· What is Freedom Flight
Freedom Flight is the story of the world record setting microlight expedition which took off completely unsupported from Cape Town, South Africa on the 16th of December 2003, flying across five continents and 11 months later, on the 20th of November 2004 returned establishing a world record of 64000 kilometers (over 39000 miles). The longest microlight expedition in the world.
The expedition was the pursuit of the two pilots, Alan Honeyborne and Ricky De Agrela’s ambitious dreams and determination to fly two small microlights, not only around the world but also across each continent of the world on the longest expedition ever flown in a light aircraft.
The outcome of the expedition extended beyond physical limits, encompassed life’s greatest and saddest extremes, with each adding deeper purpose to the motivation and determination which achieved it’s success.
This is a copy of the unedited web page updates written along the way describing the people, places and experiences. Photographs are included to add visual impressions of the adventure.
These will give you an introduction to the book that has been written exposing the excitement, hardships, trauma, and support that drove the expedition across the world and through incredible life transforming experiences, leaving provoking thoughts of our everyday life.
For more information on the book please send your email address to freedomflightbook@yahoo.com
The primary Mission of the expedition was
“To encourage others to pursue their own dreams and goals.”
If you feel the expedition story maybe of encouragement to someone, please email a copy or pass this page link on to them. Freedom Flight.
All we ask is please not to use any of it for commercial purposes and should you feel obliged to contribute towards it in some way, we would appreciate you making the contribution to the Red Cross Children’s Hospital via their web site http://www.childrenshospitaltrust.org.za/
Thank You
Ricky De Agrela
Synopsis
On the 16th December 2003, after three years of preparation, selling their homes and possessions to fund the expedition, Alan Honeyborne and Ricky De Agrela took off from Cape Town, South Africa, flying two small (hang glider type) microlights around the world. They set off completely unsupported, on a course that would achieve a world record of the longest microlight flight ever undertaken.
The updates that follow describe the fascinating adventure as they flew up the remote wilderness areas of Africa, across Yemen, Oman, Pakistan and North into Nepal. Then turning South across jungles, islands and several sea crossings to Australia where they met up with family and friends before setting course back North passing through Cambodia, Vietnam and on to China where sadly Alan had a fatal accident. This threw the expedition into disarray, leaving Ricky with the difficult choice of either ending the expedition or to try to revive the spirit of encouragement they had established through Asia and to continue flying in memory of Alan.
With encouragement from all corners of the world he arranged to meet up with a fellow South African pilot, Martin Walker, in San Francisco, USA where they continued across the continent and South through Mexico to Belize. Tragedy struck again with Martin sustaining a fatal accident.
The expedition was placed in turmoil and once again a difficult choice had to be made. Circumstances of Martin’s accident instilled determination in Ricky to continue the expedition. Flying back alone to the USA and then continuing from England, Europe, the Mediterranean and South through the Sahara desert and wilderness of Africa. On the 20th November 2004, 11 months and 64000km later, he landed at Cape Town International Airport concluding the expedition and achieving a world record, The Longest Microlight Expedition in the World.
· The Freedom Flight Experience.
Our perceptions of the world were continuously proved wrong compared to the reality we experienced. Every country we visited was a magnificent place.
We were received with kindness and assistance from people of all walks of life and it is those people and their kindness that motivated and drove the expedition.
We are so fortunate to live in the world at a time of mobile phones, internet, credit cards and airlines all adding to making it conducive for us to travel and pursue our dreams of adventure.
Good Luck with yours
Web Updates as they appeared on the web site http://www.safreedomflight.com/
Dec 1 2002
Port Elizabeth
South Africa
So where did this all start?
Thinking back now, it's hard to pin-point the exact date we decided to fly around the world but I know the topic first came up on Ricky and my first long expedition together (Namibia 2000.) While most people were recovering from the Y2K non-event and disposing of stock-piled provisions for the possible end of the world and/or greatest party ever, we were blundering around the Namib Desert, discovering how much crap we could have left at home and exactly what we shouldn't have!
A year later, up in Vic Falls on the next big one, the topic came up again but this time in more earnest. Ricky's main concern had very little to do with the real dangers involved in a trip of this nature. I still clearly remember him taking me aside and instructing, 'Just don't go and get f#%$ing married!' In fact for the next year he seemed more concerned about the state of my relationship than anything else.
By March 2002 we'd done much talking and very little real organising and something had to be done. It was while I was in Cape Town to push a bicycle up Ou Kaapse Weg (also known as doing the Argus cycle race) that we sat down and over a few beers, put a peg in the ground. 17th December 2003, 100 years after the Wright Brothers, we'd get airborne and go for it.
Suddenly the project took on an air of reality and things had to start happening. What follows is a diary, for now updated as things happen, but what will later turn into a daily account of the trip itself.
Apart from the obvious, one vital part of flying around the world will be running a website from the road and to make sure we're capable, our yearly adventure (this time a flight up South Africa's longest river) was captured on http://www.bluehorizons.co.za/ and http://www.bluehorizons.co.za/ .
By now we had a much better idea of what to take and despite being rather an eventful trip, technically everything went great. The trip also confirmed some technical issues we'd considered: variable engine cooling, fuel tank size and altitude ability to name a few. Once again, as a team we worked well together, using complimenting skills to achieve what had to be done.
Alan
Jan 1 2003
Port Elizabeth
South Africa
12 months is not a long time and some important decisions had to be made: Type of trikes? Identical aircraft or to each his own? Engine? To name but the obvious. After much debate, consultation and financial investigation, we settled on www.solowings.co.za' trikes that we would fit Rotax 912 (80hp) to along with a few minor alterations. This was not an easy decision as everyone we spoke to was equally enthusiastic, capable and ready to get involved.
The next step was to start to break the task down and decide who would do what. With vastly varying skills and abilities, this was the easy part, Ricky taking logistics, finance and procurement, me getting the technical stuff as well as starting this website.
Alan
March 1 2003
Port Elizabeth
South Africa
One requirement for this expedition is a fairly comprehensive instrument panel, including such non-trike gadgets as transponders, panel-mount radios and possibly even HF equipment. Existing pods were just not up to the load so first duty is to design a pod that can handle all the required bits, won't interfere with rigging/de-rigging and be removable (or at least secure) should the trikes be left unattended.
By the end of March, under the somewhat amused but very helpful eye of NCS Resins, I'm much better at working with composites and we have something that resembles the requirements. We'll only know for sure in about 3 months when everything comes together.
Alan
April 1 2003
Port Elizabeth
South Africa
With the engines on order and the first components arriving from Solowings, the hangar has started to look like something is actually happening. I have enlisted the help of Russel Phillips, local plane building guru and designer of the http://www.whisperaircraft.com/ Whisper Motor Glider to fit the 912's. His guidance and expertise have made this a far less painful procedure than I had expected.
Aviation Engines, who will be supplying the Rotax 912's (80hp) and await their arrival from Europe, have in the mean time provided a mock-up engine to test fit which really comes in handy.
Alan
May 1 2003
Port Elizabeth
South Africa
Much of May has been spent sourcing the correct components for engine mounts, cutting brackets, re-cutting brackets and finally getting bracket laser cut. By month's end we should have a (mock) 912 successfully hanging out the back of an Aquilla.
The first of the engine hardware has also started to arrive and despite slight delays with the engines themselves, I'm happy with progress and know that rushing things now will not help us later on.
Alan
June 1 2003
Apart from being my brother's birthday, this is also the first day the entire engine bracket has been assembled and fits! After too many adjustments and recut peices to remember, at last everything seems to be in the right place. I have to keep reminding myself that it only has to handle one flight around the world...
Alan
June 3 2003
Its amazing how motivating visible progress can be. Today we lowered the engine bracket with the 912 onto the airframe and suddenly the rather skinny undercarriage took on the look of a rather serious aircraft. Everything seems to fit as planned and its all systems go now to fit the exhaust and radiators.
Alan
6/3/2003
Cape Town
What is happening behind the scenes?
All is well on track and the excitement is building as we get the adventure prepared. It is taking a lot of focus and hard work which is actually fun when one does these things with enthusiasm.
At present we are multi-tasking between arranging the trikes, dealing with marketing, pursuing sponsors and organizing the logistics of the route with it's related formalities.
My primary task at the moment is arranging the route through Africa, Asia and Australia. The route planning was done sometime back but now we are refining the details with time frames to prepare the applications for flight permits in and out of the various countries. How we go about planning the route is as follows: A rough route is firstly planned across continents and a timetable is calculated. This is then adjusted to fit in with the seasons and weather conditions, particularly at various important junctions. For example we have to cross the Bering Straits to Alaska in summer and need to have crossed the Asian tropics before monsoon season. Once this is sorted out we then look at closer details of the route through each continent based on how viable it is to fly over the different terrain and related safety factors. The sea crossings are kept to a minimum and alternative landing areas along the route are considered. This sometimes results in us not planning the shortest route but rather the safest route with the most alternatives.
The next step is to do research on each country to check the viability of flying through the area, the location of all the airports, especially the airports of entry and exit for customs purposes. Availability of fuel and the local situation and customs are an important consideration. At the same time we have to be open minded and not influenced by the perceptions developed through inaccurate reports and rumours. The internet is a fantastic source of information for this purpose and through the web pages we have made contact with people all over the world who have been incredibly helpful with their local knowledge and are assisting in planning the adventure.
It is great to discover the interesting facts about all these countries, some of which we were unaware of how prosperous and dynamic they are. Have a look at some of these web pages: Oman http://www.omanet.com/ Aladdin's kingdom: Qatar http://www.qatar-info.com/
Bhutan www.kingdomofbhutan.com
Once we have the details of the route planned and the microlight registrations the next step is to apply for the flight permits into each country and the visas. Some of this will be arranged prior to our departure and some will be processed while we are traveling.
For now it is goodbye until we have some more interesting updates.
Ricky
Cape Town
2 June 2003
The idea of doing a huge adventure flight originated around a “braai” (barbecue/campfire cooking meat) at an airfield in Knysna, South Africa. There was no discussion of how far, when or where such an adventure would take place, just plenty of idle chatter.
We organized and flew several adventure flights around Southern Africa and each time adding to the pipe dream of a big flight, possibly around the world. Like most dreams the actual thought of doing such an adventure seemed beyond our means and the enormity of the task was just too daunting to even contemplate. It would also be too irresponsible to take so much time off and we definitely could not afford such a trip. So ideas were tempered and yet another dream was shelved. Occasionally the idea was mentioned and several people had a good laugh about it. We did the only thing we could and laughed with them to save being too embarrassed.
One day in Botswana under the boiling hot African sun we started convincing ourselves that it was possible to fly around the world on microlights and agreed that we would do it. The route was plotted, distances, fuel and costs etc. were calculated and plans were formulated to pursue sponsors for this amazing adventure. Sponsors would not be able to resist this opportunity. Hello! Reality check! Marketing company after marketing company, sponsor after sponsor, nobody wanted to know our story, primarily because of skepticism which is understandable (or maybe we don’t sell ourselves very well). So we sat down and reassessed costs and looked at all the possibilities. Sell everything we got. Not enough. Sell ourselves. No Takers.
Then we spoke to equipment suppliers and manufacturers of microlights who responded with enthusiasm. They have been of such great assistance that together with selling our souls we will be well positioned to make it at least as far as China. It will have to be a bread and water diet which will add to making the adventure interesting and fun.
At this stage we are still pursuing sponsorship but have several enterprising backup plans to generate funds on route. The reality has set in sometime back that we are going to have to make sacrifices (like Alan not getting married) and work hard to make this adventure happen. This far it has been enjoyable and we hope it will be fun for everyone too.
Ricky
Sept 1 2003
Port Elizabeth
Update on the technical stuff.
Well if no news is good news, then things down in PE have been going well. And in truth they have. The aircraft are rapidly reaching completion and although it has taken a few weeks longer than hoped, the wait should be well rewarded.
What has truly amazed me has been the enthusiasm of everyone who has got involved. The learning curve has been steep but the contacts (and friends!) made during the process have been incredible. People like Rob from Infratig/Mega500 who has done all the welding, who somehow still smiles and welcomes me when I run into his workshop with some last-minute job that needs to get to the electroplaters. The same guy that spent many late nights getting the engine brackets welded and endured endless (probably stupid) questions about what materials to use and where to get them.
Also on the equipment side the help and advice has been astounding. When I ordered our intercoms from Buzzcom I could hardly have expected what met me when I went to collect them. Larry, Arthur and the whole crew were there with far more than we ordered. Two great helmets with built in head-sets and ice cold beer to celebrate! That’s what I call service…
By the end of the weekend (August 31st) the engine and avionics installation will be complete and after a checkout by Russell Philips from Whisper Aircraft, we’ll put the champagne on ice, take a deep breath and turn the ignitions. Then its off to Solowings in Durban for the final fitting and a test flight for Ricky and myself, Durban to home... nothing like taking things slowly!
Alan
Sept 8 2003
Port Elizabeth
South Africa
On the trike front, things are really starting to happen. The slightly dusty hangar didn't offer what was needed to assemble the electronics so I chose to do the wiring at home, thinking “It's only a bit of wiring. How bad can it be?” Below is a graphic answer.
Two things:
1. No, this isn't Sadam's bunker
2. Yes, I am single.
On the serious side, a few changes had to be made. The initial batch of switches just didn't cut it so they were all dumped in favour of some very nice weatherproof ones care of the local sailing shop. By 2am on Thursday morning things were nearing completion and here are the two panels ready for testing (We hooked them up on Friday and low and behold, no smoke, fire or disturbing noises – just crystal clear communications and the familiar Stratomaster boot-screen.
Alan
Sept 9 2003
Port Elizabeth
South Africa
Work hard, play hard! I guess that best sums up the weekend.
Original plan was for Ricky to arrive on Friday and help ferry the undercarriages to Durban but with the finishing touches taking a bit longer than hoped, we chose to delay for a week and do things to our satisfaction.
Ricky arrived on Friday evening and we headed straight to the hangars to reassure him that all his hard earned money was in fact not being wasted. I think he approved of what he saw because later in the evening he bought the first round. I think he also approved of the Friendly City's hospitality…
We me Saturday at the hangars around 10am, both wishing the doors didn't face east into a rather bright (very late) sunrise. With no time to loose we got stuck in and eventually I learned just to ignore Ricky's ongoing complaints that he couldn't have been involved from the start. By 6pm we were both worked out but had made good progress and were happy to call it a day and head for a quiet dinner. We were the last to leave the restaurant - AGAIN!
Sunday and more bright sunshine, thankfully not as bright as the day before. Another full day but excellent progress and after discovering a (deliberate!) mistake with the oil lines, we finished the preparations, held our breaths and cranked the first one over, and over, and over….
Someone switched the light on at the end of the tunnel and we realized the throttles, unlike the two-strokes we’re used to, are normally open! Note: don't just read the manual, actually pay attention when doing so! With the throttles now in the right position, we cranked her over again and suddenly there was life. A scan of the Stratomaster Extreme revealed all was well and for a few minutes we could just sit back and enjoy the fruits of six months work. The temptation was very strong just to let the 912 run on into the night but common sense prevailed and we soon exchanged the fire extinguishes for a bottle of champagne and drank to the first major milestone.
Alan
Sept 19 2003
Cape Town
We’‘ve known for some time that the flying would be the safest and easiest part of this expedition but I doubt either of us had any idea just how bad some of the non-flying parts over the past weekend would be. After all, we were just towing the undercarriages to the factory in Durban for final fitting.
All started well. Ricky arrived on Friday afternoon and after collecting the flat-bed trailer we headed for the hangar in a light drizzle to load the aircraft. Thanks to some careful measuring and dumb luck, everything fitted to the last millimeter and by 8 we were headed for dinner and an early night. Well almost…
The 5am wakeup call was far too early but after a good shower and strong coffee we had the trailer hitched and were on the road. As we headed further east and closer to the old Transkei, things started to get interesting. The first indication that you‘re in Transkei is the disappearance of the fences and the implementation of the African definition of ‘‘roadworthy’‘ – ‘‘A vehicle (or other) capable of forward motion and overloading.’‘ The rules of the road also change slightly. Exact right of way is somewhat difficult to determine but big, fast moving, overloaded vehicles seem to take priority. Add to all of this drizzle that had now turned to substantial rain and the fact that we were towing a rather precious cargo and I‘m sure you can imagine our states of mind. The crowning moment came when we were restricted (by road works) to one-way traffic. Except that someone decided that waiting in a queue was a throw-back to days of repression and decided to take a chance against the flow. Blocked by a 6 foot drop to our left we sat like trapped rats and watched in horror as this out-of-control vehicle headed straight for us. Ricky and I both braced for impact, probably more concerned for our cargo than anything else. And then…. nothing. Well, not exactly nothing. By some divine intervention the taxi ahead of us took the impact and deflected the offending vehicle around us and out of harms way. I‘d never been so happy in my life to be stuck behind a taxi! Ten minutes later, still laughing nervously about our near-miss, we were passed by a lone wheel, driveshaft still attached. Ahead through the mist a shower of sparks marked the spot where a now three-wheel minibus would spend the rest of the day. Africa sure is an interesting place to live. Needless to say, by the time we reached Durban, our only requirements were cold beer and a place to collapse. We found both and tried not to think that in the morning we‘d do it all again.
Well the trikes are now safely with Aiden and his team at Solowings and thankfully we‘ll be flying them back.
Alan
October 31 2003
Durban
Test(ing) flight
18 October and the planes are ready! So in keeping with tradition we headed for Solowings in Durban for some test flying and a flip home. The plan was to get to Durban on Friday night,spend Saturday getting a feel for the planes and then head down the coast on Sunday.
Saturday wasn‘t exactly perfect flying weather but despite the gusty conditions, we headed for Light Flight where our planes had already been given the nicknames ‘‘White Giants.’‘ Aiden mentioned something about torque effect on takeoff but with 80 horses and carrying nothing but a few litres of fuel, leaving mother earth approximated something better suited to Cape Canaveral. After accepting the initial torque roll on rotation, even with the bar full back the VSI stuck at well over 1000 ft/min and the only way to make it feel like a ‘‘normal’‘ trike was to reduce power and take it easy. With more bad weather through the day we spent time going over every detail of the trikes and preparing for a 700km ‘‘test’‘ flight on Sunday.
The forecast for Sunday looked good but sunrise at Cato Ridge brought with it the same low cloud and drizzle that we‘d had in December when we hangared there. Fortunately by 7:30 the sun was breaking through and we headed for the coast. Fully loaded, the Aquilla’‘s now behaved more like trikes and with a light SE breeze we climbed out from under the last remaining low cloud into a sunlit South Coast.
By Port Edward the breeze had built to a fair NE wind and the GPS’‘s registered ground speeds approaching 80 knots. Having fitted Icom A-200 radios, better suited to closed cockpit aircraft, we were left with some tuning to do and rather than battle talking over background noise, we flew mostly in silence up until Kei Mouth where the gusting winds were to make for anything but boring landings.
We spent two hours sorting out comms, locating food and otherwise convincing ourselves that the wind was getting lighter. Calls to PE Met seemed to indicate that we were over the worst and rather than spend a night under the stars, we fired up the 912’‘s and headed back out west for home. More ground speeds in the 80’‘s but with the wind onshore it was smooth sailing all the way to Woody Cape. Rounding the Cape caused a slight offshore flow and for 15 minutes we got to test the trikes’‘ ability to handle turbulence but with PE looming across the bay, the discomfort was short lived.
On the ground friends and family waited with coffee and snacks and after just 6 hours in the air we were home. Mechanically the trikes are everything we‘d hoped for and with fuel consumption around the 10litre/hour mark things are looking really good. Now all that is left is to sort out the comms tuning and finalize the fuel tanks and extra luggage space.
Alan
October 5 2003
Cape Town
Well, things are going a bit slowly at the moment.
Nothing incredibly exciting to report. Ricky has just been for the last of his injections at the Travel Clinic and Alan still has to go for his second round of shots!
We were also very pleased to announce last week that we have secured a very worthy beneficiary for the trip. For those of you who don't know yet, it is The Red Cross War Memorial Children's Hospital. Visit the beneficiary section to find out more. Please support us by donating your money to this worthy cause, as it is really the only hospital dedicated to children south of Cairo in Africa. Just follow the links from our site, and remember that every bit helps make a difference.
Well, Ricky appeared on Top Billing last week [unfortunately Alan was in P.E. and couldn't make it]. We are slowly starting to build up on the "letting people know what is happening" side of the trip. So watch the media carefully…Ricky and Alan will be applying for police clearance next week and so even though things are happening slowly at the moment, they are happening! Lastly, please visit our "Message Board" and leave a message for the team, they are putting in a lot of effort, and some encouraging words would really be appreciated I'm sure.
Thank you.
Till next week then…
Jane Van Niewholtz
Sea Rescue and Survival Training
Dec 2 2003
Cape Town
Hi Everyone,
Well, we have been very busy as you can imagine, trying to get the visas etc done. We have about four more to go now, and the rest have to be done along the way… A big thank you to Visa Express in Cape Town for helping with the visa applications!
Now we are getting down to things like renewing pilots licenses, radio licenses, medicals, applying for International Drivers licenses etc. etc. and all the little things that take up so much time, but can only be done at the last minute. We are waiting for the flying suits to arrive, they are still on the production line as we speak, so hold thumbs, fingers and toes that they will be done before the end of the week.
I have been busy getting together lists of SA Embassies in the various countries, lists of contacts here in SA and overseas and writing thank you letters (if you haven't received one yet, it will be on its way soon ), among other things.
Alan has finally made his weary way down to Cape Town. Ricky was working on the microlights all of last week, so I literally only saw him for a half and hour. I have been told that from now on, quote "You will be blamed for everything, even if it is not your fault". So wish me good luck as I have to put up with two cranky people from now until take-off.
This is probably the last time you will be receiving news from us until after take-off on the 17th December (weather permitting), but we will be checking the website daily for your well wishes etc., so keep them coming, and we will see you on the 17th.
Jane Van Niewholtz
Dec 2004
Cape Town
South Africa
Getting ready
With less than two weeks to go, and despite the apparent chaotic state around us, things seem to be right on track. The flight from PE to Cape Town went like clockwork, despite having to convince the brain that a leg of 5 hours to Riversdale was more than possible.
The expedition tank works as expected and all that’s left to do on that side is test our very simple fuel transfer system. The improved brakes, precision adapted by Jean Fourie of Carcraft (www.gt40.co.za) are also expected to be ready by Monday so mechanically we're all systems go.
The last hurdle on the logistics side between here and Australia also seems to have fallen, with Yemen giving the verbal OK for flight clearance and visas with only the official paper work to be completed. One look at the piles of papers and the damage to the phone bill is clear evidence of the long hours and stress that Ricky and Jane have been through getting us this far.
On the equipment side, Pedro from Blue Sky Satellite (www.blueskysat.com) nearly knocked us over when, right on time, a parcel arrived with two of the most awesome sat phone packages imaginable. No more worries about staying in contact anywhere now.
Also making its arrival, the long awaited HF radio which will take up the remaining panel space and provide the long-range communication we'll need on some of the sea crossings and in deepest darkest Africa. Now all we have to do is tie up the last few loose ends, see Ricky reduce his living requirements to carry-on size and survive another week of his driving...
Alan
Planned Route
Tuesday 16th Dec 2003
Oudtshoorn
Hi from Ricky
Today was the big take off day which marked the culmination of many months of preparation and huge commitment to this expedition. We have now officially left home, sold everything, are unemployed and being lead by the wind. The outcome of this expedition will be dictated by our determination to overcome circumstances and achieve our goal of flying these ungraceful contraptions around the world.
Thank you to everybody who came to bid us farewell at the airport and thank You to Thunder city for allowing us to use their facilities . Your support is very encouraging and much appreciated.
Take off was at 10.15am in perfect breathless weather conditions. The Air traffic controllers wished us well and as we headed out over the mountains towards Oudtshoorn. Before Cape Town disappeared behind us I looked back to say goodbye to home and admittedly it did leave a liitle lump in the throat but when I looked forward towards the beautiful clear view of the mountainous semi-desert Karoo, I realised what a great start to the expedition this day had been. The previous day we made arrangements with two British pilots, John and Jim to meet at Oudtshoorn and coincidently we arrived there at exactly the same time. Jim and John have been flying their microlights from Cape Town up to Namibia, Botswana, Zambia, Malawi, Mozambique and are now back on their way to Cape Town. It was great to catch up with them and hear all their stories and exchange experiences. Their web page address is www.microlightadventures.co.uk
On arrival at Oudtshoorn there was a very warm welcome from the flying club who arranged a braai and excellent hospitality for us.
It was fantastic and thank you.
Ricky
Flying time Cape Town to Oudtshoorn 3 hours. Average speed 72 mph. Altitude 7500 feet. Consumption 15 litres per hour. (Mayday,Maday) Comments: We have way too much equipment on board and will have to off load in Port Elizabeth
Dec 17 2003
Oudtshoorn
South Africa
Day 2 After yesterday's fantastic but somewhat chaotic send off, today was taken much easier. Fortunately last night's braai (barbeque) wasn't the late night affair we'd feared and it seems everyone slept very well (including Ricky if his snoring was anything to go by).
A leisurely breakfast was followed by only a single reporter at the airfield and far less distractions as we turned DEJ & DEK back into the stuffed pigs they resemble when fully loaded. And then Mother Nature gave us a gentle reminder of who is actually in control of this expedition. PE Met office reported 30 knots westerly expected to reach gale force by lunch time, so after a very brief consultation we resigned ourselves to a day on the ground and a time to see what we can do to lighten our load and make the little trikes a bit more graceful. Maybe tomorrow's report will include a link to an EBay auction of un-needed microlighting accessories...
Not the best way to spend the centenary of powered flight but hopefully we'll have a chance at 5:35 local time to get airborne and do our bit.
Alan
Flying along the Southern coast to Port Elizabeth
19th December 2003
Day 4
After two relatively easy days flying so far, today felt much more like an expedition. Having had a very pleasant flight into PE from Oudtshoorn, we spent the remainder of Thursday chasing our tails and almost getting everything done by midnight. Departure from PE was a fairly hectic, being squeezed in-between a couple of Boeings by a very accommodating air traffic control.
By 1000ft we realized that tail-winds were on the cards and sat back to enjoy the ride.
Very little stress all the way to Port Alfred but having to stay low through East London, we gradually watched our tail-wind turn to a headwind and our ETA for Durban extend by nearly two hours, unreachable with our fuel load, and having had problems with the in-flight fuel transfer system, resigned ourselves to a landing in Kei Mouth. On the ground we managed to find fuel for both planes and pilots but were informed by Durban met that there was no chance of anything but headwinds. Having infinite optimism and slightly less faith in met people, we took off and having cleared East London's control zone, found 15 knots tailwind at 5000ft - must have been a bad day in the weather office crystal ball department...
Ricky managed to find the coordinates for Cato Ridge in his back-up GPS but at the same time found some problems with his microphone so for the rest of the flight communications were scratchy and broken and just about manageable. Our next challenged came when north of Margate we were confronted by a bank of clouds but through the wonders of SMS were able to confirm that Cato was still open and after 40 minutes of cloud-dodging we were met at Light Flight by friends bearing beer -always a good way to end a flight.
Tomorrow it is on to Nelspruit and our first customs clearance.
Alan
Dec 20 2003
Vryheid
South Africa
December 20 - day 5 I don't think the met office is having much luck with that crystal ball. We got the forecast last night and with mist predicted until 8 or 9 we chose to sleep 'late' and only get to our planes at 8. Sure enough, we were greeted by perfect skies and nothing but good flying weather. With Ricky's mic still giving hassles and an offer to check it out, we decided to delay departure further and make the most of the chance we had to get things 100%. An hour and a half later we finally got our stuff together and by now our 9am take-off was closer to 11 and already in the distance some clouds were starting to build, a sure sign that today' flight wasn't going to be smooth sailing. Right on take-off we were into the thermal and two and a half hours of roller coaster stuff we were over Vryheid with a bank of thunderclouds ahead and signs that the road forward was probably not a wise choice.
The airfield at Vryheid, despite not being listed in the Jeppesen database looked fairly well used and on landing we were met by Ed from the local trike school and before long the rest of the town was summons and much discussion followed about the trikes, the trip and our sanity. The local guys really opened their doors and by 4 pm we conceded that Nelspruit wasn't going to happen and gratefully accepted the offer of accommodation and a braai. (barbeque). Something that has always struck me about flying is the incredible hospitality that the flying community offers. We'd be quite happy to camp out or sleep in a hangar but Ed, like almost every other pilot we've come across, wouldn't hear any of it. On the up side, the weather along the Mozambique coast looks better in two days time so a short flight tomorrow and a day spent regrouping before the border crossing might be a far better option than rushing off.
Alan
Ed’s school at Vryheid
Dec 21 2003
Nelspruit
South Africa
Dec 21 - Day 6
Once again an early start was frustrated by bad weather. We got up as planned at 5am only to find Vryheid under a blanket of mist and nothing to do but enjoy breakfast and take our time getting to the airfield. Ed, our host and local instructor had some students waiting (as only students will when there's not chance of any productive flying) so we chatted for a while before Ed and student got into the circuit and started turning petrol into noise.
A half hour later things were starting to look better and Ed and co returned to say cheers before we kitted up and meandered our way out trying to find the best route north between the paths of low cloud. About an hour out we finally hit a wall of cloud and just outside a place called Commondale found a stretch of dirt road that would double as a landing strip and made our selves comfortable to sit it out.
Sure enough within 30 seconds we were surrounded by locals and, despite the lack of a common language were once again answering the same questions we'd faced so far, except this time we resorted to hand signals and drawings in the sand - actually thinking about it, that might have helped some of the reporters get the facts correct!
Another hour passed before we finally made a plan and contacted Swazi ATC to see about routing through there airspace. They were very accommodating as long as we didn't want to land (probably too much paperwork for a Sunday afternoon) and after changing maps we headed east down the Pongola River valley under much higher clouds and much happier pilots. Some mild concern arose when, after take-off, my fuel consumption showed nearly double the normal, obviously making the route through Swazi (without the paperwork) look doubtful.
After a few nervous minutes of checking systems and awkward turning around to check for things like plumes of smoke, I realised with some embarrassment that I'd just left the fuel boost pump on and was just running the engine very rich.
With fuel consumption restored and the Pongola valley opening up, we suddenly faced the next wall of cloud and landed at Pongola airfield to wait for stuff to clear again. A few minutes later and having gotten confirmation that Nelspruit was in fact open, we once again took to the skies and headed through Swaziland and some more interesting flying. Two hours later Barberton appeared below ad we descended, called Kruger International and got clearance into Nelspruit. Surprisingly calm for all the clouds around we had a very smooth landing and were instantly ushered into a hangar by the very helpful guys from Nelair who also got stuck in and sorted out out Ricky's helmet comms problem.
Alan
Pongola River valley
Dec 21 2003
Hi From Ricky
Things are going well. We are in Nelspruit and should be leaving for Mozambique tomorrow. Yesterday we landed Vryheid due to thunderstorms ahead of us which kept us on the ground for the rest of the day. Ed, the local microlight instructor, took us under his wing for the evening and saw us off early this morning. Today’s flight was interesting as we were forced to land on some track in the mountains due to rain and low cloud. This is one of the advantages of the microlights is that one can land them in tiny areas. The local people and particularly children crowded around the microlights and were very inquisitive.
We later headed east down the Pongola river to lower lying ground and then flew through Swaziland to Nelspruit. The air traffic controller in Swaziland was very accommodating.
Most of the day was flying through rain and turbulence. Not fun and damn hard work for 5 hours. Cheers and hold thumbs for good weather.
Ricky
Dec 22 2003
Nelspruit
South Africa
Day 7 - December 22
With a few errands still to run and our last chance in 'civilisation', the less than favourable met report had us making double sure of everything we wanted to and then just going back over the planes again to ensure they are up to the test they'll undergo over the next few weeks. The day on the ground also gave us a chance to repack for what seems like the hundredth time but in our defense, the whole process is getting better and either we're loosing unneeded stuff or its getting compacted by the turbulence.
Our last task will be a quick call at the local couriers to collect some maps we've ordered and then what should be a two hour flight to Maputo and Mozambique, the first stamp in the passports. Ricky's call to them today in his best Portuguese confirmed our clearances are still in order and weather permitting tomorrow's report should come from under a palm tree (which might also help to explain that updates from now on might at best be sporadic until we clear Africa)
Alan
Dec 23 2003
Inhambane
Mozambique
Day 8 - December 23
What a day! At last the trip feels like it is really underway. Frank and Sandy, our very accommodating hosts in Nelspruit, once again made sure we were well taken care of and by 6:30am we'd collected some maps we'd ordered, packed the trikes and were saying goodbye.
15 minutes later we landed at the new Kruger International and spent the next hour and a half filing flight plans, clearing customs and doing all the other formalities that go with leaving a country.
The two hour flight to Maputo went fairly quickly, possibly because in the back of our minds we knew this is what we'd been preparing for so long. Maputo Airport itself resembles something from the golden age of aviation with its large halls, wood paneling and swaying palms - right out of a 60's Bond movie, just missing a DC-3 or constellation.
Ricky's fluent Portuguese made formalities easy and after a lunch on the veranda we were off again up the coast. And what a coast! One long white beach extending in a gradual arch all the way from Maputo to Inhambane punctuated only by the odd river mouth and fishing village / lodge. All the way up scattered fishing boats, people and even the odd cow.
Due to low level headwinds we climbed to 5000ft and sat back to enjoy the panoramic view of this fascinating country, our destination being either Inhambane or, if the tide and beach permitted, a landing at Barra Reef Resort.
Some four and a half hours later we were circling over the beach trying to decide if the weight we were carrying would permit a beach landing. With more than a bit of apprehension, Ricky touched down and sure enough the sand was just fine. From the air overhead I saw his tracks in the firm sand looking good, followed by a massive spray as he misjudged the waves and ended his landing through an inch of water. Fortunately it was nothing more than entertainment and some salt to wash off.
I followed him in, carefully avoiding the water and after much discussion we managed to secure the trikes and find some cold beer. Half way through the evening we were approached by the guard to inform us that tonight is spring tide and that, should the swell be big, we might have the trikes wheels washed! After a careful check out, we decided that the trikes would be fine and the guard volunteered to call us if things looked bad. Now we'll just have to wait and see.
Alan
Barra Reef Resort
Dec 24 2003
Vilankulos
Mozambique
Day 9 - December 24 Christmas eve, well the morning of Christmas eve dawned slightly rough and bright after meeting maybe just one too many Manica's, the local beer that by the third one tastes less like dish water and more like more... We were very relieved also to find that spring tide hadn't gotten to our trikes and apart from dusting off some sand, all was well. The daily routine of loading the kitchen sink seems to be getting easier as we get rid of the little odds and ends that start to seem less important and by 9am we'd said our farewells to the others who probably shared our roughness from the night before.
We taxied back down the beach and with just enough fuel to make it to Vilankulos, we were off the beach with ease and heading over the azure water of the Inhambane bay and its scattered dhows, spreading their nets for the day's catch. We'd flown long the day before and with barely enough fuel for the next leg, we chose to climb in search of the tailwinds we'd found the day before. Sure enough, at 5500 ft we found what we were looking for and got to sit back once again and enjoy the scenery.
Rather than just track down the coast we decided to fly straight to Vilankulos, passing about 5 miles inland and a chance to see a bit of the rural settlements. What is really surprising is the seeming order of the agriculture. Neatly arranged fields turn the landscape into a patchwork of greens and browns and the characteristic palm huts dot the countryside. About 20 miles out from Vilankulos the land turns to swamp at the Lago Manhale, signaling the start of our descent. Understanding the air traffic controller's accent is always a challenge but their patience is admirable and without too much confusion we lined up on finals and landed with a little over 10 liters of fuel remaining thanks to the high level tailwinds.
Vilankulos is as typical an African town as you can get with roads varying from poor to sand, and the constant battle between livestock, children and trucks for a piece of the action. Vehicles stand next to the road where some time ago they broke down, still waiting for long forgotten spares to arrive. Wherever you look, though, there seems to be a sense of action and on the side of every neatly lined street you can buy anything from soap powder to hand-made mattresses. Something that will stay with me for a long time is the friendliness of the Mozambique people. Nothing is too much trouble and things get done without the expectation of payment.
A walk on the beach later in the day turned into quite an education when we stopped to watch an elderly man building a boat. He took time out to show us how every detail was accomplished and the precision he achieved without plans or even a straight edge is quite remarkable. Our walk took us to AB's Pub, where AB, the owner (funnily enough) is hard to distinguish from the clientele and makes it known that he's doing you a favour by getting up to serve. He got out the rat-race a few years back and decided to open the pub when the other local pub wouldn't serve him late one night.
Our evening at Vilankulos Beach Lodge has been superb with the gentle sea breeze keeping the mosquitoes at bay and food to rival the best - especially the prawns. After last night's rough end, we're both taking things easy and will hopefully see Christmas in smoothly.
Merry Christmas!!!!
Alan
Dec 24 2003
Vilankulos
Hi from Ricky
Since we last communicated we were in Vryheid. 21st Dec. We flew northwards aiming for Nelspruit. It was terrible weather. The cloud was touching the tops of the surrounding hills with occasional rain. I was not wearing a helmet due to a damaged wire in the helmet and flying in the open rain is like having lots of darts hitting you.
Alan had arranged to meet his girlfriend in Nelspruit so there was a certain determination to get there. We eventually flew down the Pongola river to lower lying ground so we could see under the cloud. We then headed north through Swaziland. The rest of the flight was spent with Alan and I dodging rain. It was not pleasant.
22nd Dec. Was spent rearranging the microlight as the wind was blowing very strong in Maputo.
23rd Dec we left Nelspruit for Mozambique in near perfect weather. Arrived in Maputo the first foreign country of the expedition. My very rusty limited Portuguese came into great use. A local helped us through customs etc and it all went well. It was a reminder of how friendly and accommodating the Mozambiquen people are.
We filled up with fuel and headed north to Bazaruto Camp near Inhambane. It was a great resort filled with half of Gauteng on holiday.
24th Dec Today we arrived in Vilankulo a small Mozambiquen village halfway between Maputo and Beira. We spent a fair amount of time faffing to get petrol to the microlights but it was fascinating traveling through the village seeing how life functions in this area. This is life at it's simplest.
We went for a walk down the long beach towards the village. It was like taking a side corridor in the passage of life. Today was spring tide so it was very low when the tide was out and all the dhows were out capitalizing on it by gathering oysters off the reefs. Many of these dhows were offloading along the beach with the women walking into the water to carry the buckets of oysters to the shore where they sat among large mounds of old shells removing the fresh oysters from the shells. They offered to sell us pearls found in some. Further down the beach we stopped and spoke to some men building wooden boats. It is fascinating to see how they bend and form the timber to create the shape of the hull and how they waterproof the joins of the timber planks. The man in charge of the process spoke a bit of English and keenly explained the different stages of building the boats. He went on to explain that it was a trade that he learnt from his father and they have great demand for boats and repairs in the area.
