My last week

We were told that whilst the first few weeks would drag a little, the last weeks of our time here would fly by, and that’s certainly been the case. After our trip to the game park, a change in the weather, for the better this time, meant that I was able to get nearly three hours flying a day. (Trust the sun to start shinning the week before were due to leave). I still had to achieve an unaided landing, which has become a bit of a mission for poor Ian, my instructor, so we spent Monday flying circuits. I wrote everything on a piece of paper, including my radio calls, and tried to memorise the procedures one by one.

Tuesday was lovely and sunny but extremely windy and Ian thought it would be a good time to practice my emergency landings. We took a short cross country trip through some very strong head winds, to Granhamstown, about half an hour away. The ride was very bumpy but I was amazed to find that I quite enjoyed it, ......five weeks ago it would have terrified me, but now the ride was really quite jolly. I think if I can get used to being thrown about in a land cruiser and a bumpy aircraft, next year I’ll be ready for the rides at Disney World.


Riding round in circles gets pretty boring after a while so on Wednesday I took another trip to Port Elizabeth to finish of f the cross country I started two weeks ago. I don’t think I will ever get used to the stunning coastline, miles and miles of unspoilt sandy beaches and emerald green hills. On the trip out I flew at 800 feet along the coast and managed to find some Whales swimming not too far of shore.

I stopped for the (by now) traditional cappuccino and cheesecake in the airport café and headed for home. The same route back took us over a coastline swathed in low lying mist that made everything look strangely eerie.



As usual, the trip totally exhausted me and I went to bed saying that I couldn’t possible do anymore flying, and vowing that I was going to rest up for the next two days ready for the long journey home. Next morning it was a beautiful clear day and, after a good 12 hours of sleep I climbed into my flying suit once more to have another go a trying to make a perfect landing. Well, two out of the five were good ones and I was very happy to have overcome the last big hurdle of my adventure

I had a great surprise at lunchtime when I got POST, it took be back to my boarding school days. How exciting to get a package – Susan had sent me some books and a card and lovely picture drawn by my grandson Benjamin. It was such a treat, and made me realise that email is a great way to communicate, but a letter in an envelope with a stamp on is something really special.

The weather held all afternoon and I chose Grahamstown for the final flight of the trip. I had decided not to fly on Friday because I wanted to rest up and pack ready for our homeward journey the next day. I was sad to say goodbuy to this beautiful country, but eager to start getting ready for home. I managed another passable landing and made my way over the hills back to Port Alfred for the last time. I’m totally convinced that flying is the only way to see this beautiful country and I have been incredibly privileged to be given the opportunity to do it.

Now its Friday and my bags are packed. The catering staff organised a BBQ for us, our new friends and our instructors. Lots of good food – good wine and good company made for a great send of. Its sad to say goodbuy, knowing that in a very short time my trip will be just a memory. It seemed such a long time to spend here when we first arrived and now its over, gone in a flash of extrardinary experiences. I came to fly in South Africa and that’s just what I did, and I’m left with this nagging question in the back of my mind…….What’s next?

My days out the Game Parks

I don’t think any trip to South Africa would be complete without a trip to a game park. It’s always been on my list of things I’d like to do and I’m pleased to say that I was not disappointed. I have been privileged to go on two wonderful drives this trip. The first, last Sunday, we organised ourselves with the help of the local tourist information office. Kariega Game Reserve is a private reserve, quite local to the school.

We spent the day in what I think is called a ‘land cruiser’ a sort of open topped Land Rover with 10 seats –. It was driven by Judy, a young slip of a girl who came from England. Typical, I come all this way to South Africa game reserve to be driven by someone from Bournemouth!

It was a good day to visit the park because the weather, as usual was overcast, and there were few tourists. We were well wrapped up, so didn’t mind the cold too much, and, I know this is very British, but I think we were all quite grateful that it wasn’t so hot. Sitting in the bus in full sun would not have been at all pleasant. The first half of the journey was quite sedate – we saw water buffalo and zebra, waterbuck, Ostrich and several different types of buck. Then we were given a choice – either we could carry on at a sedate pace and see the rest of the east side of the park – or drive like a bat out of hell to see if we could find the Lions and the Elephants.

