Afraid of flying? Sophie Farrah finds some help in getting off the ground...
I’d love to tell you smugly that I haven’t flown abroad in over seven years because I want to reduce my carbon footprint. But the truth is that I am terrified.
I used to love flying. But after one very turbulent flight, followed by some similarly challenging bumps in my personal life, each trip I took became harder. An unbearable sense of being trapped grew more and more intense. Gradually, I began to avoid the experience – and then lockdown grounded me altogether. By the time the pandemic dust had settled and the world had opened up again, just the mere sight of an aeroplane was enough to bring on palpitations.
British Airways estimates that around 25% of the UK population has at least some fear of flying, while 1 in 10 has full-blown aerophobia. Source.
Several airlines have responded by offering fear of flying courses, such as BA’s Flying with Confidence, which promises to help nervous flyers like me set their minds at rest. If I was ever going to taste a proper Greek salad in the glorious heat of the Mediterranean again, I’d have to grit my teeth. And so, filled with immense trepidation, I signed up…
BA has been running its fear of flying course for 35 years, so it’s a well-oiled machine. The day is seamlessly divided into morning (technical) and afternoon (psychological) sessions, followed by an actual flight on a BA jet.
Charismatic captain Steve Allright is in command. A professional pilot since 1990, he has clocked over 18,000 flying hours, is co-author of the BA Flying with Confidence book and has run the course for over 30 years. On the day, he is joined by a team of pilots, cabin crew and psychologists, all friendly and compassionate from the minute I tearfully crossed the threshold of the Sofitel at Heathrow T5.
British Airways
British Airways Captain Steve Allright talks to passengers during the Flying With Confidence course, London Heathrow.
150 of us piled nervously into the hotel’s plush auditorium, where a quick show of hands revealed a vast array of reasons for being there. Some attendees were regular business flyers, others had never flown before, while a great majority had suddenly developed aerophobia following the birth of a child. The latter, apparently, is incredibly common.
The first session of the day covers how planes actually work. From fundamental physics to the truth about turbulence (“uncomfortable, but not dangerous” is the mantra of the course), two confident BA pilots explained it all. It was fascinating, but I remained convinced that my complex could not be cured. I don’t actually think that the plane is going to crash, but when the cabin doors are sealed and I can no longer get off, panic sets in.
After a quick buffet lunch, it was on to the session that resonated with me most: a deep dive into the psychological aspects of aerophobia, the mechanics of fear, and how best to deal with anxiety and feelings of panic. It turns out that claustrophobia, fear of trains, lifts, heights or falling, and a general sense of lacking control, are all common concerns.
Armed with dozens of new relaxation techniques and coping mechanisms, it was time for the dreaded flight: a 30-minute circle over Sussex. And so, accompanied by the cheerful and ever-encouraging entourage of course staff, we were shepherded through security to sit anxiously in Heathrow T5’s busy departures lounge.
On board, my anxiety skyrocketed. Heart pounding, mind racing, every fibre of me wanted to run back to the safety of the terminal. The course staff were dotted throughout the aircraft, ready to reassure. So, trying to put into practice some of the theory I’d just learnt, I turned to the member of cabin crew sitting next to me to talk through my fear of the fear; the seeming loss of control. She encouraged me to try to think positively, rather than fixate on the horrendous (and highly unlikely) scenarios of my imagination. And then, before I knew it, we were off.
Up in the air, I was fine. Better than fine. I was elated and ecstatically proud that I had made it up there. Throughout the trip, one of the course pilots provided a running commentary from the flight deck, explaining the various phases of the flight. Each sound and movement lost its fearful mystery.
Back on terra firma, the communal sense of achievement was joyful. After a quick photo in the cockpit, I was presented with a certificate which I still have proudly pinned to my desk – a reminder of my victory over fear.
I can’t pretend to have been entirely ‘cured’, but I am armed with reassuring knowledge and numerous techniques for tackling the psychological discomfort. The experience gave me the opportunity, in a safe and incredibly supportive environment, to realise that I really can fly. Now I have the confidence and determination to keep doing it. Maybe I will get to taste that Greek salad after all…
BA courses at Heathrow, Gatwick and more, from £395. Online available. See: flyingwithconfidence.com