Further down we walked off the beach onto a road where as luck would have it there was A.B's Pub. It is an old building slightly renovated but still with all the old colonial character. The cold beer enticed us in and we chatted to A.B. He had been a successful businessman in South Africa and decided to get out of the rat race and go sailing. His yacht went aground in the area and he then set up the pub and hoped that only a few of the "Strangero's" (Portuguese word used by the Mozambiquens meaning "Strangers") in the area would frequent it but ofcourse all the tourists spend time there and now he has to work hard all over again. Shame poor AB. The rest of the day was spent enjoying the perfect African environment.
Cheers.
Ricky
Dec 25 2003
Quelimane
Mozambique
Day 10 - December 25 Happy Christmas! And as traditional Christmas's go, this wasn't one.
Taking advantage of the hospitality at Vilankulos Beach Lodge, we took a leisurely breakfast followed by an interesting drive through town to change some money. Being Christmas, the regular shops were closed and we had to make use of one of the street side vendors. Fortunately the police were either too hungover or taken care of and didn't even bat an eye-lid at what was probably not strictly within the law.
Back at the airport everything was as we left it and Afonso, our driver, lent a hand unloading the luggage and fuel and making sure we were ready to go. While we were packing, two planes from Bazaruto Island landed with some fellow South Africans just down for a getaway at the coast - always nice to meet fellow travelers and share a few quick stories.
The flight once again consisted of climbing to 5500 ft, over the constant north easterlies and just enjoying the incredible scenery. North of Vilankulos numerous rivers run into the sea, bringing with them silt that turns the water from blue to brown along the shore edge. An amazing sight is the seemingly never ending population. Even on Island completely isolated from the mainland, every bit of land seems to be worked and in some cases the palm plantations run for tens of kilometers in straight lines, as if planted by some higher being.
Approaching Beira we needed to clear the control zone and for about half an hour flew well over 10km out to sea. Our faith in the Rotax's has obviously reached the point where a major sea crossing is on the cards. And then, as some kind of karmic reminder, Ricky come over the radio reporting that his engine had just possibly missed, but wasn't sure if it was the engine or just some weird turbulence. A few minutes later he thought he'd had another miss and just for safety we closed formation and kept a close eye on each other. For the rest of the trip both engines ran like clockwork and for want of a better explanation, we ascribed the miss to some condensation in the fuel.
An hour after Beira, the mouth of the Zambezi came into sight - a massive delta intruding into the sea from centuries of silt deposits. The delta is a fascinating network of islands and channels and habitation wherever the tidal waters don't reach.
Overhead Chinde we spotted an old runway and after 5 hours in the saddle we both didn't hesitate to drop down and land to check on the fuel, bladder and butt-fatigue.
In true African fashion, no sooner had the wheels touched down than the crowd gathered. First to arrive were the children, keeping a fair distance, followed shortly by the younger men and finally the village elders. By the time we'd finished checking fuel, a crowd of a few hundred were standing around with many more on the way down the road. Ricky's grasp of the lingo once again relieved the stand-off and getting the crowd back for start up proved to be the only challenge.
Children of Africa
Chinde itself obviously servers as a trading port and after take-off we got a chance to see the modern barge with its new crane, waiting for one yet to arrive cargo, while upstream the remains of countless predecessors lay in various states of decay either at the water line or slightly below. From Chinde we headed inland for Quelimane, the scenery still being mainly long lines of palm trees punctuated only by the odd settlement. An hour later we came in for landing at Quelimane. The airport here is quite amazing. What appears outwardly almost intimidating is clearly a throw-back to a time when huge Russian or Portuguese transporters and passenger planes landed daily and Quelimane was some sort of boom town. Now, although outwardly maintained, things have quietened down and apart from the lights, nothing much works.
We've parked the trikes tight up against the main entrance gate and pitched our tents under the wings on what was once the arrivals terrace. Our only company being a security guard and a couple of derelict aircraft, destined to die an undignified death far from their former glory.
Right now we're finishing this most un-traditional or Christmas's in the airport canteen, raising a few Mac-Mahon (2M) beers and sharing our vision of another stunning day under African Skies -
Bouas Festestas
Alan
Dec 25 2003
Quilemane
Hi from Ricky
Happy Christmas Everybody and in particular to my darling daughter Natasha. Hopefully you have all had as great a day as we have.
Nothing in particular took place other than we had yet another day of fantastic and interesting flying through Mozambique. We lethargically left Vilankulos this morning overloaded with fuel as the next leg North to Quelimane was long and desperately remote. . We flew out of Vilankulos with the stunnng view of the Bazaruto Islands and baby blue clear sea water below. A brilliant environment to spent a few lazy hours in a flimsy garden chair with a wing above it for shade. If one was happy to sit there long enough without time as a task master you would notice that the scenery changed. But how could it get better? It doesn't get better, it gets more interesting.
Mozambique Coast
We were flying along complacently, everything in control at 5500 feet with wind in our favour, until my engine jolted which was closely followed by preferably unmentioned movements.
Well! This forced us to continuously be searching for landing areas. These trikes can land in tiny areas, so one looks at details. What a fascinating world down there. We crossed over areas that seemed desolate and inaccessible yet it had lots of thatched huts and farming activity. This area is where the great Zambezi river meets the sea with it's many deltas and islands. On each island is a hive of farming activity and people. Some of the coconut plantations go on for 10km or more. Nothing particularly impressive but try and workout how they harvest these with no machines, no roads and no communications etc. An occasional half sunken barge or ship and dilapidated keys were indicators of how successful the area was and it's amazing potential.
We ferreted out a possible landing strip on an island that seemed to have a village and landed on it, much to the approval of the several hundred locals. We transferred fuel and checked all possible faults with the engine while I tried to speak my best Portuguese to explain what we were doing. Shame! They are probably still confused. Oh! Well. If you were a child who lived in the outback of Africa would you let this effect you impression of father Christmas and his sleigh? Obvoiusly you are not in the outback of Africa.
We flew on to Quelimane where we are camping at the non-existent airport, being influenced by the Mozambiquen brewery to write this description of an average days events of this little expedition.
Cheers
Ricky
PS. Incase it was not obvious, all is welllllll.
Dec 26 2003
Mozambicue Island
Day 11 - December 26 Today had much more to do with Africa than flying. Don't get me wrong, the flying was excellent - the same tail winds at 5500 ft despite headwinds on the ground, the same incredible coast line with the water once again every shade of blue and added to all of this the stunning coral island just a few kilometers off shore, too numerous to name and each one a unique shape, colour and size but all bordered with a brilliant border of white beach. The temptation to just forget about this trip, find an uninhabited one and spend a year or ten just sitting under a palm tree, stressing only about what fish would be for dinner and when we'd have to hide from the next search team...
But what made today special was our final destination - from miles off it became visible, a tiny island, just a few kilometers long joined to the mainland by a single fine line that as we approached grew into a 3.5 km long bridge joining Mozambicue Island to Lumbo.
Circling overhead we could easily make out the five pointed castle, built long before anyone settled at the Cape, century old villas, the magnificent old hospital and town square, churches and parks fit for a king, and people, tens of thousands of people who, since the end of the colonial days, have invaded the island and made it home. But before we explored the island, we'd have to survive landing at Lumbo.
The airfield shows signs of better days but the strip itself is serviceable and the airport manager's building is immaculately taken care of by Mr. Pinto, a true gentleman who views the upkeep of the facilities as his personal crusade. Our arrival does not go unnoticed and before we can even secure the planes we are swamped by thousands of locals, from toddlers to the elders, all jockeying for the best spot to view these strange visitors. Everyone is exceptionally well behaved but despite our attempts to keep them back the pressure is just too much and we end up with no room to even move. Our only hope to team up and secure the planes one at a time and even then we trip and stumble our way around, stepping on toes and drawing cheers from the crowd each time we forced to virtually climb over the front row of kids.
Mr. Pinto's best efforts don't even help but soon enough the planes are secured, security is arranged and we're off on the back of a pickup over the bridge to Mozambique Island. With sunset nearly on us, we take a quick drive around the island, secure some petrol and are lucky enough to find space at Casa Branca, a restored old house overlooking the eastern shore with high timber ceilings and walls over a meter thick that is a welcome relief from the heat.
Having not had facilities for two days, the shower, despite being no more than a slow drip, provides just the refreshment needed and we're soon negotiating our way through the narrow, dimly lit streets to a restaurant we'd seen earlier. On route we get offered everything from shell necklaces to someone's sister but having not eaten all day, we decline all offers.
The restaurant has a great selection of, what else?, fresh fish but when they arrive, head, tail and all, Ricky looked a bit green - clearly not prepared by Woolworths, but they tasted great and after a few beers and a long chat to the owner, we head back and fall asleep to the sounds of children still playing soccer, a disco down the road and waves lapping just across the street from the guest house's front door.
We agree not to rush tomorrow morning and rather spend some time just looking around.
Alan
Dec 27 2003
Pemba
Mozambique
Day 12 - December 27
After a great night's sleep, we're both up and about shortly after 6 and were surprised to find coffee and rolls ready for breakfast. Mozambique Island is difficult to try to explain. If not for the people, I guess it could just as easily be somewhere in the Algarve in Portugal or on some Mediterranean Island with its history dating back to 1498 and its building having that quality that has you stopping and staring, even at the ones that have seen much better days. The streets and parks are laid out with every detail from the patterned pavements to the sculptured lamp posts showing an era when people valued pride over money and time was measured in terms of seasons rather than seconds.
And in contrast to this all is the absolute poverty of the locals that now inhabit the island. According to Mr. Pinto, during the Mozambique war the layout of the island provided great security (probably for the same reason it served as the original capital before Maputo) and was invaded by people fleeing the conflict. After the war it was obviously too much effort to cross the bridge back to the mainland and what has resulted is the most desperate over-crowding in probably the whole of Mozambique.
Despite this though, the people seem genuinely happy and walking through the winding streets feels safe and everyone greets you with the same friendliness we'd seen further south in the villages. Something that does take some getting used to is the smell that results from a combination of non-existent plumbing, garbage that obviously gets collected later, an island surviving off fishing and what must be mango season... The fish market is particularly striking and to think that people actually buy (and presumably eat) whatever lies under the blanket of flies is disturbing to say the least. The island also has a rather strange custom of overcoming the sewage problem too, by merely taking matters down to the beach in great numbers at low tide!
Fisherman’s Nets
We wonder the streets for a couple of hours, stopping only occasionally to escape the heat and rehydrate with gallons of cold Coke. Looking back now the whole place seems almost like some kind of dream that just makes you want to spend a few more minutes to see what's around the next corner.
All too soon we're back at the airport, Ricky's 'discussing' the fair with our taxi driver in Portuguese and Mr. Pinto is signing the atlas we've brought along for people to add comments in (when we remember!) What he writes is so true 'Mozambique Island - once visited, always returned'
Once again we climb to the tailwinds and follow the winding coast up to Pemba, crossing coral reefs in every shade of blue and glancing inland at the ever present afternoon thunderstorms and reminding ourselves that after Zanzibar, we'll be leaving the coast and sleeping late will no longer be an option.
Pemba itself is set on a peninsula at the edge of a huge inlet and has more of a big city vibe than what we've seen to now. We're even accosted by beggars and once again opt to pay for a guard to watch the planes. Tonight's our last night in Mozambique but the memories of this place will stay with me for a long time and I think that I agree with Mr. Pinto's sentiment.
Alan
Dec 28 2003
Mtwara
Tanzania
Day 13 - December 28
We awoke at the regular hour of somewhere after sunrise and readied ourselves for the 7 am taxi that failed to arrive. This resulted in us getting to the airport an hour late by which time the temperatures were back into the upper 30's. This heat is really getting to us and even drinking gallons of water doesn't help the dwindling energy levels.
Fortunately there were no hiccups and the very friendly ATC at Pemba even wished us well as we took off. The coast all the way up to the border is once again dotted with thousands of little, and some not so little, coral islands. All along their shores life abounds with paths leading down from the villages to beaches where dhows come and go as they've done for centuries. With the never ending heat its understandable why people seek out a life on the edge of the water.
Just inland of our flight path huge cumulus clouds towered into the sky and on at least one occasion we had to route out over the sea to avoid a heavy downpour. The prospect of heading inland is looking fairly daunting and we'll probably have to way up the odds and get our timing right as we progress further north.
Finally, after about three hours of flying, we cross the Tanzanian border, get an hour older and are welcomed into the sky by a very friendly and understandable ATC from the Mtwara tower. He guides us in after a regional liner and everyone on the ground is extremely friendly and helpful.
The ATC, Rachid, turns out to be an absolute godsend and having learned his trade in Europe, not only has heaps of stories to tell but also takes care of everything from transport to accommodation and offers to join us later to find out more about our trip. We've checked into the Mtwara Peninsula hotel which is very basic but clean and, best of all, has air-conditioning!
With Rachid's help tomorrow, we should get clearance into Zanzibar where we'll take a few days off and take in the sights, relax and maybe get some washing done.
Alan
Dec 28 2003
Mtwara
Hi from Ricky
The weather so far has been good to us along the coast. Generally it has been blowing about 15 knots from the North East which is a head wind but it only blows in this direction for the first 3000 to 4000 feet. Each day we have climbed above it and found a tail wind between 5000 to 7000 feet. Above the lower wind is a murky inversion layer which looks pretty much like the smog that hangs around the city on a windless day. Above this layer it crystal clear for about 500 feet and then another murky layer above it. Inside this clear layer is where we have found these great tail winds and hitches a ride to the next destination. Today was one of those days of hitching a ride. It was blowing 20 knots head wind yet we had a 6 to 8 knot tail wind which made it a reasonably fast and great flight.
There has also been massive and dramatic cumulus cloud formations which stops just at the coast so we have been flying along side these impressive clouds without even being effected by the down draft or turbulence normally related with these formations. Maybe some meteorological guru has some explanation for this.
Enough mumbling about weather. Let me rather tell you of the amazing introduction to Tanzania. We have arrived in Tanzania in a small town called Mtwara. It is on the coast about 125km North of he Mozambique border. The Mtwara air traffic controller (ATC) was very pleasant and spoke brilliant English which was a relief after a week of struggling to understand all the Mozambiquen ATC's instructions. After landing we were confronted by extremely friendly ground handling and passport control officials who also spoke good English. This was a relief for Alan as now he could understand what was going on and not be in the dark about the hand waving discussions and arguments in broken Portuguese with officials. (Tie a Portgie or Italians hands behind their back and they won't be able to speak). We were so warmly welcomed by everyone including an SAA airlink pilot who had just landed in front of us. He flies these little microlights back in South Africa. He reckons it is real flying compared to the big planes he flies during the week.
We were asked to go up to the tower which normally means trouble but we suspected that this was not the case. We met the controller Rashid who was keen to chat to us as he had heard about our trip and wanted to welcome us to Tanzania. We chatted a bit and asked him if he could help us with Zanzibar. We have to get special permission to fly to Zanzibar and he got onto it immediately as he is the chief of civil aviation here. We should get it sorted out tomorrow morning.
This is not where it ends. Rashid then takes us into town to a small reasonably priced hotel. Along the way I mentioned about his good English and he explained that he did his ATC training in Copenhagen. Denmark had a development program that he got onto and had spent a year there training and had traveled around Europe. He is 34, enjoys traveling and hence keen to chat. He is working on getting onto another training course for Air Traffic and Navigation Services management in Johannesburg because then he will go back to Dar Es Salaam but not just as a traffic controller but in a management role. In this tiny little villiage and airport is this well spoken, dynamic and ambitious character who wants to go places. Its great meeting people like this.
For now it is cheers until Zanzibar.
Ricky
Dec 29 2003
Kilwa
Tanzania
Day 14 - December 29
Not too much out of the ordinary from the flying side. From the paying side, well that's another story. Tanzania's friendly and super efficient air traffic control certainly comes at a price! But at least they do it with a smile and after all, we can live on bread and water...
Before take-off from Mtwara, we meet a flight from Kilwa and at their insistence decide to route there instead of direct to Zanzibar which will give us a chance to unwind and work off the cash-separation anxiety that seems to be going around.
At flight level 65 (6500ft) we find the tailwinds and it is back to watching mile after mile of long crescent beaches punctuated by the odd river or rocky cape. After just under two hours Kilwa appears under the broken clouds below us and we descend onto the dirt strip, negotiate for security for the planes and are met by Alan (great name!), Kilwa Ruin Lodge manager, who arranges for our transfer to the lodge and a very comfortable tented room. We also meet Ali the barman who takes care of the rehydration process and are soon sitting in the shade, meeting the locals and just relaxing.
Kilwa is a world heritage site containing the ruins of a city dating back o the 13th century. Sadly we won't have time to arrange the permits to explore at ground level but will get a good look from the air as we head off tomorrow.
The town sits on a magnificent bay, with an island right in the center and warm blue water lying off to the horizon. The lodge itself is a haven for fishermen and this evening's starter was wafer thin tuna fillets cooked just about off the boat - a clear indication that the kitchen staff know their job as well a the boat staff!
Alan
Dec 29 2003
Hi From Ricky
26th Dec Left Quilemane after technical delays with my helmet. Some African is going to be receiving a useless belated Christmas present if the damn thing continues to give trouble. Headed out to Lumbo, which is a landing strip on the main land next to Mocambique Island. (No! I have not spelt it wrong.) It is a small island that Portuguese discovered in 1498 and later occupied. It was used as their trading post with the east and later became the capital of Mozambique.
It has an amazing atmosphere with all the old buildings and avenues. There are lots of people who live on the island with minimal, if any facilities but they are friendly and very polite. It is a highly recommended spot to visit for those who can tolerate the basics for a day or two.
We arrived there and were greeted by Mr Pinto the airports manager who I had met on a previous trip. As a result he knew what we needed and had us organized in minutes, buying petrol, organizing a policeman to guard the planes and doing the tour of the island.
27th Dec We headed out to Pemba which was only 2.5 hour flight. The officials were very helpful and even cleared our passports for tomorrow. This is the great part about Africa. The flexibility of the rules (if any).
Tomorrow it is off to Mtwara in Tanzania. Managed to get to an internet cafe in Pemba and spent an hour trying to catch up on emails and web. Thank you to all who have emailed us it is appreciated. Please accept our apologies if we do not reply but it is very time consuming dealing with the emails through the web page mailing system. Also thanks a million, million for the messages on the web notice board. it is incredibly encouraging.
Today I was feeling tired and dehydrated and generally grumpy until I read all the messages. It is very inspiring and hence here we are typing away.
Just some back ground stuff so you can relate to what we are up to. The mornings usually start before 6am with whatever is edible if anything at all. It is already over 30 degrees at that time. No water available so we land up drinking over 3litres of Coke Cola per day. Supper then consists of anything that will not cause a bad stomach which in these parts does not leave much available. We are both already getting a little leaner which is a bit of a concern. We also do adjustments and repairs to the microlights and equipment, deal with authorities and constant pestering from locals. Follow up on embassies, flight clearances, changing money, bank accounts etc. You may have notice no mention of washing, well lets just say that we are behind on that and don't often walk behind each other either. We are getting into the swing of things and are becoming more efficient each day.
Cheers.
Ricky
PS. Missing everyone back home already.
Dec 30 2003
Zanzibar
Day 15 - December 30 Kilwa was no cooler than the rest of the route so far. By 8 am we'd dragged ourselves down to the breakfast table and could see on the faces of the other guests that they were also feeling the heat. Even the timid stray cats that seem to appear and disappear from nowhere were lying about lethargically, hardly raising a whisker when approached. But we had flying to do and with Zanzibar as the destination, after a much needed breakfast, we arranged some fuel from the lodge and made our way up the winding, duty track that leads up to the airfield.
The guard appeared from the shade of a small tree with a huge grin, ensuring that all was fine. Having settled with him, we face the daunting task of first pre-flighting and then donning the thermal flying suit that while.murderous on the ground, is much needed once we get to altitude where the temperature drops to the low teens. The take-off from Kilwa's gravel strip presents a magnificent contrast. From the ground all that is visible is the hundreds of palm and other trees, all fairly dusty from the lack of rain but as the planes leave the ground, a 270 degree panorama of blue from the darkest out to sea to the ever changing shades within the Kilwa estuary.
The estuary is almost 20 miles across with the Kilwa Masoko Island and its centuries old ruins filling most of the center. As we take off, we turn out over the island and get a rather privileged view of world heritage site. From the air it’s easy to make out the old palace, the mosques, forts and other buildings and it doesn't take much imagination to picture it at its prime, gold and slave traders jockeying for deals on the streets and a sea of people, not unlike in some of the present day towns we've flown over.
We finish our departure with a low flypast over Trinity, the lodge's marlin boat as she makes her way out to sea and then sit back and commence a climb to find favorable winds. We find them at 6000ft but have to continue up to 8500 ft to clear the scattered clouds and all the way to Dar es Salaam we have to weave between the columns of clouds that raise skywards on each massive thermal.
En route we pass over the Rufiji delta, a 25 mile stretch of mangroves, winding rivers and swampland. Over centuries the river has grown its mouth with each deposit of flood silt forcing a huge pregnant bulge many miles out to sea in a mixture of green and brown. Small settlements dot the river banks and the ever-present dhows find their ways between the reed banks. The lazy winding patterns of the river giving some indication as to the pace of life on the ground. Routing over Dar es Salaam we encounter our first real air traffic since leaving home and the mixtures of accents over the radio makes for some challenging communications. Dar itself pours out in every direction from the harbour and city center in a typical big city manner eventually fading into the hazy smog from 8500 ft. In downtown Dar we can even make out the cars in a bumper to bumper lunch time traffic jam. Ah, the joys of flying above all of that!
From Dar we route out straight over the ocean, our first descent crossing of the trip to a patch of cloud on the horizon under which, with a bit of luck and faith in the GPS, we should find Zanzibar. At this point we also realise that the life jackets aren't going to be too much use safely stowed deep under the seat somewhere. Still its only 36 miles and the whole stretch is littered with ships of every description. Just off the mainland the water turns a deep uniform blue giving way only occasionally to luminescent light blue and turquoise patches where coral reefs reach up from the depths in the hope of forming more atolls in time for the next millenium. Below ferries race to take tourists and locals to and from the island, leaving long white wakes as the only proof of where they've been.
From under the clouds we catch the first glimpse of the white beaches and lush green island and have to start preparing for the landing. We route to allow two faster planes to land and then turn finals with the knowledge that once on the ground we'll forget the planes for a day or two and just make like all the other tourists. More expensive formalities out the way, a taxi ride gets us into the heart of Stone Town where we find what will pass for accommodation and set out to explore this magical place and all it has to offer. We finish the day on the deck of Africa House watching the tourists watching the sunset, meeting new friends and getting the lowdown on where New Years would best be spent. Tomorrow we'll head north in the hope of finding some accommodation and getting our heads right for the next stretch.
Alan
Jan 3 2004
Moshi
Tanzania
Day 19 - Jan 3, 2004
In case you thought we'd fallen in the sea or been abducted by pirates, fear not. Zanzibar just takes a bit of getting away from and before you know it, its a new year and decisions have to be made. Our main one was whether to head for Mombasa, sticking to the coast and living in denial about heading inland, or taking the bull by the horns and sticking to the original plan.
A few beers more on the roof of Africa House watching the sunset lead to a chance meeting with a tour group who'd just returned from the Serengeti. They insisted that the weather had been great and the only clouds had been on the coast. Having given up on the professional weather people, this sounded about as good advice as we could expect so at the crack of dawn we somehow managed to find a taxi driver who was too tired to haggle and got to the airport at a good price and at the right time.
Formalities were quickly completed and in no time we were climbing past clouds and preparing for the stretch to the mainland. Our route took us straight over Stone Town and looking down on the tangle of streets made our failed attempts at navigating the place somehow forgivable. With the sun just bringing light to the world below we could make out the start of what would no doubt be another day in paradise.
Once at cruise altitude, clouds obscured much of the way across the sea which in some ways made it less taxing on the mind. Even in the early light, holes through the clouds were filled with every shade of blue and the small sailing dhows could be seen either making an early start or heading back after a long night.
By 7:30 we were back over land and pleasantly surprised to find the path inland open and apart from some morning mist still burning off, everything looked clear. We picked up the main road that would lead us to Moshi for the best view of Kilimanjaro and then across to Arusha where we hoped to spend the night. From about 80 miles out we caught the first glimpses of Kili's ice cap, its magnificent white towering above the ever-present layer of cloud around its base. And of course as we got closer, the clouds at the base started to build in huge columns that soon dwarfed the mountain itself, leaving us little choice but to land at Moshi and hope for the best. The best arrived in the form of Dr Thomas, who not only had a passion for flying but was also building his own plane in a hangar that easily swallowed the trikes.
But before all this happened we had some fun and games when the self-inflating crowd that we've now grown to expect, was unceremoniously dispersed by the fire chief, who's job we assumed was to keep the airfield clear of anyone not directly involved in aviation, something the rapidly disappearing fence clearly can no longer do. He also turned out to be our Askari for the evening, despite a well locked gate.
Having seen our wallets taking a serious beating in Zanzibar, it was almost in disbelief that we accepted Dr Thomas's invitation to spend the evening at his house. His generosity extended to a delicious meal out and an evening of swapping flying stories and scrounging for advice on the route ahead. An evening spent in the company of such a great family who just opening their home to us has had an amazing effect on our spirits. I guess being to bachelors we're not likely to admit it but having Marian, Thomas's wife, show concern in the morning like only a mother can and make sure we had something to eat, made it more of a home away from home. I'm sure that we'll meet more people like this along the way, but to find them out here were we never have guessed it, just adds the magic that is Africa.
Thomas's advice on the route sounds fantastic and if weather permits we should be flying past pink lakes and live volcanoes before taking in the spectacular Serengeti.
Alan
Jan 4 2004
Mwanza
Tanzania
Day 20 - Jan 4
Morning broke long before sunrise with Ricky's alarm going off half an hour early but soon enough our hosts had us full of breakfast and at the planes ready to go. Our hope of seeing Kili in its full extent was marred by a layer of low cloud but with sun breaking through in patches, we clung to a hope of a post take-off glimpse.
Having thanked Thomas and Marian and said our good byes, we finished the warm-up procedure and were relieved to find that our departure hadn't attracted too many locals. After take-off we turned west and skirted to clouds at the base of Kili, waiting for a break and a chance to climb above and see Kili in the morning light.
The break came but sadly as we climbed through, what met us was a shroud of cloud still clinging all the way up and our only conciliation was that we weren't in the shoes of the climbers who'd summit in the early light and see nothing but a wall of cloud instead of the best view in Africa. As we flew off, every now and then a break in the clouds would reveal just enough to make us want to see more, almost as if in some show of power.
From Kili we planned to climb to over 10000ft and get a bird's eye view of Eldunye Langay, which despite almost certainly being spelled wrong, is an active volcano about 60 miles west of Kili. Our route took us over miles of rural settlements, the traditional kraals scattered everywhere, with the livestock surrounded by first the chief's hut and then a hut for each of his wives. Rounding one of the lower hills, we suddenly confronted by Eldunye, standing like some strangely eroded pyramid, a sentinel to the Great Rift Valley. All around its base smaller craters stood like failed attempts at greatness and spilling from the cater, the clouds were stained yellow from the gasses still being emitted. The northern face of the mountain stands out white in contrast to the rest, obviously the result of some form of mud-slide or other deposit.
Reaching the crater with our load took some time but was made worthwhile but glimpses through the misty clouds of a strange mars-like landscape with white chimneys and mini-craters surrounded by strange erosion and no apparent life. From the crater we could see south and west, towards firstly the Ngorogoro Crater and then in the distance, the flatness of the Serengeti.
Staying at our sub-orbital altitude, we headed south down the mountain range that, under clouds in the distance, would end in the Ngorogoro Crater, a massive depression over 20 km wide and thousands of feet deep. As we approached along the western ridge we were relieved to see that the clouds were limited to the east and the sight of this world isolated by impenetrable cliffs brought to mind a Jules Vernes novel. It would come as no surprise to look down on a dinosaur or catch a glimpse of a pterodactyl circling overhead. The conditions within the crater were so calm that the lake in the southern section produced a perfect reflection of the adjacent cliffs. At this point I think the senses were going into overdrive.
Turning west from the crater we were met by the magnificence of the Serengeti. To describe the splendor of the expanse would be take more than words or pictures. The sensation is best described as humbling. From the east it starts as a dry brown with scattered waterholes and not much life but fade, almost too subtly to notice through to a dark green in the west with every imaginable shade in between. And as the colour changes, so too does the wildlife.
From our slowly decreasing altitude, the first life we could discern were the elephants, scattered in some place while in groups around trees or water holes in others. As we descended further and got closer to the green, the wildebeest numbers started to increase. Although not migrating, they were moving in long lines, often many hundred strong to or from the water which judging by the vegetation must have been in good supply.
Following Thomas's advice, we landed at Lake Ndunya to transfer fuel and standing on the true bush strip, surrounded by thorn trees and animal sounds, we couldn't help but feel that somewhere out there, there might be a big cat that might just fancy a Smurf-like aviator for lunch. We kept a sharp look out while finishing the transfer but saw nothing but a few giraffes and a zebra or two.
On take-off the giraffes were still grazing at the edge of the runway but hardly even looked up as these strange birds took flight. The rest of the flight to Mwanza was spent at 2000 ft above ground with the best in-flight entertainment available on this planet. Game of every description passed silently below while on every thermal at least one bird of prey circled lazily, taking for granted the view that had us spellbound.
Over some divide below the park gave way to rural agriculture and far too soon the park was disappearing into the haze behind us. But like some cosmic infomercial, there was more. Out front the land soon gave way to the waters of Lake Victoria and right on the banks was Mwanza, our destination for the day. Circling in to land we could see the lake running off way over the horizon and on the banks the same type fishing communities we'd seen only days ago on the coast.
Our landing was uneventful and once again, out of the crowd came a smiling face with an interest in flying and an offer of accommodation. This time in the person of Thiery, a local charter pilot who is also rebuilding a trike. Once again a home was opened to us and we got to take in a healthy dose of the local town and customs. If nothing else, this trip will instill a deep appreciation for small comforts.
Alan
Jan 5 2004
Kisumu. Kenya
Day 21 - Jan 5 Maybe we're growing accustomed to maybe things, but doing a pre-flight while chatting to a guard with an AK-47 slung casually over his shoulder certainly isn't one of them. Then again taking off from a runway that has an apron full of moth-balled MIGS and an anti-aircraft battery also seems rather odd - especially in a country where the people are so genuinely friendly and a smile is all that separates a stranger from a life-long friend. But this is Africa and no one said anything about this being either easy or normal!
The formalities out the way, the ATC wished us well and we climbed out of Mwanza and straight over a rather nervous 30 km stretch of Lake Victoria before making land again and sitting back in a rather depressing headwind and being thankful for the extra 10 liters of AVGAS we topped up with before take-off. All along the banks of Lake Vic the daily lives once again revolve around fishing and apart from the colour of the lake, it could just as well be anywhere back at the coast. Even remote islands are inhabited and dhows, just like those a thousand kilometers away, ply their trade in every corner of the lake. Larger settlements show signs of modern life but for the most part everywhere we look is either lake or a tapestry of agriculture. With very little to do but gaze out over the land, the mind begins to wonder, often imagining what the folks back home are doing or running through the route ahead and forging imaginary problems and trying to overcome them. I was jolted from one such day-dream by three eagles, diving right past my wing in what must have been some display of territorialism. No sooner had they dived past than they vanished into the landscape leaving me to wonder if I'd actually seen anything.
Our approach to Kisumu was very amusing over the radio as the controller tried to establish what sort of aircraft would take and hour and a half for what normally took 15 minutes. Kisumu itself sits on the northern side of a large bay with 20 km of water to the south, making the last half hour as interesting as our first this morning. On finals the controller's obvious excitement could be heard in his voice and after touchdown he declared that we had made history with our flying motorcycles being the first in Kisumu.
In the friendliness stakes, Kenya so far takes the cake. We hardly had time to take our headsets off when everyone who was anyone at the airport came over to introduce themselves and ask if we needed any help. What could have taken ten minutes eventually took the entire afternoon as between tying down, refueling and preparing for tomorrow we answered questions, told jokes and just shared life stories.
When it came time to eat, the proprietor of the airport cafe invited us to join him and over a delicious Nile perch (when in Rome...) he told us of the local tradition of polygamy and how each wife had to have her own home. I explained that monogamy through divorce shared much the same pitfall! And then something happened that left us both feeling rather humble but immensely inspired. The customs official came over to our table and suggested we see what else Kisumu had to offer. Not knowing what to expect, we were led to a rather modest little craft shop, just outside the main terminal building and introduced to a very petit lady sitting industriously behind a desk. Caroline Agwanda, despite being disabled, had started about five years ago by making jewelry out of hyacinth weed and through hard work had created an industry, training other disabled ladies to perfect their crafts with everything from wire crafts to leather work and traditional clothes making.
Her efforts extend to presenting papers internationally on income generation and have won here an award including one from the UN. And then she explained about the building we were in. Not built by some donor organisation, not money borrowed from the bank but money saved from a subsistence allowance given to her while at a conference in the USA - her energy and drive are incredible for someone who statistically should be begging for money on the street. And we think we're so great....
Any one wanting to contact Caroline can do so through the following contacts: Caroline Agwanda hopecrafts2000@yahoo.com hopeagwanda@hotmail.com PO Box 13, Kisumu, Kenya or Tel: +254 57 41976 / 40125 She will gladly email a catalogue of work to anyone interested but might really benefit from a web site. Maybe someone reading this might be up to a challenge... Alan
Jan 6 2004
Lokichoggio
Kenya
Day 22 -Jan 6
If the past few days lulled us into a false sense of relaxed flying, today was the wake-up call that's been gnawing at the back of our subconscious. For all the beauty and splendor that Africa presents there is an equally harsh and unforgiving side just waiting to show itself. Takeoff was mundane enough and for the first half hour things went well. The dark waters of Lake Vic had no sooner faded in the distance when we hit the first turbulence. By 9 am a strong easterly had picked up and with a rather large mountain range between us and Lokichogio still to cross, the day was sure to get interesting.
Climbing to 11 000ft did nothing to make things smoother and with a funneling effect through the mountains, our ground speed was halved and all we could do was hang on and hope. The shear splendor of the mountains was overshadowed by that most basic of survival instincts -don't look down!- and only once we were well clear of the mountains could we consider relaxing and start to look for our intended refuel spot.
But before we could reach Lodwar, we had an hour of flying to do over a great desolate plain in near mid-day temperatures - textbook thermic conditions. And we weren't disappointed. The strong easterly at ground level coupled with huge thermals soon whipped up the mother of all dust storms and with visibility reduces to just a kilometer or two, we were left guessing where the airstrip was. And once we found it, the problems still weren't over. The strip lay very nicely in the middle of the 'town' and before we could even cut the engines, we were completely swamped by locals. Under normal circumstances this can be trying but with the added stress of the flight in, we were both very near breaking point and only with the help of some local askari could things be made bearable. Even so, our every move was watched by a thousand staring eyes and despite a very hairy take-off into the dust, we were relieved to exchange one craziness for another we knew only slightly better.
Its difficult to explain the stress that flying through a very bumpy dust storm produces but try to imagine preparing an extremely important document, well past its deadline, while doing gym, in a sauna, during an earth-quake, with sand being thrown in your face, at 8 000ft. For two hours!
OK, so Lokichogio eventually loomed through the dust and after straining to find the strip, we were informed that the wind was gusting to 30 knots. Just what we needed to round things off nicely. Thankfully the conditions at ground level were manageable and without the expected need of an ambulance or tow-truck we made it to the apron, much to the amusement of all present.
Lokichogio is the main supply field for the UN mission into Sudan so the field is lined with every kind of delivery plane imaginable -everything from Caravans to Hercules and supply tents surround the place like a mini city. And into all of this two little microlights boldly taxied, pulled up behind a make-shift canteen, and two rather shaky pilots climbed off and if not for the egg-frying temperature, would probably have kissed the ground. Lets hope tomorrow brings some sane flying.
Alan
Jan 7 2004
Lokichoggio
Ethiopia
Day 23 - Jan 7
No flying today. We'd hoped to get out of Lokichogio at sunrise but delay with changing money and getting fuel frustrated our efforts. Instead we spent the morning doing some maintenance, mainly removing the dust from yesterday's flight and otherwise checking thing over.
The airfield here is incredibly busy with flights arriving and leaving every few minutes and people everywhere, constantly on the move loading famine relief, unloading passengers and otherwise keeping the massive UN efforts on the go.
Tucked away in a far corner we thought we might escape the madness but instead it appears that our presence has become something of a local talking point and constantly through the day we have had curious on-lookers watching our every move and asking the same question over and over again. At least they're always very courteous and we try our best, despite the heat and dust, to be as diplomatic as possible. Actually spending the day on the ground after yesterday's insane flight has been quite refreshing in some ways. Even the air traffic controller commented that today we looked much better.
We've also had a chance to study the route ahead in more detail and have decided that if we get an early enough start with a full fuel load from here tomorrow, Addis Ababa is within reach despite the altitude and dog-leg to avoid Sudan.
So tonight we'll spend camping in the Trackmark Camp with a bunch of pilots and other people who find themselves here and then head out at first light and cross another country off the to-do list.
Alan
Jan 7 2004
Lockichoggio
This is not all fun flying. To give you some insight into how things are not always fun. The flight from Kisumu to Lockichoggio was going to be a long six hour flight. We took off early and it was a bit bumpy but manageable. The terrain was lush with lots of small farms. This was for the first hour after which it became progressively more desert like. After four hours flying it was harsh boiling hot dry desert with horrendously powerful thermals throwing us around the air like ping pong balls. To add to the misery it gradually turned into a huge dust storm. We had sand and dust everywhere. Because of the dust the air filters were blocking and we were using a lot of fuel so we had to land to buy more. We ferreted out a small village which may have petrol and headed for it. All we could think of was, wherever we landed these trikes (if we survived the landing) we were gong to camp there for the evening.
The village is called Lodwar in the middle of desert. There was nothing there until Alan landed and the entire area erupted into hundreds of people running towards him. The nightmare of landing in those conditions were further complicated by people running all over the runway. We were suffocating surrounded by people who had no concept of even half a metre of personal space and to add to it the sand was blowing everywhere.
A few intoxicated locals looking for hand outs assisted in vain to keep people back while Alan went off and surprisingly came back with fuel. While he was away a man tried to speak to me and I rudely told him not to talk to me unless he got everybody back at least ten metres. He stepped back, spoke a few words in the local language and voila! Everybody stood back. This was obviously a person of importance. He then told me that this is a very special occasion for us to have landed there as they knew about our expedition because they saw our launch from Cape Town on DSTV news. That rendered me speechless other than to apologize for having been so rude.
