We washed our first Spanish meal down with a local Sherry, and by god it tasted good. I didn’t realise that Sherry actually came from Jerez until the flight over - I leart that particular gem in the Ryanair in-flight magazine. The actual article was squeezed in between one listing 5 interesting tips to help make an oversized arse more socially acceptable (were talking human backsides here, not British Prime Ministers) and another telling you all you needed to know about cheap boob-jobs in Krakow, Poland (but were too afraid to ask). And, as tempted as I was to nip over to Poland, get two new friends, enjoy them for a fortnight and then get them removed before a flight back to England (all for less than the price of a mediocre stereo system, I must add), I flipped the page and searched for further diversion.

I quickly found the ‘Innovations’ catalogue nestled in the centre of the mag. This pleased me no end as I have a particular, and slightly dark, fascination when it comes to these types of ridiculous inventions - the types that we all poo-poo and point at when in the company of others - like the revolutionary new product for runners with damaged hips that, when they are sprayed with Eezee-Jogg (or some other such concoction similarly littered with intended spelling mistakes), will work even better than after a full ball and socket replacement. We all share the sardonic shake of the head and derisory tssk, but each time we turn away and secretly think ‘Why didn’t I think of that? Something like that is sure to come in really handy one day …’

In years to come it’ll be ‘Lauren, dear, Song of Praise has finished, but I still can’t get out of the armchair. Pass the Eezee-Jogg will you, dear?’ I can picture it now. I still maintain that these inventions could possibly have their uses. Well, most of them. Ok, all of them. You don’t need to say it, or even think it, I already know. Yellow Pages, under ‘S’ for Support Groups.

Well, my secret is out now and it’s a real weight off my mind. The in-flight reading wasn’t the only good thing about the Ryan Air flight; after our landing safely the pilot also played a positively cheery fanfare over the intercom. I’m serious. As bizarre as it seemed at the time, we certainly considered it a nice finishing touch and will no doubt be raping our planet with Ryan Air again soon– especially if more penny flights are involved, and even if Stanstead Airport is closer to Reykjavik than it is to London.
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