The hysterical passengers at Larnaca airport were screaming and crying uncontrollably.

‘There’s a Wizz Air flight to Luton tomorrow!’ shouted one girl next to me, looking fit to pop out of her pink skin. ‘What?’ I said, appalled. I don’t know much, but I do know I never want to get a Wizz Air flight to Luton, unless in a full-blown wartime evacuation, and this wasn’t that.

When I tried to scan my boarding pass and it said ‘Flight cancelled’, I just thought ‘Good.’ As the hordes of panicking chavs bombarded the easyJet counter, I turned on my heels and began pulling my wheelie case back towards the exit.

I’m a big fan of budget airlines and hotels. Luxury frightens me and too much choice gives me panic attacks. But there are limits. A Wizz Air flight to Luton? I don’t think so.

Maybe I could just live here in this tiny room, I thought, as I set out all my books and toiletries and clothes again

Maybe I could just live here in this tiny room, I thought, as I set out all my books and toiletries and clothes again

I marched to the taxi point, calling the driver. ‘Come back,’ I said to Ersin. ‘What happen?’ ‘Flight cancelled.’ ‘Flight cancel?’

‘Where you go?’ he shouted as I walked towards him. He was now hysterical for no good reason, except I think the IVF clinic pays him to look after me, so if I don’t get home safely he may be in trouble.

I climbed back into his people-carrier with disco lights on the ceiling. I looked at the panicking sunburnt chavs stampeding from the terminal to get taxis to........

© The Spectator