It was going to be impossible to camp there with the riotous situation so we choose to face another two hours of the nightmare conditions. We almost took off vertically, the wind was gusting so strong. It was terrifyingly bumpy. We circled in thermals to gain height and headed off with a 35 knot tail wind. By this stage the engines were using double the normal fuel consumption due to the dust on the ground having totally blocked the air filters and exaggerated by the heat of the day.
Next stress was did we have enough fuel? It couldn't get worse. Well not until the air traffic controller at Lockichoggio warned us that the wind was 17 knots gusting to 30 knots at the runway. The runway was brilliantly positioned behind a 4000 ft mountain. We had to fly through a gap in the mountain to the airfield where we then had to orbit (low on fuel) in horrendous turbulence and wait our turn to land in-between half of the UN relief fund aircraft returning at the end of the days flying. Our landing? It was in one piece. Now everybody was interested in the contraption we were flying and to pluck up the energy to answer the same questions over and over was beyond me. Alan still managed well.
Ricky
Jan 7 2004
Lokichoggio
Kenya
Ricky and Alan are out of phone coverage (cell and saterlite) at the moment - so they are having a communications problem with emailing the website updates to me or any contact actually! But as soon as they are in contact again we will do one big update - so keep checking back to see!
Regards
Bernice (web admin)
Jan 8 2004
Arba Minch
Ethiopia
To everyone who has sent us mail: Firstly we'd like to say a huge thanks to everyone who has emailed us over the past few weeks. The lift we get when finally managing to receive them cannot be described. Unfortunately for the time being we haven't been able to find a good enough connection to reply to them, but when the time comes, we'll try to reply to each and every one.
To hear news from home, catch up with friends we've made along the way or just get words of encouragement from complete strangers adds a dimension to this expedition that we couldn't achieve by ourselves. All we can say is keep them coming and we'll keep going!
Alan
Jan 8 2004
Arba Minch
Ethiopia
Day 24 - Jan 8 The long awaited (and somewhat dreaded) day arrived of our leg from Lokichogio to Addis Ababa - probably the most challenging land section with at best 9 hours flying and the notorious mountains of Ethiopia to cross. Our intended destination lies at 7800 ft and much of the way is inhospitable desert populated (if you believe the world news) by cattle bandit and other interesting people...
Arrival at the airport on time and after sorting out the formalities, we bid this dusty but fascinating place farewell and climbed into the rising sun in the hope of favourable winds and thermals that wouldn't require dental work. And well, at least the thermals played along. As for the winds, well the easterly that got us to Loki tried its best to keep us there. We searched high and low but to no avail, eventually resigning ourselves to a long day in the saddle and just sitting back to enjoy the very slow passing scenery.
And what scenery! The desert seems to have a magic all of its own. The land is so barren that even the slightest hint of water draws life from all directions. Departing from Lokichogio, we pass the first of the nomads, leaving below us, obviously having finished their trading or whatever else drew them there. Lines of goats and donkeys lead by the odd herdsman can be seen stirring small dust clouds right out into the vast nothingness.
As we fly further the scenery becomes even more desolate. The only signs of water are where the herdsmen have dug wells into the dry river beds and passing overhead with nothing in sight as far as the eye can see, we can't but marvel at the human spirit's ability to forge a living even in a place as desperate as this. Makes turning that tap of a drink of water seem just a little too easy.
The settlements themselves are at best a few scattered huts made from branches and a covering of dry grass - probably more for shelter from the heat than the rain. As we pass some of them, we can see the children and goats scattering below, obviously terrified at these unknown machines disturbing the peace. Out here the donkeys also give way to camels that seem totally undisturbed by out antics, merely standing around as camels seem to do.
Just before we cross the border, we decide to land and check our fuel and find an old strip at a place called Fort Wilkenson to do so. While transferring fuel, a few border guards, complete with AK-47's approach us but from their attitude we can see that it’s merely curiosity that brings them our way. As with all the people in Kenya, they are very friendly and after explaining our mission to them, the commander suggests we stick along the border until well clear of the Sudanese section as there are still some well armed cattle bandits (maybe some news agencies do get it right) and they might be tempted to take a shot or two at us. To add to this comforting news, we note that the headwinds have taken their toll on our fuel and without better luck, we might have to seek alternate landing on route to Addis. Our planned alternate is Arba Minch but with no radio contact with Addis yet, this could prove interesting.
We head off, slightly apprehensively and climb to a height where not even luck would make a direct hit possible and sit back once again to enjoy the changing scenery. By this stage we are approaching the Great Rift Valley and a line of broken lakes can be seen heading north east, along our path. The terrain also changes from flat desert to mountain ridges running parallel up the edges of the valley and reaching upwards in places to over 14 000 ft. We settle into the valley at 10 000 ft and are relived to find relatively mild conditions and a slight tailwind.
Sadly its a case of too little too late and we resign ourselves to the unannounced arrival in Arba Minch and the inevitable bureaucratic process that might result in. The town itself is set at the edge of Lake Chamo in a magnificent valley, certainly not fitting the famine image of Ethiopia that inspired people to write charitable songs The airport itself is a imposing sight, completely covered in white marble and very modern, yet completely silent and outwardly appearing deserted.
We land with more than a little apprehension and are met at the building by a very demanding lady, requesting passports and obviously not knowing quite what this is all about. To make matters worse, the airport manager is on lunch and no one knows quite what to do. The security policeman even looks sort of awkward; his AK-47 slung over one shoulder as he leant casually against the entrance pillars.
We both take the approach of smiling broadly and not making any threatening gestures and soon enough things relax a bit. We even get offered Pepsi while we wait for the manager to return, in the meantime sitting in the shade under the ever present gaze of the security police. Half an hour later Hussein, the manager, arrives and is also taken by surprise by our arrival. He duly sets the bureaucratic wheels in progress and we're asked for every detail he can think of, from flight clearance number to amount of fuel in our tanks. While he sets about the task of speaking to superiors, we sit outside and are entertained by trying to communicate with the airport staff through broken English and hand signs. All we manage to do is get Ricky engaged to the one lady's sister and learn the local word for 'sorry'.
An hour or so later Hussein informs us that he has managed to clear us to refuel and then go - something of little help as we have four hours of flying and two hours of daylight... He promptly disappeared again and after another hour returns to tell us that we have permission to stay the night in town but must surrender our passport, aircraft keys and may not take anything electronic or metal with us. Fortunately he is actually a very kind man and after we secure the planes, surrender our passports and remove our top secret electric shavers from our luggage, we are given a lift into town, and at our request are taken to the budget hotel.
Maybe this was a mistake. Budget it certainly was but judging by the number of trucks and the volume of the music, and the fact that cattle wandered freely through the compound, we were certainly in for an interesting evening. They did however serve beer and over our first two Ethiopian beers, we got to enjoy the sunset and reflect on a rather interesting day. We also got to try the traditional food called Injera, made of a local crop called Tef and resembles an oversized pancake, served with a very spicy meat sauce. To be honest, not only was it extremely good but also had no ill side effects later! After the days fun there was no arguing about an early night and from the room the evening faded into a mixture of local music, distant conversation and laughter and of course the odd cattle sound - not a bad way to fall asleep in Africa.
Alan
Jan 9 2004
Addis Ababa
Ethiopia
Day 25 - Jan 9
Nothing says 'Have a good day!' like an early morning frisk by an AK-47 wielding security policeman and with that our trip to Addis Ababa is underway. Lift-off is smooth despite the mid-morning hour and I can't say we feel much loss leaving Arba Minch. The valley itself shows signs of the daily life with farmers hard at work and scores of different vehicles making their way to and from the villages. We route out over Lake Abaya but fail to see either hippo or crocks but imagine that one beach covered in deep tracks must have been frequented by hippos the night before.
We continue north and with our destination lying behind 10000ft high mountains, maintain a steady climb for much of the flight. The land below is a patchwork of intense agriculture and its hard to imagine images of famine from years before. The lands themselves are large enough to indicate that this is commercial farming and in places mechanised farming is also evident.
We make contact with Addis about 60 miles out and from the radio chatter, the airport sounds really busy. The airport itself lies at over 7600 ft, making it amongst the highest international airports in the world and pretty much at the limits for our tiny craft. The feeling of flying at 11000ft and having the ground less than 3000ft below is strange at best but even more amazing are the farms and villages locate on the hills just below us. As we should find out later, merely walking up the road here can be a huge effort and yet here these people work and live as if it’s the only way to do things.
The lasting impression of Addis Ababa is one of contrasts - an ancient culture struggling its way into the 21st century with street beggars and children fighting for pavement space with vendors and informal traders everywhere. And all of this in the shadows of some of the newest and most impressive buildings we've seen. The new airport terminal is a glass and concrete structure that would be right at home in any world city but lies dormant at day when the altitude and temperature make it virtually inaccessible to the large passenger aircraft. In a strange metamorphosis it goes from a sleepy daytime skeleton to a bustling hive of activity as soon as the sun starts to set.
We secure some hangarage and make friends with Desta, a young aircraft technician who sees to it that we are well looked after and even negotiates the taxi for us. He suggests the Itegue Taitu Hotel, Addis's first and oldest hotel and despite some problems with the water supply, we appreciate his suggestion as the hotel has a real old-world charm and we have a chance to meet some other travelers and share some stories and experiences.
After a quiet night we spend the next day earth-bound, sorting out clearances, doing some shopping and fighting off beggars. All in all pretty much what we expected.
The evening of the 10th is spent with some fellow travelers, a couple from Switzerland riding bikes to Cape Town, some Aussies doing much the same with a Landrover and a few other interesting people following their dreams. It's very refreshing to just chat about experiences and not worry about motivations...
Alan
Jan 11 2004
Addis Ababa
Thoughts - Jan 11
We're definitely well into the trip and a routine of sorts has set in. Ricky is taking control of finance which I'm happy with. He seems to enjoy the negotiations and his mood is often determined by how well or badly the last round of digging into the pockets went. I think we're still working well together and haven't had any bad words yet.
Something I could do without is the third world taxi drivers. I'm sure there is a special place in the after-life for them - and its not in the air conditioned section! Hotels have also been 'interesting'. Our budget does not extend to accommodation featured in the travel channel so when you wake up and find that the water is no longer running, we just shrug the shoulders and resign ourselves to another day without showering. At least we've gotten the laundry system working - soak for one hour in the basin, rinse and hang over anything that resembles a laundry line. Might not be whitest and brightest but at least allows us to travel in elevators with other people.
With only two more legs through Africa, our minds have begun to focus on the Middle East and our first obstacle - Yemen. Months of work that Ricky has put in have yet to bear fruit and we may find ourselves facing the first real delay while waiting for the Yemen clearance. The sat phones have been a huge help but even so, it's almost as if the offal's there would rather we just went away. Little do they know...
This has put a bit of stress in the air but as we're sharing a common focus, we seem to be taking it out constructively, abusing taxi drivers and beggars, maybe not good for the karma, but definitely effective none the less.
Alan
Jan 11 2004
Addis Ababa
Hi Ricky Here
We have been doing our little thing through Ethiopia which has been exciting and very interesting. Firstly we arrived in the country not quite as required by regulation. We landed at Arba Minch (not a port of entry) "short of fuel" enroute to Addis Ababa. It took a while to relax tempers and the trigger happy security guards. All turned out for the best and a few more acquaintances were made with the airports manager and a few staff. English is scarce in this country so I kept things entertained with an attempt at learning a few courteous words in Arabic. We spent the evening in a local truck stop/bordello where toilet paper was unheard of but the undesirability of the venue was overshadowed by the willingness and kindness of the staff trying to please our needs. It turnout to be a memorable and pleasant evening.
The next day it was off to Addis Ababa flying up the great rift valley with its numerous lakes and massive mountains on either side. The image of starving Ethiopians is obviously distorted as the terrain, all the way to Addis, was covered in huge amounts of small and obviously successful farming as the lakes supplied an abundance of water. Even above ten thousand foot into the mountains there are farms. It was a great and mellow flight into Addis Ababa and very soon we found ourselves staying at the oldest hotel in Ethiopia which seems to be a draw card for people traveling through Africa. We met several travelers from Europe crossing the continent on motorcycles and land rovers.
We are now in Dire Dawa (Eastern Ethiopia) heading for Djibouti tomorrow and still holding thumbs that we get the clearance to fly through Yemen.
Missing home lots and certainly would appreciate the basics we all take for granted.
Cheers
Ricky
Jan 11 2004
Dire Dawa
Ethiopia
Day 27 - Jan 11
After a few beers last night, the morning starts a bit slow and just seems to slow down as we go. Our trip to the airport is just about what would be expected from a very outdated Lada taxi, just about as new as any we'd seen and the run-around trying to sort out landing fees doesn't make our departure any easier. Ricky returns after very successful negotiation, getting our fees down to 1/5th of what they might have been but the joy is short lived when we're told we can only buy Avgas in 200 liter drums.
Not giving up that easily and only needing 50 liter to fill up, I go on a mission to find a solution. It comes in the form of the local flying club but we end up paying absolutely ridiculous prices and might have been better off just taking 200 liters and giving the rest away...
By 10:45 we get airborne but the heat and altitude make getting away a touch and go affair. By the end of the runway we're no more than 100 ft off the deck and scratch around for lift to get us past the fist 10 kilometers and then over the escapement. While scrounging around we can't help but notice the fascinating patterns that the local farms make. Nowhere are there any right angles on the fields, and the whole effect is and almost hypnotic confusion of lines running crisscross all over the place.
We finally make the escarpment and are faced by the next amazing agricultural phenomena. The edge of the escapement signifies the beginning of some very mountainous terrain but almost every inch is build up with terraces and all around the mountains have been carved into giant steps. It's obvious from the scale that this isn't a recent development and once again we're left wondering about the famine of recent times.
Within a few hours the mountains fade into a barren plain and we're left concentrating on staying wake and keeping on track. The only break is a massive commercial farm where a river divides the plain and before too long we contact Dire Dawa and start preparing for the landing. Dire Dawa is based on an old military runway and the western side is littered with the remains of a time when the Soviets saw fit to dump their unwanted hardware on the third world. Our arrival is met with the usual gathering of the curious but we seem to be getting better at this and are soon fighting a taxi driver over what he considers fair and checking into some budget hotel.
One thing that really stands out about Ethiopia is the amazing number and variety of birds of prey. As the afternoon draws to a close, everywhere you look there are birds taking to the sky and climbing on hundreds of thermals. In some thermals there will be a strange combination of everything from swallows to giant eagles and vultures, all taking advantage of the free ride and somehow getting along just fine. To see the ease with which they ride the thermals always has us standing for a few minutes and just watching in amazement.
Alan
Jan 12 2004
Djibouti
Djibouti
Day 28 - Jan 12
If you haven't seen Djibouti on the Travel Channel, don't feel that its simply because you haven't been watching enough TV. Maybe the place does have a certain charm and a hidden side that would attract people but as yet we have not found it... But wait, let’s start at the far more pleasant beginning of the day.
The hotel we finally settled for last night turned out to be a real winner. Not only did the bed have a support system not based on the springs sinking to the floor, but we also had probably the best meal we've had in weeks at a price that back home wouldn't get you a burger and chips. The hotel was also on the main road to the airport so we got to the planes in good time (despite oversleeping slightly) and soon had ourselves ready to go.
The BlueSky satellite phones also came into their own and it was great chatting to John Robbie on 702 - even if just to hear the news from that side of the continent. Formalities out the way, we waved farewell to the usual gawkers and headed east to Djibouti. The first few minutes were much of what we'd seen the day before but very soon the scenery changed dramatically. The first indication were the camels, grouped along the remains of the river but as the river dried completely, the only signs of life were herders with huge flocks of goats and sheep walking ancient, well worn paths to drinking holes, dug in groups where the river probably flows when it occasionally rains. The landscape itself at first looks like typical desert but on closer inspection, everywhere the sand has blown clear to reveal the underlying rock, evidence of former habitation is evident. Actually saying evident is a bit of an understatement. Every inch of land shows ancient foundations and the remains of intense habitation. Clearly in a time long forgotten this place had enough water to support masses of people and a thriving culture existed. But now all that's left is the shifting sand and strange, alien patterns on the ground. I'm sure that someone walking at ground level might not even notice what from the air is so obvious.
As we crossed the Djibouti FIR, we were met by a bank of broken clouds and could only catch glimpses of what lay below. This continued right down to the coast and we only got our first good view of the Red Sea as we dropped below cloud base and prepared to land. Once again half the airport was taken up by military aircraft but this time all very much in working order. It turns out that the French have a large military presence here and are fairly active in the air.
We secured the planes, cleared customs with broken Anglo-French and once again braced for the inevitable taxi negotiations. We weren't disappointed and let’s just say we don't seem to get the same taxi driver twice! And now back to this place...
Some time ago, if the buildings are anything to go by, Djibouti went from affluent to effluent. Standing on the hotel roof, making a call with the satellite phone, offers a panoramic view of our new temporary home. Maybe we chose on the wrong side of the market but to call this place a rat-hole would give rat-holes a bad name. Street vendors set up stalls between rivers of raw sewage and goats seem happy to pick through the piles of garbage cluttering the sidewalks. We seem to be nestled on the khat (narcotic leaves chewed in place of a good honest beer) vending corner and everywhere people seem content to find a place in the filth and partake in chewing and spitting - really adding to the general ambiance.
The hotel also overlooks a major traffic circle and clearly the French had a major influence on the driving habits of the Djiboutians. Once again the hooter forms the preferred means of vehicle control. Taxis, bussed and scooters stare each other down, no one giving an inch and at times its hard to determine which side of the road they should be driving on. Our taxi driver, for instance, reversed blind into the major road and then first got to speed on the wrong side of the road before cutting off a queue of cars to get back onto the right side. And people think the flying is the dangerous part of this trip.
For the time being we're stuck here too, while we wait for our clearance from Yemen. By the looks of things this could take a while but don't worry, with luck this will get onto the 'net and I'm sure we can have enough 'fun' here to keep things interesting. Maybe tomorrow we'll try eating at the Vietnamese place down the road where the crows were cleaning up the carcass of a cat that didn't make it across the road (or onto the menu...) Alan
Jan 12
Djibouti
Hi all
Just to let you know we're sitting in Djibouti, waiting for Yemen to give us the go-ahead and chomping at the bit to get going again.
We cannot thank you all enough for the wonderful messages of support that have been pouring in - they mean a lot! Sorry we can't reply to them all but as soon as we get a good connection we'll make a plan.
Cheers and hope the New Year is off to a great start for all.
Ricky
Jan 14 2004
Hi From Ricky
Hopefully you are all well and easing back into work after a great end of year.
For those of you who have a job, appreciate it because there are some of us who are unemployed and the high light for the day is eating meager crumbs in the back corner of a dirty parking area like most self respecting jobless, homeless wanderers. We genuinely landed up in this situation. It was one of those penny pinching ideas that went wrong. Let’s put it down to a humbling experience that will make us better people. (What bulls..t. It was a "kak experience that we will hopefully not repeat.).
We are wondering around Djibouti hoping to get the OK from Yemen for us to fly in there. Out of absolute desperation we have contacted the South African ambassador in Saudi Arabia and he is helping us to try and sort things out. We will know tomorrow afternoon what the final verdict is.
The official we have been dealing with keeps on giving us the run around without any definite answers. We do not even want to contemplate the consequences of a No as it involves Eritrea and Sudan. Countries which you probably know by their rather controversial publicity of late.
As you can deduce we are rather anxious as to our future on this planet. Let me tell you stories about Djibouti. It has some interesting features like the refuse is evenly distributed everywhere for the flies, rats and cats to compete for possession there of. The rats are only distinguishable from the cats by the fur on their tails. The locals spend the day "Lounging" around chewing "Khat". A green weed which has an intoxicating effect. Answering the question as to why nothing works around here. (You have probably guessed I am not in top spirits right now)
OK! Let me give you positive stories about this place. We went to the bank to change money and it was an eye opener to see there are no security guards in the bank. People change foreign money without any questions or exchange control and some people walk in with thousands of dollars openly holding it in their hands. The teller even walked out of his cubicle to the back and left piles of money on the counter at everybody's reach. How does one explain this when right outside the bank are hundreds of desperately poor people wandering around. It is also noticeable how many really expensive 4x4 vehicles there are and the rest are wreckage's of taxis. The in-between cars are missing.
People seem to be either very wealthy or very poor. (Guess where we fit in) Things here are as expensive as in Europe, noticeably with the Europe part missing.
Today we created a dilemma with the taxi drivers. They are always hassling tourists to use their taxi service which are very expensive. After trying in vain to negotiate a reasonable price to get to the airport I stuck my thumb out and blow me over with a feather, a fancy 4x4 stopped and picked us up. We waved the taxi drivers farewell and left them blown away and totally confused. We did the same coming back and have discovered the generosity of the locals. If anyone asks for help they will go out of their way to do something.
We watched an old woman ask the local taxis for money as they stopped outside a college. They all gave her something. In spite of the surrounding conditions this place has a unique character. Time to say farewell.
Hold thumbs for the Yemen approval.
Cheers
Ricky
Jan 15 2004
Djibouti
Djibouti
Day 31 - Jan 15
Still stuck in Djibouti. The frustration of trying to work within the constraints is taking its toll. Yemen finally turned around and refused our visas - this after 6 months of dragging us along and leaving us to believe that it was about to grant them. All hope not lost, we can still fly though on a general declaration, but only if we get flight clearance. So we're turning to the alternate plan of flying through Saudi Arabia - a more ambitious and slightly more risky route which will see us having to cross about 330 miles of the Red Sea before touching land. We’ve done the calculations and it is easily with the reach of the planes but the pilots haven't had to put their endurance to the 7 hour test yet! We'll know within the next 48 hours which way we'll go but until then, its back to the squalor that is Djibouti... And on that note, this place has started to grow on us a bit - much the same way some strange and exotic rash might grow on you.
The dead cat we passed on our first day here still lies in the same place, slowly disappearing as the crows help themselves. Each day as we walk past, we pay our respects to our adopted pet and measure our stay by degree of decay... We've even started to see humour in the crazy traffic and disgusting conditions around our hotel - humour seems to be the only way to keep our spirits high. We've also invented the 'Bergie Breakfast' - not wanting to pay huge hotel prices and scared that we'll be served our cat by one of the local places - we've taken to buying rolls, juice and something to put on the rolls at the local 'Supermarche', finding a quiet spot in a parking lot, side street or on the steps of the national theatre and simply making ourselves at home. It does draw some stares but at least we're eating well and who knows, maybe we'll start a trend!
Alan
Jan 18 2004
Djibouti
Hi from frustrated Ricky
Here we are appreciating more quality time in %$#*!...........Djibouti. We still have no idea when we are going to be flying out of here. The South African consulate is trying to convince the Yemenese to let us through and simultaneously we are trying to get approval to fly through Saudi Arabia. Please hold thumbs.
We were not aware how tense this area is. Every country is on full alert because they are concerned that some fundamentalists may launch an attack in their country. They are concerned that we fly low and are taking photographs from the air etc. We also have to make declarations that we are not carrying any weapons and have been told that the surrounding seas are also afloat with trigger happy war ships. Get dramatic or what? What happened to simple Yes or No.
Most of our day is spent fighting off the taxis and street vendors. We obviously stand out amongst the locals and are a great target for a quick buck. We have spent time going to the airport and preparing for long flights through Saudi Arabia. We have taken everything we don't need immediately, off the trikes and have sent it via Ethiopian Airlines Cargo to Karachi. We both realize that this is not a bright idea because it has cost us almost as much as buying everything again. It is going to be interesting once the Pakistani customs gets hold of it. We are visualizing import duties etc. If it turns out to be ridiculous we can just leave it there. Imagine a Pakistani in the desert with thermal underwear?
The idea is to lighten the trikes to carry more fuel for longer distance. The flight from Djibouti is North through the center of the Red Sea (To remain in international air space) and turning inland when we get to the Saudi airspace. This is a distance of about 650km and will take over 7 hours. The liferafts and lifejackets are out and ready and so are the goggles and snorkel for diving in the Red Sea.
What really burns my Portuguese miserly butt about this place is that it is so expensive and it is a dirty pit. To survive the local food and life style one has to have a cast iron stomach and no intestine to delay the process. We have taken to buying food at the one and only supermarket (equivalent to a small Kwikspar) and it only has expensive imported goods. We have progressed from eating our supermarket goodies at the back of a parking lot to eating it in an air-conditioned office at the state theatre. Sounds glamorous doesn't it? Well it is a dilapidated filthy abandoned building that is being renovated by some Chinese contractors one of whom finds us so fascinating and hilarious that he invites us to sit in their site office and we communicate with all sorts of gestures. We have shown him some photos of what we fly and explained what we are doing. Whether he understands or not we have no idea but he invites us to come again and we appreciate it so we continue to keep him entertained.
Alan is rushing me to get going. I write so slow compared to him.
Cheers
Ricky
Jan 18 2004
Djibouti
Djobouti
Day 34 - Jan 18
It seems our time in Djibouti isn't over yet. And it seems the situation to our north isn't helping our cause much either. Authorities are reluctant to give us permission due to safety issues but whether it is our safety or theirs remains to be seen.
In the mean time we're doing everything to try to get someone to say yes. The most frustrating thing is to know that the average work day here seems to last only about 2 hours and loosing ones temper or thinking anyone can be rushed just adds to the frustration.
Life in Djibouti also leaves a lot to be desired. The street vendors and taxi drivers are constantly in our faces, trying to push their trade and doing so in French! A small conciliation is the odd one who'll get upset when we wind them up - hey, they started it...
We've also upped the status of our 'Bergie Breakfasts'. By a stroke of luck, yesterday we chose to eat on the steps of the State Theater but found a door open and had a look inside. There we found a Chinese work crew busy doing some restoration and in particular one guy who seemed to be a foreman of sorts. His English rivaled our Chinese but through detailed hand signs, he ushered us into their air-conditioned board room which became a welcome break from the mid-morning heat. Today, just out of curiosity we went back and sure enough, he once again let us use the pace as our personal dining room. Tomorrow, if we're still stuck here, we're going to take him some breakfast too.
Keep those emails coming though - they are a huge source of inspiration right now! We hope to be back in the air in the next day or two but the reality is that we have no idea when anyone will give the go ahead. Maybe once we're out of here we'll give some more details and some stories that will best be told when we're off this continent.
Alan
Jan 18 2004
Djibouti
Hi from frustrated Ricky
Here we are appreciating more quality time in %$#*!...........Djibouti. We still have no idea when we are going to be flying out of here. The South African consulate is trying to convince the Yemenese to let us through and simultaneously we are trying to get approval to fly through Saudi Arabia. Please hold thumbs.
We were not aware how tense this area is. Every country is on full alert because they are concerned that some fundamentalists may launch an attack in their country. They are concerned that we fly low and are taking photographs from the air etc. We also have to make declarations that we are not carrying any weapons and have been told that the surrounding seas are also afloat with trigger happy war ships. Get dramatic or what? What happened to simple Yes or No.
Most of our day is spent fighting off the taxis and street vendors. We obviously stand out amongst the locals and are a great target for a quick buck. We have spent time going to the airport and preparing for long flights through Saudi Arabia. We have taken everything we don't need immediately, off the trikes and have sent it via Ethiopian Airlines Cargo to Karachi. We both realize that this is not a bright idea because it has cost us almost as much as buying everything again. It is going to be interesting once the Pakistani customs gets hold of it. We are visualizing import duties etc. If it turns out to be ridiculous we can just leave it there. Imagine a Pakistani in the desert with thermal underwear?
The idea is to lighten the trikes to carry more fuel for longer distance. The flight from Djibouti is North through the center of the Red Sea (To remain in international air space) and turning inland when we get to the Saudi airspace. This is a distance of about 650km and will take over 7 hours. The liferafts and lifejackets are out and ready and so are the goggles and snorkel for diving in the Red Sea.
What really burns my Portuguese miserly butt about this place is that it is so expensive and it is a dirty pit. To survive the local food and life style one has to have a cast iron stomach and no intestine to delay the process. We have taken to buying food at the one and only supermarket (equivalent to a small Kwikspar) and it only has expensive imported goods. We have progressed from eating our supermarket goodies at the back of a parking lot to eating it in an air-conditioned office at the state theatre. Sounds glamorous doesn't it? Well it is a dilapidated filthy abandoned building that is being renovated by some Chinese contractors one of whom finds us so fascinating and hilarious that he invites us to sit in their site office and we communicate with all sorts of gestures. We have shown him some photos of what we fly and explained what we are doing. Whether he understands or not we have no idea but he invites us to come again and we appreciate it so we continue to keep him entertained.
Alan is rushing me to get going. I write so slow compared to him.
Cheers
Ricky
Jan 19 2004
Djibouti
HI From Ricky
YES! YES! Yeeeesssss! Weg is ons! or as we say in the Cape "Daar gat ons" WE GOT THE CLEARANCE FOR YEMEN.
After marathon diplomatic negotations between the South African Ambassador in Saudi Arabia, Mr Gabier and the South African consulate in Yemen represented by Mr Anil the clearance was negotiated with the Yemen defense force and Civil Aviation. From our side we just cannot thank them enough. We have been working at this continuously for more than four months and can appreciate the major diplomatic strings that they have pulled to get this right.It is a first for private aviation flying through the Yemen airspace especially at a time when things are so tense in the area.
It's all systems go. Tomorrow morning we will take off a first light and head across the entrance of the Red Sea and onto to Aden. From there we fly to Riyan and then to Salahala in Oman. We are going to do a huge amount of flying to make it to Pakistan before that clearance lapses. The Pakistan clearance has also taken us four months to arrange and things are not looking favourable in the area so we had best make "hay while the sun shines". We will be airport hopping so please do not expect too many updates for the following week.
Hold thumbs for good weather.
Cheers
Ricky
Jan 20 2004
Aden
Yemen
Day 36 - January 20 One down - Five to go! Continents, that is... After all the stress of Yemen clearance being on and then off and then on again, I don't think either of us slept very much, probably half expecting a midnight phone call telling us it was off again. But our 4:30 wakeup call came before anything changed and clearly things were going our way when we caught a taxi to the airport and actually paid what we had agreed to!
The trikes were ready and waiting, as they had been for the past few days and just as the sun would have been rising (had it not been drizzling, we taxied out, got the go ahead from the tower and headed out, through the rain and off the African continent. Can't say either of us looked back in longing at Djibouti, in fact the rain provided a much needed wash for the trikes (and probably the pilots too!), but as we cleared the bay and headed for the Gulf of Aden, things cleared up and at our designated flight level we even managed to pick up a tailwind. Crossing the gulf was to be our first big sea crossing, 80 miles in total, so we had kitted out in the life jackets, we had our valuables in the water-proof bags and the life rafts were safely within reach on top of the rear luggage bags. But to be honest, I think the relief of finally being in the air again overpowered any fear of flying over the sea and the scattered cloud made for a very pleasant flight all the way over. We didn't even see or hear any of the supposed war ships that were going to make the crossing even more interesting. From 9 500 ft the view with the Red Sea out to the left and the Gulf of Aden to the right was quite spectacular. The water once again translucent blue with patches of lighter blues and greens around the coast and the odd island leaving the coast. With the good tailwind we were soon entering Yemenese airspace and with the challenges of getting the clearance, more than a bit apprehensive about the reception. We'd also been told stories of possible dislike of westerners and difficulties with the language barrier. From the first radio call however, things could not have been more pleasant. Our flight from the coast into Aden was mostly above two broken layers of cloud so we hadn't got a good look at Aden until we started our descent. And what a city. Based around a long dormant volcano crater that reaches nearly 2000 ft out of a long bay, the contrast of black rock, white sand and blue sea is quite striking. From the infrastructure and development, it’s clear that this is a world-class city.
Our arrival drew the usual crowd of airport people and after a nervous moment or two we soon got a few smiles, some friendly handshakes and got introduced to the most amazingly helpful people you can imagine. Nothing seems like too much trouble and there is never a suggestion that a favour must be paid for. Our fuel cans disappeared into the back of the 'Follow Me' truck and I was convinced that the money they requested for fuel would only fill one of the four cans. Within minutes they were back, all four full and change. Seems Djibouti may have skewed our perceptions a bit. With the good winds, we inquired about heading straight for Riyan but little did we realise the bureaucratic hornets nest that this simple request would open. Nothing gets done without the proper authority from Sana'a. And boy, does that involve a paper-chase. For the next four hours we watched in amazement as faxes, phones and files got put into action with much waving of arms, discussions and points being raised.
Our savior came in the form of Abu Mazen, the Deputy in Charge of the Metrology department. He took us aside, explained that this is just the way things get done, and then arranged for us to get clearance into town to get food, change money and otherwise get out the circus. Our clearance did eventually arrive but by then it would have meant flying in the dark and doing a few other things we might not be allowed to do.
Once again Abu Mazen to the rescue. He organised a vehicle, helped us park the trikes and then found us a hotel for half the price and twice the quality of anything we'd seen in Djibouti. What a welcome relief. We settled in, sans beer of course! and took a few minutes to let the day just sink in. By six we were semi-recovered and met with Abu Mazen again who proceeded to show us a bit of the town, including a stroll along the very impressive beach front, where the order of the day is to drive up and down the beach in anything from 4X4 to brand new Mercs! A great ending to the day, sitting in this town we thought we'd never see, taking in this amazing culture and chatting to a new found friend about everything from families to what they put in the lemon drinks to make them taste so good. Alan
Jan 21 2004
Riyan
Yemen
Day 37 - Jan 21
Not sure if it was relief, the nice firm bed or just the change of mood, but I wish I could sleep this well every night. The sound of the wake-up call came through from the back of some distant dream but the pleasure of a clean and functional bathroom made getting up not too bad. The driver was there right on time and without much delay we were ready to go. The airport manager had even arranged a very welcome discount on the landing fees and we had a full met report waiting for us.
Just as we were about to get ready to start up, a party of very formal looking gentlemen emerged from the airport building and in suitably hushed tones we were told that this was the governor of Aden who had heard of our arrival and wished to meet us. Not sure who saw it as more of a compliment but after a brief and very informal chat, he wished us well and stood back to watch our departure. He had come all the way out just to say farewell. This place and its people never fail to amaze. All this out the way we were soon off into the sunrise and climbing, first through a headwind and then into a tailwind and on our way. Behind us Aden could be seen coming to life and this is certainly a place I'd like to add to the return wish list.
Again our path was lined with layers of broken cloud so all we got to see of the landscape for the first three hours was patches of desert, hills and the odd village. To our right, the Indian Ocean stretched out to the horizon, beyond which lies Australia, and the next two months of our lives.
Something we've been questioning since arriving in Djibouti is the quality of the fuel. Pumps are simply marked 'Regular' and judging by the cars, that's all they need. We've done our best to check for water and impurities but have both noticed that at high altitude when changing throttle settings, the engines occasionally shudder, not quite missing, but giving notice that all is not 100%. Today, just as we passed the halfway mark, I noticed one of these shudders but didn't pay it too much attention. About ten minutes later I throttled back to avoid some cloud and had an instant heart-in-mouth moment when the engine gave a proper miss. I froze for a second and listened intensely as the engine continued as if nothing had even happened. I called Ricky and reported my 'moment' but once again assumed it was just something we have to live with until we can get known fuel again. Ten minutes later Ricky came back on the radio reporting he'd had the same 'moment'. And of course by now we'd left the coast and were crossing the only mountain range between Aden and Riyan... not a nice place to be looking for a place to land!
We continued the rest of the flight in silence, each listening to every beat of the Rotax and working the throttle with kid-gloves. And, just like the watched pot that never boils, the engines ran sweetly right the way through. We have decided that AVGAS will be the preferred fuel for the crossing to Pakistan in a few days...
The arrival at Riyan was a quiet affair, most of the airport staff just coming up to say hello, have a look and then continue with their tasks. An amusing moment occurred when the controller asked if we would be refueling and we said we would need fuel. Around the corner appeared the largest fuel truck you can imaging, brand new, and sadly full of jet fuel! Never mind, the driver and his assistant took our cans, some money and before we could make it to the briefing room had our planes full again.
The rest of the day was spent convincing the official in charge of landing fees that he too should offer us a discount (which he did) and otherwise chatting to the airport staff. Tonight we've chosen to sleep at the airport as town is some 60km away. The staff have organised the VIP lounge for us, of course, and tomorrow we'll make an early start for Salalah and our next country, Oman.
Alan
Jan 20 2004
Aden
This is Ricardo reporting from Yemen.
What a relief to have got out of Djibouti. That place is the ultimate test for any living organism’s immune system. We were so keen to get out of there that we took off in the rain, low cloud, dark and straight out to sea towards Aden. The first half an hour we relied on our flashing strobes to keep an eye on each other. We knew the rain/drizzle would not last as it hardly rains for longer than a few minutes in these areas. The liferafts and life jackets were packed and ready. The flight went well and approaching Aden was quite impressive. The town is built around a bay on reasonably flat ground except for a 2000 foot mountain at the end of the peninsula. There are lots of old forts built on different points of the mountain and some of the houses are built high on the mountain side on terraces. The people who live there are probably descendants from mountain goats.
One thing that is quite noticeable is that they have sewerage systems from these houses. The piping is laid over the roofs of the houses below and hangs on side walls and poles etc until it reaches lower ground.
The reception at the airport was really warm and welcoming. There is a genuine willingness to be of assistance and to treat guests well, with no expectation of any form of reimbursement. We were warned about the Yemenese people being unusual and difficult especially to "Whities" or non-Muslims. This far we have found this to be completely untrue and reality is definitely the opposite. What was unusual is the extent to which people operate in an extremely bureaucratic manner. Nobody wants to make a decision or wants to be responsible for anything. An example of this is when we arrived in Aden it was only 9.30am and as we are under pressure to make it to Pakistan before the flight clearance there lapses (It also took 4 months to get that one approved) and due to us having a major tail wind, we decided to fly on to Riyan to catch up a day. We asked if would be OK and concluded all the immigration formalities, landing fees and flight plans etc and got ready. We were fully kitted out with engines running on the taxi way when the Air traffic controller call us back and ask for one of us to come to the briefing office.
Alan and I got very colloquial towards them and then obeyed. Some a...hole had pointed out on the flight clearance it was written that we would fly out the following day and therefore they had to get written permission form the Civil Aviation in Sana' (The capital of Yemen) and to co-ordinate it with the defense force etc. There was a man from the defense force, a man from the civil aviation, a man dealing with Riyan etc. all faxing and getting written permission from someone else. We just sat back and chatted to those who could understand English and it all became too late for us to leave so we were taken to town to buy something to stay at a hotel. Ofcourse not without having to get written permission from immigration for us to leave the airport and leaving our passports with the 10 immigration officers. All of whom were extremely polite but would not make a decision. I suppose this is the remnants of the Russian influence here. We quickly got the hang of how things work here, it is all quite easy. We even managed to reduce our landing fees in Riyan. Needless to say, with written permission from Sana' ofcourse. Besides this cumbersome system the country is great.
