Flyin' Ryan

And this is what set off the chain of reactions that led to my spending a small fortune to get get myself down to the South of France by train last year... An extract from a previous diary entry as we returned from an earlier trip to France.

Paul is now very nervous and says I must check through in front of him in case they throw me back out. Last time they threw me out because I had sneaked in under the barrier when no-one was looking to join the queue of people waiting for check in. I had been 3 minutes late and a very officious Frenchman refused to let me in. When his back was turned I’d half undressed to put him off the scent and with the help of a fellow passenger had snuck through, only to be threatened with the police by the same obnoxious man who’d refused me entry. Flouncing off in a huff I declared that I would ‘never travel with Ryan Air ever again’. Which is why I am now checking in once again … on Ryan Air. Consistency was never a trait I favoured.

In hindsight I should have had a glass of wine before getting on the plane as I hate flying, but I had opted for a strong black coffee. Big mistake. Having extracted my teeth from Paul’s leg on takeoff I finally relaxed enough to scratch my flea bites. Strangely reassuring.
‘Cabin crew, 20 minutes to landing’. The Captain’s voice came over the tannoy. Stupid I know but I’ve always been relieved when the Captain’s English.

It was at this precise moment that the plane went into a steep nosedive. The wing flaps came up accompanied by the most horrendous sound of engines trying to slow the dive. One’s immediate response is to look to the cabin staff. Do they look calm and are they still smiling? Well, as the pilot said ‘Crew please return to your seats and fasten your belts’ I swear they could have competed in the marathon. Not a lot of smiling as they whipped past my seat. Not even time to ask me if I wanted duty free goods. That was the first safety net test failed then. I resisted the urge to stand up and scream ‘We’re all going to die’, but I vaguely recall shouting ‘This is not normal, I tell you, this is not normal’. Stating the bloody obvious is clearly not very helpful and it was only the fact that everyone else was clinging onto their seats that prevented my lynching.

Nothing happened. We didn’t die, the plane recovered and you could hear the knowing conversation from men around me. ‘Air pocket you know.’
‘Just turbulence.’
‘What nose dive, didn’t feel a thing?’
Normal service resumed, so very British. Not a word of explanation from the crew. Was I the only one who was reduced to a jibbering wreck.
‘Did you wet yerself Gran? You looked really scared’ came a voice from a seat three rows back.
I hadn’t imagined it then.
Nana from three rows back provided my support as I casually ask what the problem had been but the cabin steward had still to regain the power of speech. Hey ho! I vow not to fly again as I descend the steps.