Love is in air — but sadly romance fails to take off

‘Falling in love again... never wanted to... what am I to do... can’t help it.” Maybe I am finally getting the hang of it. I managed to fall in love, do nothing about it, and forget about her all in the one day, thus obviating the need for all of those messy break-up emotions.

I recently travelled on Aeroflot and it’s like taking a trip back in a time before Michael O’Leary threatened to charge us by weight.

I have always had a sneaking regard for his concept — and more than a sneaking regard when placed beside a 20-something stone male who has no shame about fitting an extension to his already generous seat belt. I am all for fat shaming. There are times in life when I wish someone had shamed me. My mood for the day is set by the weighing scales. It may as well talk.

I digress. The average Russian passenger has a case fit to bursting and it is wrapped in cling film before it is put in the hold. If it burst the fuselage might shatter. What didn’t fit in the case is brought on to the plane in three or four more bursting bags of different shapes and sizes. These are forced into the overhead bin amid a lot of bad-tempered shouting and what I assume is Russian foul language.

Grannies struggle down the aisle looking like they are going into battle and ask young men to fit all their coats, bags and parcels overhead until you are finally left with a small thin lady who weighs so little even Mr O’Leary would give her a discount — while charging a small fortune for the kitchen sink she has brought.

Eventually everybody sits down and there is some semblance of order. My eyes became fixed on the attractive air hostess up front who has taken all of the chaos with good humour.

“Love’s always been my game... play it how I may... I was made that way... can’t help it...”

She has a gorgeous smile and I have slightly fallen for her when she begins the safety demonstration. She knows, as we all know, that this is a total waste of time. If the plane goes down we are all brown bread, but I will still cling to her.

She cannot stop giggling all of the way through the demo and, despite many attempts to stare at the ceiling, she has totally lost it.

By now I am totally infatuated by her. Love, or perhaps lust, can happen in the most unlikely places.

What a pity about our age difference, the cultural chasm between us and the communication problems.

Apart from these minor details I am sure we could make a go of it.

But today I will settle for getting an extra glass of red wine with my dinner from her and will eternally regret not learning Russian.

I placed my order. She fulfilled it with a smile.

A perfect relationship.