There is a lot of development going on. Beach fronts, holiday resorts, major roads through unbelievable mountains into the desert and apartments etc. There is definitely a substantial upward movement and it is clear that major money is moving in here. An example is a town close to Riyan called Al Mukalha has just had a huge Holiday Inn built which from the air is really impressive and next to it they are developing 10km of beach front resort with four other hotels and apartments. The layouts, road building, earth moving machines etc are working away making it all happen.
Alan has written about the amazing people we have met here and we were even privileged to have the Governor( Mayor) of Aden see us off. Right now we are sitting in the VIP lounge of the Riyan airport where we will sleep tonight so as to get an early start tomorrow morning. It is about a six or seven hour flight to Salalaha in Oman. Later we are going to sneak into the mosque and try and put in an order for a tailwind.
Cheers Ricky
Jan 22 2004
Salalah
Oman
Day 38 - Jan 22
Today was mostly just about sitting around, passing the time. Admittedly it did have some of the most spectacular views but basically for the better part of six hours we cruised along the coast from Riyan to Salalah in Oman just marvelling at the unfolding landscape.
Departure from Riyan was surprisingly simple - not too much of the red tape and paper work we'd somehow been expecting. The crowd that met us yesterday was there to see us off and then it was simply a matter f climbing to a descent altitude where the wind, although rather cold, was helping us along.
At Riyan the mountains are about 30 km inland but as we progressed they ran closer to the land until at the border they meet the sea, once again giving a spectacular contrast with black rock, white sand and deep blue ocean. From the peaks at about 4000 ft, the mountains drop to the waters edge and continue straight down through the crystal clear water until they disappear into deepest blue imaginable.
The Oman side of the border is instantly recongisable by the development. Where the land is flat enough, sea side villages abound and where it isn't flat enough, amazing roads meander over the contours leading to and from scattered settlements.
The approach to Salalah brings the first coastal plain; the city itself is immaculately laid out with its white buildings, green palm plantations and amazing coastal estates, obviously the reserve of the extremely well-off. The airport lies just north of the town and mirrors the rest of the place - perfectly kept and well organised.
Within minutes we have a safe place to park, a vehicle to get us back to the tower (no walking here) and to top it all, the landing fees are the most reasonable since leaving home. We're walked through customs with hardly a glance at our passports and before we can blink a taxi arrives and (once again for a reasonable fee) we're taken to a hotel which we imagine is going to be well outside the budget. I stay with the taxi, believing that Ricky will be back in two minutes but instead he comes out with a huge smile. This place is less than we paid for the Rat-hole Inn in Djibouti. Things sure are looking up for some weary, dusty and probably smelly travellers. Just to top the evening off we find a Pizza Hut. This is just too good to pass by so tonight we sleep full of deep crusted pizza and extra large juice. Alan
Day 39 - Jan 23
I read somewhere in a brochure at the airport that Oman is 82 % desert. Well, today I think we flew over most of that and in theory, flying over a desert in the middle of the day would mean heat, turbulence and unpleasant going, but lets start at the beginning.
Waking up in what can only be described as luxury (based on recent weeks) made it even more difficult to get out of bed at 4am but the realization of the day that lay ahead was all the motivation we needed and soon we were stumbling round the planes in the dark, loading bags, checking things and waking up. That was until the friendly ATC's turned on the floodlights, instantly turning night to day. Sunrise was at about 6:45 by which time we were already at 3 000 ft, cruising down the coast. The mountains that start behind Salalah form a cliff ridge that runs about 5 miles inland straight up to nearly 6 000 ft and run for over 30 miles. All this makes for a stunning backdrop to the golden sunrise over the Arabian Sea.
As we were leaving Salalah we had to route around a restricted area so as not to fly over what must have been either a Sultan or some very wealthy person's estate. They certainly don't do things on a small scale here - the whole place just looked the part; long, palm lined drive way through massive security entrance and wall behind which lay what would best be described as a palace, complete with Arabic arches, lattice windows and domes. Around the estate were numerous guest houses and every sporting facility imaginable. Oh, and three helipads - obviously who ever stayed there had friends over occasionally.
Leaving this behind, we continued Eastwards along the cliff face until, after about 30 miles it met the sea and formed a stretch of coast straight out of an Arabian Nights story - white cliffs dropping straight down, broken by the odd hidden cove and small beach and every so often a sea cave. At one point a river had cut a deep canyon right through this all, a vertical cut some 5000 ft deep - its hard to imagine how many millions of years that would have taken.
And just like that it all ended in a long curved white beach behind which lay the desert. I'd like to say there was something interesting to describe about the desert but in truth it just lies there, mile after mile of nothingness from the sea inland as far as the eye can see. In fact if it wasn't for the oil beneath it and man's efforts to get that oil, I'm sure there would be even less. Even the oil wells aren't that interesting. They are fairly sparsely distributed and not the high structures one imagines but small pump stations connected by a network of pipelines. Beyond that there were only about three roads of any description with nothing but trucks ferrying food and whatever between the East and West of the country.
As mentioned earlier, this should have been a bumpy and uncomfortable flight but some sort of front had pushed in over the country making the air freezing cold and dead calm. Despite the cold this came as a huge relief, making our 9 hour flying a lot more bearable. In fact the only time we had any sort of turbulence was landing at Ghaba, an oil collection junction, to stretch the legs, transfer fuel and enjoy some left over pizza from last night.
Ghaba airport reflects the rest of this country, it probably gets used once every six months but the landing strip is immaculate and big enough to land a Boeing and the airport building reflects the Arabian architecture. All of this literally in the middle of nowhere.
Ghaba Airport in the middle of the desert Oman
After Ghaba there are no more oil fields and the desert is so uniform in colour and texture that navigation is only possible by GPS. For two hours we sat back and simply concentrated on keeping on track and not falling asleep. Eventually the flat horizon started to show signs of unevenness and just as we got Muscat on the radio the desert gave way to signs of civilisation.
The approach to Muscat was over a small mountain range with Muscat and the Gulf of Oman a welcome change from the past couple of hours. Once again we went through the process of tying the planes down, dealing with formalities and fighting with taxi drivers, all the while just wanting to eat something and just collapse. We found a fairly comfortable hotel, a local restaurant with some great Indian food and eventually passed out at about 9pm. A 9 hour flight certainly doesn't make us very sociable.
Tomorrow we'll spend the day recovering in Muscat which coincidentally has a month long cultural festival on the go. Our clearance into Pakistan in for Sunday so we'll also have a chance to prepare the planes for a 250 mile sea crossing - lets hope we have that tailwind!
Alan
Jan 24 2004
Muscat
Oman
Day 40 - Jan 24
What would have been a day spent wandering around Muscat enjoying the sights and sounds got cut just a little short by red tape. The morning was pleasant enough, we spent a few hours walking through the fascinating old markets that run off the main street into the alley and sell just about anything imaginable - Fabrics, spices, carpets (of course), electronic gadgets and even old maritime memorabilia. The surprising thing about these markets is firstly how spotless they are, not a piece of paper or dust in sight and secondly how uncrowded they are. Other markets have always seemed full of people but here you feel like you have personal space and there is none of the usual pressure to buy.
After the market we also managed to find a real laundry and much to our relief dropped off a huge bundle of seriously dirty washing. Not that we haven't been washing things ourselves but two bachelors just don't seem to get things white and crisp the way they started out...
After all of this we decided to shoot out to the planes and quickly refuel them... Five hours later we emerged, hot and bothered having had to deal with more red tape and indecision than any one person should be subjected to in a lifetime. Muscat International just doesn't know about microlights and knows even less about bringing your own fuel from a petrol station to refuel. After trying the official channels we eventually just did the South African thing and made a plan. Some poor security official got volunteered as our personal escort and having sort of got permission from his superiors, spent the rest of the afternoon following us around and helping to load fuel. He seemed to quite enjoy the break and was certainly intrigued by the funny little aeroplanes tied down beyond the helipad. We were fortunate enough to be offered a lift by a local businessman on his way into town (the Oman people just seem to want to help) and he was kind enough to drive us right back to our hotel neighbourhood. By this time it was almost dark and we had just enough time to do a few last things like collect our very clean laundry (I hardly remember these shirts ever being white), try to find an internet cafe and finally enjoy another great meal at the place we found last night.
Muscat has certainly made an impression on us both. Its cleanliness, friendly helpful people and amazing layout between the hills with its many little fortresses and city walls really gives it a welcoming feeling and as a tax-free city things certainly don't cost an arm and a leg. Its also the kind of place you feel completely safe in. In fact while walking around you never feel anything but relaxed.
Alan
Jan 25 2004
Qwadar
Pakistan
Day 41 - Jan 25
The day we'd had at the back of our mind for some time had arrived. Our crossing into Yemen had really just been a practice run, a chance to dust off the life rafts and see how the life jackets fitted. What we'd do today was much more like the real thing - 240 miles of open sea - five hours of nothing but blue.
But first we'd need to get airborne and once again things weren't quite that simple. For starters the wake up call we ordered never came and for once Ricky managed to turn his watch alarm OFF. The result was a great night's sleep followed by a mad rush to get to the airport. That out the way, what followed was a two hour paper chase of landing fees, parking fees, admin fees and I seem to remember somewhere paying to have the planes toilets cleaned. The fees themselves were not the problem but the procedure to get them sorted out was mind-numbing. Once again, the failure of all the forms to have a 'microlight' box to tick seemed to be the main problem. No one wanted to make a decision. Eventually we ordered a chicken sandwich from the Dairy Queen and sat in the departure lounge while the last of the T's were crossed and I's dotted.
By 9:30 we finally got the planes started.... and then waited for 20 minutes to get a slot between all the traffic. Were we ever going to get out of there?!?!?!?! But soon enough we lined up and got airborne and headed straight out to sea. The feeling of heading out, well beyond any imposed comfort zone is difficult to explain. Imagine driving down the highway, at night, through fog, and turning your lights off. And then for three and a half hours putting our faith in a little black box that tells you which way to go. Oh, and if the engine cuts you get to firstly crash into the sea and, if you manage to get yourself out the wreck alive, then spend a couple of hours bobbing around in a life raft the size of a tennis racket. Maybe that's a bit dramatic because there is quite a lot to keep busy with but for the most part you simply sit there, staring into the blue (and its pretty much blue wherever you look) listening to every beat of the engine. A simple change in throttle position takes on a whole new dimension and transferring fuel although only a ten minute process, feels like an eternity, each moment just waiting for some unseen water in the fuel to bring the engine to a grinding holt and turning the whole day upside-down. And then just for some added fun a bank of clouds needed crossing and with peaks up well over 10 000 ft we had no choice but to weave our way through them, dodging patches of rain and dreading each turbulent bump, not knowing what it might induce.
Want to know how to tell when you are far from home? You're flying along and suddenly you cross an unseen FIR (Flight Information Region) boundary and you get handed over to Teheran Control. I mean this is a country that features prominently on CNN and not because it has Presidential Primaries or the latest high-tech expo either! But to be honest the ATC's were very friendly and this also meant the crossing was almost over.
Of course the mere fact that you're reading this here and not seeing it on CNN should tell you we made it. Never in my life did I imagine that I would be happy to see Iran but the sight of the thin brown line that finally separated the two shades of blue certainly eased the grip on the controls and allowed us both to relax just a bit.
Ten minutes later and we were handed over to Pakistan control and yet another 50 minutes and we were lining up to land at Gwadar. Not a place you've heard of? Not surprising. Ricky had been questioned by Pakistan CAA why we wanted to land here and described it as a small desert town. Well its a big desert and a small town. In fact so small that we had to buy petrol out of some very dodgy store. The only petrol that is available gets smuggled across from Iran so tomorrow we'll be very careful to filter and refilter it before mixing it well with the good stuff we have on board.
Would you buy this petrol for your aeroplane?
We also met the local immigration official who took well over two hours reading through our entire passports before deciding it was best for us just to stay at the airport because he just didn't know about our being here. Suites us just fine - in fact it saved us having to ask... So tonight we'll have another great dinner of dried stuff and a peaceful night on a VIP lounge floor - actually its more like the only lounge floor but calling it the VIP lounge just makes the cracked wall and threadbare furniture sound so much grander.
Alan
Jan 27 2004
Karachi
Pakistan
Day 43 - Jan 27
If you remember back to Djibouti, as we do with a cold chill, you might remember that in a moment of desperation, we sent some luggage ahead to the very Karachi that we now find ourselves in, convinced that we'd never see our beloved belongings again. Today we attempt to find said belonging...
In 19xx the British pulled out of Pakistan and if you read history, they probably gave some seemingly valid reason. But today we found out the real reason they left. In true British fashion they would have instilled in the locals a great sense of official procedure not realising the Pandora's Box that this would open. It seems the sense of duty and desire to please the Imperial Empire started to snowball, feeding on itself until, choked on a sea of paperwork, there was nowhere to go but home.
Our arrival at the cargo terminal was met, once again by an army of agents, each one promising better service and cheaper prices. We fought bravely but allowed one to eventually show the way to the start. What followed was a three hour paper chase, with the luckless Ricky in the lead, having volunteered his name on the initial document. Each office was another round of introductions, hand shakes and an explanation of our needs. Another pause to read and reread our documents, checking for the required stamps, duplicates and signatures, calling superiors to double check and then a walk across the yard to yet another building. Repeat, go back to start and confirm original duplicates certified signature. An entire civilization feeding off itself in one big, self-replicating spiral drawing in but seemingly never letting things out. And then the wait in the Chief Superintended Preventative Collection Officer's office (I think I got that right) By this time we'd resorted to taking out the little Intermec Notebook computers and simply typing away while whoever contacted whomever to do whatever with our paperwork.
In between all this we had actually been reacquainted with our luggage but sadly only to open it for inspection. I think the shock was almost too much. And then back into the process until, after three hours (I kid you not) we emerged, luggage in hand with nothing to do but laugh at the system and look for the hidden camera... all that was missing was the Monty Python soundtrack. And so we broke for lunch, knowing the afternoon would bring a whole new circus in which we would try to get fuel to the planes. A simple task I hear you say...
Lunch in the airport canteen was great. The food was just what was needed and the gentleman at the table next door brought his grand-daughters over to show them our small computers. Talk about a small world, this gentleman, Dr Jamil Ater, had been to Cape Town in 1969 to work with Prof. Chris Barnard!
And then off, back into the officialdom of the airport. Our initial attempts to make it to the apron all lead down dead-ends until we were guided to the 5th floor and the hallowed halls of the CAA. Our path assigned security officer showed us into Mr. Tariq Rizvi's office, the manager of the control tower who's obvious passion for aviation showed in his collections of photo's and string of questions about our planes, the trip and everything in-between.
After tea in his office he took us to meet his superior, Mr. Fareed Ahmed, the Chief Operations Officer, another keen aviator and equally interested in our quest. To cut a long story short....no, we suffered, so will you.
An hour and a half later we had an official letter, on official paper, giving us access to the apron, our planes and the resources of the CAA, at no charge. Success you might believe, as did we, but wait, like some twisted infomercial, there is more. Our path to the apron was now clear, security merely nodding as we waved our official letter for all to see and with the planes all sorted, our last task was a ride across the apron in the 'follow me' truck, followed by a ride to the petrol station in a taxi and then back. But somewhere amongst the follow me's was a follow me to the station office where the complications of fueling an aircraft with car fuel became just too much for the station commander and what followed would surely keep straight jacket manufacturers in business for a long time. Phone calls back and forth, first customs, the immigration (for fuel?!?!?) then Shell Aviation by which time Ricky, to prevent the need for one of those sleeveless jackets, headed to the briefing office to sort out our flight plan, or to the roof to jump, only time would tell. I went outside and sat by the phone card salesmen and watched the world go by - the sweepers walking their endless routes to keep the floor clean, the elevator operators never changing their expressions and the traffic officer with the whistle, blowing it every 2 minutes 17 seconds, no matter who or what was in the drive through lane.
Eventually the station door burst open and a rather flustered looking official came running out, mumbling something about the big CAA chief wanting to talk to me. It was Mr. Fareed who had, by some past bad karma, been drawn into this apparently solutionless problem of fueling aircraft with car fuel... His voice was calm and I can only imagine the smile on his face. He had a solution, we'd simply get Shell Aviation to arrange the fuel. I thanked him and waited for Ricky to emerge from the briefing office or plummet from the top floor.
Sometime later he emerged with tales all of his own and, with the sunset in the background, set out in the back of the 'follow me' truck to Shell, where we finally just gave up and got them to fill the planes with over-priced AVGAS. Just to top it all off and make the day complete, when the AVGAS truck was all set up and ready to pump... nothing! The electric fuel pump had failed and we were left pumping the fuel by hand. Do I wish they served beer in this place!
Alan
Jan 27 2004
Karachi
Hello from Ricky
We have been pleasantly surprised to be able to access the web page directly ourselves for the first time at an internet cafe. Wow.
To date all the updates have been done by Bernice in Cape Town. Thanks Bernice for keeping things going.
We are in Karachi preparing to fly to India tomorrow if bureaucracy allows us. We had a day of unbelievable red tape which started at 9am this morning and only ended an hour ago at 9pm. Words cannot describe how complex the simplest of tasks can be until you get to this airport. We have decided the British caused the red tape the Pakistanis perfected it. The people are unbelievably friendly and kind. It is a pleasure being here but the airport....
If people ask where we are from we just mention Jonty Rhodes and the beaming smiles appear. The hustlers are even a pleasure and every sales team could learn a trick or two from them. Give them credit they are at least all trying to do something.
The next few days we are going to be heading towards Kathmandu in Nepal. It is a long stretch across India and will get progressively colder.
Once again sorry we can't reply to the emails because of the slow internet cafe's. Please keep the messages coming and send the web address to others.
There is something exciting about not knowing what tomorrow holds for us but the stability of home is an equally attractive notion. Missing everybody.
Cheers "The motorbike pilot" (Our contraptions have been regularly referred to as motor bikes of the sky)
Ricky
What happens to old ships? Ship graveyard near Karachi where the locals cut them up and sell the metal.
Jan 28 2004
Karachi
Pakistan
Day 44 - Jan 28
We had so much fun yesterday that we just couldn't bring ourselves to leave.... not quite, our Indian clearance only comes into effect on the 30th and since Pakistan and India have a history of border disputes and a tendency to have heavily armed aircraft on 24 hour stand-by, we thought it better to do things by the (very thick) book.
To be fair, yesterday's story may have given a slightly warped view on our experience here. Sure there is enough bureaucracy to make a paper salesman's life easy but despite this, or maybe because of it, the people have an unusually relaxed, easy way about them. The traffic for instance: An unguarded crossing make Mad Max look like a driver's educational video, with the cavalry charging in from every direction and sitting in the back of the bus, eyes shut and white knuckled, I have yet to determine how right of way is decided, and yet, even in situations that back home would have drawn base-ball bats and side arms, the divers simply hoot, smile and carry on. And you see a lot of that too, the smiling. There is almost an obsession with introductions. Everyone makes it a point when entering a room to shake hands, inquire sincerely about our health and insists on offering a chair and at least a cup of tea.
Today, amongst a few other errands, we hoped to find the next set of navigation charts. Before we'd even got properly dressed there was a knock at the door. One of the pilots we'd met in Gwadar had heard that these weird South Africans had had some problems and had made it his mission to track us down and make sure all was well. This after meeting him for no more than five minutes! He proceeded to give us the name of the man in charge of routes for PIA airlines and insisted that if we didn't come right, he'd sort thing out. Fortunately we're in the heart of Pakistan aviation and a five minute walk had us at the office, seated and offered tea. We explained our situation and after a brief discussion with his assistant, the Director of Route Planning smiled from behind the glasses perched on the end of his nose, handed us an envelope with just what we needed. At a very special price - the wear on our shoes to get there! Back at the airport we also got to see the other side of the agents. As the day wore on, we came to realise that the agents form an important and somewhat expensive tunnel through the mountain of paperwork. and through Tariq Rizvi, our unofficial patron in Pakistan, we got introduced to Group Captain Zia-Ur-Rehman, PAR (Retired) the Senior Operations Manager for Shaheen Airport Services, neatly groomed sitting behind his large desk, clearly an airforce man. His interest in our mission was instantly recognisable and without any further questions he ordered his assistant to see to it that our path onwards was taken care of, with his compliments.
For a large part of what remained of the day we hung around the operations room, not entirely because we needed to, but because they made the fatal mistake of having the best tea and feeding us an endless array of Pakistani traditional desserts and, like stray cats, we know when things are good. We eventually dragged ourselves away and finished the last of the arrangements so that tomorrow we can get a better idea of what lies beyond the airport and CAA village. Unlike some places where an extra day was truly disheartening (and not just for some poor decaying cat), here we can relax and enjoy a chance to recharge.
Alan
Ahmedabad
India
Day 46 - Jan 30
I figured out why the birds in Pakistan sing - They don't have to wait for clearance!
We got to the airport at 5am, thinking that would give us plenty of time... It started with questions about the Indian clearance, which required half an hour of sitting around until the preflight officer gave us the all clear. No idea what or how but obviously something happened. Then we waited for the agents to clear an incoming aircraft before leading us down to departures where our luggage was searched by no less than three separate departments as well as being x-rayed. Its hard to keep a straight face as some poor officer digs through the last week's dirty laundry.
We were dreading customs as Ricky's extremely valuable General Declaration (the document that replaces the visa for pilots) had gone missing in the cargo circus of a few days ago and without it, life promised to get very interesting. We stood in amazement as the customs official merely took our passports, looked at the pictures and stamped us out. No questions, forms or body cavity searches! Another 30 minute wait for the new General Declaration forms and we were at the planes, ready to roll.
Tariq had briefed the tower about our departure and the whole affair went like clockwork, especially seeing we were taking off at the busiest time of the day, right between all the seriously big planes. With the transponders on, we hardly had to talk and the controllers simply routed us on track and that was that.
We're compelled to fly VFR (visual flight rules) which basically means you need visual contact with the ground at all times. In Pakistan (and India as we were to find out), even on a clear day, this can be a problem.
For the first two hours the smog was so bad that, apart from the black ring around the horizon, we could only see the ground directly below us. I'd love to tell you what the rest of Pakistan looked like but I'd mostly just be guessing. This stuff is so bad that after landing we found a gray-brown deposit on all the metal bits of the plane - from the same air we'd been breathing for the past six hours.
The hand-over to Indian ATC went very easily and although we were out of range, a passing jet relayed our messages and we got the all clear. Very surprisingly and through only slightly less smog, the first few hours into India was over a weird desert-like landscape of winding marshes and whitish sand-bars. For over a hundred miles we looked down on what might just as well have been a foreign planet - no life, no colour and absolutely nowhere to land. And then, as if we crossed some unseen line, everything turned green and below us were the familiar small rural farms, scattered hamlets and all around signs of life. The GPS started to show a reasonable time left to Ahmedabad and just as well because for the past four hours we'd been sitting at about 4 degrees Celsius and having some feeling back in the feet was sounding like a good idea. Ahmedabad is a typical big city from the air, rows of flats, industrial areas and traffic; rows and rows of cars all heading somewhere with visible determination. We were given an ILS (Instrument Landing Approach) approach, something we have no equipment for and less idea how to perform. Thankfully there was no other traffic and we just landed the way we always do. No one was the wiser!
Expecting much the same as Karachi - agents, chaos and demand for money, we were almost disappointed when we taxied in, and were left alone on this massive apron. In the far corner we found a flying school, with two three-axis microlights and some very friendly pilots and students. Things were looking up again.
Sure enough we found a good place to park the planes (and ourselves), performed some scheduled maintenance and waited for the customs officials to come to us. In fact our only surprise was the immigration officer who insisted we have a visa, 1840 Rupees later... Oh well, at least we got it all done in an hour or two, including our first press interview off the African continent - We'll be very interested to see their spin on our trip. So tonight we're camping under the wing and feasting on biscuits and cooldrink. Tomorrow its another 5 hours to Bhopal and another day closer to Nepal. Alan
Jan 31 2004
Bhopal
India
Day 47 - Jan 31
That great idea of sleeping next to the aiplanes... We thought when they turned the lights out, the planes would stop arriving... at 5:30am we were still being woken every half hour by jet blast trying to put our tents with us in them, back in Pakistan. But as any flying enthusiast knows, the smell of freshly burned JET-A1 has a very desirable effect on the mind so we weren't complaining too much.
I'd like to say we saw more of India from the air today, but in truth the air was once again filthy and we had to delay our departure by several hours because the visibility was below minimum. We also has to go through the whole flight plan filing process, which included getting the forms stamped by customs and immigration, a ten minute walk to the other side of the airport. Not quite Pakistani stuff but still time consuming. Actually we have been impressed by the way that, although there is a lot of red tape here, the officials make decisions and get things done.
While on one of the trips to customs I met an American doctor who had arrived in a big group two days ago - of course half the luggage had gone astray and she had arrived today to collect bags for six of the group - not knowing that on the form it said that only the owner could collect... I'd love to have known how long it took to sort the mess out but we'd probably be in Australia by then.
As mentioned, our flight was once again through dense smog, so dense in fact that it almost makes one feel claustrophobic. And added to this we had some of the worst turbulence of the trip. For almost the entire four hour we bounced around, and no amount of climbing or descending made things better. We settled for 5 500 ft where it was bearably cold and the wind was favorable. I can't say the flight into Katmandu in two days time is going to be fun - we'll need to get over 10 000 ft and can look forward to something in the -5 degree celsius range. Time to dig out the thermal underwear, I think.
Bhopal came as a welcome sight and once again we were welcomed by very friendly officials and a bunch of instructors and students, all keen to get a look at these weird planes. Formalities out the way we arranged a vehicle to get to the hotel. If I complained about Pakistani drivers, I must apologise. Everyone on the roads here seems to have a death wish. Size, speed and attitude rule and getting through a traffic circle or into a busy cross street is simply a matter of 'going for it'. Thankfully the driver's constant hooting (and when I say constant, I mean from when he moved off right to when he stopped) drowned out what must have been girlish screams from Ricky and myself.
The first few hotels were a bit dodgy but the third was magnificent, cheap and... full! Damn, we settled for the next one, not just to get out the traffic but also because for the price we just couldn't do better. I think Djibouti may have made our hotel choices a lot easier. Here we are, in the lap of luxury for the price of three beers in our beloved Djibouti. These beds are a lot softer than last night's tarmac and the traffic, wedding ceremony and crowd noise outside has nothing on a 757 taxiing past.
Alan
Feb 1 2004
Bhopal
India
Day 48 Feb 1 The visibility that hangs around this place was just too much this morning. By 9am it had limited visibility to under 1000 meters which meant we were not going anywhere - well not until it clears, and with thing being done very much by the book, we'd need a minimum of 3 000 meters before we could even ask for special clearance and 5 000 meters for full VFR flying.
As the morning dragged on it became more and more apparent that we'd be spending another day in Bhopal so we unpacked, made ourselves comfortable and started taking care of a few maintenance items that needed doing - sewing up zips that had been taking strain under the ridiculous load we're carrying, checking radio's and otherwise just getting rid of little irritations. Shortly after lunch a few vehicles arrived and we were introduced to Aditya Dubey, the Asst. Insp. Gen. of Police for Madhya Pradesh, a model aircraft and microlight enthusiast and Wing Commander Pragat Singh, an ex-army fighter and helicopter pilot who had just relocated to Bhopal to take up a position flying helicopters for the government.
Both men were fascinated by our expedition and in no time had an impromptu press conference organised with Ricky and myself dressed up and ready to chat. In total 5 TV crews and a half-dozen newspaper people arrived, making us feel like we were back at Thunder City in Cape Town all over again.
Of course they requested a flying demonstration and having done nothing but straight and level flying for most of the past 50 odd days it was a chance to have some fun. The ATC seemed a bit confused by a request to simply fly with no flight plan or real purpose but after an explanation and a promise to pay the landing fees we got the all clear and got to buzz around for a few minutes, keeping careful sight of the runway at the ATC's request and hopefully not breaking too many local flying protocols. It was also a great opportunity to get a better view of Bhopal, built around a beautiful lake and clearly split into the old city and the new. Something that is very striking in India is the divide between the classes with huge villas built on plots the same size as entire squatter settlements probably housing thousands. Looking down at the population density its easy to see where the smoke that causes the hazy visibility comes from.
Back down to earth we finished the interviews with the poor security guards running around trying to tell the photographers where they could and couldn't take pictures, less some state secret hiding in the back of the motor pool hangar be revealed and lead to the fall of India just when they were about to make peace with Pakistan (and start the first cricket test series in far too long)... With all the fuss and bother around the interviews, we had no problem getting back to the hotel, the drivers almost coming to blows as to who would get to drive the somewhat bewildered celebrities around. Finally one of Mr. Dubey's students, Rajesh, got the task and took us on a quick guided tour of the city, explaining in more detail the terrible tragedy of the 1984 gas disaster and how they had had to vacate the city for a full month while things were cleaned up - putting a human face to something as enormous as that really gives it another perspective. Along the way Rajesh shared a local proverb with us that probably helped explain the fascination with our trip - "Learning makes the half-man, Writing makes the full man but Travel makes the complete man.”
Back at the hotel we'd arranged (or should I say we were told) to meet the Wing Commander and Assistant Inspector for dinner which left just enough time for a shower. By shortly after 8 everyone had arrived and what followed was a fascinating evening of shared stories and dreams. It turned out Pragat was a veteran of the Indo-Pakistan war and had over 7 000 hours of helicopter time under his belt. His soft spokeness and kind nature seemed almost out of place as he explained the intricacies of landing a helicopter at 19 000 ft while doing troupe support.
The Assistant Inspector too is a remarkable man. An ex Physics professor who had been building and flying Radio Conntrolled models for many years and had taken it upon himself to teach others and develop an entire following. His next project probably explained his interest in our exploits - he is now busy securing land for an adventure and recreational flying club where he hopes to introduce amongst other things, microlight flying! Seeing such ambition and drive is inspirational. We'll be following his efforts and hopefully returning one day to see how things are going or maybe join in on a fly-away.
Something that is hard to describe is how welcome everyone we have met in India has made us feel. Everywhere we have been we have been treated almost like royalty, even before the press arrived and the open smiles and courteous greetings will long be remembered. The sense of family and respect is so blatantly obvious wherever we go and maybe its just so entrenched that by now we're feeling part of the family.
Alan
Day 49 - Feb 2
With yesterday turning into such an unexpectedly good day, we woke to find the sky almost clear (5 000 meters visibility) and our driver already waiting downstairs. The back page of the morning paper also had a half page story about our trip complete with colour photo's - something of a reality check.
With today being Eid-ul-Zuha and therefore a public holiday, the roads were all but deserted and our ride to the airfield an absolute pleasure. Clearly everyone there had read the paper and we got genuine red-carpet treatment. One TV crew was back to film our departure and the guys in the tower had us cleared to go in no time at all. In fact all that was missing to make the day perfect was air temperature. Right from take-off it was freezing (well actually at 7 000 ft it was technically freezing but you get the idea...). With our African Nature Clothing winter suits on, our bodies were fine but all the bits sticking out took a hammering. The temperature itself wasn't too bad but the fact that the flight lasted for 5 1/2 hours took its toll. After 3 hours pretty much all feeling had gone from hands, feet and face and for the remainder of the flight we just had to sit it out. Tomorrow we'll definitely have more packing space as I'm sure we'll be wearing every inch of clothing to survive the 10 000+ ft climb into Katmandu. Rumour has it we might even be flying over some snow covered peaks.
The landscape from start to finish was a uniform scene of farm lands, rivers and dams broken only by the odd small village. To put things in perspective, we are over 1 000km from the sea and the land is only 400 ft above sea level - we're talking seriously flat land here. An amazing feature if the canals used to control floods and irrigate the land. These massive concrete rivers snake across the landscape with natural rivers being routed ether under or over in tunnels or bridges, as their flow dictates - quite incredible.
At Lucknow the visibility was down to 3 000 meters but we got special clearance (I think its the norm here) and were all too happy to descend to warmer air and a chance to stretch the legs and get feeling back into places we'd started to miss.
Once again we bumped into some pilots from Patna on a cross country flight and they offered to help us get some fuel. They confirmed that the airport taxis were a rip off and that, while Ricky went to organise our customs and immigration clearance for tomorrow, they'd walk with me to the main street and find local transport to the petrol station. What followed still has me impressed. A total of five of us were going to get petrol with five 25 liter cans - quite a load, so I assumed we would stop at least a minibus. No ways - the first to arrive on the scene was a local Tuk-Tuk (a three wheeled scooter type contraption probably designed to carry about 100kg at best) Once again I assumed I'd proceed alone with the cans... Once again - NO WAY! One by one, each of the other four people somehow managed to squeeze in and I still don't know exactly where the cans got loaded. And then, load and all, we headed into much the same traffic we'd been traumatised by in Bhopal. Weaving between trucks, donkey cars and bicycles, hooter blearing and not much in the way of any visible lighting, we headed to the nearest filling station and we spilled one at a time onto the forecourt, filled the cans, adding 125kg to the load and repeating the process back to the airport. The look on Ricky's face when he saw the total load standing next to the tuk-tuk said it all.
Our expired visas once again got questioned but instead of arguing, we took the opportunity to have the immigration insist that we stayed at the airport, thereby securing a free night's accommodation - in the VIP lounge once again. We're getting good at this! So tonight we'll dream of polar bears, sardines and indicators on the navigation map that the mountain peaks reach almost 30 000 ft! Alan
Feb 3 2004
Kathmandu
Nepal
Day 50 - Feb 3 I'm sitting here in absolute awe, trying to figure out how to put today in words. Maybe sharing what I can see through the hotel window will put things in perceptive: outside the window lies Kathmandu, its buildings a multitude of colours all lit by the amber setting sun, the trees in the hotel garden alive with the sounds of birds heading home and all of this framed by the indescribably magnificence of the snow covered Himalayas dwarfing everything else.
If at any time during the past 50 days there has been a 'reality check' as to the magnitude of the task we've taken on, it was today as we climbed out through the haze around Lucknow, the morning formalities a thing of the past, and suddenly there, on the horizon, some 200 miles away, the towering peaks with their crisp white covering appeared as if by magic.
The contrast of the murky haze and white mountains a strange paradox but at the same time a dream that was suddenly right there for the taking.
The flight itself was far better than we could have possibly asked for, 30 knot tailwinds, no turbulence and clear blue above the haze. What might have been a six hour flight was reduced to a little under 4 and even the air temperature right until we had to climb to get into Kathmandu was strangely bearable.
Entering Nepal had an almost mystical feel about it. Right past the border, as the land started to slope up to the foothills, the air started to clear, giving us a very privileged view of the absolute magnificence and at the same time, humbling spectacle of the Himalayas. The foothills are carved into flowing terraces and amazing roads wind from small villages up to habitation right to the tops of the hills. This also signaled the start of our climb, 9 500 ft being the minimum required to get into Kathmandu. With a backdrop of snowy peaks we had no doubt about the temperature higher up but with only 25 minutes to go we couldn't really complain.
Kathmandu lies at 4 500 ft in the middle of what looks like a giant bowl so the approach is fairly unique - we kept climbing, the GPS showing 11 miles to go and still no sight of any civilization. And then, just as we cleared the last ridge Kathmandu came into full view. I don't think either of us knew what to expect but I was certainly taken by surprise by the size of the city - buildings, traffic, people and every now and then, on higher ground or prominent places, the domed temples, stopas and places of worship that make Kathmandu famous. From the edge of the ridge, sitting at 9 500 ft, we started our descent and touched down after a very memorable 4 hours flying.
On the ground we were met by the usual crowd of curious apron staff and within minutes Deepti and Stephan from the Nepal Avia Club arrived and briefed us on the program for the afternoon. Arriving in a country where we were not only expected but also being taken care of was something we were completely unused to.
The usual two hours of securing aircraft, clearing customs and just getting our head on the ground between smiling for the cameras was followed by an amazing welcome in the VIP lounge. A group of journalists were waiting for us and presented us with flowers and silk Khadas, traditional scarves given to travelers as a token of good luck. What followed was a very casual press conference and probably as much of a chance for us to meet the locals as they had to meet us.
Conference over, we made our way by Jeep to the hotel and on route got a brief glimpse of the city. It was rush hour and were met with the traffic we had come to expect but the slow drive gives us a chance to take in some of the sights and sounds - probably the most striking feature of the buildings were the intricate woodwork that covers the windows, doors and awnings. Even the houses had some kind of magic about them.
After checking in and having a much needed clean-up (shower doesn't quite describe it) we headed for supper with Stephan and Deepti and spent the evening swapping stories about flying, our cultures and life in general. We finished the evening with a ride around town to get a bit orientated and see some of the major landmarks and then headed for the hotel to pass out.
Alan
Feb 5 2004
Kathmandu
Nepal
Day 52 - Feb 5 An early morning in a hotel in Kathmandu doesn't feel quite as bad as, let say waking up next to a 757 taxiing by; add to this the thought of a short flight through the mountains to Pokhara and getting up becomes quite easy. Easy that is, until you step outside and feel just how crisp the mountain air really is! And we'll still be climbing another few thousand feet...
At the airport we get to the planes easily enough seeing as most people there have either seen us in the paper or on TV by now.... (our 15 minutes of fame at last!!!! better make the most of it) We sort out a few hassles with the radio (maybe also not used to the cold?) and take off looking more like spacemen than pilots with just about every piece of clothing we have on. Climbing out over the city we've now had a chance to explore gives the buildings and sights a lot more relevance. We even manage to identify the King's Palace, a no-fly zone, and manage to take avoiding action before incurring any of the ATC's wrath. The entire valley is surrounded by broken cloud and we route accordingly to avoid getting into some place we can't get out of.
As we climb the cold starts to bite at every inch of skin that isn't carefully wrapped and even the slightest leak in the flying suit feels like a needle being pressed slowly in. By 8 500ft, our minimum safe altitude to get out, the air is down to -2 degrees and just taking a hand out to press the PTT (press to talk) button for the radio is a painful experience.
Below us the beautifully terraced rice paddies and other mountain agriculture rolls by with the occasional small village and monastery looking complex, all nestled between the Himalayan foothills but providing only a brief distraction from the cold. To our left, when gaps in the clouds permit, we catch glimpses of the real mountains, towering up, distinctly outlined in brilliant white snow. After 45 minutes of this we're just about at our limit and having cleared the hills and got to the lower ground that surrounds Pokhara, we request a descent and drop to 6500 ft where its a toasty 5 degrees. With the feeling slowly returning to out extremities we reach the Pokhara valley and through the haze the first landmark to catch our eyes is the International Peace Pagoda, perched on top of a hill towards the west of the town. We find the runway and line up with the Avia Club's hangar and welcoming party just off to the left. Our arrival in Pokhara makes everything to date seem insignificant - Khada after khada, heaps of flowers and a good round of hand-shakes that help to get the blood back to the fingers. I don't even have time to take my helmet off which might be a good thing because my face is so numb I can't even tell if the cold has made my nose run...
