By Delia Gallagher

Flying with the pope -- the view from coach

A member of the Vatican press corps gives a behind-the-scenes account of traveling with Benedict to the United States

For once, I don't worry about turbulence. When the pope is on board, I figure, the plane just can't go down. And if it does, well, it's as good a way as any to go out.

The papal plane is actually a regular Alitalia 777, like one you might take on any normal trans-Atlantic flight. The pope sits up front, cardinals in the middle and journalists in the back. The only sign that this isn't your usual flight are the white linen pillows embroidered with a gold and red papal crest on every seat.

The most important moment of the trip is when the pope comes back to talk to us, usually just after takeoff. Since the pope stands at the top section of coach class, near the curtains, the coveted seats for journalists are the first rows.

But journalists' seats are unassigned, so the "hundred-yard dash" has become the infamous rite of initiation when boarding the plane. This refers to a rather unruly game of jockeying to get on board first, while weighed down with computers, cameras and carry-on bags. Warm-up for the dash begins on the airport bus that takes us out to the plane on the runway. Careful calculations are made about where to stand on the bus in order to be near the doors that will open closest to the back stairs of the plane. Will it be the front or the back, right or left? Teams are formed, with members standing at each of the doors just in case the driver decides to stop early or take a spin around and open on the right side instead of the left. Old debts are called in and pacts are sealed to save a seat.

First-timers look around nervously, unaware of what all the fuss is about. The bus arrives in front of the plane, doors open and amused Alitalia flight personnel watch the mad spectacle of 50 grown men and women rushing a plane. It makes little difference where we end up sitting, of course; everyone can hear and see the Pope when he comes back to coach class, but journalists are competitive by nature, and we can't help ourselves.

Refusing champagne

Journalists are selected by the Vatican some months before to travel on the papal plane. Most of us are part of the Vatican press corps and accompany the pope on nearly every trip abroad. Others are chosen because they work for media outlets from the country the pope is visiting. On this trip, 12 American journalists were on the plane representing: The New York Times, The Los Angeles Times, The Washington Post, Time magazine, The Associated Press, Reuters, ABC News, FOX News, The New Jersey Star Ledger, The National Catholic Reporter and Inside the Vatican magazine. In addition, there were some 50 other journalists and cameramen from Italy, England, Germany, Poland, France, Latin America and the Vatican's own newspaper, L'Osservatore Romano.

Shortly after takeoff from Rome's Fiumicino airport, a rustling of the curtains and the familiar faces of two of the Vatican's security men signaled that the pope was on his way down the aisle.

Two days before the trip, Jesuit Father Federico Lombardi, the director of the Vatican Press Office, had asked us to submit questions for the pope and told us the Vatican would select five for him to answer.

Some veteran reporters grumbled at what they called censorship, and remembered the old days of Pope John Paul II, when journalists were free to throw out spontaneous questions and the pope stayed until the last was answered.

Pope Benedict stood in front, microphone in hand. TV cameramen turned on their lights and squatted down as much as possible to allow the rest of us to see while still getting their shot. We all did our best to appear dignified while half-sitting on armrests and leaning forward in the aisles, our tape recorders at the ready. The cardinals came back to take a peek at the scene.

The pope answered questions on sex abuse, immigration and the United Nations, speaking for about 20 minutes. We spent the rest of the 10-hour flight typing out his answers and writing our reports, filed directly from the plane. Journalists are competitive, but reporting on the pope is also a team effort. Between Pope Benedict's German accent and the noise of the plane, we had to compare notes on the exact wording of some of the quotes. Every word counts with the pope, and one mistake on our part could lead to major international incidents.

The Alitalia flight attendants patiently tried to maneuver lunch carts up and down the aisles while avoiding camera equipment and journalists' computers splayed all over the table trays. We snacked on ravioli, turkey and fish skewers while typing with our heads down in our makeshift office in the skies. The tempting offers of champagne and sauvignon wine would have to wait for the return trip.

One eye open

We arrived 20 minutes early in Washington, and the plane slowed and circled in the sky, to give time for President Bush to arrive at Andrews Air Force Base.

None of us was prepared for the welcome that awaited the pope in the United States. Six days of rising at 5 a.m. to read our advance copies of the pope's speeches for the day and begin to outline our stories, then on to buses accompanied by the Secret Service to follow the pope to his various events, in between typing furiously, jumping on and off television sets to give commentary and calling in radio reports. The interest in this trip was at an all-time high, and we worked nonstop to feed the coverage.

Watching the pope at close quarters, it seemed as if he, too, was taken by the enthusiasm of the Americans. The reserved pope we had become used to spontaneously came down from the stage at several events to meet the crowd. A cheer went up even from the normally unimpressionable Vatican press corps when the pope and a young girl attempted a hug but ended up standing apart with only their foreheads touching. A new form of papal greeting was born.

At the end of the trip we were loaded back on to the plane while the pope participated in a departure ceremony with Vice President Dick Cheney in a private hangar at John F. Kennedy Airport.

When we traveled with Pope John Paul, we were always allowed to go up to the front of the plane on the way back and have our picture taken with him. Despite our best efforts, our return trip with Pope Benedict yielded no pictures.

After a generous helping of the drinks cart and a meal of lasagna, salmon and cheesecake, the cabin lights dimmed and my fellow travelers and I promptly fell asleep, with one eye open, of course -- just in case.

Delia Gallagher, a Catholic and former CNN correspondent, is a Rome-based journalist. This was her 10th papal fight.