I HAVE never found flying, even in normal circumstances, particularly easy. On every flight, I have always fleetingly - just for a few seconds - been rather pathetically gripped by the fear that this could be it, this could be the end.

But taking to the air with our children over the last two weeks, from Leeds Bradford to Paris, Sicily and back, there was more than the usual turbulence or noisy landing gear to unnerve me.

Hundreds of thousands of people are refusing to fly since the events of September 11. Airlines are now so concerned they are introducing tough new security measures to calm people's fears.

Despite the fact the Taliban had warned Muslims not to travel by aeroplane and the FBI revealed a new risk of further attacks, I had to keep reminding myself that driving in the car to the supermarket and back posed a greater danger.

We had booked our trip before September 11 and were determined to enjoy it, although it did seem a strange time to get into holiday mood.

The armed police patrolling Leeds Bradford Airport reminded us of the threat we were all trying to forget. But if anyone else was concerned, they didn't show it. Many were businessmen and women who have no option but to fly regularly.

At Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris, security was much tighter. We were given tags to identify baggage, piled up at the foot of the steps of the plane, before we could board.

I explained to the children this was to make sure no one planted anything dangerous on the plane. "But it wouldn't make any difference if it was a suicide bomber," said my ten-year-old matter-of-factly.

Children had toy "laser light" torch key-rings confiscated by security guards, who were concerned about one item in my son's rucksack which showed up under the X-ray machine. It turned out to be his lucky stone. But, the two syringes full of adrenaline in my hand luggage, which I need to carry because our ten-year-old son suffers from a life-threatening food allergy, were not picked up.

Once in the air, I expect most people, like me, couldn't help but imagine what those last, terrifying moments were like for the passengers on those doomed jets of September 11. On the flight back from Sicily to Paris, passengers burst into applause as we landed. "Why is everyone clapping?" a young girl asked her father. "Everyone's just relieved that we've landed safely," he replied.

"But of course we've landed safely. Why wouldn't we land safely?" she asked, smiling incredulously. With that, this carefree youngster dismissed our fears. And for all her childish innocence, she was right.

MICHAEL Barrymore's grovelling TV-confessional will do little to endear him to the viewing public. He came across as self-obsessed, insincere and manipulative. He was weeping only for himself and his doomed career. After sessions in therapy, he says he has learned his main problem is he has never loved anyone. We saw pictures of him recently at his mother's funeral when he wept like a baby. If he is now saying he never loved her, he put on a great show of grief. Was he acting, or were they tears, once again, of self-pity? I think his therapists are wrong. Michael Barrymore has always loved someone - himself.

Published: Friday, November 2, 2001