in search of more bars and burgers.
As we pass the glorious Grand Central Station (be sure to checkout its speakeasy, The Campbell), I can’t help but think that I’ve nailed Father’s Day this year (well, compared to the tacky card).
So as we enjoy a final Guinness at the funky Snafu, I find myself reeling off “words of wisdom” to my dad about NYC.
And, like father like son, he responds with some aimless nodding.