“We understand that a few of you might feel a little anxious about today’s journey - but I can assure you that with almost forty years of experience between us on the fight deck here, this is all very normal and you have absolutely no need to worry"

"Even if things might feel a little uncomfortable from time to time.”

Uncomfortable?

Last Saturday Lois and I took an early flight to Copenhagen for a weekend city break, taking in the Danish Christmas markets, visiting the Tivoli Gardens and enjoying a couple of days of festive spirit. Neither of us had been there before, so were excited to try somewhere new. At 4.45 am the alarm went off and our journey began.

North-East bound for Denmark - with Storm Darragh below.

placeholder image — North-East bound for Denmark - with Storm Darragh below.

We’d booked to fly out of Heathrow’s Terminal 5 - somewhere I like. Dropped by Lois’ dad, this would be a treat. I resent the ignominy of going through security - it always seems akin to a cattle market and I either get grumpy about the whole process or shut down until I’ve been able to put my boots back on, replace my belt and resume feeling human. But this was different. For starters there were lots of x-ray machines, staff who treated us as people - and almost no queues. I still got tested for drugs - ‘just a random check, sir’ - but it was fine.

Security cleared, we headed off to find some breakfast at one of Mr Ramsay’s emporia. I don’t know what his other outlets turn over annually, but this must be one of the top ones. Spacious, quiet, unflustered and speedily served, it was a great way to prepare for flight time. We’d checked in with about an hour spare - BA had said 45 minutes would be fine but we wanted a margin, just in case. Just as well really - because something now stood in our way, threatening everything.

Storm Darragh.

At 2.30 am I’d had a warning email saying that there could be disruption to our plans. Looking out over the airport from the restaurant, all seemed fine. Our flight showed as a) still due to take off and b) take off on time. Darragh was coming in from the west - we would be flying north-east. Not unduly concerned, we ambled to the gate, boarded a coach to the aircraft steps, and took our seats on an Airbus A320 - a so-called `minibus’ in airline parlance. It was all very relaxed.

Belted up and ready to fly, I became aware of darkening skies and movement in the aircraft. It was rolling drunkenly and occasionally shuddering from the back, akin to a small boat bobbing around on the sea. Turbulence? Here, on the ground? Darragh was arriving. Our Captain then came on the intercom and, in reassuringly trained tones, gave us the ‘relax’ speech. So that was alright. Our flight time had originally been stated as being 2 hours and 10 minutes - but today BA814 would be hurtling across a stormy sky to Copenhagen and doing the job in eighty-three minutes - knocking a third off thanks to Darragh’s power. Blimey.

Taxiing, I watched the wind flatten the grass outside - an impressive sight. Once lined up the Captain opened the taps - and within thirty seconds we were airborne, flying directly into Daragh. Our minibus rose skywards at a rate similar to that of a Spacex launch - and yes, it was bumpy. Designed to do so, the wings of the plane flexed while lifting us higher. A minute after takeoff we were deep in Darragh’s clouds but within ten we’d burst through into a sunny morning, the storm now well below us. The cabin crew began their service, handing out seasonal gingerbread biscuits and bottles of water - the flight would be too short for meals. Outside, the ground slipped underneath us at about six hundred miles per hour - pushed on by Darragh.

Here’s a tip - it works. If you experience airborne turbulence, lean forward in your seat so your spine isn’t touching the seat back. As the aircraft jolts, your trunk pivots through your hips, lessening the effect. I did so, avoiding the use of the 3 bags kindly left in the seat back ahead of me.

Almost before it had started we began our final approach into Kastrup airport. The sun vanished, replaced by cloud, but any lumpiness was no more than you would expect on finals on any regular flight. The crew had been right - there had been no need for alarm. Denmark welcomed us warmly and as we headed for the train into a festive capital city which is well worth visiting, it struck me how unremarkable things had been. Just like taking a trip on a coach or bus.

Or even a Minibus.