The was no choice – it had to be the Lions. So we set out on a theme park type ride of epic proportions. As we slipped and slid up and down mud trails, off road and through streams, Judy drove the bus as though it was a racing car. She had a great time and laughed, at the sight of me, grim faced, holding on so tight to the roll bar in front of me, that I lost all feeling in my fingers. We were so high up we were drenched as we drove through rain clouds but finally, after what seemed to be at least 3 hours, we turned a corner to find a lone bull Elephant grazing in a valley. He took absolutely no notice of a very muddy bus of spellbound, wet and windswept tourists, as we took, copious photographs, our cameras destroying the total silence with their electronic beeps.

We left the Elephant to his solitude and headed over more muddy paths to find the Lionesses. Luckily they had been spotted earlier in the day by another game warden and we were able to find them sitting in a patch of buttercups relaxing in the warm sunshine that had managed to fight its way through the clouds at just the right moment. What struck me was how like my own cats they were (or is that the other way around). Sitting cleaning themselves, totally relaxed in this beautiful setting, they could have been my two at home, sitting on the sofa in front of the fire. They were so totally different that than their cousins locked up in the Zoos back home.

Our Trip to Adowa the next week was much more relaxed thank goodness. Although pleased to have the experience of the game drive, I don’t think anyone wanted to repeat the experience. One of the Cadets Ralph, drove us in the nice warm and dry school bus. The game park was quite near Port Elizabeth, about an hour and a half away, and was famous for its Elephants as well as the other ‘big five’ animals. Adowa has the most incredible scenery, great rolling green hills and wide flat valleys and what bliss – proper tarmac roads. Once again we saw assorted varieties of buck, Kudu, Zebra and Warthogs, that were cheeky little characters who ran and jumped by the side of the road as we passed. We saw Monkeys playing in the trees, Wildbeest and a whole troop of Elephants. It was another wonderful day, this time the weather was kind to us and we were able to enjoy the experience of being in the most beautiful country in the world.

The game park also housed an excellent restaurant where I ate Kudu, which I’m ashamed to say tasted wonderful, and thank goodness, at last, a gift shop. The one thing that this trip to SA had lacked so far, was any decent shopping experiences. The local Pick and Pay supermarket at Port Alfred just didn’t provide the right ingredients for tourist shopping. Martine, Kath and I hit the gift shop like a swarm of Locusts – We got back to the bus a half hour later, happily loading our brown paper bags on top of the various medical aids that travel with us wherever we go.

Originally I was disappointed that both trips were scheduled to be on Sundays, and that I would miss my trips to church which I so enjoyed. But I really think there is no better way to worship the Lord that to spend a day experiencing his wonderful creation.

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

Some Pictures from my trip

I’ve had an excellent day today. We flew cross country to Port Elizabeth, the main commercial airport where we arrived on our BA flight almost five weeks ago. I landed the aircraft on a mamouth runway – the one the 747s use. It was so long that I spent the next 10 mins taxing to the end! My instructor Ian is a retired commercial pilot – a captain no less, he was able to organise a lovely lady to meet us with a wheelchair, and take us to the control tower to see all the radar equipment. I watched the screen as a 747 came in to land and another took off. It reminded me of the Bruce Willis film, the one where he had to save the entire airport from a terrible disaster. Only this time there was just Nicholas, the air traffic controller, to guide everyone in, - and a HUGE computer.

The trip started uneventfully, I plotted the headings on a map and calculated the effects the wind would have on our journey. My calculations were spot on; first we made a short trip to an unmanned airport about 50 miles inland from the air school; after a quick landing practice, we took off again towards Port Elizabeth (PA as we locals call it). It took us just over an hour to travel the 80 miles, over some of the most incredible scenery - hills and valleys of rich green vegetation, with the occasional tiny road or river that looked like tiny veins dissecting the countryside.

