Traveling from the UAE to California is not a journey to be entered into lightly. One is divided from the other by 11 time zones. (Twelve time zones in the winter, when California goes off daylight savings time.)

Only one nonstop exists from the UAE to California. (Emirates, from Dubai to Los Angeles, for 16 hours and a lot of money.)

We opted for a less expensive but longer journey — from Dubai to Paris on Air France; from Paris to Los Angeles on the same.

How did that work out?

A draining trip. From door to door, 28 hours, including the 90-minute drive from Abu Dhabi to DXB, a sort of harrowing introduction to coming ordeals.

Most of seven hours through the early hours of Wednesday to Paris on a full Boeing 777. Then a four-hour layover that actually seemed closer to blessing than delay … and most of 11 hours from CDG to LAX. (The 777 is a nightmare of a plane, nearly always arranged in a 3-4-3 layout, which makes for a lot of really bad seats, with people jammed into you on both sides. I always try to avoid the 777.)

So.

One attractive aspect of a trip this long is a sense of not being responsible for anything that happens, back down on Earth, for a fairly long stretch of time. No phones ring, at 35,000 feet. No meetings are held, no deadlines set, no complaints forwarded.

That produces a sense of freedom, even while stuck inside a metallic tube hurtling through the upper reaches of the atmosphere. In a sense, it is relaxing and liberating.

In combat with those notions are the realities of modern air travel, which tends to be brutish and degrading. Humans given a few square feet and a chair to spend chunks of days. Practically a prisoner of your seat assignment. “Please keep the aisles clear …”

One way to mitigate the ordeal is to spend the money (or use frequent-flyer miles) to work your way into a section of the plane more grand than “economy” class.

For us, that meant “premium economy” (which seems a malapropism like “jumbo shrimp”), an Air France designation that is better than economy but quite some distance short of business class.

The key to premium economy is slightly more room: maybe two inches left to right, two more inches ahead of your knees, and a seat which reclines a bit more steeply, and a leg rest — with a foot rest attached to the rear of the seat ahead. On long trips, this can be crucial.

Premium economy on the 777 is about five rows in the front half of the plane. On the A380, it is in the rear half of the second floor.

A word on the A380. I was flying it for the first time, and it creeps me out a little. It’s too big. If some international version of Southwest Airlines decided to turn it into one enormous coach layout … more than 800 people could fly on there. (Which would make for the greatest air disaster, if one of those ever went down.)

Maybe I was being paranoid, but the plane seemed stiff and awkward, as a flying machine. It needs a long runway to take off and land, and it requires some retrofitting at airports to load/unload two decks of people.

But it was the “in the air” part that got to me. I felt like the whole of the plane was a little creaky, and shifting and making not-reassuring sounds. I hope not to make a habit of flying it. The 747 seems cozy and nimble, by comparison.

So, 28 hours from door to door. But it would have been more difficult had we not bought our way into the Air France lounge in the 2E terminal, at CDG. We were some of the first 10 people into the sprawling space, filled with comfy chairs, a sleeping area, an eternal buffet, showers, desktop computers (out of order, while we were there), access to newspapers and magazines and even a spa area — with 20-minute, no-charge massages available.

By the time the four hours in there were up, we were as ready as people can be for another 11 hours inside a tube.

Again, we were in the “bulkhead” area of premium economy, and the extra space ahead of us (to accommodate an emergency exit) was nice, we also did not have a foot rest, so it was difficult to sleep because getting our legs comfortable was nearly impossible. That was more of a problem on the first flight, when I really was tired.

On the second, I saw no fewer than four movies. Which helps move things along. I also have found Air France meals to be better than many others, and the notion of “service” — long gone from U.S. domestic airlines — is not yet dead. We got little pouches with masks and warm socks, etc. We did not have to pay for meals or pillows.

The end of the journey was the ordeal of LAX. Again (and still), it is an airport that ought to embarrass Los Angeles — and the region. Old, cramped, worn, dirty, chaotic. And that is the Bradley Terminal, the “new” terminal.

It was an hour from the time we exited the plane to the time we were able to come out of the customs area. Slow and aggravating, especially at the end of such a long trip.

So, yes, a trip you make with a lot of planning, and not on a whim. And the reward: Seeing family and friends at the end.