I've decided I'm going to stay grounded next summer

Ladies and gentlemen, can you put your seatbelts on and take a moment to look over the emergency card and the emergency procedures? Thank you very much.

- Steve Canavan

Given we were 38,000 feet in the air and 10 minutes ago they'd issued exactly the same announcement, I sat bolt upright in my aeroplane seat, gripped the arm rest (because this would surely make all the difference in the event of a crash), and begun to wish I'd made a will before boarding (although given I've no money I'm not sure exactly what my will would say: possibly that I leave all my Bob Dylan albums to my sister - because she hates Dylan so it would be a decent jape from beyond the grave - and that the spare key to my car is in the lower kitchen drawer).

I was flying back from Portugal, where I'd attended an important stocks and shares business conference which provided a valuable opportunity for professional development and networking among my European partners. Actually, that's a lie. I'd been to play padel with a couple of mates and drink lager.

This was a big thing for me-the going abroad, not drinking lager-as it's something I'm not at all comfortable with. I was 17 before I got on a plane (Majorca, 1993, I fell in love with a Spanish girl and a holiday romance ensued... well, by romance I mean I smiled at her each morning as we queued for the hotel breakfast and she looked back at me coldly with no affection whatsoever) and I generally holiday in the UK at destinations like Rhyl, Northumberland or - if I'm feeling flush-Whitby.