With Deepti once again at the helm, we quickly tie the planes down and rush off to get settled at the Avia Club's crew quarters before making our way to a lunch organised for the launch of the International Mountaineering Museum in the town. Over lunch we get a better chance to meet the local crew including Natasha and all the Russian pilots. Despite some language problems, the obvious love of all things flying come through and its interesting to chat to Tupalov (Russian Aircraft) pilots who trained on Migs and now fly trikes when they get a chance.
After lunch we take a quiet walk through the town which, despite similar architecture and people, is about as far from Kathmandu as Knysna is from Johannesburg. Pokhara has a relaxed, almost sleepy feel about it with hardly any traffic and, although a tourist hub, with none of the commercial, pressure feeling that places like this normally have. The tourist shops are interspersed with traditional houses and daily life goes on around the strangely dressed trekkers. We stop to watch an old lady spinning wool and Ricky even has a chance to get his boots polished. We get home just after sunset and head for the Fulbari Hotel, a magnificent creation that despite its enormity just fits in, with out a doubt the most impressive hotel we've seen on the entire trip. We've been invited to the gala dinner for the IMA (International Mountaineering Association) launch and get treated to traditional Nepali and Japanese music and dance between speeches and a layout of Nepali food that just has to be tried. I think any weight we lost on the way up here is safely back in place. I think many view Nepal as a kind of spiritual refuge, a place to recover and recharge from modern life and I have to confess that whether by careful planning or just our dumb luck, it certainly serves as the ideal place to mark the most northern part of our current leg and the best place to regain our composure for a few days before heading back south to Australia.
Alan
Feb 6 2004
Pokhara
A year ago while we were organizing the expedition I came across a web page about microlighting in Nepal. The web page was about the Avia Club of Nepal (www.avianepal.21bc.com) We contacted them and they responded very positively with an invitation for us to come to Nepal on our expedition. There were reservations about the cold temperatures and high mountains and it would be a few days off the planned track but why not? The world is our play ground and Nepal has always been a destination of great appeal. A mystical country in the Himalayan mountains.
The Avia club arranged our permits (Flight clearances occupy 80% of our time so you can imagine how we appreciated this) which was a huge achievement as no foreign private aviation has flown into Nepal. With the support of the Tourism Board, they got the co-operation of Civil Aviation to approve the flight. A huge thank you to these authorities and Natasha from the Avia club for arranging the permission.
After several frustrating hours of fighting with Indian bureaucracy we headed out of Lucknow, in India, towards Kathmandu. We knew that we would have to climb over 10 000 ft to get into Kathmandu but were delaying the climb as it was freezing at about 8000ft. India is clouded in unbelievable smog up to about 6000ft so we maintained that level for a balance in visibility and temperature. After an hours flying we noticed what looked like white clouds on the horizon. It was the snow capped peaks of the Himalayas. As we got closer it developed into dramatic scenery of the several major peaks such as the Annapurna, all in excess of 20 000ft. The last hour of the flight we climbed to 9500 ft to get over the mountains surrounding the Kathmandu valley.
We landed and were met by Deepti and Stephan from the Avia club. There was a shuffle to find a secure position for the microlights and off we were ushered to the first introductions to the press. We were covered in flower garlands and silk scarves which made us feel like celebrities.
Little did we realize that this was only the beginning. Deepti and Stephan quickly made us feel at home. The next morning it was a conference with the Civil Aviation, Tourism, journalists and TV. It was quite daunting for us scruffy little South African boys. We spent the rest of the day with Deepti and Stephan sight seeing around Kathmandu.
The following day we were given priority above the Boeings etc at take off as we left for Pokhara. A short 1hr 30min flight along the massive Himalayas to Pokhara. It was increasingly beautiful scenery that unfolded around us. The Pokhara town and valley is a low lying area with rivers, lakes and amazingly terraced hills. Probably the most impressive setting we have seen yet. Pokhara turned out to be a perfect Himalayan play ground for every adventure sport and recreation, yet still maintains the atmosphere of the Nepali peoples calm and friendly nature.
On landing we were introduced to the Avia Club and it's Russian pilots and technicians. Natasha has set up microlighting adventure flights for tourists who want to experience flying around the Himalayas in an open cockpit little microlight. A really professional setup. The microlights are Russian manufactured and are the most advanced designs we have seen. Deepti arranged for us to have lunch with local dignitaries in conjunction with the mountaineering association which was having it's annual conference. Time was spent communicating with the Russian pilots and asking about navigators for the East Russian section of our trip. (The Russian authorities insist that we have a navigator on the microlight with us and hopefully that means only one of the microlights). They emailed some connections in Russia and hopefully something will come of it.
The following day Natasha arranged for us to do a paragliding flight. Being a hang glider pilot I have reservations about these floppy top thingies but as we were drove higher and higher up the mountains I got more enthusiastic. They have the perfect environment for paragliding. We flew tandem for about twenty minutes above a lake and villages. Landing was on the road next to a restaurant where drinks were served. Stylish or what?
That evening we join the mountaineering associations conference for dinner at a beautiful five star hotel called the Fulbari hotel. It is set on a plateau below the Himalayas and on the edge of the cliffs of a deep river gorge. It is an outstanding setting with 360 degrees of stunning scenery. Later we were shown around the hotel and up to the rooms all of which were very impressive. This is the hotel to stay at for anyone visiting this area. Perfect in everyway.
The next morning we were up early and went for a flight in formation together with the Avia Club microlighters. We flew around the area towards the Anapurna and the surrounding Himalayan peaks, gradually climbing higher but feeling smaller as we got closer. This was the most beautiful flying we have done. For a tourist to fly around these Himalayan mountains with the Avia club microlights must be one of the worlds top adventure experiences.
Later Deepti and Stephan had organized a special conference with the Civil Aviation Authorities, Tourism board, the Mayor of Pokhara and news paper journalists specifically to welcome us to Nepal. It was a big surprise for us and once again we felt like dignitaries. We were presented with Nepalese tokens of well wishes and good luck. An even bigger surprise came when were given a complimentary night in the Fulbari Hotel by the hotel management. ( Wow oh wow! After dingy truck stops in Ethiopia, rat holes in Djibouti and sleeping on tar aprons being jet blasted awake. What an amazing surprise.) Picture waking up in a luxurious setting with the huge Himalayan scenery outside the bedroom window. Well that is the Fulbari Hotel in Pokhara. This needs to be placed high on the list of travel destinations.
The next day we struggled to say farewell and tried to express our appreciation for all that everyone had done for us. As we said our good-byes we were surprised when the Russian crew gave us some Roubles to help with our flight through Russia.
We had made some really special friends and Nepal will remain a very special country in our expedition.
Cheers Ricky (The scooter pilot)
Feb 9 2004
Pokhara
Nepal
Day 56 - Feb 9 Its hard to put into words our experience in Nepal and in Pokhara in particular. From our arrival here we've been treated better than royalty and the Avia Club has become our second home. To try to recall everything we've seen and done would just take too long and probably loose a lot in translation so what follows are a few of the highlights of the past few days.
Avia Club (www.avianepal.21bc.com) - without them we'd never have got into Nepal and with Natasha and Deepti's persistence we became the first private, non-Nepali pilots to fly though Nepal. Seeing the mountains, the villages perched high up the slopes, the constant white tips of the Himalayas and the never ending terraced rice paddies from the front seat of a microlight is a privilege that thanks to the Avia Club, we won't be the only ones to enjoy. If you've ever wanted to get close to the BIG mountains but don't fancy climbing for days, a microlight flight with the Avia Club is a must.
Tandem Paragliding - Soaring over the mountains and lakes at one with nature and not having to watch EGT's, oil pressure and worry about weather. Having Ilya, one of the Russian microlight pilots as the paraglider pilot also added to the fun. Our broken English communication, hand signals and wild gestures probably confused those left below but who cares. The professional approach of Sunrise Paragliding even took care of Ricky's paranoia about giving up control. Of course the backdrop of the Himalayas did add something special too.
Pokhara - Kathmandu might be the central point in Nepal that everyone knows about but to get a personal feel for Nepal in a relaxed and comfortable manner, Pokhara has to be visited. The uncrowded streets, plentiful hotels and guest houses, friendly people and enough activities to make a second or third visit needed, make it the place to be. Even the Lakeside district with its markets and tourist restaurants has an unpressured charm, allowing hours to be whiled away and maybe a chance to lighten the wallet.
Fulbari Hotel - We were very privileged and extremely spoilt to spend a night at the Fulbari. Most of the big, fancy hotels often feel out of place but here everything seems to fit. The beautiful gardens seem to just rise out of the valley and the hotel with its intricate wood carvings, traditional religious symbols and brilliant use of space could easily be a royal palace - and that's about the way we got treated. Of course on the downside it will make returning to our $5 normal hotels a bit hard to swallow. Waking up to the sight of a sunrise on the Himalayas can't be beat.
The Nepali people - right from the welcome of garlands and khadas to the gifts at our farewell, we were made to feel completely at home. The difficult part is being told to stop saying thank you. At the Avia club we really became part of the family and once Deepti's efforts got us all over the news, even the sternest of security guards would break into a smile at our approach and wave us past without even asking for ID.
The Russian pilots too - I doubt ten years ago we'd even have been able to speak to them but by the time we leave, we have a great new group of friends and an offer to find us the Russian navigator we'll need later.
The Himalayas - need I say more. Get to Nepal and have a look for yourself!
Alan
Feb 9 2004
Kathmandu(In the heaven of Nepal)
Hi From Ricky (The scooter pilot)
Apologies for the updates being a bit slow but exciting things have been happening on this side and we have had a hectic schedule arranged by our little task master "Deepti" Basically we have been invited to Nepal by the Avia club of Nepal. Deepti is the marketing manager of this club and boy can she arrange things! She is cute and tiny but huge dynamite. On arrival we met by stacks of journalists and TV crews and have been on Nepal TV news and front pages of the newspapers. All arranged by Deepti. It has been a fantastic reception. Deepti has kept us on our toes nonstop.
We arrived in Kathmandu on the 3rd of Feb. Flying through India was great, the area is all low and absolutely flat. Stacks of pollution though. We left Lucknow in Northern India and headed to Kathmandu. After one hour we noticed what looked like huge clouds in the distance and it took us a while to realise that it was the Himalayas covered in snow. To get into Kathmandu we had to climb the last hour to 9500 feet to get over the mountains into the valley of city. It was below freezing and we struggled with this temperature.
The following day we spent in Kathmandu and were welcomed to Nepal at another press conference arranged by the tourism and civil aviation boards and Deepti. We felt like celebrities and only later found out that this was only the beginning. The following day we flew west to a town called Pokhara. This is a beautiful relaxed Himalayan town set in a valley below the Annapurna peaks with rivers, lakes and everything that makes Nepal such a special place. The scenery is breath taking, the people extremely friendly and every sort of adventure sport imaginable. It is the most impressive destination we have been to so far and I think it will remain amongst the best.
There is so much to write but are unable to do it right now because Deepti is chasing me to the next arrangement. We promise to get it written and tell you about the paragliding and how we landed up staying at the Fulbari Hotel (Five Star. Best Hotel in Nepal) and most of all the Avia Microlighting Club (The little Russian outpost in Pokhara).
It has been a fantastic non-stop, stop over
Cheers
Ricky
Feb 10 2004
Patna
India
Day 57 - February 10 Waking up in the Kathmandu Guest House was a strange experience, we'd arrived at this place full of character, right in the heart of Kathmandu and yet by seven 'o clock there was still no traffic noise - surely not! The layout of this place, around a central courtyard well off the street means you might just as well be in the bush, away from the hustle just outside. Not all that bad.
We had some time to spare, realising that the visibility wouldn't allow for an early take-off and that the flight to Patna was only two hours so Ricky took to the internet to finalise some clearances and then gave in and had a haircut! I'm still fighting off a bit of a cold so I just took it easy and enjoyed breakfast while waiting for Deepti and Stephen.
Sitting outside the Kathmandu Guest House provides enough entertainment to while away many hours. The place itself really looks the part with every pillar a decorate work of woodcarving art and the entrance yard a scattering of tour operators, eating places and a constant flow of tourists, each there on their own mission. Deciding what the mission is isn't too hard - the trekkers, kitted out with all the gear, folding and unfolding maps and generally talking in German; the pilgrims out to learn more about life, the universe and over-priced taxies, wrapped in what looks like old curtains and often sporting a new tattoo, piercing or other form of body art; and then there are the students, off to see the world, labouring under back-packs, often in clothes dirtier than ours and clinging to a cup of coffee, a clear indication that somewhere out there, Kathmandu has a nightlife!
In the back of Stephen's car on the way to the airport it was obvious that we'd left the quiet streets f Pokhara. The traffic oozing forward with no distinction as to where the one way stopped and the other started. When space on the road is limited by all the trucks, busses and cars, the motorbikes simply take to the sidewalk or oncoming lanes. Stephen commented that it was hard to be a driver in Kathmandu. I suggested it was harder to be a passenger...
At the airport we had the usual formalities to take care of but underestimated the wait for a gap in the air traffic - seems they like tar surfaces to be busy in Kathmandu. Just trying to talk to the controller was a battle with at least 20 aircraft ahead and more trying to squeeze in, we eventually got the go-ahead and followed a Buddha Air 1900D out to the runway and were off.
The climb-out was interesting - apart from keeping an ear out for traffic from behind, we had to climb hard to get out the valley. We'd got clearance to 7500 ft but a straight line out needs to be closer to 10 000 ft. No problem though as we followed the maze of hills and valleys that lead to lower ground, all a patchwork of terraces and roads and on the steeper slopes traces of the indigenous forests we'd see out towards Pokhara. Out the valley and back down to the low lands below the sky once again turned brown and we knew that India lay ahead. For the next hour and a bit we watched as the visibility slowly decreased to the point that as we passed over the Ganges at 2000 ft, the water was barely distinguishable from the land and without the reflection of the afternoon sun we might have missed it.
Our arrival at Patna went smoothly, probably because they were preparing for the Prime Minister to leave and everything and everyone was ship-shape. Even the immigration and customs went without a hitch and right now we're sitting in the airport restaurant, enjoying some much needed food and waiting for the pilot we met in Lucknow to arrive and hopefully find a soft place to sleep - bit of a reality check after places like the Fulbari...
Footnote Good news: Puneet, the pilot we met earlier arrived to lend a hand.
Bad news: Too late to organise place to sleep at airport
Good news: He has transport
Bad news: Three people, one motorcycle
Good news: No PROBLEM!
Very bad news: Indian traffic
Temporary good news: We find motorised Riksha and Ricky gets in to follow us
Extremely bad news: We loose Ricky, in city of a couple of million with no idea of his Indian
cell phone number and with him having no Indian Rupees to pay taxi
Unbelievably good news: We wait at the train station where we were to find a hotel and Ricky
comes waling down the middle of the road, having paid confused taxi driver with Nepal money
Good news: We find relatively good hotel at reasonable price close to train station
Bad news: Train station very active and we find out that train drivers share car drivers passion
for hooting at every conceivable opportunity
Good news: We're too tired to care and sleep through most of it!
Alan
Patna
India
Day 58 - February 11 If nothing else, the weather in India is consistent and we wake to find a soup-like haze outside that makes it difficult to see the cows having their morning dig through the trash across the street.
Puneet calls to confirm our observation and any hope of an early take-off but invites us to his house for breakfast. Just another example of how generous and helpful people here are. We arrange to meet him at the airport and make our way to the street and brace for entry into the traffic in another tuk-tuk. Sitting behind your computer it would be hard to imagine what the road situation here is like but picture your study being hit by a major earthquake, overrun by farm animals, placed in the middle of the worst rush-hour traffic and surrounded by everything from road-side abattoirs to rubbish dumps. Oh, and not to forget that some hooter/siren manufacturer is using it for volume testing...
A double lane road simply means there are two lanes for traffic in both directions and traffic entering from the side simply does so by hooting, looking forward and heading in. A glance at the drivers dash-board revealed a possible explanation for the limited number of car wrecks and twisted, rotting corpses; where the usual instruments would be, were an array of Hindu gods, obviously helping out with the day to day operation of the vehicle - the one with many hands, the mechanic; the one with many heads clearly the navigator and the one on Valium possibly a former passenger.
We get to Puneet's place and his wife, Taruna, has prepared an amazing breakfast of (not too spicy) fried rice followed by special roti and kurd - not what we are used to but absolutely delicious. Puneet and Taruna are newly married and live in an apartment not too far from the airport. From the window we can see the incredible diversity of life happening all around. The one thing India is not short of is people.
Back into the traffic but this time on a pedal riksha - we wonder if Puneet is doing this for a laugh but the ride isn't bad at all and Ricky and I toy with the idea of shipping a few of these guys over to Cape Town for the Argus cycle race, with the possibility of renting out the back seats!
At the airport the weather isn't looking any better and we resign ourselves to another day in Patna and just as well because the immigration officials have woken up to the fact that our visas have expired (wasn't a problem last night with General Declarations. and all) but today we need to find a solution. The chief immigration official is on hand, a very serious looking gentleman who seems to communicate by a series of grunts and we have no choice but to "Please wait" while he takes a few hours to page through our passports half a dozen times, study volume after volume of immigration procedural documentation (we'll have to speak to the British about this when we get there) and study, in detail, our rather moth-eaten Temporary Landing Permit, issued in Ahmendabad. After much grunting, paging and writing on loose pieces of paper, he comes to the conclusion that we each need another Temporary Landing Permit, at $40 each, and that its best to do that in the morning. Oh well, 'More is nog 'n dag.' (Tomorrow is another day).
Up in the tower the ATC was far more understanding and in no time flight plans and formalities were settled for a take-off as soon as the weather permitted tomorrow. The rest of the afternoon was spent turning another riksha into a fuel tanker and getting the planes 100% for tomorrow's 5 hour flight to Kolcuta (Calcutta if you own a dated atlas...) So now we're back in the airport restaurant, sipping ice cold Indian beer and waiting for Puneet, who's wife is away tonight and has offered us his spare room. We've packed light for the ride there!
Alan
Feb 12 2004
Calcutta
India
Day 59 - February 12 Once again a perfect day in India just wouldn't be complete without a pile of paperwork and a mile of red tape. All our work yesterday did very little other than prepare us for more. Arranging the officials to be there by 8am meant that they arrived like clockwork at 9 or shortly thereafter but at least the customs officer could see the humour and actually helped quite a bit.
Dressed in his 1960's dark red suit and walking like he didn't get it all the way off the hangar, he lead us in and out of security to make sure that every stamp, signature and duplicate was in place until, at 11:30am we were ready for our 8:30 take-off. And then, after having got the flight plan signed off by ATC, they still enquired whether we had completed all formalities - I couldn't tell, but just maybe they were having some fun too.
The flight itself was nothing spectacular. Flying though the haze with no ground reference beyond 2 miles means having to rely on the GPS and compass, and to fly in a straight line, most of the time is spent checking the instruments. This doesn't make for very relaxing flying but with a hazy view of everything below, at least it kills the time.
Thanks goodness for the tailwind which cut nearly two hours off the flight and a small ridge of mountains that broke the otherwise flat carpet of farmlands below. Calcutta, or Kolkata finally appeared out of the brown air, a maze of buildings and streets with traffic that made the idea of getting to ground level even less appealing. Even from a blurred 2000 ft we could see the mayhem of cars, trucks and people moving like ants over a picnic table.
Landing at Kolkata was made easy by the ATC holding two big passenger planes for us, something they seem happy to do. On finals we were close enough to give the captains a wave in appreciation and even got a wave back. The ground controllers had seen microlights here before, when the likes of Collin Bodell and Brian Milton came through, so they directed us to the maintenance hangars and were very helpful in letting us secure the trikes as we liked. Of course the officials jumped at the chance to get more paperwork and we had to ask customs to give us a minute just to get out of our flying suits.
We're starting to get the hang of the bureaucracy and have adopted the view that you have two choices - you either get all tense and fight the system, or learn the systems and find the best way to get them to work and go with it. Certainly a good start is to have too much paperwork than too little, nothing makes a desk-driver happier than handing him a fat pile of papers that he can page through and eventually stamp and sign. Asking for help can also make them feel important and get things moving. Best of all is if you can get them to smile. Once that's done things generally move forward and often they'll even assist in getting the next step moving. And you have to learn to drink tea and not murder someone when they say 'Sit down please'...
Alan
Feb 13 2004
Calcutta
India
Day 60 - February 13
Friday the 13th... so guess what? Yup, more bureaucracy. It's Friday, and Bangladesh is a
Moslem country so no one to issue flight clearances and even the local embassy closes at 11:30am (we found this out at 11:25 with an hour taxi ride ahead.... Looks like we're visiting Kolkata for a day or two.
We started at the airport, realising it was going to be a full day's work and had this confirmed at the Airports Company office. The officer there was actually very helpful, giving us a detailed list of what needed doing and where to do it. He also smiles when we confessed that we had no handling agent but did have plenty of time.
"You'll need it, probably five hours of paperwork ahead!" With at least the whole of tomorrow to kill, we decided firstly to get official entry permits to the airport that will allow us to move freely - three hours of security checks later and we'll be able to collect them in the morning.
Tonight we'll make some really smart looking paper work and tomorrow we'll start getting it signed and stamped.
Alan
Feb 14 2004
Calcutta
India
Day 61 - Feb 14
Ah, Valentine's day, a time for roses, cards, love and .... our first dose of serious stomach problems. A late lunch and early evening last night meant we took things easy and played it safe by eating some dry and canned food. Seems one can wasn't so good after all.
For the sake of decency we'll avoid graphic descriptions of the day's proceedings but suffice to say we both made good friends with the bathroom and didn't get too much done for the day.
Thankfully our first aid kits had what was needed and by evening we'd got things under control and had lost the fear of sneezing.
Alan
Feb 14 2004
Calcutta
Hi From Scooter Pilot (Stand back Spiderman, Buzz Lightyear etc.)
This is a little Hello from the gallows of Calcutta.
We have just confirmed our flight clearance into Bangladesh and are keen to get going except for a little stomach bug that has stepped into our system. In other words we have discovered how everybody around here stays so thin.
A little resume' of our experience of India.
Firstly the bad side. Pollution and litter are a big problem here. We can hardly see the ground while flying and it is quite difficult to breath when we descend into the pollution. But this is not the worst. The absolute worst are the officials. It is not possible for a human brain to degenerate to.............. OK! OK! So we are feeling tense about these "gentlemen".
Let me give you an example. We arrived in Calcutta from Patna. A domestic flight. We walked in the airport door and an immigration "gentleman" comes up to us and asks questions. We explain that we are on a domestic flight. He insists on some declaration or official form and that we declare that there are no fire arms, narcotics, ammunition blah! blah! blah!.. on the aircraft. I frustratingly started pulling papers out of my admin folder and he saw a piece of paper with an official stamp on it (I had put it aside to throw away) and went into a frenzy of excitement. (We thought he had an attack of rabies). We gave it to him and he was happy. Off we went in absolute bewilderment. Advice for anyone flying through this area. Wear a white shirt with lots of little noddy badges on the lapels and spaghetti splattering that looks like medals awarded for something, on the chest, put any title in front of your name, have lots of paper, carbon paper and a Chinese rubber stamp. You will move through this country being treated like royalty and be the high light of many officials lives.
It is not all bad. India is definitely a fascinating country once out of the clutches of officialdom. The Indian people are very kind and understanding people with lots of amazing tradition and culture. I admire there calm nature. (For those of you who know how excitable I can be, please stop laughing) The drivers even seem to be calm when they persistently hoot.
We have also had some great fun driving around on tuk,tuks and me getting lost at a tuk,tuk/taxi rank late at night with no money to pay the irate driver. Accommodation has been nice and reasonably priced. (and that’s from me the Portgie,miser).
Oops! Stanby............ That was Alan rushing out of the internet cafe to get to the hotel facilities. He seems to be in worse shape than me so I had better put on my nursing skirt and help him. Tomorrow might be my turn to be that sick.
Cheers
Ricky
(Hi Mom)
Feb 16 2004
Calcutta
India
Day 63 - February 16 Like it or hate it, we just don't seem to be able to get out of it! After our 'run' of bad health on Saturday and no luck reaching the Bangladesh authorities yesterday, we decided to play it safe, recover and gather our strength and thoughts for the departure today.
And today arrived as dull and smoggy as ever but with a bit of persistence we got all the required stamps and signatures in all the required places and ahead of schedule. And then, with the light at the end of the tunnel almost blinding, everything went dark. The recovery day had meant our flight clearance in India had expired and, unlike the less bureaucratic where a simple phone call would take care of things, we had to start from scratch, and no amount of discussion would change it. Back to the internet cafe, the fax kiosk and the hotel.
Our stay in Kolkata continues and with it, our continued amazement that amid the traffic, pollution, red tape and people, this entire place doesn't just collapse in on itself and vanish... But what to do but try and create order of what we see around us. Which brings us to "Kolkata Rules by Ricky and Alan for Propulsion" - KRRAP for short, more commonly known as traffic rules in the outside world.
When in doubt – Hoot
When not in doubt – Hoot
When crossing a street, even a one way street or single side of a dual carriage way - do not
only look left, right, up, down, back and forth, but also have a good introspective look and ask
yourself what on the other side of the street could really be worth it.
When entering a traffic circle the wrong way - hoot.
If a load is too large for a vehicle, hanging it off the side, dragging it behind or balancing at a
very precarious angle will show other road users just what a good driver you are.
When driving the wrong way up a freeway - hoot.
Dangling living chickens from the handlebars of a bicycle not only provides a useful means of
transport but also lends a unique form of decoration.
In a taxi, your passengers will complain less about the outside world if you get their ears to
bleed by exposing them to excessive local cultural music at volumes exceeding that of the
space shuttle at launch.
When overtaking two busses in the face of an oncoming truck or four – hoot
Lines drawn on the road are sacrifices to a heathen god and should be ignored
Traffic lights have at least three pretty colours, the same number as brains cells of the average
taxi driver. Other than that, they have no use and should be ignored
Why would they make three lanes if you couldn't stop in any of them?
When entering traffic, look the opposite way and – hoot
The more people you get into a vehicle, the better person you are.
Pedestrians are spongy and bounce better than other road traffic.
The useable road surface is from three meters across the oncoming lane to a fraction short of
the road-side abattoirs and piles of rotting garbage.
To impress your passenger, demonstrate how many times you can spit out the window in a one
block drive - extra points for varying technique
In Addis Ababa we met some German motor cyclists who spent six months riding through India. During that time they came to one conclusion: the name stood for I’ll Never Do It Again....
Alan
Feb 16 2004
Calcutta
We have been delayed in Calcutta by petty permit issues. We think it is sorted out and hope to leave tomorrow. We will attempt to fly hard and far for the next three days to get to Bangkok where hopefully things will go smoother.
Time is never wasted in these situations. We have used the time to ensure things are in order for Thailand, Malaysia and Indonesia. Stomachs are strong again and our spirits are up.
Alan and I have agreed that it would have been easier to skateboard around the world as opposed to flying.
Cheers
Ricky
_______________________________________________________________________
Feb 17 2004
Chittagong
Bangladesh
Day 64 - Feb 17 Today was one of those days. You know, when you get to the end and you can just slap your forehead and, in the immortal words of Homer Simpson, utter 'Duh!' And not in a bad way either. I think that we have just been so conditioned by our stay in India that when things start going well it takes us a while to cotton on...
Of course the day started as expected. Yours truly still not 100% over the stomach bug thing so not in the chirpiest of moods and the unbelievable heap of bureaucracy left to overcome. We got to the airport and got stuck right in, flight plans, General Declarations, some new charges we had not come across before and knew would take an hour to query, security clearances and finally customs.
Two hour and about 5 miles of walking later we made it to the planes, pre-flighted and called the tower to get taxi clearance. They weren't sure about the visibility and us flying in formation and had to call Dhaka, Bangladesh to see if they were happy and, and, and...
After a further 30 minutes of sitting with the engines running (we weren't taking any chances...) we finally got the go ahead and rather than risk further confusion took it that they meant for a formation take-off and before anyone could question our intentions we were airborne and disappearing into the smog.
Once again the scenery was a crowded semi-rural one, half blurred through the brown smog and of very little interest. Just knowing we were back in the air and heading for the next destination was all we wanted. The mouth of the Ganges came and went, a swampy delta with every inch of useable land under agriculture and, where the river ran deep and wide enough, ferries carry the hoards of people wherever it is they could possibly want to go down there.
The delta extends almost half the way across the Bay of Bengal as our route would take us to Chittagong which was comforting in some ways but still left a good 4 miles of open water to cross.
Flying across water generally is stressful enough but this piece had something we'd not experienced before. The smog and haze extends right over the water, which is also a muddy brown, resulting in a sort of 'brown-out' - a total lack of horizon and despite VFR(Visual Flight Rules) conditions, IFR (Instrument Flight Rules) flying. Its hard to describe but the feeling is almost as if the bottom of the flying goggles have been dunked in coffee. The only solution is to fly with one eye on the GPS and the other on the aircraft a few hundred yards away. The compass comes in handy too but with the movement of the aircraft is more difficult than the trusty Gamin 196 GPS.
With Chittagong on the radio we could hear that things there were busy and with 25 miles to go we were requested to descend to 3000 ft for passing traffic. Within 5 minutes two passenger jets passed 4000 ft overhead, quite spectacular when all we'd seen for an hour was the brown below. At Chittagong we got clearance to join the circuit and had to fly a slow approach as one of the Mig 21's from the airforce had just landed and they had to retrieve the break parachute. As we turned for finals another jet came in for a low fly-past - maybe not for us, but a nice welcome.
On the ground we braced for the red tape and officialdom we'd come to expect and were probably not in the most polite of moods (especially not feeling 100% and all) This is where things took a turn for the surprising. Unlike India and Pakistan where the officials thrive on complications and making work for themselves, here everyone simply wanted to make our stay pleasant and as easy as possible.
Our plan was to stay with the aircraft and save the customs and immigration problems. We even make special effort not to get visas so we would have no choice. The immigration guys simply stamped our passports with a 72 hour crew pass and directed us to customs, who took one look at us, stamped the General Declaration's and suggested a good hotel, right next to the South African u19 cricket team who are here for the mini World Cup!
Even the fuel wasn't a problem. The AVGAS price, as seems the rule here, was way out of line so the guy in charge organised to fetch us MOGAS and after sorting everything out, even gave us a lift into town and dropped us right outside the hotel. I think it took Ricky and I a couple of hours to figure that this was for real and just to make sure we went off and found the SA team managers and had a good chat.
Alan
Feb 19 2004
Yangon
Myanmar (Burma)
Day 66 - Feb 19 The 5:30 wake-up call felt about 3 hours early and the queasy feeling in the stomach from yesterday had been replaced by a far more familiar one - those tiny butterflies that sit there, minding their own business, just to remind you that what lies ahead is a day that, one way or another, will be remembered.
Our stay in Bangladesh had been surprisingly pleasant but the leg out was a 400 nautical mile, 8 hour marathon that with even a slight headwind or unfavorable conditions would be beyond our range and require the use of alternate airfields and probably heaps of Myanmar paperwork.
But first our exit from Chittagong. And following on our arrival, things went like clockwork. Everyone was beyond helpful and before we knew it we were lining up and ready to go. 8 hours of flying, a 9am take-off and 5:30pm sunset, doesn't leave much for options but so far the weather had played along and the report looked good so what did we have to loose?
Right on take-off I got a big surprise as Ricky headed 90 degrees off track in what looked like an aborted take-off. What now? Nothing, just a good photo opportunity and misread GPS...
Two minutes later we're back on track and staring at a ground speed that doesn't look good. Our first 25 miles was under controlled airspace and we were limited to 3 500 ft, with the wind coming straight down our noses. The occasional smoke stack only served to confirm our GPS reading and if things didn't improve we would barely make it 2/3 of the distance before sunset. Our only hope would be high level tailwinds once we left the CTR.
Below us the Bangladesh scenery passed very slowly, giving us a great but unwanted opportunity to see every hamlet, every paddy field and every river in great detail. By 25 miles we were itching for speed and started a climb in a desperate search for anything that would get us to Yangon.
Upwards means more fuel which means less range, but a good tailwind means better ground speed and better range; a delicate balance and the technical side of our flying that can make or break a flight. At 7 500 ft we hardly had anything better, except that Chittagong Radar could keep a good watch on us and make sure we kept on track, so no searching left or right for better speed. Below the ground was changing; over the Myanmar border the ground started to rise and the agriculture we'd grown accustomed to started to give way to ever denser indigenous forest - the kind of stuff that still protects the Burmese Teak that this part of the world is famous for and doesn't leave much room for landing a microlight should things in the engine department start to go wrong.
Three hours from take-off and still nothing good in the ground-speed department. Then something at ground level - a brush fire with smoke pointing towards Yangon, certainly worth investigating. We start the descent and sure enough, the GPS speed starts to increase and as we descend the fuel computer tells us we have a shot at making Yangon, and maybe even before sunset. But descending means we limit the options should an engine fail. No one said this would be easy!
Our best option is right at tree-top level, which happens to be through the mountains and for the better part of the next three hours we bump and bounce above the treetops, in and out of valleys with some spectacular views of the virgin forest. The hills reach up to 4 500 ft and we're left struggling with turbulence and choices of which way to fly round the peaks. What this does do is break the monotony of flying high and it really helps to pass the time.
Before we know it, the sky started to darken, not from the sun setting, but rather from fires, used to clear the forest near its edge, which also signals the end of the mountains and a chance to relax our grips and re-assess the fuel, speed and chance of making Yangon before sunset / fuel-starvation.
Over the mountains the wind is slightly from the front lower down but at 5 000 ft is calm and according to the GPS, if it stays that way, we'll just make it before dark and before the engines fall silent.
An easy way to asses our stress levels is to check on the amount and manner in which we chat on the radio. I can't remember talking to Ricky in over an hour so I call him up and his feelings on our situation are much the same as mine - we go for it!
The ground below has changed significantly - rivers wind all over the place, villages perch on their banks and all manner of boats travel the channels, leaving golden wakes in the afternoon sun. Each village also has at least one temple, their white domes and golden stupas standing out against the green of the surrounds.
With an hour to go we call Yangon on the radio and they direct us in with very little other traffic around. Things are looking good but with 7 hours of flying behind us we are both tired and I can hear by Ricky's tone that he also wants the flight to be over.
The conciliation of flying right through the day, in smokey haze, is that it produces the most magnificent sunset. To our right a river snakes off to some unknown destination but in the red glow of the low sun it lights up and seems to almost hover above the ground. Every flooded paddy does the same and by the time we turn on finals the air is so still that landing almost takes care of itself.
Its been a long day, 8 hours 20 minutes non-stop flying, over 400 miles, and the last thing we really want is bureaucracy. From stories we'd read and web-sites visited, Myanmar (or Burma as it used to be called) is famous for this and we taxi in, just waiting for it...
What we're met with is once again a surprise. Even though English is rare and security is very tight, the officials know what they are doing and everything falls into place. Maybe India has been a good lesson and we do have everything in perfect order but even so, the smiles are genuine and the help is unconditional. We even managed to book a hotel ahead of time and although a day late, they have our room and for the price we pay, it is beyond heaven.
Our only surprise is the fuel, which is reminiscent of Gwadar as to buy from the petrol station you need a government issued permit, which we do not have. The hotel driver knows a plentiful source and we're once again left filtering petrol of unknown origin and wondering what tomorrow's flight will be like...
Myanmar, like Bangladesh has come as a huge, pleasant surprise and once again, our only regret will be leaving too soon.
Alan
Feb 20 2004
Bangkok
Thailand
Day 67 - Feb 20 In theory, on our journey round the earth, traveling from west to east, every few days we gain an hour so by the end of the trip we should have gained a full day. Well during the past 12 hours I think we have aged more than 20 years.
It all started very well. Myanmar, despite charging some hefty landing fees, was an absolute pleasure. Everyone knew their job and we passed through the system without a single hitch. It seemed almost too easy.
Departure too, was smooth. Climbing out over the town we could see the neatly laid out streets, the disciplined traffic and in the distance the winding river that would lead us off to the Gulf of Martaban and our first test for the day, a 30 mile sea crossing. For the first time in weeks we also had clouds to contend with, the haze making for some interesting flying with white columns suddenly emerging from the gloom and leaving us dodging left or right. Finally we settled on staying low, below cloud base which also gave us a close-up of the landscape below.
Within two hours we were approaching the border and the villages and farmlands suddenly gave way to dramatic mountains and thick jungle that would have to be crossed to get to Thailand. Once again, not ideal flying terrain for a single engine aircraft but flying in formation lends an infinite degree of security and this was the only through.
Passing over the mountainous jungle provided some very different views - steep granite pillars, reaching out of the carpet of trees, mountain slopes in places covered in a kaleidoscope of colours and on the edges, sadly far too many slash and burn fires, probably a fair contributor to the bad visibility we'd been subjected to. But an hour or so into the jungle the fires had gone, probably a fair indication as to how inaccessible this place is and the visibility had improved to give us a very privileged view of one of the few remaining wildernesses in this part of the world.
Its quite easy to imagine places down there that haven't seen humans yet and hopefully won't for a long time to come. And then it happened. A sudden spine-chilling kick back to reality. The unmistakable feeling of an engine missing. Every muscle tense, waiting, feeling for any sign that things aren't right. What seemed like an eternity went by, all the while searching below for anything that might make a forced landing survivable and thinking back to that fuel we bought last night, siphoned out of cans in one of the many black-market filling stations, the only way to get fuel in Myanmar if you don't have a government fuel card...
Then it came again, only this time more intense and for much longer, a rough shaking of the plane and a drop of nearly 1000 rpm from the engine. Damn! And at about the worst place in the world. I call Ricky to let him know and get another pair of eyes looking for anything open or flat and start checking - engine stats look good: its not a mechanical problem, check the mags: both working fine, not electrical. Then another violent shake - it must be the fuel. I switch on the booster pump, watch the fuel flow double and sit back and wait... The EGT's (Exhaust Gas Temperatures)drop (showing the engine has started to run rich from the pump) and things seem to smooth out. Its a long way to go still over the jungle and we only have one way to go. Our alternate airport is about 50 miles short of Bangkok but still two hours away. All we can do is keep an eye on things and hope for the best.
The minutes feel like hours as we creep over the jungle, which seems to have lost some of its appeal for some reason... Eventually, after a few lifetimes of flying we see the first village emerge from the haze and below us the little pieces of the terrain start to look like possible landing strips again and we can both start to relax just a bit. I look at the fuel situation and with the booster running I won't make Bangkok so I flick the switch to off and wait to see what happens... nothing, smooth running so I leave it off.
Below us we can now see signs that we're into civilization again, with big, dual carriage-ways and the typical Thai architecture, the steep double pitch roofs and dotted around the towns temples of all sizes.
