IT'S always been a possibility, just never a real one. The world knows all about hijackings, it watches them for real on the news, now and again it dramatises them in books and in films. But the reality is that real people, normal people, people like you and I, don't get caught up in them, well not very often.
It's the same with plane crashes. When they happen it's catastrophic, but the reality is that they seldom occur. Statistically it's much safer to fly than to drive a car - which I find scant consolation being a motoring correspondent as well as travel writer. But the odds don't matter if you become one of the statistics.
The fear of flying is irrational but it afflicts a huge proportion of the population to varying degrees. If you think about it, going by plane is a pretty amazing phenomenon. You sit in an orthopaedically designed chair in air-conditioned comfort, travelling (when the wind is behind you) very close to the speed of sound. You are waited on hand and foot by attractive cabin staff. You have time to read, catch up on work or even watch one of the latest movies. Yet most of us "hate flying". We think nothing of fighting to survive on our virtually grid-locked roads, nor jumping aboard ships, which have taken countless lives over the generations. We are thinking twice about travelling by train following the tragic crashes of recent years. But still the plane is the "necessary evil", despite having the most stringent safety checks and the best trained staff.
Those checks let the world down last week when hijackers took charge of four American domestic flights with devastating effect. It shocked the world, it changed the face of air travel for ever. In the past, hijackers struck to get over some sort of political message. The planes generally flew to a neutral country and after a bit of a stand-off the majority of passengers walked free unharmed. The point was made and all the crew and travellers had to do was keep their heads down.
Those days are over. Extremists saw to that when they flew their aircraft, like missiles, into the twin towers of the World Trade Centre and the Pentagon. In future, victims of hijackings can't help but fear the worst. And faced with that, terrorists can't expect to have such an easy time of it from docile travellers or the authorities that try and thwart such attacks.
So, one week on, does it feel safe to travel? No, of course it doesn't, but that could be a good thing, as disaster strikes when you least expect it.
My travels have taken me all over the world and generally my main anxiety has been the weather. Landing at wind-swept Newcastle Airport in a propeller-powered plane in the gales is an experience to be remembered. But even that paled compared with trying to land at Hong Kong's old Kai Tak Airport in a typhoon. As we bounced off the clouds for the 45 minute descent, virtually every passenger was clutching a sick bag. As we skipped along the concrete runway for the second time, the passengers forgot their maladies to applaud, celebrating that we were all still alive.
So turning up at Teesside Airport on Tuesday morning, in the dark and the lashing rain isn't a particularly good omen for my journey to Switzerland. Things go from bad to worse when greeted by long queues, created by the additional security measures imposed on domestic flights - the soft target for terrorists.
"Could anyone have interfered with your baggage?" asks the check-in girl. "Are you carrying any sharp objects?" As if you would own up to it if you were a terrorist.
Then it's on to security and the new measures. Everyone is now frisked either before or after passing through the customary metal detector. More bags are opened, more personal belongings searched. It's undignified but nobody minds. The security guards are intimidating. They are not impolite but their brusque nature is designed to unsettle should you have anything to hide. It's now also necessary to pause and pose for a digital photograph to be taken, invaluable for identification purposes should the worst happen. Finally, at the gate, passengers are asked to form male/ female queues for a final frisk for one in three people.
In the lounge the mood is sombre, faces gloomy, passengers resigned. You wouldn't normally watch a disaster movie before boarding a plane but this time there's little choice. There's no escaping the grim reality of last Tuesday's terrible events. Every newspaper devotes pages to them, while in the corner the television shows scenes of utter destruction, interviews with New Yorkers and pictures of the Taliban battening down the hatches. And the headlines read "War footing" and "Dead or alive", "We'll get him" and "Confrontation".
It's gloomy stuff and the result is that the plane ride down to Heathrow is eerily quiet. There's no conversation and the cheery British Midland air hostesses' attempts to lift the atmosphere fail. People sit stony faced, and contemplate their fates. It's only as BD331 lands safely at the world's busiest airport that the tension is released - but not for long.
The atmosphere inside Terminal One feels different too. It's not the security, that's always been present at the international airport, though there is an additional check beyond the gate, in the walkway, just before boarding the plane. But again the queues are strangely quiet. The passenger lounges too are subdued as the anxiety builds for the next leg of their journeys.
Once on board, forget eating your food with anything other than plastic cutlery, whatever class you are flying. All metal sharps have been removed.
It's all a bit of a culture shock after years of complacency. But none of it is new to passengers of the Israeli national airline El Al. A trip to the Holy Land a few years back gave me a taste of air-travel to come. Fly El Al and you can expect to have to check in four hours before departure. But don't worry, you will be kept busy filling in questionnaires, having them marked by security staff and remarked in a bid to catch you out. Both hold and hand luggage is completely emptied and if you have an Arab stamp in your passport, expect a hard time and possibly refusal of permission to fly. On board you'll be served by male cabin crew, some of who will be carrying arms. And guess what? Nobody minds. Forget civil liberties, you get there and back in one piece and to me, that's all that matters.
Back to the present and in the airport and on the plane you just can't help looking round, wondering if any of the people you see are extremists wanting to die for the cause today.
But terrorists would be mad to strike now, wouldn't they, when the world is on the highest state of alert? It would be suicide, wouldn't it? But then that's not something that seems to worry them
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