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Byline: Eve Conant
I'm not the anxious type-I remain calm whether I'm reporting in a war zone or getting a bikini wax. And yet my typically unflappable ways were tested a few months ago as my plane made its approach into Moscow. The pilot announced that, for no specified reason, we would be forced back into the gray and curdling sky. Any questions addressed to our suddenly very spooked-looking cabin crew were rebuffed. Hunched in the back (my preferred spot: Planes don't back up into mountains), I overheard the crew discussing our apparent need for a longer landing strip. It was clear something was wrong. Very wrong.
Some passengers tried to conquer ...