"You have crashed into the mountainside. There will be no survivors . . . "

This from the automated, American voice of the laptop of the young man sitting next to me.

He cursed under his breath and started frantically key tapping and mouse manoeuvring. But, had only been doing so for a couple of minutes before automated American chipped in again: "You have overshot the runway and crashed into a hangar. The plane is in flames you must evacuate immediately."

I glanced at the screen which showed: CONTINUE EVACUATION or START AGAIN. Laptop man opted for START AGAIN and the screen came up; WELCOME TO AVIATOR FLIGHT SIMULATOR, PLEASE SELECT YOUR DESTINATION.

Laptop man typed in MUNICH and then, catching me watching with interest, explained his choice of destination: "Munich's a good airport to land at. Fairly modern, no mountains or sea to catch you out, plenty of runway etc etc."

"Where were you trying to get to just now?" I asked.

"Ah well, that was Munich as well. But, I was taking off from Heathrow and that's always pretty busy and, as you probably heard, I didn't get very far!"

"No," I agreed and was about to return to my paper when laptop man, obviously thinking my curiosity had been aroused by a shared interest in computer games rather than a more general interest in finding out exactly what there would be no survivors from, offered me a virtual tour of his cockpit.

"This is a new CD. It's just out in the States," he said. "It's fantastic! You can fly virtually any plane virtually anywhere in the world. So, where do you want to go to today?"

"Australia" I said, looking out at a grey, cloudy, soggy British summer and forgetting that it was probably grey, cloudy, soggy Australian winter on the other side of the world.

"Ah . . .OK. Well, I'll have to make sure I get the right flight path," he said, fiddling about with virtual controls. "Here we go. Hold tight. We're ready for takeoff . . ."

The whole thing looked like an extremely complicated computer game to me (I've yet to get to grips with Patience) but, laptop man assured me things were going well.

We were airborne and apparently cruising at a satisfactory height and heading out over the English Channel.

By the time the train reached Burgess Hill, we were flying over the Himalayas.

But by the time we reached Haywards Heath, we were sinking in the Pacific.

"Damn," said laptop man. "Forgot to refuel. Let's try somewhere a bit easier."

All right then, Paris?" I suggested, thinking there wasn't much could go wrong between here and Paris. How wrong could I be?

The plane has burst into flames. "Activate emergency procedures immediately," chipped in automated American.

"Oh no!" said laptop "I forgot to put the wheels down for landing, sorry . . ."

I was about to ask if the game had a car or ferry option but laptop was, by this time, closing his laptop and putting it away.

"My stop . . ." he explained and proceeded to remove a previously-unnoticed pilot's uniform from the luggage rack, before getting off at Gatwick Airport.

"Nice talking to you," he said.

"Perhaps you'll fly with me one day? . . . "