As I boarded the plane I couldn’t help but reflect on just how tacky the whole flying experience has become. Back when we all used to think flying was something special, I remember thinking that “Airbus” was on odd choice of name for an aircraft manufacturer. Surely associating air travel with something as commonplace as a bus couldn’t be a good thing.

Looking around the plane I’d just boarded I suddenly realised that the people at Airbus were in fact visionaries. They had seen the future, and thanks to Michael O’Leary et al, the prophecy inherent in their name has come to pass. The lurid blue and yellow plastic of the plane’s interior, plastered with advertising, confirmed my suspicions that these days the bus is a classier way to travel.

Still, it was a pleasure to be travelling alone. It’s not something that happens that often, and the freedom to read a newspaper, grab a coffee and a sandwich, even just pay a visit without having to worry about anyone else is liberating. You don’t realise just how preoccupied you become as a parent until you’re away.

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