Passengers burst into applause and cheered as flight BLE0348 touched down at Charles De Gaulle Airport, outside Paris on Monday.

Under normal circumstances, this may come across as somewhat naff but this was no ordinary flight. Ninety-three refugees had just completed the final stage of a years-long journey that started in Somalia, Sudan, Eritrea, Liberia and Iraq, a voyage fraught with danger, often beset by tragedy, across deserts, across the graveyard that the southern Mediterranean has become in tiny rickety boats. In sharp contrast, they were now flying in style.

The relocation programme was initiated in 2008 when French Ambassador Daniel Rondeau flew in a French military helicopter, forming part of the Frontex mission, on a surveillance mission south of Malta. Flying 100 metres above sea level, he saw dolphins, whales, turtles, fishermen, two empty dinghies and an old boat packed with more than 100 men, women and children. Their position was radioed to the operations centre but those people were never seen again, they never landed anywhere, were never intercepted or rescued.

Horrified by what he had seen, knowing he had become a witness to the tragedy that had befallen thousands of immigrants trying to reach European soil from Africa in search of refuge and a better life, Mr Rondeau, a writer, set about publishing articles in the French press. He explained that the issue of immigration was not a Maltese problem but a European one and drew particular attention to what was happening out at sea.

Before long, on a French initiative, the European Pact on Immigration and Asylum was agreed upon and the intra-EU Relocation from Malta pilot project set up.

The group of 71 adults and 22 children was the second to be relocated to France, the first having left Malta a year ago and, according to the ambassador, now settling in and integrating remarkably well.

Instrumental in the success of integration of both groups is the International Organisation for Migration, which provided pre-departure orientation classes and assisted refugees with boarding procedures.

The French Office of Immigration and Integration assists the refugees with their year-long integration programme.

Farewells at Malta International Airport were long, intense and often emotional. Maltese, African and Middle Eastern friends turned out to wish the 93 bon voyage. Those left behind put on a brave face, hoping that perhaps one day it would be their turn.

The refugees, many dressed in suits and fedora hats, walking through the departure gates displayed a mix of excitement, happiness and more than just a little bit of anxiety. Few, if any, had ever been on a plane before and they were all aware of the huge challenge ahead.

Several nervously clutched their travel documents as an airport coach took them to the waiting aircraft. The English and Maltese they had learnt over the years would have to be put aside and a new language learned from scratch.

One refugee taking a photo of some of his friends counted "one, two, three" before taking his picture and was good-naturedly admonished by a French Embassy official. He must now say: "Une, deux, trois".

The passengers spread themselves comfortably throughout the chartered plane. Mr Rondeau, who joined them on the flight, was almost accorded superstar status with many wanting to take their picture with him and repeatedly shake his hand or hug him.

Some took the opportunity to sleep after their in-flight meal; others gazed in wonder out of the windows, lost in thought.

Hassan Elmi Abdisamed from Somalia, travelling with his wife and eight-month-old daughter, could only describe himself as "very happy, happy, happy, hoping to live the good life!"

Abraham Abdullah Ismahil, 22, who fled his home in Darfur seven years ago, said: "I always wanted to move on to another country in Europe. I used to keep going to UNHCR asking if I could go and just now I've achieved my dream. I'm very happy."

"I want to get a better education, go to school and get a job like everyone else." His motivation is clear: his family still lives in Darfur and he hopes to be in a better position to help them.

Mohammed Adan Abdi Salan, born in 1981 in Somalia, lived in Malta for six years. Throughout that time, he begged to be allowed to bring his family, currently seeking refuge in Ethiopia, to Malta but was told it wasn't possible because the island is too small. He understood the problem and found that, by and large, the Maltese were very helpful and friendly towards refugees. So he decided to try to relocate and now knows the odds of being reunited with his family have greatly increased.

Esam Ali Ele Beyati was once a poorly paid soldier fighting in Saddam Hussein's army, serving a tyrannical regime he hated. He fled Iraq in 1995, arriving in Malta in 2002. Now, together with his five-year-old son Mohammed, he was staring in awe out of the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the French mainland through gaps in the cloud while his wife fed his other child in the seats across the aisle.

He is thrilled because now he is certain his children, born in Malta, will have a much better childhood than he had, living in a liberal democracy, not under a dictatorship. Once the plane touched down in Paris and started taxiing along the runway, many of the over-enthusiastic passengers immediately leapt to their feet and tried to retrieve their carry-on bags, much to the chagrin of the French cabin crew.

When they were finally given the go-ahead to move and the aircraft doors were opened, loud cheers and applause erupted as French Immigration Minister Eric Besson appeared in the doorway and called out: "Bienvenue en France!"

With the biggest grin imaginable, one French-speaking immigrant lifted his bag over his head and powered his way down the aisle, overwhelmed by his own enthusiasm.

A VIP reception, including several French media outlets, awaited them: speeches, drinks, food, interviews and flashing cameras.

Before long, IOM personnel were gathering the different groups who would set off for Champigny-sur-Marne, Soissons and Oissel, small towns in northern France. The new arrivals would go their separate ways, learn French, adopt the French Republic's motto of liberty, equality and fraternity as their own, taking the opportunity to build their own future.

"Take this chance and you'll be part of our common future," promised Mr Besson.