Returning form Singapore’s Changi Airport to, and it’s with some hesitation that I mention these in the same sentence, Paris Charles de Gaulle is very much like going from the Promised Land of milk and honey and being plunged directly into the darkest and most heinous depths of Hedes. Something as simple as a mere terminal transfer at the world’s worst airport can turn into an experience that could well emotionally scar a man for very, very long time.

But I’m back now, and I’m OK. We can get through this.