The only skill you need, John, is that tone in the voice that hints that you are confident to get an overloaded old crate off the runway, and an up to date road atlas to add some semblance of navigation.

I resent all the sexist remarks demeaning me as a frilly plaything, as my rear has collapsed either side of a sharp saddle, me lycra's lumpy, and I lack the ascerbic wit to insult stupid passengers at 46,000 feet.

Better that I fly the plane, as I got 'O' Level Geography, and I have actually sailed into Halifax, which is very similar to flying, give or take a third dimension.

Skipjack