JOHN MAHONEY

The pilot of our British Air 777 made the softest landing I've ever lived through. We'd made great time, what with the 145 mph tailwind. Due in at 8:45 a.m., we were over Heathrow at 8 a.m...

...where we spent the next half hour doing very large circles and loops while waiting for clearance to land...

...and the following sweaty hour waiting in line to clear British passport control and waltz through customs.

Let me back up a few hours.

Lucky Pierre drove his van down the driveway back in Fool's Hollow at 3:30 p.m. -- right on time. There were four other passengers plus one to pick up in Magog. After half an hour, he showed up and we moved right along to Montreal, dropped him off in Longueuil, then on to Dorval.

Checked in at the British Airways desk, got rid of our large bags, had the best crepes I've ever eaten at Eggcentricity, cleared the security check, bought a jug of Glen Morangie single malt scotch at the Duty Free, paid a $10 "airport improvement fee" , and finally got on board.

Have you ever flown Swine Class?

It's officially marketed as World Traveler. The food is good, for airline food. The service comes with a smile. The two free scotches were much appreciated.

But the seats, Dear God, the seats...

The seats are narrow, very narrow.

And the leg room for each narrow seat is limited, very limited.

When the swine in the seat in front of you tilts the back of her seat to recline, it shoves the small TV set very close to your face.

You, of course, do the same with the same effects to the swine behind.

This does not happen up front to the lovelies flying Swan Class, but back in steerage it affects everyone flying Swine.

It gets very warm, what with all the body heat that needs to be dissipated. And I was surprised at the noise.

Whisper jets floating above the puffy white clouds, no, not really. Those sumbitches roar at 695 mph through the midnight sky, pushed along with stiff tailwinds, with the odd bump and jostle from pockets of turbulence.

The heat within contrasts nicely with the heat without -- 61 below at times.

All this data is available on the mini video console in front of your nose. Plus movies plus music plus news. I listened with interest as Dubya referred to a prominent American journalist as an asshole, which may have been very accurate. Then I refought WWII in a submarine.

Terry the Cabbie was waiting for us at Heathrow and we drove for the next 90 minutes in the wrong lane to Hornchurch and the waiting arms of Cousin Kathleen and a nice hot cup of tea.

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