But parents who ignored a screaming child ruined the flight for everyone

Armed with a good book, my favourite music on my iPod and trusty inflatable pillow, I was all set.

The journey from London to Perth, via Dubai, to see my elderly parents takes almost 20 hours, so I'd planned it down to the last detail, hoping for a smooth ride.

In what seemed like an unbelievable stroke of luck, I was told the flight was full and I would be turning left on the plane into Business Class until Dubai. Bliss. I now had six hours and 50 minutes of preposterous pampering and free champagne ahead of me.

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Two hours into the flight and the screaming had not abated. By now Amanda was worried

Little did I realise that even before we were allowed to take our seatbelts off, I would be begging to move down to Economy. Why? Because of the unbearably selfish behaviour of two middle-class parents whose blinkered determination to ignore a screaming child would ruin the flight for everyone.

No sooner had the Airbus taken off than a high-pitched shriek, even louder than the jet engines, emerged from two rows behind me.

We're not talking the plaintive cries of a toddler whose ears hurt as the plane pushes through the clouds - any reasonable flyer can understand how miserable that must be for both young child and parent. No, we're talking primal scream.

A little boy, aged somewhere between two and three, was writhing around in his huge business-class seat, emitting a noise the likes of which I'd never heard before. What's more, it didn't stop. When the in-flight movies started, even the noise-cancelling earphones couldn't block it out.

The young child's father was sitting next to him, but appeared to be entirely unable to calm him. Meanwhile, his mother was nowhere to be seen.

Barely half-an-hour into the flight and the businessmen and women trying to work slapped their laptop covers down in despair and disgust. Other passengers, attempting to sleep, doubled up on extra-large earplugs and headphones, to little effect. The beleaguered flight attendants clearly thought they were about to have a riot on their hands.

Amanda notes that it's not all parents who are so selfish, nor indeed all children who are a nightmare

Something had to give. In the end, it was the toddler's seatbelt. He sprang free and ran around the cabin screaming, before zooming straight into First Class and, as it turned out, his mother's arms.

We were all relieved. Surely some gentle, maternal love and soothing would mean peace and quiet for the rest of us? But no. This woman picked up her writhing, shrieking child and unceremoniously deposited him with Dad before heading back to her First-Class seat.

Two hours into the flight and the screaming had not abated. By now I was worried. The behaviour was so extreme I went up to the father and asked if there was something seriously wrong with his child. Was he ill? Was there a doctor on-board?

'No, he's just expressive,' Dad said proudly. 'We're just letting him be his own person.'

It was jaw-dropping arrogance. But sadly, he's not alone. Now the holiday season is here, a whole army of yummy mummies and doting daddies will be forcing their screaming children on the rest of us. And they could be in the seat next to you. Worse, a flight attendant on the plane told me that it is becoming increasingly normal for affluent parents to book seats in different parts of the plane, so at least one parent gets a rest.

The usual trick is for mum and dad to be in Business Class while the screaming kids travel Economy with the nanny.

Major airlines have been urged for years by travellers to consider either child-free flights, or at least adults-only seating zones to give travellers a more peaceful journey.

A survey last year found that 70 per cent of British passengers want child-free areas introduced on planes. More than a third of us would pay extra to travel on a completely childless service. But only a handful of airlines - mostly in Asia - listen.

Malaysia Airlines now bans babies from its First-Class section and children under 12 are not allowed to travel in the upper deck economy area of its A380 planes.

Many of us have experienced interminable scream-filled flights when we wished we'd packed a parachute in our hand luggage. The selfishness of some parents is breathtaking

Meanwhile, Air Asia X and Scoot Airlines (part of Singapore Airlines) also have child-free zones - but at a cost.

Of course, it's not all parents who are so selfish, nor indeed all children who are a nightmare.

On my many travels I've come across wonderful mums and dads who are considerate of others, rocking their children, planning ahead and playing games with them, their favourite cuddly toy always on-hand.

But similarly, many of us have experienced interminable scream-filled flights when we wished we'd packed a parachute in our hand luggage.

The selfishness of some parents is breathtaking. One look at Mumsnet and their top ten tips for flying with children reveals the contempt in which many yummy mummies hold other people.

After some fairly sensible and considerate advice (ask for a bassinet, take your buggy to the gate), tip nine is the giveaway: 'Keep things in perspective. Remember it's for a relatively short space of time and if your DC (darling children) kick off you will never see the other passengers again.'

The moral is that it's okay for your uncontrollable child to ruin the start of someone else's holiday because they're only strangers after all and don't count.

Yet you have to wonder, why do these parents bother? What infant really likes being uprooted from their normal routine, taken on a long journey, put into a pressurised cabin for hours on end and deposited in a strange hotel or villa only to spend hours lying in a crib in the sun?

Malaysia Airlines now bans babies from its First-Class section (file photo)

What child under four can even remember their holidays? Do they really relish turning into little boiled shrimps by the poolside, eating exotic food, sleeping in an unfamiliar bed while their doting parents consume their body weight in rose?

No, it's not about the children. It's about social prestige; middle-class mummy one-upmanship, being able to say at the school gates: 'Darling, we're so bored with Tuscany, it's Dubrovnik for us this year.'

Sensible families are more realistic. I have one friend who, despite being well-off, insists on taking her two young children on a caravan trip to Devon each year.

It's not her dream break, but her children adore playing on the beach, even when it rains.

Besides, she didn't want them to grow up thinking life was all about flash hotels and sunshine resorts. She wanted them to realise that some of the most precious things in life could be found in your own back yard.

What's more, she didn't want to subject her young children to a long plane journey. Bad for them, and bad for everyone else.

Another girlfriend had a no-flight policy for family holidays when her children were small, to preserve her own sanity as much as that of her kids.

They'd drive to their favourite rented farmhouse in France, singing along to old Abba songs.

Their family holidays reminded me of my own. As small children, each year we would travel by car to Poplar Park in Suffolk and stay in Grandpa's tiny fixed caravan. No five stars there, except the ones Dad saw when he hit his head on the low, wooden beams.

No TV, no iPads, no texting. We'd swim, surf, fish, play and loved every minute of it, falling exhausted into our holiday bunk bed each night.

Part of the joy for our small minds was knowing each year where we were going, the familiarity of it all. For my brothers and I, that continuity was a precious thread though our childhood.

Even though the journey took several hours - the same time as it takes to get to most European destinations today - there was not a temper tantrum among us.

My mother would have died with shame if any one of us had ever behaved as that toddler did on my flight.