Come fly with us...

Eight years of life in France have given me so much stuff to tell that I don't know where to begin.

But as I have next to me a copy of the promotional blurb from the company where hubski works (a Russian airline that shall remain nameless), I think I will quote a few paragraphs, as they do a much better job of summing themselves up than I could ever do (and that's saying something).

Here goes:

'Having decided to travel by air many of you will start with numerous questions: which tariff is better, how do I book and buy my ticket, when do I have to be in the airport for the check-in etc, and the answers may prove not to be that simple.'

Well, forewarned is forearmed, I suppose.

This next bit worries me, however:

'Our passenger should be aware that every stage of their trip here on earth and up in the sky will keep them confident and comfortable.'

Good to know St Peter will be on stand-by with the nibbles.

Lastly, I leave you to reflect on this:

'Safety and comfort are ......... Airline's main concern but we also strive to make our flights accessible to the widest range of passengers.'

This explains why I would rather travel to Russia by bus than by plane.

If anyone wants to know what this has to do with France, well, not a lot, I must admit. This is because hubski, despite having been in France for a whopping 15 years, being regularly mistaken for a Frenchman, and a having a string of qualifications, including since recently French nationality (which means, as I am fond of pointing out, every time he tells an anti-French joke he is insulting himself), he has never managed to get hired by a French company.

He works in aviation, and the only reliable route into the French national carrier is via the undergarments of the person who recommends you, except perhaps at entry level (excuse the pun). I do know what I am talking about, so you'll just have to trust me on this one.