Why Propeller Planes are Pleasantly Terrifying

It was with dread we learned that our plane would be sans-jets, opting for the less efficient blender blades that would throw us towards the continent green faced and white knuckled.
Our type of plane is thoughtfully named a Bombardier, leaving the Flybe passenger to use their imagination why.

"Why did we buy this crap-heap"

 You can pull out all the nervous flyer superlative similes for rge Bombardier; steel tube coffin, ticket to hell, ad. nauseum. I've never been a nervous flyer, seeing as I've been pushed, pulled and occasionally trampled into planes since an early age, but meeting a prop for the first time brewed a strange apprehension within me.
As soon as you get over this apprehension however, it's really quite enjoyable. Whilst gazing out of the airport at our all-inclusive fun tube, fellow passengers jovially commented upon its over all safety, casually betting on how likely they were to die if, when, this vibrating cylinder should pull the classic 'screw you guys' and part ways with its wings, unleashing the windmills of death into the atmosphere.
As a sort of rite of passage, photographs were taken by each ticket holder before they boarded as if it were the first picture of a depressingly empty holiday photo album, "and this is Ma and Pa before they were transformed into milkshake by the propellers after the window swapped places with the seat".

All up in yo business.

It was all fun and games of course, apart from when taxiing the sun hit the spinning propellers creating a dizzying strobe effect that made me wish I had packed my glo-sticks after all.
The only time I did feel scared, just a little, was when roaring down the runway. I calmly speculated, with a tinge of regret, whether the last words I would have spoken would be "that's my sandwich you're eating", and whether being flung from a plane like a scrunched up paper ball aimed at a bin from the back of the classroom whilst struggling to open a BLT was a particularly bad ass way to go.

If you enjoy sky high roller coasters, ignore the metal blades whizzing behind your ear and don't mind the nerves in your feet being obliterated by the floor vibrating like a mobile phone on steroids, then I recommend giving propeller planes a go.