Well one things for certain, I will never get a private pilot's licence. As a birthday surprise, I'd arranged for Jan to take a flight, in a small plane, over our village, and today was the day. It had been postponed from Wednesday "because the plane needs some maintenance". Take just as long as you like, I thought!
Whilst she knew that we were going to do something, she had no idea what it was and because I know that she is not good with heights I decided to go as well. As we walked towards the plane, some French built thing, I mentioned casually "does this have an AVCO Lycoming engine?" Robin, our pilot, dived into his bag to get the manual. "Why yes", he said, suitably impressed, "that's remarkable knowledge". I nodded and just looked knowledgeable. The US still supports France in so many intangible ways!
We left Nimes heading north and soon we started to bank left (to port, for all you smart arses) "to avoid the army firing range". That's great I thought, not only is there nothing but fresh air keeping this plane up but we might also get shot out of the sky! The sweat poured down my back and I even started to fog up my side window. I checked with Jan to see that she was ok, and she was.
I didn't really need to worry about Jan because she sat there happily, enjoying the scenery and picking out the various landmarks. I, meanwhile, turned various shades of green. This was definitely a time for pressure on the Nei Kuan Points but needless to say I had forgotten to bring the equipment. The weather was perfect, a beautiful cloudless blue sky, with no wind, but despite the perfect conditions the plane still managed to twist, drop and buck. Every now and then Robin wrote something on his clipboard and as he did so the plane started to nose dive. "Can I write it for you?" I asked plaintively, as the sweat continued to pour down my back.
We flew over the village at an angle of 45 degrees, with me trying hard to lean the other way to correct the fault, and then over to Uzes before turning south, past the Pont du Gard. At this point Traffic Control told us about a plane in our vicinity. I spotted it way before Robin and I think the technical term is a "near miss". It appears that below 2000 feet you fly by sight and at 2000 feet you "chat" to ATC at the military airfield at Garons. ATC is manned by a woman (if that isn't an oxymoron) who speaks English with a lovely French accent. Very distracting.
As we approach the airfield, Robin circles "to check that there are no other aircraft on the runway". He spots one moving to take off to the south (everything else is taking off and landing to the north) and we hear monsieur French pilot mumble something, before he starts off down the runway. Robin circles again, checks everything is clear, and puts her down perfectly. "Thank you", Jan said, "Thank God", I said.
Tonight we go to see The Champions Senior Tennis Tour in Nimes. The main match featured Mats Wilander, world number one in 1988 , and Henri Leconte, world number 5 in 1986. Leconte was his usual clowning best and Wilander, despite his war chest of honours could not beat the Frenchman . Great tennis and the perfect end to the day.
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