Normally a seat in the second row on a transatlantic flight would mean plenty of leg room – perhaps even a bed – but not on this service.

I was sitting directly behind a mother and a baby, both of whom were squeezed into the left hand corner of the cock-pit. To the right of them was the pilot, who also happened to be the woman’s husband. My own seat was also very cramped. It was the passengers further back in the plane who had all the room, complete with beds and white muslin curtains.

On arrival in Portobello TPR harnessed me up. I was competing in a flat race, playing the role of horse against one other human competitor.