A totally exhausting day


I didn’t get to collect the aircraft from Port Elizabeth in the end. Another instructor hitched a ride with a student doing the same cross country route as I did, and was able to retrieve it.

He must have had a very uncomfortable trip. The Cherokee Pipers that we fly do have four seats, but it’s a bit smaller inside than a two door mini. I wouldn’t like to even try and get in the back, let alone get out. Apparently they were designed for the American mass market (Mom and Dad in the front with two children in the back). The very optimistic marketing objective was that they would become like a second car - every home would have one. They are totally reliable, very easy to fly and even have a cigarette lighter and ashtray! That didn’t work – but they have still found their place – as an excellent training aircraft

I managed to do another cross country today in the opposite direction this time – to East London Airport. I did all the navigation calculations on my own, and filed the appropriate flight plans, I’m becoming quite the seasoned aviator. No trip to the tower this time, Ian’s influence only extends to Port Elizabeth it seems, but he was still greeted by the air traffic controller by name over the radio and was waved at by most of the ground crew! The friendly ‘hello’ greeting here is ‘howisit’ said very fast, as one word. To begin with I politely said ‘very good thank you’ but soon learned the correct response is ‘howisit’ back!

I landed once again on a mammoth runway to park alongside a military helicopter and a 737. The cappuccino was as good, but I didn’t get cheesecake this time! I was pleased to find that despite the impending bad weather we were able finish the return leg of the trip and bring the aircraft home. But we had to go though customs first. Ian had to get a form signed by three different people and I got searched by a very nice lady who had great difficulty understanding how I could fly an aircraft when I couldn’t walk!

It happens a lot here, complete strangers walk up to us and say ‘Shame – what happened to you’ We were polite in the beginning but now its getting boring, Paul normally says that he crashed his spitfire, Martine says that she was a lion tamer and put her legs in the Lion’s mouth instead of her head, and I say that it was a skiing accident! Doesn’t seem to make much difference what we say, they make sympathetic noises and walk on. The other comments we get (which make us really mad) are to ask where are we from! It starts the same way ‘Shame’….. then…….. ‘it’s so nice to see you all out – where are you from’ as though we are on a day trip from some institution. You should see their face when we tell them 43 Airschool - they don’t know whether to believe us or not! I’ve even had it, from a woman in the local stationary store ‘Shame…you can’t get through’ (the display isles). I left, saying under my breath ‘Shame – and I won’t be spending any money with you either!’

We had a wonderful flight back along the ‘wild coast’ to Port Alfred and I managed to take some pictures, of course they will never truly represent the stunning coastline, or the experience of seeing it all from 1,500 ft. When we landed, I had to run back to my room (metaphorically speaking of course) because we all had tickets to go to the local high school in the evening to hear a talk from Patricia Glyn a local lady who had walked across Africa to Victoria Falls.

We had bought tickets when we first arrived and were desperate to get out of the campus – any reason seemed worthwhile at that stage. The talk was arranged by the local community to raise money for a large group of abandoned horses that had been taken in by the SPCA in a terrible state. Now four weeks on, the idea of sitting is a school hall listening to some woman talk about her holiday slides, was not so exiting and we all expected to have a very boring evening. The thing is, by the time we arrive anywhere and are installed in our seats, there is no sneaking out, we always manage to make a grand entrance, and exit!

Our fears were totally unfounded, Patricia was a professional broadcaster and journalist and, with the aid of an Apple notebook and projector she took us with her on her amazing journey on foot through Africa. Her trip followed as closely as possible in her English great uncle’s footsteps. They were the fourth nineteenth century foreign party of explorers to find the ‘great cascades’ after Livingston

She used their original diaries, and timescales to recreate the journey and walked 2,200 kilometres in four and a half months. It was an awe inspiring presentation interwoven with South African history and personal reflections. She talked about the way she had faced and fought her demons along the way, and I suddenly found resonance with what she was saying.

Although not to the same epic proportions, I too have fought to overcome demons on this trip. When I got into the aircraft for my first lesson, I was terrified! It was so totally different that the few hours flying I had experienced at the little airfield in the nice flat Peterborough area. This thing bobbed about in the air, and the ground seemed a million miles away. I’ve gone through sheer panic, complete desperation when I thought I wasn’t strong enough to handle the controls, disappointment of failing my medical, sheer exhaustion after a long flight, and managed to come through it all still smiling. Now I can navigate my way cross country to a commercial airport and the bobbing is beginning to be quite fun!

I bought Patricia’s book and she signed it for me, what a great day, and how exhausted I was at the end. So much so that I cancelled, my 08.00 flight this morning and will spend the rest of the day sleeping to recharge my very emptily energy supply


You can find more about Patricia Glyns trip at (http://www.1485.org.za/patriciaglynn.html