If God had wanted me to fly, then he'd have given me wings.
I hate it, I hate the whole airport experience and I've got worse as the years have gone by.
But funnily enough, I don't mind the take-off which is supposed to be the most dangerous part, but I don't like landing, it seems to go on forever and a day and I'm thinking to myself "for

sake get this bird down"
The bit in between is torture, I'm bored out of my brains, I can't read because I would suffer with sea sickness (this happens because your ears detect movement, but your eyes are not in co-ordination) and if we hit some turbulence, then I'm

scared.
I think I must suffer with a mild form of claustrophobia and being amongst all those people in a confined space makes me quite agitated, I can't stand the noise and being sat next to a screaming child is pure purgatory"¦.actually my worse nightmare.
I try and get an aisle seat because this gives the illusion of having more space, but if I'm truthful here, some of the general public are so lackadaisical, that they put the "fear of god" into me.
I stick my headphones on and try and snuggle down under a baby blanket that I take, which also comes in handy when the aircraft is freezing cold and people are going into the overhead lockers for their coats.....
Then, I just suffer in silence, counting the minutes away....it's a means to an end and not an enjoyable experience for me.
On a "normal" flight, I wouldn't say I was frightened because I've come to accept the possible consequences of being 35,000 feet up in an aluminium tube....you just have to quash those thoughts from your brain, otherwise you'd be a walking nervous wreck.
Sanji