'NO, I just can't do it.

I honestly can't . . .''

Tears tumble down Sandra's cheeks as she grips on to her husband, a twisted handkerchief

flying from her hand.

We walk past, across the blowy airport tarmac and towards the hulking beast at the centre of the panic. It's not long before two more people are crying at the sight of the aircraft.

This is no average holiday flight, otherwise I would have turned around and gone home. I have attended a Fly Without Fear course at Glasgow Airport. Around 70

phobics have come from all over the UK to face their worst nightmare. They have joined a day-long session organised by Aviatours in conjunction with British Airways. After hours of lecturing on flight statistics, the

engineering of a plane and relaxation exercises, we are at the penultimate point - a 45-minute afternoon flight in a BA-operated machine - and the adrenalin is palpable.

Those climbing the steps to the jet try desperately to calm their racing hearts. Aged from their 20s to pensioners and from a variety of backgrounds, their terror of air travel bonds them in a fearful solidarity.

Aerophobia is a mental anxiety which is one of the fastest-growing phobias of our time. To some degree, it affects more than half the population, and one in 10 people are so scared they avoid flying altogether. Far from aerophobes being born with their problem, most find it creeping over them after being regular flyers.

Aerophobe Dave Seamore, 32, a rather macho HGV driver who hates not being in control when the plane is in the air, has driven from Newcastle to attend the course. ''My girlfriend is a sun freak and totally fed up with me,'' he sighs. ''Before a flight I get tense and irritable. If we do get away, I dread coming back all

holiday. I've tried drinking to block out the panic, but nothing works.''

Classmate Claire Nicol, 22, a

midwife from Perth had, I noticed, cringed at a projector image of a jet in flight. ''I fly fairly regularly but I hate it,'' she says. ''I sweat, shake and cling to the arm rests to feel secure.''

I take my seat on the Aviatour's flight feeling a bit like a charlatan,

harbouring no more anxiety than the usual dislike of turbulence - uncomfortable, not dangerous - as the course mantra goes. Incredibly, and to the credit of staff, I see Sandra has been coaxed on board. She's deathly white but stares fixedly at a book on her lap, desperate little tears rolling to the end of her nose.

The phobics are, one by one,

comforted by members of the team - a psychologist, a counsellor and air crew - who are led by the appropriately-named Captain Steve Allright. An experienced British Airways pilot, he will talk us through every bump and jostle and even, he assures, encourage us to look out the window.

''Yeah, right,'' whispers a sceptic behind me. Someone else repeats the statistics we learned earlier. ''I'm 18 times more likely to die in my own home,'' she says out loud.

Meanwhile, our psychologist, Patricia Furness-Smith, encourages us to make tension-relieving piranha faces (lower jaw jutting out beyond upper lip). The engines roar into life. Everyone that had previously tittered at the piranha idea suddenly juts and snaps the air in earnest.

Before our flight, Furness-Smith tells me she used to be an air hostess and developed aerophobia herself after suffering a health scare. She uses cognitive behavioural therapy on the clients to reduce irrational emotions and fears by changing ingrained behaviours, giving sufferers realistic goals and encouraging some positive thinking. ''No-one is immune to aerophobia,'' she says.

''Aerophobia is very complex - a Rolls-Royce of phobias, in fact. It is often made up of many elements. Agarophobia, claustrophobia, social phobia and a fear of heights can be involved. Flying feels alien and threatening to suffers, and they panic. You can often trace the trigger back to an anxious or traumatic time like a job loss, marriage break-up, bereavement or health worry.''

This seemed to be backed up when I spoke to class members over lunch. Sandra suffered a bereavement years ago and became so uptight, she wouldn't even drive. Fiona couldn't fly after having children in case her daughters were left motherless. Iain experienced an emergency landing on a trip away (he admits this was utterly undramatic) but has been frozen with anxiety ever since.

Course counsellor and Allright's wife, Donna, tells me later that facing aerophobia can cause people to

re-examine aspects of their lives they had bottled up. ''We sometimes find people are crying about things other than air travel,'' she says.

As Glasgow Airport reappears, it's clear we've survived. People whoop in delight and I find myself clapping and cheering too as we touch down safely. Bernard from Belfast has made his first flight in years. A

middle-aged man, paralysed with fear throughout, realises he's conquered the unthinkable.

Sandra hugs her husband on the tarmac, overjoyed. She tells me they are going to book their first trip abroad in their 21 years of marriage.

''Everyone got further than they imagined,'' says Allright. ''It has been a major achievement and they will hopefully take the coping tools they've learned today to build on that.''

The next Glasgow

Aviatours course takes

place October 9, 2004. Lunch and refreshments are included in the price

of (pounds) 209 (including VAT) and a flight-only option is also available. For further information, contact Aviatours

on 01252 793 250.

DON'T PANIC! hOW TO BEAT FLIGHT FEAR

l Flying is an unusual experience. The sensations you are feeling

are normal and safe.

l Turbulence is uncomfortable,

but not dangerous.

l Monitor your breathing, making

the pattern slow and deep.

l Look at the cabin crew. They

are relaxed - you should be, too.

l Try to do normal things like going to the loo or looking out the window.

l Congratulate yourself on how far you have come - don't worry about how far you have to go.

l At the end of your flight, write down how it was, not what you think it should have been like. Highlight what helped and what you need

to work on next time.