During our trip the weather took turn for the worst and we had to lose height so that we could fly under the clouds. Even though we now had a really good view of the ground, it was very difficult to be sure that we were going in the right direction, one green mountain looks very much like another when seen from above!. Thank goodness my calculations were correct and we were right on course to PA.

It was great to be flying the aircraft to a proper destination. I’ve spent weeks practicing manoeuvres and it was a treat to put it all into practice. God did me a big favour when I failed the medical. Not having to pass any tests and get all the relevant performance criteria ‘ticked’ has meant that I have been able to relax and have some fun. And what a great feeling it is to be flying over this beautiful unspoilt countryside – and doing most of it on my own. I keep having to pinch myself to make sure this is real!

As we arrived at PA the tower informed us that fog had closed the air school’s runways and we had to wait for further instructions. By the time we had finished at the control tower there was no hope of flying home. I was already flexing my credit cards in anticipation of finding a nice warm hotel with a hot bath and room service as Ian went off to find a suitable long term parking space for our little plane. I found the airport coffee shop and settled down to enjoy a large café latté. I got some very funny looks, sitting there in my navy blue flying suite clutching my crutches – I think people thought I had escaped from some institution! When he returned with the news that the school was sending a car for us, so no hotel for me, but I did manage a large glass of red wine before our driver arrived.

The best part of this adventure is that I get to repeat it tomorrow – weather permitting we plan to fly down to PA with another crew and bring the abandoned aircraft home. This time we will fly along the costal route and I might get to see some Whales.

african workers

Sights and sounds from the picket line

Excitement at 43 air school!

On Wednesday evening we were amazed to hear what we sounded like a very lively Afirican choir, singing outside our living quarters. On further investigation we found that it was the entire domestic staff singing at the top of their voices and dancing as they marched out on strike!

Despite their exuberance, the staff feel overworked and underpaid and have been insulted by the current 8% pay offer. The school has grown by over a third within less than a year, with no reciprocal increase in staff, and an inflation rate of over 10%, the pay offeris just not enough.

The management's position is that the strikers are ungrateful malcontents who do not appreciate how well they are looked after. They have jobs, unlike the majority of the people in this area, they are paid above the going rate and are given medical insurance.

The workforce have immediately been replaced with another army of blue uniformed staff, who seem willing, and able, to take their jobs. The union are asking for 30%, which of course the management have rejected. Sounds a familiar story, however the social situation here is incredibly sensitive


Port Alfred town is based around a marina framed by exclusive holiday homes which seem to be empty for 9 months of the year. In the surrounding countryside are the ‘townships’ where a very large black population live in terrible poverty. This is where the domestic staff live and I guess they are the lucky ones because they have jobs that probably support their entire families.


An article in the local paper recently quoted employment statistics showing that 47% of SA population have an income of less than 1000 Rand (about £90) a month and 25% of the population earn less that 500 Rand a month. So it’s more than likely that these staff, as domestics, have earnings in the lower bracket. That means entire families are pushed into terrible circumstances when inflation rises, and the strikers really need the extra money to make ends meet. They must have been pushed to extraordinary levels to even think about industrial action, the potential loss of income will be devastating

My feelings towards the substitute workforce are terribly mixed. At home Iwould think twice about dealing with people who took over a striker’s job, should I let them clean my room, eat the food they cook, or clear my plates in the canteen? On the other hand if I do it myself, I’m just as guilty as they are. And of course they are probably recruited from the huge pool of unemployed – so the money they earn goes to help another impoverished family.

The strikers picket the school gates all day, signing and dancing their versions of ‘ we shall overcome’ and treating us to a constant background cacophony of African music. Some of the songs are not all as pleasant as they sound though, the lyrics are ment to intimidate the workers who have taken their jobs. I wanted to go down and take some photographs, but the school does not want anyone to show them any attention, so I had to make do with taking the bus into town so that I could surreptitiously take pictures on they journey back. They are certainly the most energetic strikers I have ever seen – but I fear they have a very long hard journey ahead.

Flying at Last

Thankfully the weather has been kinder to us this week and we have been able to make a good stab at catching up with our flying hours. Unlike most other scholars, I wasn’t looking forward to my ‘spinning’ lesson. I thought stalling was bad enough, but spinning nose down towards the earth at a frightening speed, made the stalling experience seem like a walk in the park!! Incredibly I survived and have spent the last few days doing ‘touch and go circuits’ and having great fun.

The runways needed time to dry out so we went to another airfield about 20 mins from here and practiced taking off – flying in a square - and touching the wheels back on the runway before taking off again. The first time I swear I didn’t breath for the first half hour – and my throat was completely dry, not only do you have to remember all the flight controls, and make radio announcements but also have to keep a keen eye out for other students doing the same thing. The idea is that you keep doing circuits until the instructor feels can do them on your own and then fly solo. Today was my third lesson and now I am much calmer about the whole experience. A few more hours and I shall be able to cope without instruction. I can already manage to take off – but my landings are still a bit wobbly. I also managed to navigatetoo and from the airfield without getting lost. I wish it was that easy in a car.

On Saturday Kath wanted to celebrate a wonderful milestone. It was the 10th anniversary of her surgery to have a tumour removed from her spine and despite predictions to the contrary, it has not come back. We organised a chocolate cake and 10 candles for lunch and went out to a French Restaurant in the evening with some of the other students. We had a great time, and I ate springbok – which tasted like a cross between veal and lamb, and crocodile, which was very fishy and had a strange texture. I don’t think I would order either one again, but I’m glad I tried them.

Ground school has been very interesting, we have learnt about navigation, how to plan a flight and how an engine works. I always knew that a car (and plane) used an ‘internal combustion engine’ but didn’t know that the term for steam engines was an ‘external combustion engine’. (There is a point to this story) I also found out that the first cars used steam engines – the first, the ‘Stanley Steamer’ I have seen. In the lobby of the Stanley Hotel in Colorado where I was married.

We are studying Meteorology this week, and today I finally understood why the water went round the wrong way down the plughole in the sink!! I also learnt some really bad news, that behind every warm front that arrives at Port Alfred, a cold front is waiting to bring us more wet and windy weather. And I came to South Africa thinking it would be sunny!

The big news of the day is that Paul, another FSD scholar took his solo flight this morning. It was kept very quiet, he only knew himself when his instructor told him to land and got out! We were studying in our bedrooms and got the news from the cook (how he knew is a mystery) so we made a mad dash, grabbing our cameras to see him land. There were lots of congratulations, big smiles and photo opportunities. The tradition is that after a first solo flight the candidate is carried over to the pool, and they are not allowed to touch the ground until they get a ducking. I have never seen him with such a huge smile. It made me realise what a wonderful thing the FDS charity is.

We all celebrated in the Bar tonight - and Paul, even after struggling out of a very wet flying suite still had his smile.

He is the first one of us to achieve a solo flight, we think that Kath will be next, Martine has still to be cleared medically and I have already been turned down. The whole event made me realise what a narrow escape I had. Not being able to fly solo means no ducking in the freezing cold pool – what a shame ( I don’t think!!)


I am really enjoying my experience; it’s so totally different than anything I have ever done before. When I found out three years ago that I had this illness, I thought that my foreseeable future would be very bleak, now look at me – I’m flying an aircraft in South Africa. Never in my wildest dreams would I have predicted this future.

Although, I do appreciate that my happiness is at the expense of my family, who I miss dreadfully. My husband and I talk every night but I know he hates being on his own and my Grandson started school on Monday for the first time. I am beginning to feel a very long way from home. I think I will be extremely glad to get back to them, and to central heating, windows without drafts and my husband’s wonderful cooking.

But before that I want to learn how to land, fly cross country and get to see something of this beautiful country.

Paul's solo flight

43rd airschool, Port Alfred, South Africa. FSD scholar Paul completes his first solo flight and gets a traditional ducking in the swimming pool.