So my first travel experience by plane was arranged by my boyfriend, who was frustrated by the thought of sitting next to me on a non-airconditioned bus all the way to Algiers from London.

Although at the time I didn't take this very well (why wouldn't he want to sit, enchanted by my glittering wit for 49 hours?), I knew that the time had come to get on a plane. My friends were living abroad, I was planning grad school in the US and I wanted to travel to Australia. Perhaps I was over-estimating the bus as a mode of transport.

The estate agent looked surprised as we walked in, demanding the next cheapest ticket to wherever. My adventurous bones ached as Sam handed over his card to buy two tickets to Ayia Napa, Cyprus.

'Oo it'll be lovely' the saleswoman trilled. 'Lots of pubs, clubs and saucy boys, hehehe'. Coming from a 50 something woman, this unnerved me enough to whisper:

'Lets not go. Please. Leave. Now' to Sam. He raised his eyes at me and justified why he was making me go to somewhere I would normally have jumped off a roof into a pit of flames to avoid. I had to get on these flights. My mum, worried about my previous harebrained mishaps where I had cost her a huge amount of money.

'You're flight leaves at 7.30am in the morning. It flies into Naples and then you have to take the bus. It's a quick one, only about 2 and a half hours. Don't worry about it'. I had nodded politely, packed my bag and had promptly made my way to Rail Europe's headquarters in London and had shelled out all of my saving money on a £265 one way train fare to Italy. Not only had I wasted my mums money, I'd also lied to her about taking the flight. I came clean and she booked me onto a BA Fear of Flying course.

I was there for three hours, before I left. I had been so terrified at the thought of getting on the plane flight at the end of the day, I actually ran away during the lunch break. I'm not sure why I'm afraid of the plane. I understand the basic aerodynamics, I have various relatives and friends who hold pilots licenses, but during take-off I just want to scream as loud as I can and cry my eyes out until we're cruising.

It took Sam a year into our relationship to get me onto a flight to Cyprus. In hindsight, choosing a 5+ hour flight to somewhere I really didnt want to go was probably a poor choice. After the longest 5 hours of my life, complete with tears, Sams bruised hand from me clucthing it for 5 hours (I convinced myself that if I let go I'd fall to my death) and an overwhelming sense of achievement, we landed in Cyrpus.

Despite the fact it was Cyprus, it was the single happiest moment of my entire life.