I detest flying. It terrifies me. I hate the take-off, the landing, and the in-between part where everybody else relaxes with a bag of peanuts and a best-seller, and I assume the emergency landing position and pray to every god I can think of.

Yet, despite my spine-curdling fear of all things plane related, Airline remains one of my favourite low-budget programmes. It’s even had me considering putting in an application at Luton airport. Seriously.

The great thing about this programme is that you are privy to all those little human dramas that play themselves out in public, without having to avert your eyes or hide behind a newspaper.

The flights are rarely featured, unless some well-meaning romantic soul decides to propose to his girlfriend at horribly high altitude, or an Elvis impersonator, on the way to a sell-out tour of Magaluf, gives an impromptu performance the minute he can take his seat belt off.

The camera crew prefer to camp out at check-in and record a constant stream of unhappy passengers going radio rental at the staff. Because the staff are responsible for everything you see. Flat tyre made you an hour late? Blame the staff. Forgot your passport? Blame the staff. Hurricane meaning all flights to everywhere grounded, without exception? A clear case of human error, and a definite case for a refund and a night in a four star hotel, courtesy of the airline.

The staff themselves are so calm in the face of almost constant abuse, that you could be forgiven for suspecting that they are heavily medicated. Occasionally, they offer their own lives up for speculation, and then we get to see just how little time they actually have for anything other than their job. And just how thankless their job is. Still, they wouldn’t get the chance to be featured in a documentary if they worked in a kennels or dug holes for a living now would they?

Airline, Fridays at 8pm, ITV