Cabin Fever

It's not often that I spend much of my time thinking about airline cabin crews. Unless I'm in a plane that's preparing for take-off, is mid-flight or is coming into land. It's at times like those that it's almost impossible to ignore the unsung heroes and heroines of the sky.

Whether it's the chic sophistication of an Air France air hostess, or the perma-tanned glow of an Easyjet flight attendant, it's too easy to dismiss them as merely glorified tea-ladies (and lads) in the sky.

We take their role as air-borne ambassadors for Revlon, Gallaghers and Rotary watches too lightly if we see them only as people paid to try to flog us expensive stuff in a bid to empty our wallets of the last bits of strange currency lurking there before we arrive back home.

Well, Bill Blunt isn't one of those who underplays their importance, I can tell you. I've seen them in action, re-assuring a nervous Mrs Blunt that the 114 tons of plane, people and luggage making up the Boeing 747 she's flying on really will take off safely, stay in the air and land at the other end without any foreseeable difficulty. And that's quite a skill, I can tell you.

And let's not forget their role in helping make sure that their planes run to schedule. Admittedly, some of them are better at this than others but, on the whole, they do sterling work.

Finally, let us not discount their impact on the night-time economies of city centres the world over. Without the sight of late-night stewards tripping gaily from bar to bar, Manchester, Liverpool and further-flung places would be the poorer for it.

It's a brave man that accuses Bill Blunt of over-gilding his case just to get some award or other. That's never been my style, and never will be. But if I've made you think again about the role of the humble cabin crew member, then I've done my job.