On a flight, last February, from Atlanta to Rio. We went through a storm and I was convinced that the plane was going down. The overhead cabins were opening, everything was falling out, people were screaming and I was hanging on to my seat.

Scuba diving in Costa Rica. My stunt double and I were trying out some equipment that let us talk to each other and I ran out of air at 80ft - probably because I talked too much. I had to use his air. Then we were surrounded by sharks. It was scary.

We were doing a tour in Japan and as our plane landed, it rose again, out of the blue. About 10 years later there was this programme about 10 of the nearest misses, and it was my flight. There was another plane on the runway and we nearly landed on top of it. I didn’t know until 10 years later.

My parents died within four days of each other. I was engulfed as I ran from one bedside to another.

I haven’t achieved anything of note yet.

When you can barely stand to look at someone without turning away to catch your breath.

Artists who do their own thing, without compromise: Ken Loach, Bob Dylan and James Kelman.

There’s been the odd beauty on the dance floor I really ought to have gone home with.

Happiness is mostly intrinsic: you’re either a happy soul or a miserable bastard. Fortunately, I’m the former.

Laying down slabs for the council.