Just before we took off, the chief hostess introduced the usual duck-and-cover routine with, “We’d like to show you the safety features of the aircraft.” Not one of those features involves getting the aircraft safely to the ground so, frankly, I didn’t care much. At an altitude of 10 kilometres and a speed of 500 kph, I fail to see the value of pulling anything tight around my waist, unless it’s a parachute; or failing that, the cute brunette I’ve had my eye on. There is no purpose in providing a life jacket during a flight whose route covers less water than held by the average kitchen sink. There is little benefit in one final yoga move. It would be as effective as hiding under a table to protect yourself from a nuclear bomb.

However, the hostie did give us useful information about the aircraft’s comfort features. She said nothing.