A lot of the people I come across on planes seem to be experiencing air travel for the very first time ... particularly this morning. After explaining to the chap who was in my seat when I got on board the plane that the large numbers and letters on his boarding pass are an indication of where he is expected to sit, I am squashed up against the window in economy class watching four stewardesses try to get 200 people, each with two or three large plastic bags of carry-on luggage, to sit down, stop talking on their phones, leave their seats upright and fasten their seat belts long enough for the plane to take off.

 

It doesn't work of course. As soon the flight attendants do up their own seat belts, out come scores of mobile phones, and texting and calling begin again.

 

And what am I doing here in this economy class pandemonium?

Well, I'm on my way to Manila and, thanks to several factors, I'm flying economy. But the flight is fairly short, and with my iPod on my head and my eyes closed, I manage to endure the trip without having a panic attack.

Once on the ground in the Philippines, everyone stands up the moment the plane touches down. The flight attendants go into action, but to little avail.

Once off the plane, I endure the mild embarrassment of not tipping the three-piece band playing When the Saints Go Marching In as I walk past.

Manila must be the only airport in the world that has live music playing as you disembark. It must be very disheartening to watch thousands of people rush past without so much as a nod.

Once through immigration, I find my way to my car and, although the driver gets lost on the way, nobody at the first meeting seems to mind my late arrival.

Meetings in the Philippines are always entertaining. Any major client is almost always going to be a family company. So the meeting will include a lot of people with the same last name, and a surprising number of folks who look like teenagers. It is important to understand that you are meeting the right people - those teenagers have more money than you can imagine.

As soon as you begin speaking, the entire room will take out at least one of their phones and start sending text messages. Don't take it as a sign that they're not listening. People here are quite confident texting while listening to a presentation from a banker, just as they can text while watching a movie, text while having dinner with their wives, or text on one phone while talking on another.

I'm returning on the same day and I soon find myself back at the airport. Wherever I can I use  e-tickets, a brilliant innovation that makes it unnecessary to carry a plane ticket any more. Unfortunately it has its downside.

"Passport and ticket," says the security guard at the entrance. I hand over my passport and say: "I don't have a ticket. Mine's an  e-ticket."

"Please show me the printout of your e-ticket," says the guard.

"I don't have a printout. I get an e-ticket so I don't have to carry a ticket or anything else."

"Sorry. No entry without a ticket or printout," he explains without even the slightest hint that he sees the problem this clearly creates for me.

After explaining myself at length to him, I learn that in another part of the airport building it is possible to get a printout.

Once I find this door and someone eventually turns up to help all of the people waiting, I am able to get hold of a printout of my e-ticket. By this time, unfortunately, I am running very late.

I cut queues, I run through the terminal, I apologise to people I bump into, and I argue with the airline staff who tell me that I'm already too late and I make it just on time. I slump red-faced into my economy class seat, still clutching my passport, my shoes and my belt, which I didn't have time to put back on after security made me take them off.

As I am catching my breath, I'm sure I hear somebody behind me say: "A lot of people you see on airplanes are travelling for the very first time."