Illness on board Google One

In the middle of the night, as we glide over the European continent on our way to the Meditarrenean Sea, Lindsay suddenly starts to feel terribly ill.

She drops her Martini glass and it falls with a hard cling to the floor in the cabin.

Before I know it, she vomits all over the seat, and she is starting to shiver. I quickly google her symptoms. We call on copilot Stephen, who trained to be a medic in the Gulf War but never passed the exams, and he quickly agrees with Google that she is suffering from acute food poisoning.

- She needs a doctor. Pretty darn fast, he says, being Texan and all.

- But where are we? All I can see is the moon, I state. Nervously.

We check on Gooogle Earth, and find that we are soon to be passing over the French city of Montluçon.

- We will pass over the city centre and the Centre Hospitalier Montluçon in just a few minutes, Stephen concludes.

- You will have to jump out. No time to land, Stephen says in a stern voice.

- Jump? Lindsay shrieks.

- Jump, Stephen repeats. He quickly returns with two parachutes, and there is no time to protest. He starts to buckle us up in small, weird rucksacks. And the truth dawns on me:

Here I am, third day on my trip around the globe, parachuting over a french village with a food poisoned Hollywood-star. Why couldn't I just have kept my mouth shut.