I awoke to ice crystals, sparkling in the morning sun, beyond my bedroom curtains, this morning in Hampshire; a heavy frost lay on the landscape, like Narnia, the magical world created by C.S. Lewis in the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe.

Yesterday, it was a clouldess day, so I cleared the drive of the Autumn leaves. I could not believe my eyes when, across the road, in the field by the pub, a huge hot air balloon, completely out of context, descended from the heavens. It was very close and very overpowering. Domino was barking like mad at it. I went and had a look. I think they had to make an emergency landing.

Many moons ago, while I was at University, I had a boyfriend who was a pilot. His name was Peter, and Mum used to call him, ‘Peter the Pilot’. After we parted ways, he landed a job flying internationally for Qantas, but back when he was with me, he was a flying instructor. He always wore aviator sunglasses, whether on or off duy. His identity was totally immersed in being a pilot. He wore khakis, shirt and trousers, whether he was at work or off work.

He had the bright idea that he could get hold of a plane, borrow one, and fly up to the Whitsundays to Great Keppel Island. Some other friends were keen to join us. So on the appointed day, we arrived at the airport full of private planes. I had packed a couple of pairs of shorts, t-shirts and bikinis. It was boiling hot in Queensland in the summer.

The four seater plane was a rust bucket, and it looked liked it had sat there unused for centuries. Paint was peeling off the bodywork. The wings looked like they were going to fall off. Cobwebs and dust covered it. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find rubber bands holding the wheels on. I asked Peter if it was safe to fly. He said, “I’ll see. I’ll test it.” He had never flown the plane before.

So he jumped in the cockpit and turned the engine on. Splutter, clunk, splutter, clunk; finally, the engine burst into action. He pumped some juice through the accelerator, and he looked up with a smile and gave the thumbs up. “Good to go,” he declared. After that, I never doubted for a moment that the aircraft was airworthy. Looking back, I wonder if I was bonkers to get in that plane. I was very lucky – I possibly lacked judgment when I was smitten!

We flew up the coast of Australia. It was like being in the film Out of Africa. With windows encasing you, you had a 180 degree uninterrupted view. It was majestic. However, at one point we flew into a thunderstorm. It was terrifying, and we did, indeed, have to descend and land on a deserted airstrip in the middle of nowhere in Queensland. It was at night, so we had to sleep in the plane. It was one of the worst night’s sleep I’ve ever had, but the next morning, the sun was shining, and there was the hope of a new day. By lunchtime, we were touching down in paradise, on the island in the lower Barrier Reef.

Today, I am hosting a baby shower in London. Noone knows if the mother is expecting a girl or a boy. Whatever the outcome, the mother’s life before baby – BB – is over. Forever after baby, AB, there is another human being to consider, until they are independent, and even then, you never stop caring.

Today, it is the American presidential election. What will be the sex of the next American President? Incredible to think that a female may be in charge of the nation; we are, possibly, on the brink of ground-breaking history again.