Things that go bump in the night...
I hate flying. But a drink before the flight usually helps. And so I had a pint of Stella Artois to relax me before Stu and I jetted off to Sitges last night.
Well, it turns out the only good thing about being at Luton Airport is you get a chance to have a second pint of Stella before the flight to (really) steady the nerves. On this occasion it turned out there were further delays so Ms Artois came to visit a third time too. So as you can imagine I was positively beaming with joy as Stu and I strode towards gate 15 and joined the Speedy Boarding queue for EasyJet flight 2269.
The joy was short lived however. The takeoff was fine as was most of the flight (apart from Little Miss I Can't Stop Talking in the row behind us). No, it was the landing that got me going.
The approach to Barcelona Airport seemed smooth enough as we gently descended. However just as we touched down on the main runway we were all thrown back into your seats as the plane shot forward. The engineers screamed and we soared up into the night sky again.
What we didn't know then, but the captain confirmed a few minutes later, was that there was another plane on the runway and we'd had to perform an emergency takeoff.
Everyone else on the plane just tutted, carried on chatting to their neighbours or continued to read their books and magazines.
I clutched my knees, rocked backwards and forwards and started to cry.
I hate flying.