It's not only the bucket airlines that cause us pain on the plane

I thought it was only the cheap bucket airlines that cram you in with a lot of inconsiderate people too important or lazy to check-in their baggage. But no, British Airways seem also to have joined the trend - as I recently discovered, much to my annoyance.

I have long wondered why it is that increasing numbers of passengers will go to any lengths rather than check-in their baggage. We all know that one item of hand luggage is permissible and yet, for some reason, it appears to be possible to manage hats, shopping bags, large bags that are disguised as handbags, and just about every other item that can be passed off at check-in as being virtually attached to your body.

Along with the rest of us, who pride ourselves in travelling light on a plane, I checked-in my luggage and placed my small bag, with blazer folded neatly on top, in the overhead locker.

Let me assure the insensitive morons - who appear fully-laden and selfishly ram in their luggage that should have been checked-in on top of your neatly folded blazer - that we, the rest of the world, do not look and say to ourselves: "Here is a terribly important person who needs some extra space".

Generally, we think here is a supercilious twit who needs a good slap round the back of the head to wake them up.

The fun does not start only on the plane these days. With all the terrorist threats, which seem to be on the increase around the world, security is, of course, paramount. On my recent trip, however - having arrived at check-in carrying a crutch because of a torn cartilage in my knee - I was heartened when a pleasant young lady ushered me through Express Security.

This is good I thought. There had to be some benefit to travelling as walking-wounded. Not so, I discovered in very short time indeed. It seems, in some perverse way, that if you have anything wrong with you, then you are apparently deemed to be even more of a threat than usual.

Despite having placed everything including belt and crutch through the X-ray machine, the metal pin in my ankle managed to set off the detector. I had been hoping not to take the shoes off, knowing that it had been quite an operation putting them in the first place. But no - despite my pin-in-ankle explanation, off they came.

No complaints - because, of course, security is a huge issue these days. I am not convinced, however, that the pat-down I had the dubious pleasure of experiencing next did not constitute some type of sexual assault.

I half-expected the rubber glove to appear at any moment, along with some lubricant.

I could not help wondering how I would fare if I were to carry on like that every time someone called at our offices. I would either be locked up - or be extremely short of visitors in no time at all.