Early January 2025, I flew out of Nice, over the Alpes Maritimes on my way to Oslo. The plane was pretty full and I had a seat in the last row, by the toilets. I asked the stewardess if the plane was full, hoping to move to a better position, but it was pretty packed, so I sat down next to the window. At least I had the row to myself. The row in front of me was full and at the end sat a person who spoke good English with a slight Spanish accent. He was chatting to the guy in the middle who responded in English with a very heavy Norwegian accent.

A woman sat down in the opposite back row, also on her own. At the very last minute a man sat down in my row, at the end. I looked at my ticket and realised that I should be sitting where the woman was. But now boarding was complete and no one seemed to mind. We all had space.

The plane took off and after not too long the Captain came on the speaker and warned that we would be experiencing some turbulence ahead. I wasn’t too concerned, there is often some bumpiness where the ocean wind meets the mountains.

But this time was different. The plane started shaking harder than I have ever experienced before. Being back at the tail didn’t improve things, we were flung about like a paddle ball. And it didn’t stop. I grabbed on to the seat in front of me and tried to control my breathing. I attempted some rudimentary meditation, but the motion was too disturbing to concentrate. However, I was in my little cocoon, doing my best to ignore the awful agitation and coupling out thoughts of death as best I could.

Out of my right eye I noticed that the man next to me had moved next to the woman in the other back row. She was crying, very panicky, her body wracked with small spasms. He sat down next to her, put his arm on her shoulder and started talking calmly. He kept on talking, reassuring and distracting her. I felt an immense admiration for his effort and his humanity. And a stab of embarrassment. I should have done the same, if it had occurred to me. But he was between us and closer by far, so naturally it fell to him to comfort her. Yet still, would I have done the same? I’d like to think so, but you never know.

After an age the plane calmed down. The stewardesses unstrapped themselves and wrangled the drinks cart out into the passageway. As we were closest we got to order first. I asked for two gin and tonics. The man next to me had retaken his seat. He had an aura of kindness about him, a selflessness.

Suddenly a small bottle of red wine appeared on his tray. I hadn’t heard him ordering, so I assumed it was the stewardesses, treating him for being so nice to the scared woman. He looked up, surprised. “What is this for?”

The Spanish guy in the seat ahead of him turned his head.

“That’s because you’re a man.”