Then it comes again, this time nearly killing the engine, a violent shaking, I jump and switch the booster pump on. I try turning it off again the engine coughs almost instantly. No choice but to leave it on and make a plan. Our only option is to contact Bangkok and let them know we'll be a bit late as we divert to Kamphaeng Saen, our alternate airfield.
We change frequencies to call KS and they have already been informed by Bangkok that we have a problem and are coming in for a precautionary landing. Their only question is 'Are we civil or military?' - an odd question, considering that the database shows them as a public airport.
Don't always believe the database I guess, because as we approach the airfield it becomes apparent that the aircraft crowding the apron aren't civil! I've had to fly at higher RPM to keep engine happy and are relieved when finally the airfield is in gliding distance and I'm assured that I won't be meeting some farmer and trying to explain why I fell from the sky.
On finals I can see much activity on the apron, with jeeps and pick-ups racing along to the far side of the large open apron. I taxi off and am directed to follow them and go to where the jeeps are. For just a second I get an uneasy feeling, landing at a military airfield, even with problems, can lead to lots of paperwork and many questions.
Once again, assumptions are a bad thing. We are met by huge smiles, cold Cokes and every bit of assistance we could ever want. The airfield is a military training base and when the instructor hears we are from South Africa, he is delighted as they use the same Pilatus trainers we do. His English is excellent and after a quick check we find the fuel filers completely blocked with a fine dust that passed right through the filter funnels we used last night. Without asking he volunteers to get us fresh fuel while we replace filters and even arranges for the ATC to submit a new flight plan so that we can get going as smoothly as possible.
Unbelievable! We couldn't have chosen a better place to land and are almost sad that we still have to make Bangkok. They do offer us a place for the night but with time on our side and wanting to avoid too many questions from customs and immigration, we head off and are soon in a hold pattern at Bangkok International, the little Rotax engines are very happy with their clean fuel and two pilots sharing their sentiments.
We land safely at the busiest airport we ever want to land at and taxi off between the 747's and Airbuses and are soon lead off behind the 'Follow Me' van to a quiet corner where we secure the planes and realise we're still a bit shaky from the days ordeal.
The Bangkok airport authority, however, are just the cure. Nothing like we have ever seen before. They assign an assistant to us and he patiently walks us through the entire process, an absolute pleasure. Within half an hour we have a hotel reservation and even the taxi driver is friendly and jovial as he drives us through traffic that would be equally at home in Johannesburg or Cape Town, and off to our hotel. He even charges us less than quoted!
So far Bangkok has surpassed our expectations and for the next two days we're going to behave like tourists and recover fully from our little flight over the jungle!
Alan
Feb 22 2004
A Techno Update
This is an update for those who maybe interested in the technicalities of what we are up to. Firstly the microlights. The engines seem to be running well and this far have been reliable and consistent in both their performance and consumption. We have also learnt the parameters within which they operate the best. Notice that I am referring to the engines as they and them. This is because we regard them as our best friends. Won't you if you life also depended on them?
The fuel consumption up to about 2000ft is at about 11.5 to 12.5litres per hour. Remember we are very heavily loaded. Normally we take off with 140 litres of fuel and all the other equipment. The higher the temperature the more fuel it consumes. From 3000 to 5000 it uses 13.5 litres per hour and increases dramatically above 7000ft to above 15.5 litres per hour and more. At 10 000ft plus it uses over 17.5 litres per hour. Also depending on temperature.
You might be thinking that it is below 0 degrees above that. Wrong! In Nepal, the coldest we flew to was -5 degrees Celsius at 11000 ft and that is in the middle of their winter. However in Ethiopia we were flying at 11000 to 12 000 ft at above 25 degrees C. This sounds high doesn't it?
After take off at Addis Ababa airport (7500 ft) in 35 degrees C we were holding our breath hoping to find thermals to get higher because we were maintaining 100ft above the farm lands at full throttle as the direction we had to fly was sloping uphill. This state of panic lasted over an hour and at 12000 ft we got over the crest of the land and down to Dire Dawa. The engines were using 25 litres per hour.
We have oversized radiators for the water and oil cooling with in-flight adjustable flaps to open or close them off to maintain the temperature correct. The water temperature we maintain at about 80 degrees and the oil at about 95 to 100 degrees C. Occasionally we let the oil temp increase over 100 C to remove the condensation out of the oil tank.
Exhaust Gas Temperatures (EGT) get to the upper 700 C on take off and normally operate at the upper 600 C to lower 700 C in normal flight. I have had one EGT probe give me trouble but have managed to get another probe. The reason for the EGT problem is because we have them facing outwards and each time we put the cover over the microlights they bend down quite a lot. Bending the EGT wires are a big No! No! As they are made of special metals which do not take to bending unlike your average wire.
We seem to be consuming about 1 litre of oil per 50 hours flying and have change the oil and filters twice so far. We have replaced the spark plugs once at +- 150 hours. Rotax was very helpful and have supplied us with spark plugs and oil filters for the entire trip.
One really convenient characteristic about the engines is that they tolerate an amazing range of fuel Octane. We unknowingly used octane's as low as 80octane (Petrol smuggled into Pakistan from Iran) and right up to 100 Avgas. The performance is not dramatically different. Even when the fuel is dirty the engine just gives a little reduction in rpm for a second or two.
One thing that effects the fuel consumption is keeping the airfilters clean. In these heavily polluted areas we need to clean filters every 10 hours. In India a good days visibility is about 3km and it is all pure pollution.
The Warp drive propellers are starting to show wear which is understandable in this pollution. They have metal leading edges for the first half from the tips inwards and the balance towards the center of the propeller has already been worn into a bow shape. We might need to replace these props if it continues.
The Icom 200 radios seem to work well in the air but not once we are on the ground. We seem to communicate with the control towers from 80 to 100 nautical miles distance. The small handheld Icom radios have excellent all round characteristics but a short range.
The stratomaster instrument has been an absolute winner. It has all the engine temperatures, revs, airspeeds and times etc but the real winner has been the fuel flow meter which we use to manage the fuel consumption for the long distance flights. The instrument calculates how much time we have left to fly and we compare this with the GPS calculation of estimated time of arrival at the destination.
The GPS's we are using for navigation is the Garmin 196. It has a huge amount of options which is very useful as we can prepare ourselves to answer the barrage of questions that these air traffic controllers ask. The one question that makes me feel uneasy is when they ask "How many souls on board?"
The data base and maps shows all the registered airports, controlled and restricted areas in each country. This is an important instrument for navigation and information of each area.
We seem to have a cruising airspeed of 47 to 48 knots and maintain this most of the time. The lighter we are loaded the faster it flies. The sail has stretched slightly but it is still on the slackest setting and we intend on tensioning it up after +-300 hours. The wings are 15 square metres and perform well with the load. Loaded we seem to climb at 300 to 500 ft per minute depending on temperature and altitude. The wing has been reinforced for the loading and its handling is still light. I personally prefer a heavy handling wing on these long flights.
Prior to departure we fitted disk brakes to the front wheel which has worked very well.
Due to the specific requirements for these microlights, Alan built the engine mountings and installation and this far it has proved to have been the best potion.
Another winner has been the carburetor heaters manufactured by Aviation Engines and Accessories in South Africa. The system is a water jacket on the outside of the carburetors that allows warm water from the radiators to flow over the carburetors. We have tried it on and off and it has no effect on performance at all. We now leave it on all the time.
One thing that would be a winner would be a manual adjusting mixture control for the carburetors. this is definitely needed for these long trips.
The side bags are a little tired of us over loading them and the zips have need some stitching. When we take off loaded the trikes look like over loaded donkeys. The entire trikes are looking a bit dirty especially after flying through these heavy pollution areas.
Well that is it from the techno side.
Ciao
Ricky
Feb 23 2004
Phuket
Thailand
Day 70 - February 23 What can be said about Bangkok that hasn't been said a thousand times already and probably featured in everything from news reports to musicals. The city is a strange mix of first world pace in an old world setting. Intricately decorated temples lie in the shadows of glass and concrete skyscrapers and neatly dressed businessmen wait for the train next to Buddhists in their orange robes. Our time has been spent taking in a few of the tourists sights, preparing the planes for the next leg and otherwise trying hard not to think too much about jittery engines over big jungles!
Our little incident seems to have drawn quite a lot of attention from the press back home (strange the way drama sells newspapers...) and we have spent a fair amount of time answering questions and trying to set up interviews. Funny that the positive achievements like the first microlights to fly through Yemen or the first private aircraft to be allowed to fly freely though Nepal didn't raise so much as an email from the papers.... Oh well, maybe someone will call them and ask why!
Departing from Bangkok was almost as traumatic as getting in. We had to delay for a few minutes due to some morning mist but got the all clear soon enough and lined up on what must be the biggest runway we'll ever see. The airport has parallel runway operation so right next to us a massive 747 tore off through the air and disappeared on its way to some far away place. With hectic traffic in and out-bound, we were routed way off course, and got a unique chance to see Bangkok from the air, the river snaking its way between the buildings and right down its length, every shape and size of boat making it look almost as busy as the fly-over. On the outskirts of town the scenery changed gradually and by the time we got to the coast there was a mix of conventional agriculture and fish farming; the massive fish ponds with their air mixers making a change from what we're used to looking down on.
50 miles out we settled into some nice smooth air and our only distraction was a slight detour to avoid overflying the king's palace at Hua Hin. The coastal towns south of Bangkok start to take on the signs of some serious holiday resorts - huge towering hotels with private golf courses and beautiful white beaches.
We planned to break the 8 hour flight from Bangkok to Phuket at Prachuap, a military base about half way down the coast. The amazing thing in Thailand is that the airforce are quite happy to allow civil flights to land (with prior notice) and the stop at Prachuap came as a welcome break. The landing strip is right across a narrow peninsula and has a road running across one end. Before landing, the guards stop the traffic and we got to land on what looks almost like an aircraft carrier.
The bays that surround the airfield are pristine pieces of coast with pure white beaches, palm trees and traditional thatched houses and small fishing villages right on the beach. Its obvious that we are approaching the location where the film The Beach was shot.
Out of Prachuap we head further down the coast for another two hours and then cut across the country to pick up the west coast and head for Phuket. The interior is once again a mixture of steep mountains and thick forest and its hard not to get a bit paranoid and keep a close listen to the engine. Of course moving from the coast also brings some turbulence and every bump feels like another shudder from the engine. Nothing to do but trust we've solved the problem and concentrate on the flying.
Over the mountains, the landscape breaks into a massive inland lake, a maze of estuaries and rivers winding into the ravines and islands, too many to count, dot the dark water. On some of the larger islands, small fishing villages grow out into the water and small boats can be seen making their way down the channels.
Phuket is under broken cloud so we have to descend and weave between the last of the peaks, a fascinating trip over manicured rubber plantations with steep cliffs in places reaching up beyond the cloud base. The channel separating Phuket from the mainland is only a few hundred meters wide and as we cross it the full magnificence of the area comes into view. A yacht basin on the north east tip, full of some serious ships gives the first hint of what we can expect and on every bay a holiday resort right out of the movies, sits.
We land without a hitch and are directed to park at the private charter apron, between Gulfstreams, Learjets and someone's private Boeing 737-800 - that's the same plane our president flies around in! We are sure they will all appreciate our arrival and feel honoured... The airport itself is an absolute pleasure. We get collected by the 'follow me' truck and are taken through proceedings with the smooth effortlessness that obviously gets extended to our more esteemed apron neighbours. The whole feel of the place just lets you know that you're welcome here and the only option is to relax.
We find some fellow budget tourists to share a taxi and the 35km trip to Patong Beach where our hotel is, gives us a chance to see the island from ground level as the night life comes out. All we have to do now is take full advantage of our three days here and relax, unwind and blend in; oh, and probably take a few calls from the press.
Alan
Feb 23 2004
Phuket
Hi From Ricky.
All systems are up and running well. ( Including Tum tums)
A long 7.5 hour flight today from Bangkok to Phuket which included a planned stop at another military airfield where we were warmly received with a lot of enthusiasm and a cup of coffee. Flying through Thailand is really beautiful and the terrain continuously changes from metropolis to jungles. We are now in Phuket with the microlights parked amongst the most amazing private jets. The island has lots of tourists and a very festive atmosphere.
We plan to be here for two days and maybe discover some other activities like snorkeling and " Playing ball on the beaches" with whoever is willing to play and maybe indulge in a Thai massage. Alan desperately needs one.
Cheers
Ricky
Feb 26 2004
Langkawi
Malaysia
Day 73 - February 26 Getting out of Phuket was more difficult than we imagined. Not because of bureaucracy or technical problems but simply because, well, its Phuket! Having done our best low-budget tourist impression for a few days, we were almost getting used to beaches plastered with middle-aged topless bathers who should know better, blue seas and over-priced beers, not to mention the bars where love is just a swipe of the credit card away and you can see things that will change your views of table-tennis for life.
Yesterday we took a break from the bustle of the tourist traps, grabbed our diving masks and simply swam out to what looked like a nice reef to the side of one of the swimming beaches. Forget the high priced dive charters and cramped sleeper boats - just beyond the suntan oil-slick and maze of deck chairs, lies the most amazing diving. The reef lay down to about 10 meters so snorkeling wasn't a problem and, because no one would stoop to diving there, the whole place is untouched. Huge coral peaks surrounded by rainbows of tropical fish lie in every direction and in the crevices and holes, moray eels and lobsters hide, making a dash for it when disturbed. The swim takes us about three hours but the views are so amazing and the water so warm that its only realisation that our last meal was breakfast and the sun is already heading low that gets us out the water. Even right behind the swimmers, we're still fascinated by a school of needle fish that are almost tame enough to touch.
But all this has to be consigned to memory as we finish the pre-flight in the mid-morning 35 degree heat and head out over the 35 mile channel to the main land. And yes, for the entire stretch we both listen very carefully to those little motors out back. The channel itself is something to behold. Just off Phuket Island lies Phi Phi Island and Maya Bay, the setting for 'The Beach'. From the air the magic below is almost too tempting to pass by. Literally hundreds of islands dot the sea, some barely breaking the surface while other stand like giant, unfinished pillars out of the blue. A mixture of fishing and tourist boats leave long streaks where their wakes break the still water. Massive granite mounds reveal secret coves as we fly over them and every so often there is a beach on some deserted island that with a bit of careful flying might just be a good place to land... Maybe one day when we have more time.
The three hour flight down the coast goes by in no time - probably one of our smoothest flights to date and a welcome change from rattling engines and unscheduled stops. Langkawi, our destination lies about 15 miles off shore and comes up out of the haze just as the mainland vanishes behind. The island stretched north-south about 25 miles long and is divided by a mountain range that reaches up about 3000ft, making the approach to the airport very interesting. In fact bigger aircraft can only take off and land in one direction, because apparently they don't climb well through granite.
We drop in over the ridge and have to fight to get the little planes down onto the runway. Fortunately its 3000m long and we only need the first 50 meters. Waiting for us on the apron is the owner of the local flying club and the most time-consuming procedure is filling in the passport number on the arrival form.
Langkawi is a tax free zone and does everything to encourage people to visit - including not charging anything to little aeroplanes with good intentions - now there is a change we can get used to. Not only that but there is no tax on beer either and for the first time since leaving home we find a place with cheaper beer than home - a long search but worth it.
Our motel lies on the western shore, right on the beach and a short walk down the beach is all that's needed to pass a dozen restaurant and bars, their tables scattered where high tide was a few hours ago and a very laid-back, uncrowded feel. Pity we 'wasted' all that time in Phuket...
Alan
Feb 28 2004
Hi From Ricky
All is well and as you may have noticed we have done a bit of long distance flying. We will update details of what has been happening over the last week or so.
Phuket was a great stop to recharge our batteries and appreciate some first world facilities. Flying out of Phuket, East towards the main land was beautiful. There are lots of islands jutting out of the light blue sea. It is very impressive. Some of them have great beaches on one side and some are mere towers of rock with tufts of greenery on top. Some of the islands are shaped like mushrooms with huge horizontal over hanging tops. The sea has eroded the sides away leaving a wide top with a narrow pillar of rock supporting it. The islands are a hive of activity with yachts and holiday makers.
The whole area is so beautiful that we hardly noticed the three and a half hours flight to the island of Langkawi in Malaysia where we were met by Zainol of the Malaysian Experimental Aviation Association. (EAA) He had us through immigration and customs in a record time of five minutes. What a pleasure. He then sorted us out in a resort on the beach where we spent the evening enjoying the beach restaurant, pubs and meeting some of the (yummy) holiday makers.
The next morning it was off to Kuala Lumpur where we landed at Subang and met Captain Siva and his wife Rani.
It is important to give a bit of back ground to on Capt. Siva’s input. A year ago I traveled to Malaysia and Australia to make arrangements for this expedition (Just to spoil any notion you may have had that this expedition was an impulsive bit of lunacy) and met Rick Miza and Bill Cook in Malaysia. They in turn introduced me to Capt Siva who is the chairman of the EAA in Malaysia. Capt. Siva has had input into our route through the area and hence Lankawi island went so smoothly. Simply put Capt. Siva is an aviator of note. If he is not rushing around the world flying 747’s he gets back and flies a small ultralight, organizes the EAA and is the chief licensing instructor for general aviation in Malaysia. As every women is aware behind a successful man is a woman and she is his wife Rani who had been organizing things behind the scenes for our arrival. The trikes were quickly lost into the corner of a huge airline hanger and we were whisked off to………. I will continue later.
Cheers
Ricky
After losing the microlights in the corner of the airline hanger we headed off with Siva and Rani to a nearby golf course. No not to play golf. To meet the manager and ask if we could land on the golf course. Rani had been hard at work arranging with the Hyatt Sujana Hotel to accommodate us while in KL and in return we would land next door and taxi to the hotel where there would be a press conference. The golf manager did not agree to the idea besides which the greens were quite undulating so it was decided to derig Alan's trike and transport it to the hotel where it would be on display in the entrance foyer. Derigging the trike, transporting it and rerigging it in the foyer was not as hard a job as trying to convince the security at the airport to allow us to enter to get to our own aircraft. "You must understand these are the rules" we had to hear being recited yet again for the millionth time on the expedition. A wiseman once said "Rules are for fools and used by the wise for guidance" hopefully one day these people will understand this and instead of applying rules word for word they will use their initiative when applying the rules.
The trike looked impressive in the foyer and it was FANTASTIC to stay at the Hyatt. Such a setting gives one a chance to recharge ones energy and motivation. Rani arranged an impressive press conference for the Monday and I flew with Siva in the back, over the hotel as the introduction to the event. It all worked out very impressively as the runway is only 2km away which made it possible for us to get back on time. There were interviews with newspapers and TV which made us feel like celebrates. No we are not getting big headed. Well not yet. The deputy high commissioner of the South African Embassy Philip Riley was there to congratulate us which made us feel great to know that we are being supported by the SA Foreign Affairs.
The following two days were spent organizing the Indonesian visa, running around Kuala Lumpur city and derigging the trike and assembling it again at the hanger. All worked out well.
Siva and Rani then arranged that Siva would fly on the back of my trike and Rani would drive 400km with our luggage to Nusa Jaya to pick him up. How many wives who have been married for 26 years would do that? I my books that is admirable. Well done Rani. Siva did the radio work and navigation on the way out of Kl which was good for us to experience how it is done professionally. We flew over Kuala Lumpur and took photo's with the Petronas twin towers in the back ground and then headed South to Nusa Jaya to meet Rick Miza.
The flight went well and it was a pleasure to have a passenger to chat to for a change. At Nusa Jaya we were very warmly received by the members of the flying club. They have a great flying school going. We later had supper with everybody and were surprised with accommodation once again at the Hyatt laid on by the flying club. I warned them that we are like stray cats. If you feed and look after us too well we will come back.
The next morning we flew to the main airport at Johor Barhu to clear out of customs/immigration etc and off to Palembang in Indonesia an almost 7 hour non-stop flight.. By the time we landed the seat felt like a rough concrete slab. Palembang was a nice airport with everybody being helpful and friendly until we got to the briefing office and we were asked for the original of our flight clearance. Hello! How are we going to get that in the middle of Indonesia? The damn thing was probably running through some paper lunatics fax machine or something. We phoned around to try and get a copy sent to us and everything became the famous "Sit! Please wait" stories. Just then Siva sms'ed and I replied telling him what the problem was. Several minutes later the office phone rang and magically all was sorted out. ?????????? How did that happen? Rani had got onto the head of the Dept of Civil Aviation in Indonesia Chepy Nasution and told him about the expedition and presto all sorted out. Since then Chepy has made sure that all has run smoothly for us in Indonesia.
Cheers
Ricky
March 2 2004
Kuala Lumpur
Malaysia
Day 78 - March 2 If you've been following our page on a daily basis and have noticed that nothing has appeared for a few day and have maybe thought we were lost in the jungle, stranded in some technologically isolated area or hiding for fear of a 29th of February proposal, fear not (well not now that the 29th has past!), we have just been battling to come to terms with the amazing welcome we have received in Kuala Lumpur.
We've all seen the adverts for Malaysian Airlines with the stunning ladies, amazing landscapes and bright, first-world cities, well, they don't come close. The place and the people just work together to make it unforgettable.
The flight from Langkawi southwards started with a 20 minute sea crossing - and once again the early morning hazy sunrise made the flight almost eerie as islands emerged from the edge of the visibility, passed below and then vanished from sight as if erased by some unseen hand. Soon we were back over the land and passing initially over fairly rural towns and farms that soon grew bigger until, from below the 1500 ft cloud base, the metropolis that is Kuala Lumpur emerged.
Visibility didn't allow us to see the famous Petronas twin towers but what lay out into the distance was clearly modern, developed and inviting. Landing at Subang, about 15 miles from the new KL International airport, made life a bit easier and waiting in the hangar was Captain Siva and his wife Rani, who'd made contact with us about a year ago and were as excited about our arrival here as we were.
Its hard to describe our four days in KL. The pace of things matched the amount of work we had to do, organising Indonesia visas, press conferences, shopping, oh, and getting one of the trikes into the lobby of the Hyatt Regency Saujana, who very generously hosted our stay in KL in exchange for some publicity. And I think Ricky's fly-past during the press conference at 50ft, did the trick. Never did get my share of the coconuts I'm sure he picked while on one or two of the passes...
Our stay, although at a hectic pace, also allowed us to make some fantastic friends, and the Malaysian EAA just seemed to pull one trick after another out of their sleeves. The stay obviously did Ricky some good too because the way he handles the press is certainly improving...
Rani and Siva saw to it that nothing was overlooked and we only hope we can return the experience sometime down the line. The opportunities emerging for general aviation in Malaysia are no small thanks to the two of them and not since home have we seen topography, enthusiasm and infrastructure waiting for the recreational pilot. With big plans on their calendar for a tour of Malaysia, pilots from around the world will soon be able to share in what we have experienced down here - and we highly recommend jumping at the chance!
One problem with our stay here is that, after long talks to Siva, our route back up is now in total confusion. Borneo, a place that instills fear in most, is apparently a flying paradise and could make our route to China a lot easier, except that it would mean flying direct from Taiwan to China, something that just isn't allowed. Of course were going to try to be the first to do this but, having met and had a good chat to Philip Riley from the SA High Commission in KL, this might just be asking a bit much.
Our departure will be tough but Siva has arranged to fly down to Johor Bahru with us and things down there look like a continuation of what we've been spoilt with in KL so, for the next day or two at least, life for the Freedom Flight boys isn't too bad.
Alan
March 3 2004
Johor Bahru
Malaysia
Day 79 - March 3 The hardest thing about flying in Malaysia is getting through airport security but once you get the hang of it and have someone with the rank of Captain walking you through it, things become a bit easier. The departure from KL for Johor Bahru would have been just like any other departure except that, instead of routing straight off, and just the two of us flying, we had Captain Siva navigating for Ricky (probably not a bad thing) and we got to fly out directly over the city center. Actually to be more accurate we got to circle around KL's famous Petronas Twin Towers. What a sight.
Not sure how high they are but we were at over 1200ft and only just looking over them. After a bit of playing, we picked up our course and headed almost due south. All down the track to Johor, the landscape fluctuates between palm plantations, small towns and big industrial centers. The infrastructure, even from a mile high is clearly first world and better than anything we've seen to date. Massive toll roads in both directions feed a constant flow of traffic north and south and along the way we pass some very active training airfields.
Before we know it, we're descending under Johor's control zone and behind a little hill Nusa Jaya, the local EAA's field comes into sight with Rick (not the one trying to scare Capt. Siva) standing proudly in front of his hangar full of Quicksilver 3-axis microlights and other flying machines.
The trikes get a hangar for the night and we get to meet the local flying guys that eventually leads to dinner and sadly an early night as we're all rather tired from the days flying and the last couple of late nights. To our surprise and delight, Rick has organised rooms for us all at the Hyatt (this could be habit forming) but we barely have the energy to check the view out over the causeway to Singapore. Maybe on the way back we'll have more time and a chance to explore the southern tip of Asia in more detail.
Alan
March 4 2004
Palembang
Indonesia
Day 80 - March 4 After sleeping like the dead, the early morning was greeted with that uneasy feeling in the stomach that lets you know there's a big day ahead. From Johor Bahru our journey heads further south, back across the equator and into Indonesia. We'll pass Tangjung Pia, the southern most point of continental Asia, cross 100 miles of open ocean and then a further 200 miles of swampy jungle, all of which will give us plenty of time to listen to the Rotax and enjoy the view.
But first to get to Johor Bahru international airport to clear customs and then the flight proper. Siva, Rick and some others have arranged to flying out with us in their planes and after double checking everything we climb out over the field and for a few minutes forget about what lies ahead and just play around, getting some great pics and saying a fitting farewell to some fantastic new friends.
Johor Bahru is a pleasure, even with the Deputy President passing through we are hardly delayed and the friendly efficient way we are handled continues the trend that has been set. We head back out over microlight airfield at Nusa Jaya where all the pilots have climbed the small hill and wave us past with much enthusiasm - the kind of reaction that really does wonders for the spirit and gives deeper meaning to days like this.
We head out west initially, avoiding Singapore airspace and getting a brilliant bird's eye view of the southern tip while out over the Straits of Singapore ships of every shape and size plough back and forth. From tiny fishing boats with long lines of buoys marking their nets to high speed ferries leaving long white streaks in their wakes the whole sea just seems alive.
We pass Singapore control and turn right, tracking due south once again and with visibility at about 10 km soon have very little but blue above and below and a hazy grey off to the sides. There really is nothing to do but watch the GPS and listen to the motor. Thankfully the motor behaves as well as the GPS but with more than two hours to fly before landfall, time really drags.
Eventually out of the grey shapes start to emerge and start to take the form of coastline. Even over the coast though, things don't look too great below - Dense forest only gives way in places to reveal a watery swamp below and its hard to say if it would be better to do a forced landing down there or out at sea.
Thankfully that question doesn't need answering and for the next four hours we fly over a green ocean with only the very occasional dirt track and very rural looking villages. The northern part of Indonesia is a huge contrast to Malaysia, just a few hundred kilometers over the horizon. One thing that does help is the sudden improvement in visibility. For the first time since Oman we can see almost all the way to the horizon and both above and below the clouds the air once again looks clean. Not a moment too soon Palembang appears below the scattered cloud and we route straight in, slightly down-wind but happy to be on firm ground. No matter how great the flying is, four hours is about the comfort limit and at times we have to resort to strange tactics to relieve the posterior.
We taxi in and are met by two prospective 'agents' but fend them off and take our time securing the trikes. They seem totally unoffended and leave us to our work. Immigration, despite taking a while, also runs smoothly and customs hardly gives us a second look. We are soon at the briefing office, an infamous place where rumour has it we'll be paying US$165 per aircraft per stop and possibly have to add bribes on top to get things moving.
The people are friendly enough but when we can't produce an original (of faxed copy) of the flight clearance, things grind to a halt. Inbetween the discussions Rani called on the cell phone from Kuala Lumpur and we told her of our predicament and she assured us she would sort something out. Being aware of her ability to organize things we left it in her hands. While the wheels got into motion, we chatted nicely to one of the agents who'd been standing around and for a very reasonable fee arranged to get fuel and food.
In broken English he also informed us that the fire station had a watch room that we were welcome to sleep in. Not the Hyatt but very convenient for an early start in the morning. We headed into town and we amazed to find that the fuel here was even cheaper than across in Malaysia. At under 25 US cents per liter we certainly can't complain. And then the food... this part of Indonesia isn't westernised at all so we were left with the choice of going hungry or taking a chance on what our agent suggested - a strange mix of noodles, green stuff and what we hoped was bits of egg, all served in a plastic bag. When in Rome.... And of course, like the rest of the place is turning out, the food was excellent.
Having refueled, fed well and prepared the planes for tomorrow, we moved towards the briefing office with some trepidation... only to be met by a very warm smile and the assurance that our flight was all in order. And then the big shock - the landing, parking and other mysterious fees? Well, no charge! We're not celebrating until we actually take off tomorrow but it appears that Rani has friends in important places and informing them about our flight details certainly has helped out.
So while we dream of the Hyatt and wake up in the fire departments watch room floor, we can only hope they don't change their minds and that somewhere in Cirebon we can find more great noodles and people just as helpful.
Alan
March 5 2004
Cirebon
Indonesia
Day 81 - March 5 It wasn't the Hyatt but the floor of the fire station provided a great night's sleep and much needed shelter from a huge rain storm that continued through the night. Our choice not to sleep in the tents was clearly a wise one. The rain had really come down overnight and apart from the trikes being up to their axles in water, the surrounding fields were also gleaming in the morning light as we checked out the trikes and made sure they were none the worse for their much needed bath.
Having completed the formalities yesterday, our departure was a simple affair of securing the bags and taxiing out. Lift-off in the cool dense air was a breeze and in no time we were at 3 500 ft and sailing over the flooded lands below. The rivers were hard to distinguish from the surrounding land but clearly this is a way of life here as below we could see very little signs of roads and people simply moving about by boat.
Our destination for the day was Cirebon on West Java which meant a short sea crossing from Sumatra where Palembang lies. The coast was once again broken into hundreds of islands and the channel between West Java and Sumatra is only a few kilometers across so none of the anxiety experienced yesterday.
Right from the Java coast things change. Obviously this is the developed part of Indonesia and we were met at the coast by a large power station, billowing smoke and feeding a dozen or more power lines running into the distance. And in the distance lay Jakarta. A sprawling city that starts with a slow progression from rural to urban scenery and just seems to continue forever.
Our route was directly over the city and four major airports but the air traffic controllers do an excellent job and we're simply asked to climb to 8 000ft, turn on the transponders and every now and again given a change in course. Nothing could be simpler. Below us we are amazed at the size and apparent level of development. Apart from more airports than appear needed, the city must have the greatest number of golf courses in the southern hemisphere. At any one time just looking around reveals half a dozen or more in a ten mile radius, each one apparently bigger and better than the last. These guys must really love their golf.
Heading south we eventually leave the city and the landscape turns back to the rural one with small villages and a surprising number of airfields. To our west the land starts to rise and the mountain range that separates the east from the west runs off towards Cirebon. After five and a half hours of flying we see Cirebon come into sight and call up the tower, only to be told the airport is closed as the president is in town and will be leaving in two hours! With our alternate airfield now out of range and less than one hour reserve, this is a real problem and something no one has bothered to point out during the struggle to submit the flight plan yesterday.
We ask for suggestions but all the tower can do is tell us to route to Sukani Military Base which has been ordered to receive us. He can't give us co-ordinates and nowhere on our database can we find it. I recall passing a sorry looking grass runway about 20 miles out and we decide to give it a shot.
With this part of the land also clearly having had its share of rain, a grass runway wasn't ideal but with the alternate being an intimate meeting with the president's personal security, we didn't have many options.
On approach we could see a large group of uniformed men standing on one side and gesturing wildly, obviously our arrival had been announced. I did a few low passes to check the ground and judging by the muddy tracks, long grass and patches of loose water, it was going to be dirty. I lined up where the men were waving and brought the trike in as slowly and gently as possible. Sure enough... SPLASH! but thanks to the fat tyres and by now, very light load, all the trike did was splash around like a little duck and come to a skiddy stop about 20 meters past where the first of the airforce guys had dived out the way.
I did a quick check and pointed Ricky to the slightly less muddy section where he too did a splashy, skiddy landing before taxiing up to the airforce base gate. Sukani, it appears, is an airforce base only by name and we were left wondering if they might use float planes in the wet season. Behind us dark mud grooves were cut where we taxied at nearly full power to get through the grass at the edge of the runway.
Not quite sure what the reception would be like, we got out the trikes to be met by the happiest bunch of soldiers we've ever seen. After nearly yanking our arms off with handshakes all round, we were lead off to what appeared to be the social lounge and presented with an amazing array of eats and drinks. Somehow I don't think the president got it so good!
After an hour or so and having eaten our fill and got a call to say we could now land at Cirebon, we presented the base with a small token of our gratitude, a SA flag sticker which was eagerly received, and then headed back to the planes to make a plan to take off. We paced the runway and found what looked like the best option - 200 meters of semi-dry, slightly shorter grass. Ricky was first up and having splashed through the rough, lined up and gave it full power. His acceleration clearly wasn't what we're used to but after some interesting waddling along, eventually pulled its wheels out the swamp and leapt into the sky. My run was probably much the same and with just a bit of relief we gave the guys a low level fly-past and headed for an uneventful landing at Cirebon.
There the ground crew had obviously also been briefed about our diversion and went out of their way to see to it that we got fuel, a safe place to tied down the planes and anything else we needed. They even managed to arrange a $0.50 taxi ride to town where we found that hotels in Indonesia can be very reasonable. With luck and good weather tomorrow we'll make Bali but if things aren't perfect we'll spend it in Surabaya. Either way we should get a chance to get a close-up view of a volcano!
Alan
Mar 5 2004
Cirebon
Indonesia
With Palembang all sorted out we flew off to Cirebon. It was one of those many flights when you wonder if it is not better to turn back and wait for better weather. It had rained buckets the night before and everything on the trikes were wet. There was mainly high cloud but it did not look too good ahead. One thing that has become apparent on the trip is that if we had to wait for good weather before we flew, we would probably still be back in Africa somewhere.
We plugged away, dodged rain and eventually found a tail wind which took us past Jarkarta and on to Cirebon our destination (or so we thought). When we got overhead the runway the Air Traffic Controller told us that it was closed for VIP movement. We had submitted a flight plan before take off when they could have said something and I had been speaking to this ATC for the last half hour and he had said nothing until we were on top of the runway. Imagine after flying for more than seven hours in and out of cloud, rain, hardly having slept the night before, completely focused on getting to the destination and then some #%$&*@ ATC tells you, you cant land. All I can say is that Alan handled it well and guided one tantrum throwing Portgie to a nearby airfield. It was a military runway (rather more like a water logged rice paddy) We were well received by the military and they served us really tasty snacks and cool drinks so all was forgotten and the ATC phoned when it was OK for us to return to the runway and we told him to wait as we were having a great time.
We have found the people in these areas to have an amazing calm and unassertive nature. There have been times when I have thrown my toys out of my cot and cursed and abused etc and generally they stay calm and do not confront. After I have completely exhausted any argument and don’t have anything else to say I just give up and they win every time. Then I apologize and feel like an absolute twit at having been so unreasonable to such nice people. This is a rare little confession that I know my friends are going to feast themselves on. (Ricky admitting that he is not the most reasonable person he knows).
Oh! Yes. Cirebon. It is a nice little town which is noticeably not accustomed to foreigners and how we realize this is by the way children look at us and snigger. Well we hope that is the case because any other reason would be too embarrassing to know. Supper was another long shot at something which hopefully would not have an adverse effect on our stomachs and as it turned out it was fine.
Next destination Surabaya.
Ciao
Ricky
There is really impressive scenery in this part of the world.
March 6 2004
Bali
Indonesia
Day 82 - March 6 Our evening in Cirebon was far better than we had imagined. After our suggestion to sleep with the planes was frowned upon, we made our way into town and a very reasonable hotel. One thing about Indonesia is that the cost of almost everything is ridiculously affordable. We even got aircon and breakfast thrown in. The humidity here is far from a joke so we decided to head straight out and firstly change some money and then find a bite to eat.
The reaction of the poor girl behind the money changing counter made it obvious that our last shower had been a few time zones back and maybe heading straight out wasn't the best idea. Oh, well, live and learn. We kept our distance while she counted out the one and a half million Rupia that the couple of dollars got us. Feeling much richer we headed for town and tried as much as possible to stay downwind of people.
Town itself is a bustle of taxis, rikshas and thousands of people all trying to find their way somewhere. We joined in and found a very modern shopping complex where we first bought some supplies (including deodorant) and then headed to the top floor and a food court where a few thousand Rupia got us very well fed. Off to the hotel and a great nights sleep.
This morning we got to the airport by seven and had the trikes ready in next to no time. With no planes expected for some time, the airport staff stood by, watching our every move and showing great interest in every little detail. We filed the flight plan, said our thanks and good byes and once again got the all clear with no mention of landing fees. The CAA here have really helped us a lot and we hope to meet Rani’s friend, Cheppy, the man who made it all happen, on our way back through Jakarta.
The plan was to fly for Surabaya and check fuel and condition en route and make a call whether to stop for refuel or head straight for Bali. Our route lead straight down the east coast of West Java and from our viewpoint we had an amazing view of the complex fishing activities that cover most of the sea shore.
From small canoes with one or two men fishing to large powered boats running massive circular nets far out to sea. Where small islands lie offshore, out-rigger sailing vessels race across the waves and at one point we passed over a sophisticated sawmill where logs were being unloaded from a large ship onto barges to be brought inshore.
By Surabaya we had no doubt that Bali was well within reach, and despite this making it a seven hour plus flight, we decided to push on. Bali lies in East Java with a narrow channel to cross but long before we got there, we were met by banks of cloud with plenty of rain all around. Another one of those decision moments - stick to the east coast and fly though the rain or head west, over the mountains and stay dry.
The coast would be lower and have plenty of landing place, the mountains might be dry but meant lots of think forests and not much space between mountain and cloud base... After much chatting on the radio and clear evidence that the clouds ahead were getting too thick, we turned 90 degrees right and started a slow climb to make it through the mountains. The combination of climbing and turning into the headwind meant more fuel burn but with plenty still on board we didn't see this as a big problem.
After half an hour of ever thickening forest below and strengthening headwind, we were wondering about the wisdom of our choice but one thing we have learned is that once a decision has been made and the option still looks doable, the best thing to do is ride it out and never doubt. As it turned out, once we rounded the largest of the peaks and swung back on track, the ground fell away into a populated valley and the wind once again got in behind us. The diversion also meant we had a wider section of sea to cross but with abundant time and fuel, and both trikes running well, this was nothing more than a twenty minute chance to take in the beauty of the Java coast and try to make out Bali in the distance.
