Plane speaking

Just back from Cork.

I popped over to catch up with John Mallon who has been Forest’s spokesman in Ireland for 14 years.

Having led the world with the smoking ban in 2004 - something Irish politicians are insanely proud of - the country is now playing catch up on a number of regulations, including a ban on tobacco vending machines and age restrictions on the sale of e-cigarettes.

Incredibly, the Public Health (Tobacco Products and Nicotine Inhaling Products) Bill began its long journey in 2014.

Four years ago it was called the Public Health (Tobacco Products and Nicotine Inhaling Products) Bill 2019, but this year it became the Public Health (Tobacco Products and Nicotine Inhaling Products) Bill 2023.

Now there are plans to add further regulations to the Bill - specifically restrictions on the sale and marketing of e-cigarettes - that threaten to delay it even further.

Thankfully there doesn’t seem to be any desire (yet) to follow in the footsteps of New Zealand or Rishi Sunak and introduce a generational ban on the sale of tobacco, but you know how quickly these things can change.

Anyway, I always enjoy my visits to Ireland, although I was a bit apprehensive on Sunday when I saw the weather forecast for Monday morning, when I was due to fly to Cork from Stansted.

Storm Debi was predicted to hit Ireland before continuing its journey across the Irish Sea and then the UK, with wind speeds of 50-60mph and gusts significantly more than that.

The weather warning for Cork was upgraded from yellow to orange and being a nervous flyer, even in good weather, I wasn’t best pleased.

My flight was due to depart Stansted at 7.55am but when I woke at 4.00 and heard the rain lashing down outside I thought better of it and booked a seat on an evening flight when the forecast was better.

As it happens, the early morning flight on which I was originally booked landed in Cork on schedule, but by the time I got to Stansted for the later flight it was blowing a gale right across Cambridgeshire and Essex.

Sod’s Law.

Thankfully, apart from a slightly bumpy take off and landing, plus some mild turbulence mid flight, it wasn’t too bad. (Sorry to disappoint.)

The (irrational?) unease I feel when flying (I wouldn’t call it fear) harks back to my honeymoon 31 years ago when a small plane we were on in America dived up and down like a rollercoaster as the pilot battled to navigate our way around a thunderstorm.

It was probably no more than 30 seconds, although it felt much longer, but that - and another turbulent flight to the Cayman Islands on the same holiday - has influenced my dislike of flying ever since.

To be fair, I didn’t experience anything like that again until a few years ago when I flew out of Dublin.

The wind was around 40mph (the limit, apparently, for a ‘safe’ take-off) and the plane shook and ‘bounced’ so badly on take-off, and for several minutes as it climbed to cruising height, that I had to hold on grimly to the seat in front as we were thrown around.

Not pleasant.

In contrast to this feeble flyer, my mother, who will be 93 next month, told me recently that she would love to go into space, and she wasn’t joking.

I can understand the appeal of being weightless and looking down on Earth, but it’s the few minutes it takes to get there I don’t fancy, and the re-entry.

Apparently, in the days when you could book a flight on Concorde, my father suggested they book seats on one of those flights that took passengers on a round trip to and from Heathrow and over the Bay of Biscay.

They didn’t do it in the end, not because my mother didn’t want to, but because she felt it was too expensive. I think she regrets that decision now.

Anyway, I’m pleased to report that my return flight from Cork this morning was about as smooth as you could hope for. If only flying was like this all the time!

Above: Returning from Cork this morning. Below: Terrace at the Montenotte Hotel overlooking Cork harbour