I always feel like an idiot every time I fly first class because I’m a kid. And I just sit there, and everyone’s got their newspapers and they’re on the computer, and I’m like, ‘Can I get a colouring book, please? Can I get some crayons?
I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. It’s hard to put into words, but I guess it’s like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling.