Reaching for the sky

2006-12-23T19:33:00.000Z

Epilogue

I had to leave it a while before writing this last entry in my diary. I wanted to write a ‘epilogue' but there were so many positive things that happened to me over the 6 weeks I couldn’t get my thoughts in any order.

3 months on and I am still in awe at the whole experience. How many times do I have to write amazing, incredible, wonderful, extraordinary, and thrilling in order to convey my feelings?

I went back to work the day after returning from Sough Africa. Unlike those dreadful long hall flights to the US, the trip was free from jetlag and the resulting horrible three days of sleep deprivation. I spent the first week telling flying stories and being congratulated on my healthy appearance. I was very surprised to find there was a much wider audience to my blog that I had anticipated – family and close friends I could understand, but their family and their friends were also caught up in my excellent adventures.

If I had to pick three of the many positive outcomes from the trip, they would be:

1) Proving the doctors wrong! Three years ago they predicted a very grim, short future for me, and for a while I sat down and waited for it to happen. I saw the scholarship as my swan song – let me just do this before I die and I will be happy. Now - having, for the first time in my life, achieved something so amazing – I want to do more. I had such a good time, I found my optimism again – and my smile - and this time the doctors are not going to take them away from me.

2) Taking back my independence. When we arrived at 43 airschool we were given our little rooms and left to our own resources. The staff were incredibly kind and thoughtful, and although most of the day to day chores were provided, the every day business of managing our disabilities was our own responsibility. Of course, the challenges were different for all of us. In my case, for the first time in three years there was no one telling me to ‘rest’ ‘sit still’ or the all too familiar ‘I’ll do that’. There were no no recriminations – if you hadn’t done so much yesterday…………..’

I learned how to ‘pace my race’ and how to manage my own tiredness, if I overdid it, then the next day I would rest. I learnt to identify my own limits – and pushed them all the time – Two hours flying and two hours flight school was exhausting but it was my choice to do it – and my choice to have a rest day when I needed it. One of the first things I did when I got home was to ban those phrases in my house. It was difficult, because I know that my family love me and are frightened at the possibility of loosing me, but they respected my wishes and I am left to organise my time as I wish. Of course my husband still cooks me fabulous meals, ( there are some things I am happy to delegate) but now he only raises his eyes and gives ‘I told you so’ nods when I overdo things. I can make my own choices, and have to live with the inevitable exhausting consequences from time to time

3) And then there was the Flying…………I did it – I FLEW AN AEROPLANE IN SOUTH AFRICA. What an astounding experience. When I got into the tiny aircraft on the first day, I was terrified there were butterflies having a riot in my stomach . Thoughts like ‘what have I done’ and ‘whatever made me think I could do this’ went through my mind. Six weeks on the butterflies are still there – they are just flying in formation now! For the first time in my life I have overcome something that totally terrified me; it has not only given me a sense of achievement but the confidence to try other new things. When I found out I was going to die – I put money away to pay for my funeral expenses – now I’m going to use it for more flying lessons. It took a while for me to realise what a huge turnaround in my thinking that decision symbolised.

Thank you FSD for giving me back my life

Flying update…………

I have flown three times since I got back, and finally cracked the landing thing. I managed three unaided landings in my last lesson. My instructor thinks I’m almost ready to go solo, but unfortunately I am still not able to get medical clearance for the licence.

2006-09-22T21:46:00.000+01:00

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?

2006-09-18T09:49:00.000+01:00

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.

2006-09-14T19:36:00.000+01:00

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

2006-09-13T21:01:00.000+01:00

Some Pictures from my trip

2006-09-12T22:30:00.000+01:00

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

2006-09-10T08:09:00.000+01:00


Sights and sounds from the picket line

2006-09-07T21:50:00.000+01:00

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.

2006-09-05T21:06:00.000+01:00

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

2006-09-05T19:49:00.000+01:00


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

2006-08-29T19:07:00.000+01:00

I went to church on Sunday as planned, it was a bit of a struggle after our evening out the night before but I was glad I made the effort. The rain and wind had finally calmed down and it was a lovely warm morning with a bright blue cloudless sky. The church is quite old and in the most beautiful setting on a hill overlooking the ocean. In the front garden a huge red bottle brush tree in full flower and a purple Bougainvillea tumbled over the wooden arched entrance gate.

Some pictures I took on saturday of our windswept beach

The service reminded me of my school days, we sang lots of hymns and read the psalms. People were very friendly and were pleased that I had come all the way from England to visit their little church. While I was there I did mention to God that we only had four weeks to go, and some nice weather would be appreciated. Thank goodness he was listening and the most beautiful flying weather appeared on Monday morning. Although I wasn’t able to fly at 07.00 as planned, because the runways still needed time dry out, I was able to witness the most stunning sunrise.

With the beautiful weather came the bad news that I had failed my South African medical and would not be getting my student licence. This meant that I will not be able to fly solo while I’m here. I thought I took the news quite well from Buck, the College Registrar but when he left, in the privacy of my own room, I must admit I was extremely disappointed. I could of course understand their point of view, my condition isn’t stable and even I have begun to question whether I have stamina needed to fly an aircraft on my own. I still felt sorry for myself for about 10 mins –

Then I realised that the experience of flying was much more than a piece of paper, and if an instructure had to sit with me and read a book while I flew, so be it. Many FSD scholars have experienced similar medical problems. They were able to finish their PPL in England quite easily so I made a new plan, took a deep breath and went out into the sunshine.

The positive thing about the news was that I could now concentrate on learning to fly without the pressure of getting in the allotted hours needed for my licence, or passing all the exams. In a way it was a relief, the bad weather has meant that I have only 8 hours flying time so far and need to get another 32 within the next 4 weeks. With the changeable nature of the weather systems, even with help from above, it would probably mean taking 2 flights a day for most of the time we have left. Quite honestly that workload, together with the ground school is probably beyond me.

Once I had given myself a good talking to, I began to feel as though a big weight had been lifted of my shoulders, and I don’t think is was a co-incidence that my afternoon lesson went really well. For the first time I managed to co-ordinate all the controls, took off (mostly) by myself and had a wonderful flight over the most amazing coastline. I think my instructor was as surprised as I was at the improvement, and I think it was entirely due to the fact that I had relaxed.

The experience of being able to fly an aircraft is quite unique, couple that with flying over the most incredible countryside, sandy beaches and unspoilt coastline – I’m going to savour every minute, a piece of paper is not going to stop me getting the most out of my time here – or completing the challenge in my own time.

A birds eye view of Port Alfred in the early evening

2006-08-25T21:29:00.000+01:00

Two weeks gone already!!

I’ve managed to get a few hours flying this week, but the weather has been terrible. There are Herons and ducks on the lakes that used to be the grass runways. Last night it rained so hard that I had to move to the other bed in my room in the middle of the night because the roof was leaking! This morning the canteen was totally flooded. We went into breakfast to find all the staff in bare feet trying to sweep away the water!

I

I had a few hours flying this week and learnt how to stall the plane (deliberately) and how to recover, which is quite an important thing in the air! It’s not half as scary as the book makes out and I managed it without too many butterflies in my tummy. I’m quite good at turning and flying straight and I’ve started to learn how to take off and land but am not entirely convinced I’ll ever be able to do it by myself. There are so many things to think of and they all have to be in order. Still I’ve only had about 7 hours flying - by the time I’ve had 40, I might feel differently. My instructor plans to increase my lessons to two a day from next week – so thing should be getting a bit easier.

Ground school is going well too. We have finished ‘the principles of flight’ and ‘flight planning’, now are learning about aircraft mechanics. I went to bed last night totally exhausted, after a long day of studying, ground school and flying. I began to think that I had ‘bitten of more than I could chew’, but soon gave myself a good talking to – challenges are meant to be hard, that’s what makes them so fulfilling when they are accomplished.

Today we had a real treat – no flying because of the water-logged runways meant we were able to have our two hours of ground school early, that left us the whole afternoon to ourselves. One of the Cadets took us to a local cheese factory where we bought tourist stuff. I managed to find some marmalade – another thing I’ve been missing terribly. Taking us out is not easy, three wheelchairs and assorted crutches only just fit in the mini bus. Mine of course is the heaviest and as they don’t have any ramps, it needs two people to lift it in. The people watched in amazement as he unpacked all our stuff and we trooped into the shop. The rain stopped and the sun shone of long enough for us to sit outside for tea. I had a wonderful Cappuccino that could have come from Starbucks.

On the way we saw a family of monkeys playing by the side of the road and made the usual cooing noises – the cadet who is a local lad was very unimpressed; they are considered vermin here because if they get into a house they open all the cupboards and wreck everything. Apparently Baboons have the same fate because they eat all the fruit crops. He was totally bemused when we told him that we pay money to drive through open zoos to allow monkeys to sit on our cars and pull at our car aerials.

After our tea we went to the supermarket and bought yet more stuff – The shopping centre is a curious mix of old and new. There is a tiny shopping mall of about 20 shops, it has a very modern glass lift and elevator and several small shops outside. Ladies balancing bags of potatoes on their heads mix with business people and a large smattering of people from the air-school in their blue and white military style uniforms. No flying seems to mean that everyone leaves the base to go into town.

I finally found some postcards and some warm socks! I mistakenly thought that Africa would be hot and I wouldn’t get cold feet at night!! Martine and I went window shopping and were approached by a man wanting us to go into his shoe shop. She lifted up her trousers to show him her shinny metal legs and said – ‘no thanks mate – I don’t need any of those’ you should have seen his face!

All the shops closed dead on five ( or 17.00 as we pilots say) The mass exodus of people quickly divided into the ‘haves’ and ‘have-not’s’ As the cars owned by the more affluent people drove off, they were replaced by open backed pickup type trucks, everyone who could climbed aboard and clung on for dear life as the sped away. The remaining people, including the ladies with the bags of potatoes on their heads, were left to walk home, we saw them disappearing into the wilderness to goodness knows where, as we took our comfortable minibus back to the school

It’s going to be a busy weekend. Paul, our ground school teacher is taking us to a local pub and then out for dinner and I’ve arranged to go to the local Anglican Church on Sunday morning – We aim to enjoy our freedom while the ground dries out, because the really hard work starts on Monday. Two hours ground-school and four hours flying instruction each day (weather permitting) won’t leave much room for anything except studying and sleep.

2006-08-23T21:41:00.000+01:00

Some pictures of the airfield The administration buildings

The first thatched cottage you can see in the front of this picture is our ground school The area is very flat which makes for easier take off and landings. We are also at sea level which, as I have just learnt at school. makes everything work better. It also makes for some beautiful evening skys

2006-08-23T21:19:00.000+01:00

Some pictures of the airschool.

The canteen where we eat our meals

A view from the door of my room and our gardeners

Kath Maritne and Paul

Ice Cream and Chocolate sauce for Pudding.

2006-08-20T21:38:00.000+01:00

The end of week one.

There’s nothing so depressing as an airfield in bad weather. The planes are all on the ground, the runways are all muddy and everything is strangely quiet. It’s so too cold and wet to be outside, everyone is shivering and has locked themselves in their rooms. Even the little yellow weaver birds who build their nests in the tree outside my room have taken shelter from the wind somewhere. Weather.com estimates the wind to be 22mph with gusts up to 33 and it certainly feels like it in my room. Apparently central heating is uncommon in South Africa, so are glass and doors that fit – the draft in my room lifts the curtains with long graceful waves of cold air.

We were hoping to go out today but in true 1950’s British culture – everything is closed and anyway its too wet to ride around in wheelchairs. The highlight of the day has been the three trips to the canteen for meals, and – Ice cream with chocolate sauce for pudding at lunch, what bliss, and just when I had completely give up hope of having anything sweet for the next six weeks!

Bad weather of course means no flying, I don’t think I have ever spent a day when I had nothing - but nothing to do. Thank goodness for my ipod and radio. I have spent the day studying, and I was just getting the hang of the flying thing too. There’s such a lot to remember – but it’s quite easy really, or so everyone keeps telling me.

I think it’s like driving a car with extras! Point it where you want to go and accelerate, or decelerate, but being in the air you have to think about going up and down at the same time - up makes it go slower, down makes it go faster, and of course there’s the wings to think about as well. There’s a thing called a ‘trim’ which is like setting cruse control, you have to do it together with all the rest. Its like patting your head and rubbing your tummy at the same time, and I was never very good at that!.

I had a bad day on Friday and was ready to come back to my room and cry, I was convinced I had made a terrible mistake – and was not strong enough to handle the controls. Luckily the rest of the group gave me a good takling too and I soon got over feeling sorry for myself. I think we were all feeling pretty low that day, the consequence of a mammoth journey and sheer exhaustion. Two days later we are all feeling much more rested and optimistic, and utterly frustrated that we can’t do anything because of this horrible rain.

Everyone assures me that the experience of flying in worth just as much as achieving the licence, but I am really determined to do this – even if it means finishing it of in the UK when I get back.

So I’ve spent the days trying to get to grips with the books. Funnily enough I am really enjoying studying again, and learning something completely different. The mechanics of flying is very interesting; I have always wondered what made those huge aeroplanes stay up in the sky, all the way to America, now I know. I have just reached a rather lengthy explanation about ‘stall’, which frightened the life out of me, so I have closed the book and decided to write my diary. Tomorrow I have a flying lesson at 9am- and I am not going to worry about stalling yet – just trying to get the trim right.

2006-08-18T20:52:00.000+01:00

Kath and her instructor Paul doing a ground check. You have to look at everything outside before you can get in.

2006-08-18T20:25:00.000+01:00

Me at the airstrip

Me in my airschool uniform - can't eat anything more as its the biggest size. Susan says I should loose the hat!

2006-08-18T20:13:00.000+01:00

Friday August 19th

Just had a wonderful dinner of tee-bone steak chips and beans and have decided to make an early night of it. There’s a Solo party in the bar, the tradition is that after their solo flight, each student gets thrown into the swimming pool! Once everyone in the group has flown solo they throw a party. It looked like a good one – lots of coloured balloons flashing lights and streamers and of course copious amounts of alcohol to liven things up a bit.

There are two groups of students, the largest contingent are very mainly young men, some from Kenya, the Seychelles, a few from South Africa Airways studying for their pilots licence and us. There are four FSD students, Martine lost her legs in the July bombings last year, Kate has a back problem , they are much younger than me. Paul is a road traffic accident victim and has a broken back he has some flying experience and is helping us cope with the complexities of ground school. Kate and I are lucky because we can walk, although Kate walks much more than me. Martine and Paul are confined to their wheelchairs. They need hand controls on their planes but we manage on regular ones. It must be an odd sight seeing the four of us making our way across the air field to our flying lessons.

The rest seem to be a bit older, some from Ireland and others from South Africa, they have their licences and are working towards more substantial licences for the bigger airlines. We have counted three girls, (other that us three) out of the 150 or so men. The commercial pilots have to have a huge amount of flying hours, and if they can’t get sponsored they live on campus for up to three years and become instructors. Each hour they teach goes towards their ultimate goals. Everyone is so pleasant and friendly and only to happy to help in anyway they can. Although I don’t think they know quite what to make of us. I sat on by the command centre this morning waiting for my lesson and I think every of the 150 students passed me by and said ‘good morning’ It was exhausting keeping a friendly smile on my face

As you can imagine feeding such a large group of men consists of large quantities of carbohydrates – three meals a day of what could be described as 1950’s British cooking, meat, over cooked vegetables and huge amounts of rice and potatoes. . I don’t think healthy eating is an issue here – with the clientele that frequent our canteen, calories are of paramount importance. High fat, sugar and salt is the order of the day, which of course makes everything tastes so good but is not very good four our waistlines! Curiously we don’t get any puddings. There is fruit available at lunchtime but nothing in the evenings. Except on Sundays when we will have roast dinner, followed by ice-cream with chocolate sauce.

The rooms are basic but very nice – there is one bathroom for every two bedrooms, we have long working desks with overhead lights, wardrobes and very comfortable beds. The bathrooms have good showers and plentiful very hot water. My room is very near the bar where the solo party will erupt any time now. The noise level doesn’t seem so bad, yet, I can hear speeches and the occasional laughter and clapping, I expect the music to start soon.

I caused a bit of a stir yesterday, we went into the local town (Port Alfred). Previous FSD students us that the video shop has a broadband internet connection and there is a local supermarket. I wanted to find some liquid hand soap for the bathroom, a smelly fresh air thing in the loo and some decent coffee. It’s funny what I miss already……….

Just heard a splash – several people have been thrown in the swimming pool. It must be freezing – the nights are still quite cold and the pool is outside and unheated!

……………..They gave us bar of Lux we arrived , but it is terrible stuff, dries up anything it touches and I’m not sure how hygienic it is, and I would kill for a decent cup of coffee. We can buy some in the canteen that’s quite good but it’s over the other side of the campus, and I’d love to be able to make some in my room. Martine another FSD student, has bought a travel kettle – so all we need is coffee.

I don’t think anyone had ever seen an electric wheelchair before – the parking attendants in their yellow waistcoats didn’t know whether to find me a place to park or guide me into the shops! I had lots of calls about how cool the chair was, the parking guys all called out ‘hello momma’ seems to be the term for big fat old lady. I think they were good natured, but I did begin to feel a bit uneasy by the end of the trip, and was very glad to see the cadets appear with the bus to collect us. I was pleased to find that the supermarket had everything we needed. It’s called ‘Pick and Pay’ and has blue striped bags just like Tescos.

The Cadets are another bunch of very young lads, the lowest in the pecking order of this patriarchal society, they work at anything they can to earn flying lessons. They sleep in a bunk house which seems to be just a thatched room divided into cubicles by wardrobes, they have to pay for their food – so they always look hungry.

Flight school isn’t run on Saturdays and Sundays- but we still fly. So we are hoping to catch up on some book work and perhaps on Sunday try to go out for lunch. We will have to persuade a couple of the cadets to take us, there are no taxis, or for that matter public transport of any kind, and the school do not have wheelchair ramps. So I need two strong young men to lift my 70kg electric chair in and out of the school mini bus, every time I go anywhere. I have a feeling that if we offer to pay for their lunch we won’t get much resistance.

2006-08-15T21:21:00.000+01:00

It was a very long trip – very very long!

Irv and I left home at about 13.30 on Saturday (have to get in practice for my 24 hour clock test) and arrived at the airport at 15.00. There were people everywhere, and despite having our own ‘special needs’ check in area, we were still met with a sea of chaos. I had already been warned to only carry documents and money in a clear bag, and that our normal had luggage was to be put into the hold .

Thankfully, our check in was extraordinarily uneventful. One of the Charities Trustees – Captain Charles Everett came to see us off in his splendid Captain’s uniform. He managed to organise for us to use the first class check in, with the minimum of fuss. Poor Charles suffered the consequences of his uniform; he was constantly accosted by angry or lost passengers asking for help or information. Although unable to help he was the consummate professional and dealt with them in the most polite and curious way.

Putting everything in the hold caused me some anxiety because over the last few weeks my stash of technology had grown to an amazing amount. Despite my concerns about security and damage I waved good buy to my brand new laptop, phone, radio, ipod , wheelchair charger, travel iron , hairdryer, all the bits I normally remove from my chair and carry with me, and of course the chair itself.

The rest of the group were having similar problems, with their lack of hand luggage, and thank goodness for Kate’s Dad, who wins the prize for self sufficiency. He brought a role of brown parcel tape – predominantly to secure her wheelchair, and was soon pressed into action by the rest of us, to secure footplates, cushions etc, and, when we found out that our crutches had to be checked in as well, used copious amounts to fasten them together, heaven knows what would have happened if they all were checked in separately!

For the most able of us, the most difficult thing of all to cope with was the loss of our crutches because; once we were plonked in one of those terrible airport wheelchairs we had lost all independence. We were taken by porters to a very nice ‘special needs’ lounge and left till time for the plane to take off, so no chance of any shopping at all.

We were terribly lucky though because despite all the forebodings in the newspapers, the plane was only 30 mins leaving. The crew were extremely helpful and organised two seats for each of us, which meant that we had a very uneventful trip, and were even able to get a few hours sleep. When we arrived at Johannesburg, it was hard to believe that we had finally arrived – one airport lounge looks very much like another and we could have just as easily been in New York, Paris or London. We were met by a veritable army of porters who collected our luggage and took us to wait in the first class BA lounge to wait for our connecting flight to Port Elizabeth.

Following another uneventful trip we arrived almost 27 hours later at our final destination. After packing and repacking the luggage and waiting 30 mins for me to sort out yet more technology at the cell phone desk, our mini bus set off for the 43rd Air School in Port Alfred. Then it really began to sink in how far we had travelled and what we were about to do.

The trip took us through rolling dark satanic hills spotted with fields of bright red earth or rich green pasture. Some fields had cows of the same colour as the earth, most had huge cactus and large patches of wild red hot pokers. The most striking thing I noticed was the scattered groups of people walking along the roadside. Apparently miles away from any township, in the middle of dense countryside we would pass groups of people, walking purposely by the side of the road. Where they had come from – or were aiming for was a complete mystery to me.

Tired and hungry for anything except aeroplane food we arrived at the school almost 30 hours from when we started, and we were soon installed in clean spacious rooms. Our itinerary started the next day with a 8.30 briefing and an introductory flight. Now the adventure begins…………...

2006-08-02T01:04:00.000+01:00

My First Flying Lessons

Little did I know that the first challenge was to get in the plane, let alone make the thing fly. I’m not the smallest of people, an under active thyroid and a year sitting around feeling sorry for myself doesn’t do much for the waist line – or hips for that matter. (I have never understood why some people when they get sick loose tonnes of weight and have to fight hard to put it back on. While I put on weight when I’m ill and it never seems to come off)

I know it sound silly, but just the fact that I could master getting in and out of the plane was in itself a huge confidence booster. Even if, getting out wasn’t quite as elegant as Princess Diana getting out of her limousine! The next lesson allowed me to overcome two more challenges, phew the seatbelt went round me, and I was actually able to fly the aeroplane.

It was a crisp, clear, sunny day and my teacher taught me how to ‘cloud bust’. Did you know that if you get your wing tip into a little patch of cloud – it disappears? I have no idea why, but flying about the sky aiming for unsuspecting clouds to destroy was thrilling, it’s the best-kept secret in the world, no wonder people take it up as a hobby, its pure pleasure.

By the end of the lesson I was exhausted and my arms hurt from using all the controls, but I had done it! The experience was even more exciting because I decided not to tell my family what I was doing. I didn’t want to put them through an more worry. (In retrospect it wasn’t the wisest decision), but at the time, having a secret was intoxicating. Driving along in the car with my husband, looking up at that blue sky and saying to myself – I’ve been up there - made me feel like a naughty schoolgirl. I’d never had a secret before, it was fun.

Those first few lessons literally turned my life around. I began yet another attempt to loose weight, and joined the gym to see if I could strengthen my arm muscles, but best of all, it gave me a sense of optimism, that I could pull myself out of the quicksand and begin living again.

2006-08-02T00:06:00.000+01:00

Fight and Flight

When I decided to learn to fly, I wasn’t to know that things would never be quite the same again. I had been through a bad patch health wise. The cancer treatment was over, all bar the drugs, but I still was very unsteady on my feet, terribly tired and I hurt all over. I really couldn’t understand why I kept bumping into my friends!. I’m sure people at work thought I had a hidden stash of Gin in my office, as my speech slurred when I tried to talk to them and most days I could be seen staggering from side to side down our open plan office.

After numerous visits to specialists, I was diagnosed with Cerebella Ataxia. A neurological condition, which causes lack of coordination, and most likely I had the more nastier version of this called MSA. The consultant needed a refresher on his people skills, because after deciding on his diagnosis of MSA he sent us home with the webside written on a piece of paper. Leaving us to discover on our own, that the prognosis for this quite horrible condition was 3 to 5 years. Later that month yet another consultant diagnosed the pain I was experiencing, as another horrible condition – Fibromyalgia – a double whammy!! I must admit I felt so poorly that I put a call in to my Macmillan nurse and just sat down, took all the painkillers, and waited for the inevitable to happen …………. until I got bored!!

When I first had cancer, by chance, I heard a radio program where Libby Purvis interviewed a councillor who worked with cancer patients. Her mantra was

Find Out – Face it – and Fight it

It helped me then and was just as applicable now.

So I found out …..I read everything I could about MSA and decided that few of my present symptoms reflected MSA and became more certain that the lesser condition Cerebella Ataxia was more likely to be my problem. I sent my husband shopping on his next trip to the USA, for a book ‘Fibromyalgia for Dummies’ from the same publishers as ‘Windows for Dummies’ and all the other yellow and black self help books. When I read it, the last chapter recommended that readers get tested for an under-active thyroid because sometimes fibro’ can be misdiagnosed for hypothyroidism . Well of course, I did, and thankfully, my thyroid was misbehaving itself!

And I faced it ……….So by the spring of 2005, due mainly to large doses of thyroxin and a great deal of will power, I was back at work and feeling much more optimistic about life in general. Most of the pain was gone and I could stay awake for a whole day. Although the lack of co-ordination was affecting my eyesight, speech and mobility, all of these problems were just inconveniences that could be overcome with a little organisation. Life was beginning to look good again, I had a new Motabily car and thanks to a wonderful government scheme Access to Work we organised a wheelchair for work and an electric hoist to put it in my car, stair lift for home, some speech activated software and upgraded my PC.

And I fought it ….. Flying was a integral part of my fight back to ‘normal’ life When I found out about the Disabled Flying Scholarship (FSD) scheme from a work colleague, I called Sue Whitby at the FSD office to find out about it. She recommended that before I put the application in, I had a few lessons, just to see if it was something I wanted to do. So I organised a couple of sessions at my local flying school at Sibson near Peterborough and began my real road to recovery. So much so that when I wrote the application form for the scholarship, I started out with a big thank you, for inspiring me to look at the future and leave the past behind.

FSD Information Video, 2005

2006-07-20T21:46:00.000+01:00


Video about the work of Flying Scholarships for the Disabled.

2006-07-19T22:17:00.000+01:00

How it all began

During my forties, I’d had a couple of close calls with cancer and I didn’t know whether I was going to make it or not!! Consequently, my 50th birthday saw me organising two events, my funeral and my Birthday! Thank goodness I beat the cancer and had a wonderful party. Three years later I found out that I had a neurological problem that affects my balance and co-ordination. So I made a list of all the things I really wanted to do before getting about became too difficult. I must admit that flying wasn’t on the agenda! The closest was Falconry, I wanted to take my grandson to Disney world, and I really fancied feeding a tiger!

As I faced the fact that I was probably going to have to retire from work early, I looked around some activity that could be exciting; a challenge that could take the place of my first love, teaching and that would take my mind off my health problems. It had to be something that did not take a lot of energy, be manageable from a wheelchair and be a bit outrageous. Stamp collecting just didn’t fit the bill.

It occurred to me that I had once gave my husband a flying lesson for his birthday, and in the theory that we normally by others the things that we really like to have ourselves, I thought I’d give it a try. My family love me dearly and I had put them through enough worry, over the last few years, so I decided to do this in secret

The thing about turning 50, was for the first time in my life I stopped worrying about what other people thought of me. It was an Epiphany! I figured if they didn’t like me now they never would. My experience had been that despite half a lifetime of trying to please people, I was never able to make people that didn’t like me change their minds so I stopped trying!.

Not having to worry about what other people thought of me enabled me to think about what I wanted to do. And sometimes when I was sick, I felt very tired and old, but for the most part I feel just as I did when I was 20. (I think that’s the same for most people) I have never thought about getting old, my stubbornness revolved around getting the most out of life I possibly could. Sitting around waiting for the inevitable to happen is just a waist of time.

After a few flying lessons I decided that this was exactly what I wanted to do, but flying is terribly expensive, and it would talk me years to get a licence, A colleague told me about a charity that offered flying lessons for the disabled and of course I applied. Then I lost my mother very suddenly and I flying became very low on the agenda.

Imagine my surprise, 6 months later, when I got the news that I had been short listed and I had to go to RAF Cranwell to be assessed for my suitability.

Imaging my family’s surprise when I had to tell them that not only had I been taking flying lessons in secret but there was a real possibility of me getting a flying scholarship - 6 weeks in South Africa studying for a pilot’s licence.

There were100 applicants and 24 of us were short listed and 10 scholarships awarded. I felt very lucky to be in the presence of such courage, every one of us had a story to tell, most much worse than mine, and although desperate to be chosen, we all wanted each other to succeed. When the call came I was speechless, I had been awarded a full scholarship and would be going to South Africa in August to learn to fly. My family are still in a state of shock, they are proud of me, but totally bemused by the whole thing. I think they have accepted that living with me is never easy and always a bit of an adventure.

As for the Falcons - they are in the diary for next month. The Tigers and Disney world is going to have to wait till next year.

Judith Margolis 1st May 2006