Returning home from the USA after eight consecutive days running dog training seminars I was hoping for a quiet flight, watch a film, couple of drinks, then snooze my way across the Atlantic.

I didn’t worry when the captain asked us to fasten our seat belts somewhere over Newfoundland, in fact I thought it rather appropriate considering I reeked of Labradors.

But this wasn’t your standard fasten-seat-belt request. We were heading into massive turbulence. My dinner tray suddenly shot off my lap flinging its contents all over the terrified passenger sitting across the aisle.

The sudden drop in altitude made me glad I hadn’t eaten the pasta.

Everything that wasn’t bolted to the floor rattled, the din was unnerving.

I tightened my seat belt just as hard as I could, fearful that I might follow the dinner tray.

The lady next to me buried her head in her hands.

Kids screamed while unconvincing parents tried to tell them it was only like riding a roller coaster (except for the Atlantic Ocean). Yeah…right.

Even kids know that 32,000 feet is a little too high for thrill-seeking.

You couldn’t even pass it off as a ride on the Log Flume.

Turbulence rarely lasts long but this time it did. For some reason, best known to the crew, we were taking a serious buffeting. It’s amazing the things that flashed through my mind.

Like whether I’d live long enough to see Alan Sugar have a shave or Simon Cowell button up his shirt.

Things got really rough … everyone was queasy, even Colin Firth was sick and he was in the movie.

At one point a large American guy staggered down the aisle towards the toilet. "Sit down," yelled the Geordie next to me. "You’ll fall on someone."

The American gave him a one-finger salute and the Geordie returned it with two fingers.

I have no idea what that was about … probably something to do with the exchange rate?

When things finally calmed down we breathed a huge sigh of relief and complete strangers chatted like friends reunited.

Isn’t it wonderful what shared adversity can do?

The views on this page are Vic Barlow's and not necessarily those of the Express