Soon enough we had the runway in sight and a string of big jets taking off and making for destinations all over the world. The runway at Bali must be interesting in a big jet as it ends abruptly in the middle of the sea but for us there was plenty of room. Later we walked past the fire station where they have a huge fire-fighting boat tailored - obviously a requirement should someone not quite make the western take-off.
Our only hassle on the ground was the airforce who didn't have a copy of our clearance but after some talking we sorted things out, and talk about a small world - the duty officer was the brother of Cheppy, our patron in Jakarta. He explained that since the bombing here things have been a bit tense and this we could well understand. We also explained that after a seven hour flight, we weren't always the chirpiest of people.
Fortunately Bali is a serious tourist zone so finding accommodation has been easy and it looks like a day spent sorting out the clearances ahead will be time well spent.
Alan
March 7 2004
Bali
Indonesia
Hi everyone from a very hot and sweaty Bali. Oh the torment we put ourselves through to bring you this web page.
Our updates have been a bit few and far between of late but lets just say that the internet has not made a big impact in Indonesia yet. To those who continue to send us messages and mails of encouragement - Thanks a million. They really help lift the spirits and feed new energy in when the going gets tough.
We have made good progress over the past few days despite some interesting afternoon weather and diversions to give Presidents their share of the airfields (read the soon to be posted updates...) Our next big one will be the 7 hour crossing to Australia just as soon as we get the go ahead from them. Should be in the next few days and hopefully we'll keep you all up to date as soon as we land down under.
For now its back to the heat and fax machine but keep watching and please keep sending those words of encouragement. We might not get to answer them in the short-term but they are all stored and we'll get back to them as soon as we can.
Alan
Mar 7 2004
Bali
Indonesia
Early takeoff had us on our way to Surabaya which would hopefully only be a fuel stop and then on to Bali. Another day of amazing scenery. As this is the rainy season the area is always cloudy with huge cumulus clouds and it is always raining somewhere around or even on us. Most of the time we have been dodging around and in-between the raining clouds but sometimes it gets us and it rains heavily. The flying suits we have are incredible and keep us warm and dry through it all. They are made by a clothing company in Cape Town called "African Nature" and have a double layer inside of some high tech product which obviously works well.
When we got to Surabaya we assessed the situation and had enough fuel to make it to Bali so it was a right turn direct to Bali which soon became a right turn into a mountain. The mountains are huge volcanoes everywhere and we could not get over it or around it because of storm clouds so after some squirreling around we found a way through some lower section. Things became rather tense when we were eventually down to 100 ft skimming over dense jungle with no possible landing areas. Perseverance (or lack of alternatives) eventually got us onto the South side of the island and we luckily managed to out fly the rain.
Bali was fairly clear, had a 20 knot wind straight down the runway which made it easy to land. Ofcourse it was not long and we were requested for a copy of the flight clearance which took several calls, tantrums and faxes to produce. We did some work on the trikes and behaved like tourist for a day. Inspite of the rain the area is boiling hot and humid so your cloths are constantly wet, we feel lethargic and it is very difficult to generate the energy to do things.
It is a rare opportunity that we have had to be able to fly to these resort islands one after the other unlike coming to one destination for a holiday and experiencing only that one. Ofcourse that one place will be fantastic, as Bali definitely is but if a friend had to ask for advice as to which one to visit first, I would highlight Phuket and Langkawi which only differ depending on how modernized a resort one would prefer . The primary reason for this is because these areas are cleaner and there is less pressure on exploitation of the tourists. But if one wanted to explore unfound destinations for diving, sailing, surfing and all the rest, the entire coast from Thailand, Malaysia and Indonesia would be the ultimate play ground.
Each day we feel as if we have flown over what must be the most beautiful areas in the world and then the next day is even more amazing and so it continues. We are very fortunate to be doing this and encourage you to do something similar.
Ciao
Ricky
March 9 2004 ?
Kupang
Indonesia
Well, we’ve reached the Eastern Indonesian town of Kupang and its time for the big one. By this afternoon we should have the clearance for Australia and then its all systems go for a quick flight to Dili in East Timor where we load up with fuel, give everything a final check over, put our water-wings on and then head south for our biggest sea crossing.
The distance from Dili to Darwin is a shade under 400 miles and translates into the better part of 8 hours over water. Although we are very well prepared for it and have everything we could possible hope for, there is always that nagging thought in the back of the mind.
Our departure from Dili looks set for either Saturday or Sunday, depending on the weather and at this point we do not know what the internet scene is like over there so this might be the last update before Australia.
We’ll take off at about 11pm SA time and will try to get a message to the web page via SMS to let you all know how things are going.
Alan
Mar 9 2004
Kupang
Indonesia
Ende and Kupang
We took off from Bali into a head wind which had us concerned as to "weather" or not we would be able to make the destination of Ende. An hour or so of persistence started paying off as the wind reduced to nil and gradually turned into a tail wind. We flew past one volcano after another. Most of them were partially covered in cloud. We would get a glimpse of one side, then the cloud would move and we would see another angle of the mountain but they would never totally open to afford us the opportunity of a clear photograph.
As the day progressed it rained harder and harder but primarily over the land and we were able to fly over the sea and stay out of it. About half an hour out we called on the radio to the ATC at Ende to let them know we were approaching. He was surprised to hear us and warned that the visibility was very poor and it was raining extremely hard. This obviously made us worry but we had no choice and headed for the runway and prepared to face the rain. Ten minutes out from the runway, the rain stopped and we were able to turn back to the land and had a beautifully clear site of Ende and its surrounding volcanoes. The runway was like a shallow duck pond but served the purpose.
We walked around town a bit and found something that looked like supper and later spent the evening sleeping on the airport floor. Once again the locals were very kind to us and generally went the extra distance to assist us. If only we could all add a bit of this kindness to our daily lives it would probably be beneficial to ourselves.
Everyone got so enthusiastic when they heard what we are doing. They called the local press (Flores Press) who came out and took photo's and it was in the morning newspaper. We could only recognize the photo as the text was in Indonesian.
The ATC told us about three lakes on the mountains behind the airport that were three different colors of water so in the morning we did a detour to try and find them. No luck, we didn't find them. We headed out to sea for Kupang. It was a three hour flight across the sea and had a lot of cloud formations that we had to detour under, over and around. This helped to break the monotony of the route and in no time were there.
On arrival at Kupang there were VIP's at the airport and this time they were military VIP's. They were awaiting the delivery of an aircraft bought by the Indonesian airforce that was being flown in from Australia and was enroute to Surabaya. When it landed we got to meet the pilots Dave and Alan who have been ferrying aircraft around the world for many years.
We had lots of laughs exchanging stories about the petty bureaucracy involved in flying through different countries and no sooner had we spoken when their departure was delayed because the customs man had forgotten his rubber stamp in town (a forty minute delay). Please don't get the impression that this is only in Indonesia. It is all over the world even the most organized of countries. Indonesia in fact is a lot easier than most and has been an absolute pleasure to travel through and a highly recommended travel destination. The problem is a simple dynamic of human nature. The more people involved in a process the more opinions resulting in a more complicated process. Unknowingly we probably create some of the complications ourselves.
Kupang is a small town which used to have a lot of tourism which came to an abrupt end a few years ago when three UN workers were harmed during the Indonesia/ East Timor dispute. All scheduled flights into Kupang were terminated and now the town struggles to exist with most tourist facilities being only the essentials. A pity as there are some beautiful scenery and diving etc around here.
Our timing in most of our destinations has been coincidental with some or other event or campaign and this one was the beginning of the voting campaign. One day suddenly the streets were crowded with processions of flag waving people and taxis. With the army and police on full alert and all around. Alan was at one end of town and I was at the other end at the airport dealing with clearances when it all started. Admittedly I was very apprehensive not being quite sure about what was going on and great timing for us to be separated. I got a lift on the back of someone's motorbike back into town and it was a lot of fun. It was like a cheer leading competion with everyone having a lot of fun.
Kupang was a nice stop over and we were greatly assisted by the airtraffic controller, Suraydi, who got things organized for us with customs and immigration etc. A few phone calls and directions that made a huge difference to us.
People like Cheppy Nasution from the Indonesian CAA and Suraydi make the experience of a country from just being a nice place to a fantastic destination.
Cheers
Ricky
March 9 2004
Ende
Indonesia
Day 85 - March 9 Our night on the arrival's lounge floor sure wasn't the Hyatt but provided the rest we needed and the aircon more than bearable. On the down side, we couldn't turn the lights off and a constant string of passers by who'd come to see these strange foreigners made getting to sleep a bit difficult. One of the visitors turned out to be a reported from the local paper, The Flores Pos, and we awoke this morning to a fresh copy with our mugs pasted over the front page! Anyone care to translate the Indonesian text?
Our departure from Ende was almost a non-event. The controller came to say good bye and before we knew it we were climbing out, over the 5 000ft mountains in search of the three coloured Lake Kelimutu that supposedly lay just over the ridge. Well we searched high and low, through the most spectacular jungle valleys but to no avail. Either we were still half asleep or they kept this lake well hidden. Still the diversion wasn't a complete waste because the view of Flores from the clear morning sky is truly amazing. The whole place is a tropical green paradise with terraced farms where the ground allows and dense impenetrable jungle everywhere else. The island is edged by alternating white beaches and sea cliffs and down some of the valleys yesterdays rain had swelled the rivers into raging rapids and produced white waterfalls that stood out against the green background.
After 15 minutes we picked up course and headed for Kupang, 140 miles across the open ocean - a very nice 'warm-up' for the crossing to Darwin. With the trikes running like dreams and more than enough fuel to get there and back, we had nothing to do but sit back and count the miles down. The early morning sea, undisturbed by wind was a uniform dark blue and looking straight down it was almost impossible to make out a reference on the surface.
About three quarters of the way across we came to a ridge of scattered cumulus clouds and once again a game of hide and seek followed as we picked our way through them, choosing rather to dodge around than climb or descend. This provided a welcome distraction and the feeling of insignificance as we passed through these towering columns against the seemingly endless ocean sure puts things in perspective.
For nearly 45 minutes we zig-zagged through, at times flying through bright sunshine, at others in short downpours with the light forming rainbows all around and then, almost unexpectedly we rounded a cloud and there before us lay Timor Island bathed in sunlight. The edge of the island has a coral ledge that extends a few hundred yards and then drops off into the blue depths.
As we approached Kupang, below us a small pod of whales made their way out to see and for the first time today we saw groups of small boats and fisherman. The bay that Kupang surrounds has a solitary island right in the middle, completely uninhabited and the epitome of a desert island, complete with white beaches and palm trees.
At the airport we were met by a few of the local officials but they were happy to wait patiently while we secured the planes and then, about ten minutes after our landing, an Australian plane with and Aussie and a New Zealand pilot on their way to deliver it in Surabaya landed. Turns out they were both long time ferry pilots and we got a chance to chat a bit about our route, the crossings and experiences in different countries. The consensus was that most of this long distance flying is only about 5% flying and the rest bureaucracy. To prove the point, our friends, who had hoped to be out of there in 30 minutes, were stuck for nearly two hours while the customs searched for the right stamp for their documentation!
We unpacked, grabbed a welcome bite at the airport diner and managed to convince the off-duty ATC / handling agent to give us a lift into town.
Kupang is pretty much what we expected an Indonesian town to be - a mixture of small informal shops, some bigger banks and arcades and an endless stream of people. Just as in Ende, westerners are clearly not very common here and the English taught in schools is obviously very standard - 'Hello Mister', 'What is your name?' and 'Where are you from?' is just about all the locals can say and boy, do they jump at the chance to practice! (this is somewhat different to the English taught to some of the girls in Phuket - 'Hello sexy man, $5 me love you long time...') It doesn't really matter what you reply, the smile is the same and our passing is almost always accompanied by laughing.
We found a business center where Ricky got stuck into the business of getting some final documentation though to Australia for our clearance and while he suffered the ravages of air conditioning, I took to the streets in search of an affordable hotel. The heat here is hard to describe. If you can sit still under a breezy tree and not move too much, you stand a chance of surviving but even the slightest exertion and in no time your clothes look like you've just stepped out a pool and you're left grasping for the closest cold drink. The only solution is to do what must be done and then find an air conditioned place to pass out and recover.
My search for accommodation lead to some discoveries. Hotels in Kupang can be very reasonable; if you bring your own bedding, towel and toilet paper and are happy to wash out of a bucket. After a brief search I mange to find a place that falls into our budget and not only has a shower but also provides bedding and is right on the beach. Actually this is another one of those places that could be completely over run by tourists if the word ever gets out. From the air we could clearly see that diving and fishing here must rival the best anywhere and the price, even for the best resorts, are affordable on just about any budget
Alan
March 11 2004
Kupang
Indonesia
Day 87 - March 11 Indonesia certainly can't be described as a boring place. During the day, the heat drives people into shady, air conditioned places but as the sun sets, the place really comes alive. It seems that between the hours of 6pm and midnight the whole country moves outside and does its share of living. Every street is alive with a mixture of roadside food stalls, vehicles of every description and thousands of people milling around, seemingly with some or other purpose.
The smells from the food stalls mingles with the noise of the street and the fading light of the sun to give it a continual carnival atmosphere. The food here is also a strange mix of Indonesian, Chinese and other Asian foods, one thing we haven't seen since Bali is the big golden 'M' or a smiling Colonel Saunders.
Today saw the first official day of electioneering here and, just like the food, they do it a bit different. Firstly if you want to see democracy in action, this might be the place. One of the locals joked this evening that its almost one person one party! They have nearly 50 parties and apparently that is less than half the number that stood in the last elections. Seems if you have a good idea, a printing press and a few dozen enthusiastic helpers you're in the political game.
I walked out the hotel shortly after lunch to go and find Ricky at the internet cafe to be met by the most unbelievable sight. The security guard explained that this was the day of the democracy rally. What bull running is to Pamplona, democracy rally is to Kupang - every party has a few official cars, all decorated from top to bottom in the party colours and sporting the officials in their suits and each one trying to out shout the next on their public address systems, this is then followed by the less formal followers in trucks, pick-ups, taxis and just about anything else that will carry a few flags and some cheering supporters and finally there is the motorcycle brigade. As the procession progresses, its less about political message and more about speed and attitude. The motorcycles number in the hundreds and the sweeping curve in front of out hotel would have rivaled the best MotoGP track anywhere in the world. How no one gets killed is beyond me especially as the main way to win votes seems to be to hand out T-shirts which of course has the children swarming over the whole place trying to see who can get the most shirts.
Somewhere in the mayhem I missed Ricky but later we met back at the hotel and shared stories - he'd taken a ride on the back of one of the taxi bikes to the airport only to return into the midst of the chaos. His initial thought was that there had been a coup or something, which is a very accurate description of the proceedings.
We spent the evening at Lavalon (http://www.geocities.com/lavalon_edwin), the unofficial tourist info center and a very rustic, laid-back pub where Edwin, the owner, was intrigued by our story and insisted we give him a letter for his guest book. Turns out the place is a real gem of information and comes highly recommended as a first stop for any tourist venturing into this part of the world.
Alan
March 12 2004
Dili
East Timor
Day 88 - March 12 And so it arrives - the night before the big crossing. To say I was sitting here not thinking about 8 hours over water tomorrow would be a lie. Fortunately shuddering engines and suspect fuel are little more than a distant memory and for the past few weeks the trikes have flown like a dream.
Today's flight can only be described as perfect. We were helped out at the airport by Sukandya, the ATC / ground agent who arranged customs and immigration and made sure our clearance was in order. By 8:15 we were watching the town disappear behind the hills and within and hour were cruising over the deepest blue sea imaginable, broken only in places by brown line where flooded streams pushed out into the depths. For once we were lining up to land and actually wishing we could just carry on.
Dili, or at least the airport at Dili seems much quieter and less developed than what we're seen along the islands. Obviously the independence and changes here have played a large part in this but the surrounding area, especially the coast, has to be the best we've flown over on this leg. On the ground we were met by the same heat we'd left in Kupang and a very friendly Canadian crew who are out here flying for the UN. Not wanting to waste time (and money) going through immigration, the Canadians took it upon themselves to get stuck in and help getting things like food and fuel and even offered us a room for the evening, right next to the planes.
So now we're sitting here, trying to put down some thoughts on the day and not think too much about the long day of nothing but blue that tomorrow promises to be. On the technical side it will be a 390 mile flight, 8 hours in calm conditions but we'll take off with 10 hours endurance, more then enough for most eventualities. The Canadians, who have flown the area on a daily basis have also been a wealth of information and have given some good tips on the route and what we can expect but what it will come down to is a long sit in a small chair over a big piece of water. And apparently where there aren't sharks, the are salt water crocs... another reason to keep our feet dry!
Alan
Mar 12 2004
Dili
Hi From Ricky
All is well and we are now in Dili. You don't know where Dili is? Well it is in East Timor. You don't know where that is? Well draw a line 566km North West of Darwin across that huge blue ocean and where it touches the Northern shore of the biggish island at the East end of the Indonesian islands, that is Dili and East Timor.
Very important that it is 566km and not 565km because if it was 1km less that would be equal to 1000 km less for us to stress about and right now we are stressing 566000km worth. It is 7 or 8 hours of flying across the same blue scenery. Why are we doing this? What have we done to deserve this?
Apologies for the delay on the update but we have been in rather remote areas where down loading from the note books have not been possible. But we have been good and writing lots so soon the web is going to get a flood of updates.
This area has been increasingly beautiful as we have been flying along. You would think that one would get used to the scenery and not take notice of it but that is not the case.
Today flying from Kupang to Dili took three hours and it was way too quick because there is so much to see. The reefs and clear, clear blue water with the light and deep greens of the mountains behind and islands etc are just magic. This is a play paradise. Great for the basic type of traveling like back packing with a pair of goggles and fishing rod. Get a basic small camper and drive around, catch ferries to other islands and go hiking or mountain biking and diving.
Hold thumbs for us tomorrow. Got to go Alan wants the computer. We are at a UN base in Dili with some really great people.
Cheers
Ricky
Perfect Weather for 566km across the Timor Sea
March 13 2004
Darwin
Australia
Day 89 - March 13 Difficult task trying to put the day into words. I guess the flying is best described as stressful boredom. 8 hours of flying with the better part of 7 hours over nothing but blue stuff. After all the anticipation and planning, the whole flight bordered on an anti-climax. Sitting for 8 hours just waiting for all those potential things to go wrong so that we could spring into action and put into practice the procedures we'd planned.... and then nothing. Every inch of the way the planes behaved perfectly, consumption by the book, speed as constant as ever and even the weather played along to present not so much as a bump.
But arriving in Australia!!!! What a feeling. I can remember sitting back in SA at my office desk with the map of the world pasted to the desk and every day looking at Darwin and the crossing from Dili and trying to imagine what it would be like and probably in the back of my mind wondering if we'd ever make it.
And today we did. Watching the blue horizon for hour after hour and then, right out there where the blue of the sky blends into the blue from below a thin, almost indiscernible dark line appears and, too slowly to notice, it grows, first a white line where the surf meets the sand, then some green where the trees start to show and finally the fully defined coast line. Its still an hour off but knowing its there makes all the difference.
Our route brought us in over Melville Island so about 90 minutes before we were over mainland Australia we already had land to our east and if things went wrong, we had an option, even if it is supposed to be surrounded by sharks, salt water crocs and box jellyfish... But still nothing went wrong and with Darwin Approach guiding us in on the radio we got our first good view of Darwin and an air traffic controller who's home language is English. Even the dreaded customs and quarantine officers were friendly enough and after our most thorough check to date, we got the all clear, the passports stamped and a code to get through the security gates to get back to our planes.
So far we really love Australia and tonight we might just have a beer or two.
Alan
March 14 2004
Darwin
Australia
Quick update from Darwin.
With a developing cyclone out to the east and less than ideal flying weather (rain showers and gusty winds) we decided to spend another day in Darwin and wait to see how things go.
With a bit of luck we'll head south tomorrow (Wednesday) and hope to make Adelaide by Sunday. Not sure how much updating we'll be doing from the Outback but as always, we'll keep it stored and update when we get the chance.
Alan
March 17 2004
Day 93 - March 17 Happy birthday Ricky! We'd long spoken about our arrival in Australia and how fantastic it would be to head out into the desert, fly freely all day and then pick a deserted landing strip at night and enjoy the calm desert nights... Nice thought!
With the Wet outstaying its welcome and having been stuck in Darwin waiting for a cyclone to make its mind up, we finally got a break this morning and headed out - into the heaviest rains we've seen so far. At times visibility dropped to a few hundred meters and we really got a good washing.
The plan was to head out about 80 miles to Richards farm and the site of the W.W.II airfield Comalie, where he would meet us and give us a guided history of the place. And not a moment too soon did we find the place, clear of rain and a welcome break.
Richards passion for both history and aviation is evident in his infectious enthusiasm and for over an hour we drove around the old airforce base, hearing about Japanese raids, reunions and impressions of what life must have been like. He even took us to the chapel that he has lovingly rebuild, a true work of art out under the trees at the bottom of one of the small hills surrounding the strip.
Far too soon it was time to head out, our plan to make Daly Waters and its historic pub (research purposes only!) Or departure looked good and for at least a while we had clear skies and only mild turbulence but as we approached Katherine things started to look gloomy and rather than bash through headwinds and rain, we chose the old airfield to sit it out. Once again we are in a country where this sort of thing is the norm and with no flight plan and no itinerary, we could just do as we pleased.
While Ricky hitched into town to get some fuel, I chatted to some of the locals, including the Katherine Daily News, with Mark the reporter probably quite happy for the distraction. With full fuel and tummies we thought the weather also looked better and once again headed south. Oh boy, were we wrong! Ten minutes and we were back into it, heavier than ever. The controller from Tindal, who'd been following us on the radar, suggested routing more east but after only a short break we once again picked up the wet stuff.
By now the headwind had also increased and Daly Waters would have to wait for another day. To our left under a bank of clouds, lay Mataranka, a rather tiny town with an airfield, two filling stations and a couple of houses - the perfect place to share in Ricky's aging process.
So here we sit, drenched to the bone in our little tents. Outside the rain still falls steadily but at least we are clear of the cyclone and good prospects for blue skies tomorrow.
Happy birthday Ricky! Now where is the cake?
Alan
March 18 2004
Tenant Creek
Australia
Day 94 - March 18 WE woke to a wet but sunny morning and, apart from having to pack the tents away damp, were none the worse for wear. Departing Mataranka was as easy as just packing up, checking the strip for wildlife and then just heading out.
'Out' was once again south down the Stuart Highway. The surrounding area clearly still in the midst of The Wet, with pools of standing water everywhere, rivers flowing strong and everything just looking far too green for the Outback.
The few remaining clouds from last night helped keep the ground cool so for the first two hours we could sit at 3000 ft and just enjoy the scenery. Mostly small trees and bushes lining a very long, straight highway, which in turn is, punctuated very few kilometers by the legendary Road Trains.
The flat, straight layout of the road and remote locations of many of the smaller villages makes the road trains just about the only viable way of getting stuff out here. These monsters are often three of four trailers long, measuring up to 50 meters and apparently stop for nothing. Its easy to see where they got their names when you see them from above, steaming down the highway.
With an ever-increasing headwind and thermals starting to shake us around a bit, we decided to find a landing spot and some fuel. Ricky was carrying the detailed ground map and suggested a place about 20 miles on called Elliot but when we got overhead, the strip was on the wrong side of the road and the town looked very small.
Right in the middle of the town was another strip with a Cessna alongside so we circled overhead, joined the circuit and landed, on Newcastle Waters, a cattle station a few miles short of Elliot! Oh well, the people were friendly enough and seemed quite undisturbed by the unannounced visitors. It was obviously our lucky day because right there next to the field was a bowzer with just the unleaded fuel we needed! With our tanks full and ready for the next bout of roller-coaster riding, we climbed back in and headed south again - slowly gaining altitude and looking for anything that might resemble a tailwind.
By 8000ft we were still in the thick of the thermals and still no tailwind so we leveled out and did out best to ignore the pitching and rolling that made enjoying the flight a challenge. For the next two and a half hours I can't say that there was much to relieve the feeling of just wanting the flight over. Despite the stunning openness and horizon to horizon view, the turbulence just kept getting worse and when Tennant Creek finally showed at 10 miles on the GPS and it was time to start the descent to land, life finally started to get bearable again.
Tennant Creek is a old mining town that still has some mining activity but seems to rely more on trading and tourist now. We secured the planes, hung some of the wet stuff out to dry and took a walk into town to find some food and bring back some fuel.
Life in the town is very much like any remote town you might find in the Karroo, Freestate or probably Navada. Most of the vehicles are bakkies (Ute's or pick-ups), industry is a mixture of used car lots, take-away places and of course the hub of the town seems to be the hotel, or more precisely, the hotel's pub.
We sweated it out getting fuel back to the planes (only to find AVGAS is as cheap and right next to our planes...) and while refueling are approached by someone who introduces himself as Chris, an ex-Rhodesian and pilot.
Needless to say we spent the next hour or so chatting about everything from economics to aircraft and as he leaves, another light aircraft lands and in no time we have more new friends and head to the pub to see what all the fuss is about. We share stories over a few beers and call it a night fairly early as we have a long day ahead. Seems sleeping under the wing is the way its done here and by midnight the Tennant Creek airfield resembles some kind of bizarre camping ground. The day's fun fades as we try to fall asleep with the temperatures probably still right up in the 30's - at least it dries out the tents!
Alan
March 19 2004
Alice Springs
Australia
Day 95 - March 19 The morning broke not much cooler than the night before but the headwind had dropped and there was not a cloud in sight. We said cheers to the other pilots, swapped details and were once again migrating south.
The Stuart Highway provided the perfect track and with the sunrise over our left shoulders we took full advantage of the relatively cool, turbulence free ground and stuck at treetop level right down the white line. We soon picked up an admirer in a white ute (pick-up) and for about half an hour we exchanged waves, 'posed' for photos and just had some fun.
100 km outside Tennant Creek lies just about the only break in the horizon, a low range of hills divided by a shallow pass and at the far end lie the Devil's Marbles - an intriguing array of massive round stones, poised on other rocks and at strange, almost unnatural angles as if about to fall. Apparently formed when this place still lay under the ocean, their strange appearance seems to fit rather well here.
A bit further along we passed Wycliffe Hills, a roadside stop that boasts a massive sign saying 'Wycliffe Hills - Official UFO center for Australia' I hope we gave them something to talk about as we wove our way down the road.
By 9am the heat was starting to grow and with the turbulence becoming hard work again, we climbed slowly, at first through a stiff headwind but then, at 8500ft things got smoother, colder and a lot faster so we sat out the rest of the leg with a perfect 360 degree view of the Outback, now clear of the wet further north and although a bit greener than expected, still very clearly an inhospitable place that , if not for the highway, wouldn't be good to cross in any sort of way.
Alice Springs came over the horizon gradually and also presented the first bit of controlled airspace we've seen in days. The controllers seemed unfazed by our approach and fed us in behind some big things taking off for Sydney.
On the ground we knew for sure we'd reached the real Outback. Like the handling agents in Karachi, no sooner had we come to a stop when we were besieged by flies. Their sheer numbers and tenacity are hard to explain but suddenly those hats with the corks dangling from the brim don't seem quite so comical anymore.
Alan
March 20 2004
Coober Peddy
Australia
Day 96 - March 20 The cool evening air brought amazing relief from the flies and sitting there under the blanket of stars, it was hard to think of the day as anything but perfect. By 11pm the ground was cool enough to sleep peacefully and judging by the snoring coming from other side of Ricky's trike, the situation was being taken advantage of.
Morning broke with the same calmness but long before first light we had the trikes ready and as the horizon started turning deep red, we taxied out and set course for Coober Pedy, some 300 miles south over the vast Simpson Desert. Once again the early morning flying was unbelievable, no turbulence, wide open skies and with the sun rising to our east, everything to the west changed slowly from a dark grey, through every shade of red imaginable and, with the sun finally up, assumed their natural colours. A group of balloonists were sharing the pre-dawn calm and about 10 miles south of Alice Springs we passed six of the gentle giants with their envelopes lighting up from the burners as they set sail with the wind to some unknown destination.
If we were in any doubt as to where we were, the early morning scenery made it clear. 30 minutes into the flight we passed the first gathering of kangaroos, staring up curiously at these strange birds disturbing whatever it is that kangaroos do in the morning. From then on, for the first hour at least, every few minutes we'd pass another group, some barely glancing up, others taking flight, their effortless bounding making it look as if they don't even touch the ground.
By ten we were starting to feel the heat coming up in ever increasing bumps but climbing only brought heavier headwinds and we knew we were in for a long day.
Looking down on the desert landscape you can't but get the feeling that this is one of those ancient worlds where time means very little and mans impact has been limited to the odd dirt road or attempt at a fence. The red sand and scattering of bushes has the same feel as parts of the African deserts, bringing back the images as if we were flying over them a few days ago.
The further south we go, the drier things get and the section between Alice Springs and Coober Pedy is as wide and dry as anything we've flown over to date. With the headwinds and strong thermals the final hours of today's flight were probably some of the most challenging flying of the entire expedition. Our estimated six hours got closer to eight and by the time we were ready to descend into Coober Pedy, the ground was awash with dust-devils, shaking the small trees and bushes and throwing columns of red dust hundreds of meters into the air.
Final approach was like riding a bath tub down a grade 7 rapid, with luck playing as much a part as good piloting in getting us safely to the ground. And on the ground the fun really began - just trying to secure the planes was a handful with dusties (dust whirl winds) kicking off every minutes or so from the baking apron and threatening to throw the planes with us dangling below right over the boundary fence.
Luckily we made good the tie-down process and were fortunate enough to catch the refuel man who'd come along to fill up a passing helicopter. Also there to meet us were the flies and they shared their Alice Springs cousin's passion for flying into every available orifice. The fuel man took pity and opened the airport terminal for us, a one roomed shack with an arrivals desk, scale and - AIR CONDITIONING!
We hurriedly filled the planes, unpacked what needed to be unpacked, paid for the fuel and ran for shelter from the heat and flies. The afternoon was spent preparing for tomorrow and stealing a much needed afternoon nap under the welcome relief of cool, bug-free air.
As the sun started to set we ventured out, knowing that the flies aren't night rated and wandered off to get a look at the opal mines behind the airport.
What I didn't mention earlier is that on descent to land, the landscape below looks like someone took a giant shotgun and blasted a thousand holes into it. You see Coober Pedy, if the sign outside the airport is to be believed, is the opal capital of the world. The mining process seems simple too - dig enough very deep holes into the earth and eventually you will find opals. The holes are about 1 meter in diameter and literally disappear into the depths of the earth. Each one marked only by a large pile of dirt making this an interesting place to walk after dark. And it seems that when you're done digging the hole, the accepted practice is just to leave it there, making for a very interesting, if someone disturbed, scene.
Back at the airport we whipped out the two minute noodles, gas stove and pots and while the water boiled, jumped the fence into the fuel dump where the emergency wash bay (normally reserved for people who get themselves covered in AVGAS) provided our first proper shower in three days. I'm sure if anyone had stood downwind they would have agreed that the need to wash did constitute an emergency!
The evening has ended with some steaming hot noodles, a much appreciated cup of cappuccino and the simple pleasure of lying out on the apron taking in the absolute splendor of the desert night sky - and those eternal questions like 'Are we alone out here in this universe?', 'Is there a creator?', and 'Who's going to do the dishes?!?'
Alan
March 21 2004
Port Augusta
Australia
Day 97 - March 21 Another early Outback morning and another take-off with the red glow of the sun just over the horizon. We left Coober Pedy still slumbering as Sunday mornings should be and headed out, over the thousands of opal pits and into the cool desert air. For the first time since leaving Nepal we got to feel the chill in the air that signified we were finally out of the tropics and thankful once again for thermal suits and warm gloves.
The flight south, probably because of the colder air and despite a fresh headwind, was surprisingly smooth. At 4000 ft we found our best ground speed and sat back to enjoy the flight. And that was pretty much it. For the next six hours we hardly felt a bump and our only distraction was when our route passed over the site where, back when getting man-made stuff into space was all the rage, Australia had shown their ability to play with the big boys - along the edges of massive dry pans, so white that looking straight at them actually strains the eyes.
But seemingly too soon and with very little change in the desert scenery, the finger of ocean that reaches up from the Tasman Sea to form the bay that Port Augusta sits on, came into view, the blue ocean a welcome break from the reds, browns and greens. We lined up overhead the runway and after a brief shake-up lower down, were back on mother earth and practicing our Aussie wave to keep the flies out our faces.
Port Augusta sits about 150 miles north of Adelaide and with winds increasing through the afternoon gave us a clear reminder what life outside the tropics is all about. The town lies about 5 miles from the airfield and thanks to some very helpful locals we managed to get fuel back to the planes and some food the keep the pilots from fading away too. Another night on another airfield and if the winds plays along, tomorrow we'll get to Adelaide and a welcome couple of days on the ground to service the planes and relax with friends and family.
Alan
March 22 2004
Adelaide
Australia
Day 98 - March 22 Yesterday's wind was little more than a distant memory by the time the sun rose and we were passed 4000ft on our way south. The weatherman hadn't got it completely wrong but certainly things were a lot better than predicted.
The flight to Adelaide would be little more than a short hop in comparison to the past week but we'd also be flying into the busiest airspace we've seen in a while. At 5000ft things were fairly routine and the only major difference as Adelaide drew closer was the change of the scenery below from wild, untouched bush and desert to neatly manicured farmlands, the plough lines looking almost like the brush strokes of some unseen modern artist.
Our route in would pass a dozen or more airfields, the last before Adelaide Parafield, being Edinburgh, a very large and very active airforce base. Adelaide control had us on radar and a few miles short of Edinburgh handed us over the military ATC.
Our request to descend to circuit altitude was put on hold and we were asked to change track and head due east, right over the military field. Not being in a position to argue, we duly followed orders and only once overhead was our curiosity answered.
There, 4000ft below, two F18 fighters taxied out and lined up in perfect formation. The controller came back on the radio and confirmed our exact position and then, right on cue, the two fighters sprang to life and blazed off, banking out right and vanishing in the blink of an eye. Both Ricky and I sat there in dazed amazement and if we'd thought a bit faster might have thanked the airforce for putting all that effort into welcoming us to town. But that wasn't the biggest surprise...
Parafield is one of the busiest training airports in the southern hemisphere but the ATC's guided us in without the slightest hitch and there, right next to the tower as we taxied in was Ricky's daughter. We swung right in and parked the trikes at the fence. And then, around the corner came the real surprise - Ricky's mom had planned a secret mission to meet us out here and the look on his face said it all.
The rest of the day was spent just relaxing with family in a real house and letting the fantastic surprise just sink in. For the next week or so we'll be staying firmly put, getting the planes up to scratch and probably doing a lot of laundry too. Updates might be missing but fear not, we'll post an odd bit or two and will return in full force by the beginning of April, ready to take on the rest of the world; with clean clothes.
Alan
________________________________________________________________________
Mar 22 2004
Adelaide
Australia
Hi from Ricky
We have eventually made it to Adelaide and it was fantastic to meet my daughter Natasha who has been the primary reason for us flying half way across the world off the direct route around the globe.
Much to my surprise my mother was also here to meet us. One really appreciates family after you have missed them so much.
The flight across the outback of Australia has been the hardest flying we have done so far. We flew through blinding rain, had near disasters in thermic conditions through the desert, sleeping on the hot, hard aprons everyday and all of this into strong headwinds.
Will update all the details soon.
Cheers
Ricky
Mar 27 2004
All well in Adelaide. Doing Daddy duty and enjoying it lots.
Inbetween we are continuously working away at servicing trikes, organising Russian Visa's, arranging permits for the return trip up to China and Russia. Organising maps, updating new software onto GPS's , catching up on all the emails, organising money,writing articles and arranging radio interviews (Should be on SAFM (South African radio station not South Australian) today, Saturday at about 11 or 12pm South African time).
Just to let you know that things have slowed down a bit and we do relax. Have a look at the web page www.wingsoverafrica.com for some photos of the Malaysia experience. We are struggling to get photographs up on our web page but the web designers, Gensys, are working on it.
We have had a very warm welcoming from the Australian fraternity and are looking forward to flying through the rest of the country. The plan is to leave Adelaide on the 3rd of April and head towards Wangaratta where there is the annual gathering of the Australian microlighting clubs. From there we intend on heading to Melbourne, Canberra, Sydney, Brisbane, Rockhampton and the route back to Darwin where we envisage departing to Indonesia on about the 20th of April. This route is not a fixed plan and we will be swayed off course hopefully not by bad weather but rather good people to meet and interesting places to visit.
Alan is in Perth visiting his girl friend who has come out to see him and is bringing spare parts and other goodies for us. He will return to pilot duty/chief entertainer on 2nd April.
Back to enjoying time with my daughter.
Cheers
Ricky
Mar 31 2004
Adelaide
Australia
Incase you were thinking that it is all feet up and relaxing let me fill you in on the hard work that is happening. I have been working on getting together the flight clearance for the rest of the trip. Indonesia is sorted out (hopefully) so it has been applying to Malaysia, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, China and Russia. Each application takes about three hours to sort out the details into a printed form. Tomorrows chore is to fax them which sounds so simple but never is because faxing to so many foreign countries normally takes a lot of trying and retrying.
We have considered flying through Borneo, Philipines, Taiwan and across to China but have decided to avoid the delays that may arise out of the clearance between Taiwan and China. Who knows if the Chinese say ok we might still do it. This has also been an opportunity to get the side bags restitched as they were beginning to show signs of major over loading abuse and a few other smaller details like drying out Alan's sleeping bag which have been wet since the torrential rains we flew through in Indonesia. A few other things like a new gas bottle for my life jacket which automatically triggered itself off in the rain in Darwin. Yesss, we have had some interesting flights.
While here I have met a very interesting person which I will update you on tomorrow.
Cheers
Ricky
April 1 2004
Adelaide
Australia
Hi from Ricky Adelaide, Australia
We have been following the swimming heats for the Australian qualifiers for the Athens Olympics. The media give it huge coverage which gets everyone so motivated and excited. Inspite of all this coverage and support of sports, we have noticed an interesting trait with Australian's in that they have a tendency of understating their great achievements. We have been surprised at the great people and amazing records that have been achieved by Australians.
While in Adelaide I met someone who is typically of this nature and is an important person in the world of aviation. A man whose achievements have not been as publicized as greatly as it should be, Mr Jon Johanson. Jon was a nurse by profession and practiced for many years as a midwife in maternity wards. A male midwife. Is that not the makings of an interesting person? In-between delivering babies he built a small aircraft (RV-4) and decided to fly from Adelaide to Oshkosh, which is in the center of the USA. In his planning he calculated that it would only take him 12 hours extra to keeping going and fly around the world so he set that as his goal.
