What's the worst flight experience you've ever had?

I'm sure I remember my Dad's mate Sam telling me once that he was on a DC-10 flying across the midwest US when a huge bang was heard and the plane's flight path became erratic. The plane managed land at Chicago and everyone on board was arrestedby the FBI, on the assumption that the "bang" was a bomb.

This was a time when DC-10's seemed to be dropping out of the sky with alarming regularity. Nobody could work out why. It turns out that there was a flaw in the cargo bay door which had been designed to open out, rather than in, to make more space in the cargo/baggage hold. There was a fault with the lock on the door, and when it failed, the catastrophic failure caused the controls to the tail to be cut and the planes simply dropped to the ground. This was one of the first to have the failure and not end up in a ball of flaming wreckage.

I don't want you to think this trip was as bad as that, but it didn't start well.

I'm not going to do a monster Florence blog, but break it up into manageable bites. This one discusses the travel to and from Firenze (as the locals have it). I've titled this blog "worst experiences" because our 08:40 flight from Manchester - the first leg of the journey - didn't actually leave the terminal building until after 12:30.

We arrived at the airport in plenty of time, checked our bags in, and went through security and looked for breakfast. On the journey to the airport we had discussed with the taxi driver - apart from the standard "Are you busy" and "What time did you start/ will you finish?" questions which are mandatory on any taxi ride - the weather. It was cold and clear but I'm sure he muttered something about snow being forecast. Knowing what sort of winter we've had, I snorted derisively.

While we were having breakfast I looked out of the terminal window and...

So it was snowing. As you can see there was a dusting on the plane (the one shown here wasn't ours) but none sticking on the ground. In the background you can see a plane has just landed. So it wasn't going to be a problem.

We boarded our plane on time, and everyone stowed their hand luggage, sat down, fastened their seatbelts and there was the low hubbub of people looking forward to the journey.

After a while it became clear that we weren't about to take off as there had been no safety announcement and we'd passed the 08:40 take off time. The captain came on the PA and explained that we couldn't take off. Not because of conditions on the runway, or in the air but because we needed to be de-iced. He would update us later.

Sitting next to me was a Jewish chap who was on his way home to Zurich, and was very kind and helpful. When he realised we were going to miss our connection, he used his iPhone app to work out what our options would be. He also shared some of the food he'd brought on board. Very nice they were too.

This did not go down well, and the stag party sitting near us - who were only out of the country for 48 hours - were starting to get twitchy that they'd be late for their onward transport from Zurich. They chilled out a bit once the cabin crew started dispensing drinks (beer in their case), and one of them put on some party music.

The captain came on again and explained that Manchester Airport didn't have many de-icing trucks and that one, or more, had broken down. We were number 18 in the queue and each plane took about 45 minutes to de-ice. General unhappiness, especially when the stag party found out that the beer had run out and the crew were reluctant to sell them wine or champagne.

The captain came on again and explained - and this was a bit confusing - that he'd got a private company to come and de-ice the plane ahead of the Airport-owned ones (I guess). Does this mean he "bribed" the airport de-icers? Or are there private de-icing companies who hang around the airport in the hope of a bit of business? "£1000 to de-ice your plane mate, or £500 cash in hand"

The plane next to us being de-iced.

Anyway, we eventually pushed back from the stand (I hope you see all the technical language I'm using) and headed off for takeoff just after 12:30. We'd missed our connecting flight by a couple of hours.

We landed at Zurich and headed for the Transfer Desk having been told we'd been booked on the next flight to Florence at 17:15. I joined the queue and by this time was starving so asked gel to source me a butty.

I ate the butty in the queue, got my new boarding cards and was given a voucher to buy another butty.....d'oh!

One can spend a lot of money in Zurich airport if one wants.

Our transfer was sorted, we went to the gate and boarded the next part of our journey, and this time I bagsied the window seat. I LOVE looking out of the window when I'm on a plane. It's not because I'm scared and gives me comfort, I just love looking out of the window.

I'm also an inveterate taker of pictures from the window, even though experience has demonstrated that it's impossible to take decent pics from a plane. The one exception to this is a picture taken by my friend Keith, but he has the advantage of driving the plane, and can probably open the window for a better shot.

Here are a couple of duffers from the ZUR - FLR flight.

Taking off with Zurich below.

The Alps.

As you can see from the last picture above, there was a beautiful sunset as we approached Florence which narked me somewhat. I had planned out what we'd do on our first afternoon on Florence and it ended by dropping Gel off for a rest before tea and me taking evening shots of the Ponte Vecchio with - hopefully - a flaming red sky reflected in the Arno. Well this sunset happened, as do all the great sunsets, while I was in a car/train/bus or in this case plane. The two other evenings were dull as a dull thing, although this didn't stop me trying to get a shot (see later blog).

Anyway, we were now (eventually) in Florence, and our adventure could begin.

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P.S. I have just sent off my request for compensation to Swiss Air. I'll let you know how that goes.