I second the 1000 mph+ with a glass of Dom Perignon in my hand. The air correspondent for the Economist was in the next seat (as a reward for his magazine's diligent efforts to get the
scrapped) and he remarked that it was better than working for a living. I toddled into our elegant Sarfoftheriver HQ at 1 pm, fresh as a newly minted daisy, and announced that I had had breakfast in Singapore.
On topic: I recall reading an immediately post-GW1 account of an F-111F claiming M=1.4 on egress from an objective whose residents were highly miffed and heavily armed.