To say I was afraid of flying would be far from the truth. I don't really have a problem with it. However what I do expect from my flight is some reassurances.

On a recent flight to Croatia I couldn't help feeling pretty uncomfortable (granted, that was partly to do with the fact I had to squeeze my 6'2" frame into a seat with all the spare room of a push chair. I would have got more leg room in a battery farm.) So, I sit down in my seat, casually resting my chin on my knees. The first thing that struck me was the choice of music. I'm no advocate of lift music' but on a plane is one time when I wouldn't mind hearing some panpipe moods, or Eleanor Rigby played on a harp. What we got was a DJ who was pumping out (I quote) "Some phat tuuunes," including "that queeeeen of the RnB scene, Beyonce." Don't get me wrong, I'm only 24, I LOVE phat tunes, I live for phat tunes. But I'm not sure whether it was what the middle-aged, pre-tanned woman behind me wanted to "kick back" to.

The flight starts. At this point, normally the pilot comes on the PA. He's got a deep, well spoken mature voice that sets the cabin at ease. "He's done this a million times before and he knows EXACTLY what he's doing," you think.

Not this flight. My pilot, Dave, sounded like the entertainment on a ferry from Grimsby.

"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls," said Dave, in a thick Manchester accent.

"I hope you're all doing great this morning, and I hope you enjoy the flight. Now let's live La Vida Loca!" (Okay, the last sentence was made up, but the rest is true.) Half way through the flight, Dave pipes up. "Give me some altitude news Dave," I think. It means nothing to me, but I like to try and imagine what 35,000 feet really looks like.

No meaningless altitude info was forthcoming, instead a 5 minute sales pitch about the duty free passing through the cabin.

"Why not try the Estee Lauder summer fragrance? Perfect for day or night, it's sweet, slightly citrusy with a refined freshness to it. It would make a great gift or a special treat for yourself. What's more, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, today we have 20% off the usual price."

"FLY THE PLANE DAVE!" I scream in my mind as he moves onto Sarah Jessica Parker's luxurious new scent.

About an hour in cramp sets in. To make matters worse I'm reading an article in a magazine I bought about BA's new super posh first class seat pods which offer each passenger room equivalent to that of the loft space of a semi-detached house.

Upon landing I want to clap. But there's no room. So I just bang my head against the seat in front.

The final cherry on my mile-high cake, was the music that Dave chose as we drove to our gate. "Don't Worry, Be Happy," by Bob Marley. If any journey was to make me scared of flying. I think this was it.