91Èȱ¬

It's the nightmare scenario, the pilot passes out and you are called on to land the plane, despite having absolutely no flying experience.

That's what happened to a man in the US on Tuesday.

The pilot of the Cessna 208 had been flying to Florida from the Bahamas when he told his two passengers he wasn't feeling well

An air traffic controller - who also teaches new pilots - helped guide the man down to Palm Beach International Airport.

Wow. How would I cope in that situation? I expected the closest I would come to finding out would be by talking to pilots at the Phoenix Flight Training in Cumbernauld for 91Èȱ¬ Radio Scotland.

But the instructors there had other plans.

When I arrived, they suggested we recreate that scenario - and send me up in the air. An instructor would be with me, but he would "play dead" and I would be guided in by another instructor in the tower.

I've been a plane geek since I was a boy, so I was in absolutely no position to pass up the opportunity to not just fly - but land - an aircraft.

There was just one small problem: I had no clue what I was doing.

Obviously this would just be an exercise - so my instructor would be there with me the whole time and could take over if things turned pear-shaped. He took off, and we headed towards Falkirk.

Once we were over the Falkirk wheel, the instructor next to me went quiet and let go of the controls.

Adrenaline kicked in.

I asked for assistance over the radio - with Iain in the tower reassuring me, and reminding me to stay calm.

Easier said than done.

Over the next five minutes or so, Iain guided me through the controls. Lots of buttons, levers and dials. I was essentially getting a flying lesson over distance learning.

After a few minutes that felt like hours, it was time to descend and land.

My stomach fell to the floor, my hands were gripping the controls as if my life depended on it - but with such a tough grip, every tiny movement made the tiny plane judder from side to side.

The ground seemed to come at me from nowhere. I almost forgot there was an instructor next to me, and nerves ramped up. The radio went quiet and the instructions stopped - I just had to touch the ground.

Wind didn't help matters. It was a relatively breezy day, and the slightest gust seemed to send us from left to right.

The actual touchdown felt as if it took years.

Just 25 feet to go, 15, 10, five, - they all felt minutes apart but in reality it was over in just a few seconds.

Right before I thought we would touch down, a gust came out of nowhere - and the plane lifted into the air. My baptism of fire wasn't over yet.

Back down we went, and I felt the wheels hit the tarmac. I've had worse landings at Glasgow Airport after a holiday, so I'll take that as a win.

My instructor took back the controls, and I looked at my hands. They were shivering and I wiped a single bead of sweat from my brow. I had done it.

Obviously this isn't quite the same as what our newbie pilot in Florida achieved; after all, I did have an instructor with me the whole time.

But it was still a very tall order to try and get a feel for the controls and bring the plane down safely.

My pilot's hat is well and truly tipped to them.