I’m not sure where all the excitement stems from but maybe, just maybe there’s a grain of truth here somewhere.And even though I’m writing this from the perspective of someone who’s lived in France for the past 3 years - and also from the point of view of being married to one of these fascinating creatures, I promise I won’t be too biased, ok?What's more, when waiting to board, you attempt the breathing exercises you've been told will help you combat your fear of flying. So you sit down, shut up and strap on your safety belt.

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Often stereotyped in what the French man is supposed to be like, there are a number of myths I’d like to examine under No airport stress Imagine not having to arrive 2-3 hours early, wait in long cues, go through the check-in procedure and the security checks, take off your shoes and empty all your liquids and gels, not to mention other embarrassing personal belongings into a box?

No unpacking your things, random searches, turbulence etc? Eventually, when you do take off, your pulse races, your palms are sweaty, you need to pee because you're nervous but you can't because the stewards' trolley is blocking the aisle. the trolley's gone, but no, you hear a 'ding' followed by an irritating voice announcing you're about to land.

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There was something about the tunes, the sound of the language perhaps, that seemed to bypass the rational self and leap at the heart.