In-order to try and get sponsorship for the trip he thought he should achieve a few world records first. He set out and achieved them. BP then sponsored the fuel and so followed a few more sponsors like Garmin sponsored the GPS but no single big sponsor was forthcoming so he got going. He got to Oshkosh and around the world and one would think that was it but no.
He then flew around the world in the opposite direction and became the first person to fly around the world in both directions. As if that was not enough in 2000 Jon again flew around the world but this time over the North Pole. One would expect that he would have been content with that and would have been flown-out but No! He then flew his same little aircraft that he built, all the way to the South Pole and back and became the first person ever, in the 100 years of powered aviation, to fly a single engine aircraft solo over the South Pole. On that flight he flew non-stop for 26 hours. Just when Alan and I thought we were tough flying 8 and 10 hour legs. It is so encouraging speaking to him and to hear how he put everything into his dream and went for it. Look his name up on web and read about his achievements. He has written a book very aptly named "Aiming High" which can be bought by contacting Jon at jonj@flymore.com.au
Cheers
Ricky
April 3 2004
Melbourne
Australia
Day 110 - April 3 After more than a week on the ground and being just 'normal' people, getting back to the hangars and dragging the planes out was a welcome return to what we've been accustomed. Don't get me wrong, the break has been fantastic and seeing friends and family has provided a recharge that money can't buy but at the end of the day, we're out here on a mission and saying goodbye is just a step closer to the day we return home.
By the time we'd finished remembering where everything was supposed to go and had finished with the TV crew that came to see what all the fuss was about, we were almost an hour behind our intended take-off time. But with people like John Johansen, who helped provide some of the inspiration for the trip, dropping by to say cheers, it didn't really matter and soon enough we routing out into the cold mid-morning and trying to figure out what all the buttons on the GPS were for.
The flight, despite taking nearly 7 hours and being rather cold (my helmet mic failed so I was forced to fly with the standard, open headset and nothing to keep the head warm....), was a perfect ease back into the flying. The country side between Adelaide and Melbourne is fairly flat with only the occasional hill to break the horizon. The wind, despite being slightly from the front (is this an Ozzie thing?) was smooth enough to barely ruffle the trikes and with Ricky out front all I had to do was sit back and ignore the permanent ice-cream headache that the helmetless cold brought on.
Inbound to Melbourne we passed a few smaller airports with very active general flying but as we've discovered, Australian ATC only want the big aeroplanes to talk a lot and we were pretty much left to our own devices. Talk about being made to feel at home...
On the ground in Melbourne was John Oliver and a huge group of local flyers and once we'd negotiated our way through a half-dozen tin cans in the circuit, we taxied up and were greeted like old friends. Another evening of pilots chatting over beers and tomorrow we get back to the business of flying and writing more stuff.
Alan
April 3 2004
Melbourne
Australia
Hi from Ricky
We are up and running again after a much needed stopover in Adelaide. It was great to leave the tooth brush in one place for awhile and be semi-normal and do daddy chores and stuff. The Television interview at departure created a distraction that made the good-byes less emotional for all concerned. Jon Johanson came out to bid us farewell which was much appreciated.
From Adelaide we flew directly to Point Cook airfield in Melbourne which was an eight hour flight. A long eight hour at that, as we had to fly at 7500 ft in 4 degrees and secondly because I needed to make a wee stop but could not afford the delay due to running out of day light.
John Oliver, who runs the local microlighting school was there to meet us with many other flying enthusiasts who abducted us to the pub for dinner.
The next morning we were fortunate to meet Vinny who came out to wish us well on the expedition. You may ask who is Vinny? Look up his web page ( www.parasail.com.au ) and read about his incredible story and expedition. This is a man who was paralyzed in an accident at the prime of his life but refused to allow circumstances to get the better of him and instead he choose to pursue his dream. Vinny spent the following seven years building himself a yacht and then sailed it around the world non-stop and SOLO. The worlds first paraplegic to sail around the globe and solo. The stories he tells of surviving the storms, broken masts and dealing with his physical limitations are incredible. It will give you goose bumps to read the stories he writes about in his book which is soon to be published. On his web page are his contacts for details to find out when the book will be available. Vinny is someone to remember next time we fabricate reasons why we are not doing our own thing. He shows us all that limitations are self imposed.
Cheers
Ricky
April 4 2004
Wangaratta
Australia
Day 111 - April 4
Maybe the best way to sum this day up would be to describe the scene right now - outside the tent its perfectly calm, the only noise is the distant chirping of the crickets and the odd rustling from the neighbouring tents. Above the moon is shining so brightly that the keyboard is light up enough to see the keys (with my three finger typing this is a big help) and just beyond the campsite, in an open paddock about half a dozen trikes are anchored safely for the night. Wangaratta has seen another of the annual microlight gatherings and we made it in just in time to catch the tail end and finally meet some of the people who have been following the website and keeping in contact making this a very special day.
But it started on an all together different highlight. For some time Ricky has been keeping in contact with Vinnie, a paraplegic from Melbourne who despite his condition, has managed to build a yacht and sail, single-handed and non-stop around the world. Well much to our delight Vinnie made it to the field to see these crazy little aeroplanes and even crazier pilots and share some of his experiences with us. Talk about inspiration! Schedule was forgotten and for more than an hour we chatted about everything from travel to books and everything in-between. What an honour and, when time eventually caught up it was another tough farewell to some great new friends.
Melbourne in the (not too) early morning light is really fantastic - the gleaming buildings, towering bridges and beautiful sweeping bay are something to behold. Air traffic is also quite something so between gazing off into the distance we had quite a time watching all the big passenger boxes heading off in all directions and the odd Cessna coming a bit closer than we've seen in a while. The arrival in Wangaratta after two and a half hours of sitting back and enjoying the view was made very special by a bunch of the trikers taking to the air and escorting us in.
On the ground the feeling of being among 'family' was almost too good to be true. Finally people who really know what we're going through and gather around not just as curious spectators but as fellow adventurers who appreciate some of the finer details, A great afternoon was spent making heaps of new friends, learning all about Australian flying customs and finally being taken out and really spoiled at dinners.
Sitting here now with the full moon overhead and the trikes standing like ghosts on the other side the fence, it really puts into perspective just how blessed we are to be part of this great adventure.
Oh, and now the chirping of the crickets has been joined by the unmistakable snoring of Ricky - that's going to make falling asleep fun...
Alan
April 5 2004
Canberra
Australia
Day 112 - April 5 Waking to the sounds of a microlight airfield at dawn is something I think we'd almost forgotten - people shuffling about, creaking of trikes being pre-flighted and finally the inevitable crackle of a two-stroke springing to life - yet another reminder that we're amongst family and motivation enough to get up and see what everyone was up to.
The few people who stayed over last night were already well into the day and Mez was first to grab us and 'force' breakfast on us. Certainly the kind of treatment we could get used to. The rest were in various stages of early morning flying and after a very welcome serving of scrambled eggs and coffee, we slowly packed our trikes, prepared the three hour route for the day and said our thanks and farewells to an amazing group of trikers that have added yet another amazing chapter to our Australian visit. Can't help but wonder if they really like us or just feel sorry for us because of our rugby team...
By take off a fresh easterly (headwind of course) had begun to build but climbing through 5000ft we found the still air Kevin had predicted (arranged?) and made good progress towards Bowylie, Dick Smith's farm and our stop for the night. Bowylie lies about 30 miles north of Canberra, just over the Great Dividing Range but apart from that, we had little knowledge of what lay in stall...
Approaching Canberra airspace we would have to descend not only to avoid their control zone but also to avoid cloud at 7500 ft where we were cruising. No sooner had we throttled back when things got very interesting. For a while we had been flying in wave turbulence from the mountains but at higher altitude it does nothing more than provide a relaxing, slow-motion roller-coaster effect. Below 5000 ft it turned into a washing machine and at times, even with full power we were descending at alarming rates.
Nothing to do but see if Canberra would mind a small intrusion into their zone. Fortunately the controllers were in a good mood, brought on by some airline pilot botching a radio call and making things worse by trying to apologise. With our transponders on we got the go ahead to climb and at 9500ft life became a lot more bearable.
A passing jetliner commented that the sky over our destination looked fairly clouded in but fortunately we know that the view from a jet cockpit can be very limited and at their speed, details can be a bit blurred. 10 miles out we descended through one of the many holes in the upper layer of clouds and apart from the sudden decrease in ground speed, all was well.
Arriving at Bowylie was just that. The heavy gusting crosswind had both of us fighting right to the ground but once there, we were almost too amazed to speak. Although Dick Smith is in Sydney, Ben Hassler his 2 IC was on hand to greet us and show us around.
In a word - WOW! The airfield has been restored to its former glory and is filled top to bottom with every bit of aviation history from pre 1900 to the present. Pushing the trikes in next to a perfectly restored Westland Widgeon sort of put things in perspective.
Inside is not only a chronicle of Dick's amazing achievements but also signed photographs and letters from some of his friends. I think I'm writing this from the chair where Chuck Yeager sat last week during Dick's 60th birthday and across on the wall is a picture of the Voyager, signed by Burt Rutan and Jeane Yeager. Meeting Dick in a day or two will certainly put another dimension on this trip.
And don't think it stops with the planes.... outside in a shed are parked two trains, which helped to explain the railroad running around the garden. With all this 'stuff' around, its going to be hard to get to sleep tonight but I'm sure once we do the spirit of this place will fill our dreams with legends past and present and images of the true pioneers and their amazing feats.
Alan
April 6 2004
Australia
The road to here.
Over the past three months we have become so much part of the bigger adventure that in many ways for us it has become a day to day living and often to get up in the morning and to keep going, that is the way we have to look at things. But for now, for this brief break from the routine in Australia when we get to relax with friends and family we have a unique chance to take a good look back and quite often we have to pinch ourselves and say 'Hey, we're in AUSTRALIA!!!'
To sit and try to summarise all that the expedition has been through would be impossible but there are certain things that have remained constant in our ever-changing uncertainty of an existence.
Firstly the support from everyone that has come into contact with Freedom Flight. From people we talk to in strange exotic eating places, to the people back home who help in so many ways to friends and family and the people who 'wander' in on the website and instantly become part of what we are doing. When things might not be going too well and a message from a complete stranger that goes something like 'You guys are living our dreams. Keep it up!' comes in from nowhere, its like a magic drug that can't be explained. Instantly things are better.
The team too is something that constantly amazes me. Being boys, we don 't always allow the state of our existence and the emotions we feel to get to the website, but in the past 100 odd days there have been some very trying times, times when the sky has been grey and all around walls seem to have been built that threaten to challenge our path forward. What is really amazing is that at times like that the team seems to be at its closest. We draw on each other's strengths, we focus on the goal and often with some defiant bit of humour drive forward in ways that probably surprise those around us as much as they do us. I think the true measure of a team is what happens when thing go badly rather than when they go well, and if that is true, I can't imagine dong this with anyone else.
The aircraft too, have developed into as much a part of the expedition personality as anything else. Often in the evening after a particularly long and tough day, when we've finished securing and refueling them I can't help but stand back and look at the little white machines and marvel at they way they continue to deliver whatever it is we ask of them. We've grown into the expedition together and when people, unfamiliar to the project, hear what we're doing and come back with the inevitable 'You're flying around the world in THOSE?!?!?!?', its easy to understand where they are coming from but at the same time a huge compliment to everyone who was involved in getting them onto the apron in Cape Town on the 16th of December.
The scenery too, although never the same for even an instant, has provided the perfect canvas to show that through all our differences and struggles, at the heart of it, the world is full of people who share the same values, dreams and fears. Borders are just lines drawn on pieces of paper, often by short-sighted people who have lost touch with the green, brown and blue that make our third rock from the sun our best shot at being human.
Forward we look to China and Russia with a bit of anxiety but if we've learned one thing over the past 24 odd thousand kilometers, its that each day is just another step on our amazing expedition and come what may, we'll be a richer for each hurdle we overcome.
Alan
April 6 2004
Bowylie, Canberra
Australia
Hi from Bowylie
From Melbourne we flew to Wangaratta to a fly-in of microlighters who had their annual get together there and we were once again well received. The flight was at altitude again due to the head wind. Damn we have struggled with headwinds for a while now. It gets frustrating. Because we fly so far a small headwind results in a long time extra in the air. If you take off with a six hour flight in mind and it turns out shorter that is fine but when you expect to take six hours and it takes seven or eight hours, that destroys your motivation. OK! I will stop whining. It is all part of the mission .
That evening we were once again abducted to a restaurant and held to ransom where we were forced to tell stories about the expedition for supper and beer. What a pleasure! To anybody who is meeting us along the way please remember this tactic and we will to pretend to resist.
This morning we left Wangaratta and headed north to avoid controlled airspace of a local town and then headed North East to a Farm called Bowylie. The wind was about twenty knots head wind lower down so we climbed to 7500 ft for the regular tail wind and freezing cold temperatures for a mere four hours. After two and half hours things started to change. As we got closer to the Great Divide Range, we started experiencing wave effect of the wind over the mountains ahead. As we approached the descending air, the microlight descended with it. Doesn't sound like too much of a problem does it? Well try full throttle and still descending at 500ft per minute and see how anxious things become. We persevered with the idea that if the wind goes down further ahead it must go up well it did and at 500ft per minute up with no power. Sounds like fun? Well try the next wave but add a huge amount of turbulence to it and you find out why it is important to have a strong seat belt and why it is equally important to wear a helmet to avoid wasting the money your parents spent on orthodontistry, against the control bar.
We called the Canberra air traffic control and begged him to let us climb to 9500ft into their airspace to get out of turbulence. It was probably because of the fear in my voice that he agreed to it. Things smoothed out and the +1 degree temperature did not seem a problem with the body pumped full of adrenaline.
At ten miles from the runway we descended to a mere 25 knot head wind with a range of mountains upwind to create some really nice turbulence for landing. The landing would diplomatically be described as an arrival.
We arrived in Bowylie. As we taxied off the runway we went passed a building that looked old in design but well maintained. A timber construction with horizontally slatted exterior painted in light green, the windows painted in an off white colour which looked slightly faded and a verandah across the front. The front garden area was fenced off with a very low, about 500mm high, off white picket fence which gave the building an authentic look of an era which dated back to gin and tonic and a cigar with the chaps at the club. Above the verandah on the gable end wall was an old looking round sign with a old airplane above which was the name "Bowylie" and below "Flying Club". This building was the original flying club built in 1922 to encourage flying in Australia. Inside the club is an amazing collection of historical photos, letters, autographs, paintings and stories of all the famous pilots and adventurers throughout the period of aviation. Included in the collection are the flying adventures of Dick Smith who now owns the farm and has restored the buildings to the last detail of perfection. Dick Smith is a well known Australian man who has many achievements to his name and among several of his aviation achievements is, The first man to fly a helicopter around the world, which he did in 1983.
It is a brilliant collection of aviation history which has kept Alan and I engrossed for several hours reading and looking at details of each display.
We hope to meet Dick Smith in Sydney and find out more about his adventures.
Good Night.
Ricky
April 7 2004
Canberra
Australia
Day 114 - April 7 We all know those days when you get to the office and try as we might, it just feels like you're going round in circles getting nowhere... Well today was one of those days in our office!
After spending yesterday in Canberra trying to sort out our Russian visas (a tale of mystery and suspense best told at a later date...) we were once again well looked after by Ben and Sally, spending a fascinating couple of hours paging through the books laying out some of Dick Smith's exploits.
First light had us up and about and staring at the sky. Despite a few scattered clouds things looked good and after saying thanks and good bye we headed east towards Wollongong where we hoped to pick up the coast and route north, past Sydney and up to Somersby.
Nice plan.... but about 30 miles out those scattered clouds got less and less scattered until close to Shelleys we had to face reality and routed first to Goulburn where we met a great bunch of local fliers and got treated to hot coffee and got to share some flying stories. But the longer we waited, the more the clouds and wind grew. With little other options, we took off and turned tail, riding the growing wind all the way back to Bowylie and a rather surprised Ben and co.
From a mission point, sometimes turning back is the hardest thing to do because the feeling of getting nowhere can be really frustrating but looking at the bigger picture, to sacrifice a day in favour of safety is far more important and at the end of the day, we couldn't really choose a better place to do it.
Alan
April 8 2004
Sydney
Australia
Day 115 - April 8 If at the end of this diary entry you close the page and think 'Yeah right! Tell us another!' don't worry, I think Ricky and I are in the same boat.
The day started off much the same as yesterday - except that there were far fewer clouds and the temperature was a few degrees lower. In the crisp morning air we once again thanked Ben and once again took off for the coast but right after take-off we could see that the way to the coast was clear and short of major problems, we'd make Sydney in no time.
The land lies fairly high from Gouldburn right up to Wollongong where it suddenly drops steeply right down to the coast. At sea level the air was thankfully a fraction warmer and cruising down the coast in a calm tailwind was a welcome change from the past few days. The towns south of Sydney all seem to be bunched on the coast, with magnificent mansions perched right on the cliffs and beaches, and from our 1000ft high grand stand we got spoiled for things to point out. Just before Sydney harbour and in line with the international airport, the airway for light aircraft is very specific and as per our instructions, we lined up at exactly 500ft and remained dead on track, fearing even the slightest deviation might render us little more than a bug-splat on a 747's windshield.
Luckily we got through the space early enough to just get a good view of all the big birds taking off and avoided too much of the traffic coming the other way. Its hard to concentrate on looking ahead when just off to our left was the Sydney harbour bridge and familiar white arches of the opera house. Sitting there, looking at this sky-line and thinking back to the month of planning and dreaming back home resulted in more than one of those 'pinch-me' moments. Ricky too was obviously taken with the whole scene and hardly muttered a word.
And then things took a turn from amazing to unreal. Dick Smith had suggested he might meet us and maybe treat us to lunch but when a voice came over the radio asking for our position and we realised who it was, we both took a moment for a good reality check before Ricky passed the information on.
We were passing over Lion Island, just north of Palm Beach and in three minutes were joined by a magnificent Agusta helicopter. Yup, we'd just passed Dick Smith's house and he was there to escort us up to Somersby airfield. The next few hours are an incredible blur but maybe getting them down here will help put them in perspective.
By the time we landed, Dick was waiting and after coming over to introduce himself suggested he'd fly us over to his place for a bite to eat. Len Birger, an ex-South African who'd been in touch for a long time and was also waiting for us seemed equally taken by Dick's arrival and hopefully wasn't too upset when we accepted Dick's offer.
We took off from Somersby in Dick’s helicopter, for once without the wind in our faces (unless air-conditioning counts) and to the gentle strands of Enya were given the most unique tour of Sydney that anyone could ever dream of. To recount it might take a day or two but suffice to say the bridge and opera house are everything they are cracked up to be and then some.
While still trying to accept that this was really happening, we lined up for the helipad on Dick's front lawn and he squeezed the big chopper in as easy as someone parking in their own garage. Well, actually that's just what he did...
The next few hours were spent absorbed by Dick's advice, stories and recalls from his 5 round the world trips. His energy and enthusiasm had us both nearly run off our feet but the whole experience and invaluable input from one of aviation's modern pioneers, especially in the way in which it was done, will stay with us long after we're back home telling stories of our own.
Even now, 8 hours after Dick dropped us back at the planes, there is still a feeling of magic about the day and across the table I can see Ricky with the unmistakable smile that I'm sure I'm also still sporting.
Not sure how we'll get to sleep tonight but maybe the fantastic braai (that's South African for BBQ - only better) that Len and Kathy laid on for us will help.
Alan
April 9 2004
Old Bar
Australia
Day 116 - April 9 Plan for the day was to take it easy and spend some time on the ground getting things done and then we woke to the most perfect day we've seen in a long time. When we asked Len if it would be a problem if we changed our minds (again) and flew out, he assured us it wouldn't be a problem and suggested he might follow us for a while.
And so, an hour or two later we were saying thanks and good bye again and between preflights and warming the engines, got a chance to meet even more pilots out at Somersby. With Len's Aquilla trike forming what must be the first threesome of South African trikes ever to have flown over Australia, we headed out and into the most perfect day.
Within a couple of minutes we were back over the coast and were amazed by the beauty of the coast north of Sydney. The multitude of bays, rivers and estuaries that form a labyrinth of waterways right up the coast, and of course being Easter weekend, every boat within a hundred miles was there making the most of it.
About half an hour up the coast Len turned back and after a last farewell, Ricky and I descended onto the deck and for the first time in many months got to do what microlights are best at - just cruising, a few feet off the deck, taking in every detail, down to the smiles on the children's faces, as we passed by. For the entire two and a bit hour flight we hugged the coast, climbing over fishing lines, waving at the kids and, on the more remote beaches, seeing who could spot the most topless sunbathers.
Everything just worked out perfectly, the beaches, the weather and the chance to have some good old fashioned fun flying - no thermals, no bureaucracy and no long stretches over water. By the time Old Bar came into sight we were both reluctant to call it a day but maybe what they say about too much of a good thing might just be true.
Old Bar has a runway right next to the camping sight and on the ground were Glen and Thi who we'd met at Wangaratta along with a few other pilots and once again the routine we're getting used to here fell into place - an afternoon of talking flying and planes faded into an evening of much the same.
Oh, and much like our game spotting trips, Ricky may have come off second best in the topless spotting contest.
Alan
April 14 2004
Day 121 - April 14 We spent the night under the trikes in a fitting way to get back into a long push back to Darwin and the wind that had us worried about landing yesterday had strengthened through the night and promised to make taking off quite a handful.
We did our packing and with the generous offer of a car to fetch fuel, were soon ready to give it a go. Of small comfort was the fact that the skydive plane had taken off with a load of jumpers and if they could land, we could take off. And then they came down without jumping....
We taxied back, braced ourselves and hit the throttle. All the monsters we imagined were there. Fortunately we chose to only fill the main tanks and with the light load, we had a climb rate that made the washing machine turbulence only a temporary affair. Still we got to see the earth from some strange angles and got a better understanding of leaves that are blown around before a storm...
The first hour was interesting in many ways. Firstly we were heading back inland and as far as the eye could see, patches of cloud lined the way, in places much higher than our planned height resulting in the inevitable game of dodgems as we weaved our way towards what we hoped would be less turbulence.
With the lighter fuel load we had decided to play a heavily edged bet - setting course for three alternates, based mainly on what sort of tailwind we could pick up. Our first option was Charter Towers, a mere 150 miles from the coast and then Hughendon and finally Mount Isa, assuming we picked up a cyclone tailwind.
By 50 miles out we could see that Hughendon was the safe bet and adjusted course accordingly. The topography below made for some interesting viewing, the coastal beauty slowly giving way to the familiar interior scrub and grasslands we had seen on our way south from Darwin. To add to this we also crossed the coastal range but with this only barely making it to 2500 ft, we hardly noticed the climb.
Soon enough Hughendon came into sight and with more than a hundred miles between it and the coast, the wind had died considerably and landing, although a bit bumpy, wasn't anything like the takeoff a few hours earlier.
Ricky did his thing and within an hour we were refueled and on our way to Mount Isa. The day before we got a met report predicting a strong temperature inversion at 7000ft. Obviously these guys know their stuff. At 6500 the temperature was down to below 10 degrees but as we popped through 7000 the thermometer shot up and by 7500 we were sitting at very comfortable 20 odd degrees. To make life even more fun, we also had a 30 to 40 knot tailwind and spent the reminder of the day staring down on a vast, almost entirely untouched moonscape with only the odd sign of life where water from the wet season still pooled.
Mount Isa appeared over the horizon and either the name comes from some long forgotten punch-line or since it got its name the mount has been flattened because apart from the odd molehill there really isn't anything that even vaguely resembles a mount. With the trikes securely parked, we pitched our tents right there on the apron and enjoyed the most spectacular blanket of starts. One thing about the outback, once the sun sets and the flies go home, the sky opens up and puts on a show that really can't be faulted.
Alan
April 15 2004
Daly Waters
Australia
Day 122 - April 15 The night sky was still there in full glory by the time we woke and started getting the trikes ready. By the time we started there was only a faint glimmer on the horizon and by takeoff we still needed our strobes to keep separation. But that's probably the best time to be flying. Watching the horizon undergo the magic that brings dawn from a few hundred feet is without a doubt the best way to start the day.
By the time most people were probably only thinking about what to have for breakfast, we were already a good few miles into our day and skimming low over the miles of emptiness, enjoying it to the fullest before the sun rose too high and started throwing up thermals that can really make flying too much like hard work.
And until this happened, that's just about all we did. The odd kangaroo bounded away in surprise and where the almost alien looking water holes could be found, herds of cattle gathered, but other than that we just stuck really low and did our best to stay awake. By ten the thermals started to kick in and we slowly climbed back up to 7500 ft and equally enjoyed the endless space from above. After almost 7 hours of following the GPS we finally saw a break in the endless nothingness that signaled the Stewart Highway and along its edge, the historic town of Daly Waters.
Daly Waters has a fascinating history as one of the key transit points, first for terrestrial transport and later as an international airport during the golden age of aviation. Quite fitting then that we land here. Today the airfield is a museum and the town thrives on its legendary pub and a string of tourists. We meet both.
The pub isn't easy to leave but when we finally do, we stop off at the town reservoir on the way back and enjoy a bush shower under a torrent of water usually reserved for people unfortunate enough to fall into the chlorinating plant. We probably need it more, having spent a good few days without running water. The tourists we meet in the pub are on a bus tour and as the demographics favour the fairer of the species, Ricky takes special note of their route further and seems to spend extra time inputting tomorrow's route in the GPS. Wonder what that could be about?
Alan
Daly Waters
April 16 2004
Katherine
Australia
Day 123 - April 16 Refreshed from another comfortable night on a hangar floor, we push the trikes out into the cool pre-dawn air and go through the morning ritual of loading, pre-flights and checking GPS's to make sure we know where we're going to get lost.
The departure from Daly Waters is as smooth as silk and for the first few hours we just coast along the highway. Below us the odd truck flashes its lights, some campers wave as we pass overhead and we spot a few kangaroos, some living, others having met the business end of some or other form of road transport during the night.
The flying conditions in the early morning outback have got to be some of the best in the world. The air is perfectly still, the changing colours of the desert waking to the sun make every minute new experience and, flying low over the trees in a trike you can even smell the late summer bush smells. Birds of every description dart in and out of the branches and above not so much as a cloud disturbs the blue. But by 9 am the sun starts to bake down and soon enough the air turns bumpy and the choice is either stay low and get bounced around or start a slow climb and stay smooth. We climb up slowly and watch the ground speed on the GPS slowly increase too until Darwin shows at a little under three hours.
Having enjoyed our usual breakfast of water, we're obviously both thinking about real food and when Ricky comes over the radio and suggests a stop in Katherine for a bite, he gets no resistance from my side. Having stopped there on the way through, we know the place has all the requirements and are soon circling overhead to land.
On the ground conditions have got a bit gusty but we secure the trikes and make our way into town where we devoured a local hamburger with the works - a towering construction that needed more than two hands to hold onto and certainly filled any voids left by the breakfast of water.
On the way back, by some stroke of luck or sly navigation on someone's part, we bumped into the tour bus and got a chance to swap some travel stories and say cheers as they headed further north for the night. We got back to the planes and decided that flying further was just going to upset the burgers.
While deciding what to do, another one of those moments happened that left us standing there with our mouths open, wondering if what happened was for real. Out of the blue a truck from the local power company pulled up, the driver jumped out and handed us a couple of cold Cokes and a bag of ice, saying he though we might need them. And then jumped back in and headed off, barely giving us time to thank him. Kindness like this is hard to understand sometimes in our crazy world but that one act of a complete stranger very much summed up our experience of Australia.
Back to surviving Katherine.... Fortunately (more good luck or skillful navigation?) the airfield is bordered by a camp site where we check in and found a bar, tended by a friendly Pom who provided cold beer and general advice on where to get a good meal. A few beers later and we headed to the local sports club where the kids were playing rugby, the adults watching enthusiastically and the pub served an ‘all you can eat’ type meal. And while we sat back and enjoyed probably more than we could eat, we watched rugby. First the Stormers and then the Bulls take their opponents to pieces. Talk about the perfect end to a great day!
Alan
April 17 2004
Darwin
Australia
Day 124 - April 17 Another early morning and another great flight. Take-off was made interesting by a few brave (or stupid) kangaroos that insisted on getting a good look at these strange machines disturbing their morning graze but once airborne we had, once again, nothing to do but follow the road and head north.
First stop was Coomalie, where Richard Luxton was waiting to get some photo's and after a great reunion, we were back into the air and struggling through mid-morning turbulence to get into Darwin.
Darwin ATC was as friendly as ever and got us cleared in no time. I must admit that the site of Darwin from over the sea was a lot more inviting that approaching with the sea on the other side, knowing full-well that our next long flight would once again be out over the blue horizon and with careful preparation and a bit of luck back into East Timor.
The next few days will be spent doing the preparation for the hop as well as finalising a few other details we need to get done while we still speak the local language and have access to every convenience we could hope for. At best we hope to take on the crossing by Wednesday but this will depend mainly on the weather and how quickly we get rubber stamped at the Indonesian Embassy. Either way we'll try to post a few updates and let you all know when we'll once again don the lifejackets and head off.
Alan
20th April 2004
Message sent to me via Ricky's friend to say that they would be leaving on their flight for the crossing of the East Timor Sea at 23h00 tonight (South African time) which would be first light for them in Australia. They said that they are extremely nervous and struggling to sleep!
Regards
Bernice Griffiths
the goldfish studio
April 21 2004
Dili
East Timor
Day 124 - April 21 Darwin to Dili With many things in life, doing them the first is scary, after that is becomes routine. Strange as it may sound, flying a microlight over large pieces of ocean is not one of those things. Even after getting prepared well in advance and with all the chances of favourable weather and a tailwind, sleep did not come easy.
The thought of heading out of Australia and all the freedom and good flying and back into the third world with the struggling and bureaucracy probably didn't help either but when the alarm dragged the eyes open, I could have done with another week's sleep.
As if to show just how good we had it in Aus, the customs officers even came out to do the paperwork at the planes and wished us well, with a little of that look in their eyes that let us know they thought we weren't quite right upstairs. We taxied out and took off just as the sun was rising and all the way along the eastern sky a line of broken clouds formed the most amazing patched of filtered light, showing the way out to sea, past Melville and Bathurst Islands and the clear blue horizon.
The monsters we'd left when we arrived were still waiting there patiently for our return. The little one that makes the engine sound just a bit rougher, his friend that seems to make the fuel level in the tank look lower and the other one that just climbs into the back of your mind and tries desperately to turn on what little logic there might be left, and question what exactly it is we're doing out here - FOR THE SECOND TIME!?!?!!
But the drill stays the same. Checking fuel flow, monitoring engine stats, verifying navigation and ground speed and when things get just a bit too crazy or boring, reaching into the side bag where a stash of muesli bars and other goodies are stored to provide some relief and recharge the mind.
Another welcome distraction came in the form of Australian Coast Watch Dash 7 patrol aircraft that picked us up on the radar and came in for a close inspection, popping out the clouds to our right, circling a few times, questioning our sanity on the radio (we seem to get that a lot) and then vanishing off to continue its search for boat people, fishermen and other infringements on Ozzie waters.
Despite a fresh tailwind, time still seemed to drag with minutes feeling like weeks and having cleared the clouds that drifted off the Australian coast, we had nothing to do but watched the miles on the GPS wind slowly off and scan the horizon for anything resembling terra firma.
And then it happened. A bank of clouds on the horizon roughly in the direction we were heading suddenly sprouted a mountain sticking many thousand feet out the top. Unlike the way across to the flat Australian coast where land only became visible from 50 miles, Timor has mountains up to 8 000 ft and from nearly 170 miles we suddenly had confirmation that the GPS was once again working fine.
Putting the feeling into words isn't easy because the stress of flying the little plane over open ocean isn't a single, defined danger. Instead its more like a collection of thousands of possible dangers, some big and obvious, others small and almost subconscious, that all come together like a blanket that covers your spirit and weighs heavy on the shoulders.
The sight of the approaching coast is very much like waiting for Christmas as a kid. You know its there, you can see it approaching but nothing you do can make it come faster. All you can do is wait with the kind of patience that no one really has. The last few minutes until you know you're within gliding distance of the coast feel like forever - and then the point passes where you know without a doubt that land is within reach and that blanket lifts and for a few minutes you're left with a feeling that only a kid at Christmas might knows.
At Dili we were met by Merinus and Christopher, two South Africans working for the UN and soon enough were sitting at the dive club, sipping beers and chatting about life far from home.
Alan
April 21 2004
Dili
East Timor
We have made it to Dili in East Timor in a mere five hours and fifty minutes. it was a great flight with tail winds. There is something really relieving when you make it back to land. Not that flying over the jungle is any better to fly over than the sea. Along the way we were visited by an aircraft from the Australian coast watch that wanted to come and look at these crazy ultralights that fly across the sea. Flying over the sea has the advantage that it is smooth air and not like flying in the Australian outback where occasionally the instrument panel disappears under your legs and the ground appears above your head and when we last looked at the altimeter it was fluctuating between 1000ft and 10 000ft.
We will be in Dili for two days and then it is off to Kupang in Indonesia and some long distance flying.
Cheers
Ricky
April 23 2004
Bali
Indonesia
Day 131 - April 23: Ende to Bali Once again the flying was basically a reversal of the way down, not that it was boring or mundane, not at all. The incredible island scenery and hops across the channels made for a fascinating flight. The constant change from clear white beaches with coral reefs to black beaches, obviously washed down from the volcanic inland with hundreds of fishing villages to sections of the island where we broke from the coast and flew over dark green jungles, far scarier to fly over than the open ocean, all providing enough distractions to make the 6 hours in the air literally fly by.
But on the ground things weren't quite as easy. On the way down we spent a day in KL organising visas and making sure our paperwork was in order and were rewarded by a smooth passage through. So, like creatures of habit, in Darwin we took three days and $250 to do exactly the same; only to find out today that we couldn't fly through on a tourist visa (the exact reason got lost in the translation) and that what we actually needed was a 14 day transit visa, a mere $60 and available right here.
Needless to say that after a long day in the air, that didn't go down too well. Admittedly the official who looked like he too hadn't had an easy day, with his unshaven, hang-dog face and obvious desire to be somewhere else, didn't know that we had wasted three days and a few soft beds worth of money on something we couldn't use, but in his defense, he did take our little rant rather well and, when all was said and done, gladly accepted our $60 and issued the transit visa anyway.
With those formalities out the way, our plans to still make Surabaya by sunset were well and truly shot so we took our time refueling, filing flight plans and making out way back to the same cheap hotel we stayed at on the way down. In fact I think this might be the same sheet I slept on last time...
Alan
April 23 2004
Dili
East Timor
Day 129 - April 23: Dili Having spent most of yesterday trying to stay out of the water, today we had no choice but to get hold of some snorkeling gear and see just how good it gets. AJ, Merinus's security guard tagged along to show us where to go and in a little bay, about a kilometer from the airport we walked off the beach and into an underwater wonderland.
From 1000 ft overhead it is apparent that the water is clear and there are a few coral reefs but once below the surface the show really starts. Every imaginable reef fish (and probably some unimagined) is there, within a few hundred yards of the street and around each coral peak and under each rock a new surprise waits.
We spent what felt like a few minutes but actually stretched into the hours just drifting along, wide-eyed and absolutely amazed at the spectacle nature puts on in this tiny corner of the world. When you hear of the horrors that took place on this island in such recent times, it makes the whole experience seem like a weird dream.
For Merinus and Chris who live here, this is every day diving but to anyone who thinks they have seen the best, this is the place to come and measure up against. And on a reef a few kilometers long, there were just the two of us...
Back on dry earth and stark reality, we spent the remainder of the day wandering around town, trying to stay out of the heat and enjoying the laid-back atmosphere and friendly locals and ex-pats. We even met an Australian trike pilot who now lives and works in Dili, who very kindly treated us to lunch. Seems our luck with the Aussies extends well past their borders!
Merinus and Chris organised a great evening out with dinner and a chance to meet yet more South Africans and their extended families. Seems the UN hospitality includes welcoming trike pilots far from home.
Alan
April 23 2004
Ende
Indonesia
Day 130 - April 23: Dili to Ende The easy way to tell of today's flight would be to suggest reading March 9 and 10 backwards but then I'd just be left sitting here with nothing to do....
Formalities at Dili don't seem to take a high priority so with no real fuss I got the passports stamped while Ricky sorted out the flight plan - something we'll have to get used to again now that we're back in the real world...
A chance to say cheers to some more new friends and the customary exchange of email addresses and we climbed out with the rising sun at our backs and valley after valley of tiny settlement and fishing villages. By the time we passed many of the boats were already miles out to sea.
The flight to Kupang took a little under three hours and apart from some clouds to dodge, didn't provide anything but great views.
As has become customary for our little expedition, we arrived in a Muslim country on a Friday, which meant of course that everything closed by 11am and no one really wants to work. This even extended to the immigration officers who firstly required that we took a taxi into town to find them, and then simply suggested that, because we have been through Indonesia recently, we could do the formalities tomorrow - we didn't bother asking if they minded if we were in Bali tomorrow when we checked in....
With that behind us, we got back to the planes, repacked and once again took off for a 150 mile sea crossing to Ende... we just won't learn. But with fresh tailwinds things went well and there was hardly even time to answer all those little voices in the head.
Tonight we're back on the arrivals hall floor with the lights that don't go out and a string of people coming to check out these strange flying creatures.
See, you could just as well have read the previous entries backwards. Alan
Flying to Ende, Indonesia
April 25 2004
Bali
Indonesia
Hi from Ricky ( a bear with a sore head)
At the moment we are in Bali and routing north. I have spent the entire evening trying to update the web page and have fail miserably. Three internet cafe's later and after typing long messages that were deleted each time by virus infested computers or electricity cutting out this is the last attempt. Yes I am having a big whine. We have had no sleep and it is now 11pm and we have an 8 hour flight tomorrow.
We left Darwin and flew across the Timor sea with a brilliant tail wind which has been working for us for the last three days and hence the big flights. It has been spectacular flying conditions which makes a change from the turbulent outback of Auz.
The trikes are running brilliantly and using about 13 litres of fuel per hour.
Went snorkeling in Timor which was mega impressive and even beats the Red Sea.
Will update again but it will not be tomorrow as we are heading into technical remoteness.
Alan and I have still not had a fight and I am starved of "female companionship" (Alan had his girlfriend visit him in Australia). If there is anything else you want to know please send a message to the web page and I promise to answer it honestly and on the web.
Now I am going to sleep.
cheers Me
April 25 2004
Cirebon
Indonesia
Day 132 - April 25 - Bali to Cirebon. Anything but mundane. In Malaysia we bought fuel labeled 'Premium' because it was the best. Today, more than a month later in Indonesia, we learned that apparently labels can be deceiving.
To date through Indonesia we've been using premium and not having any problems which may be due to the fact that it has normally been mixed with existing fuel or used in ideal conditions. Today we needed to fly a bit higher and probably push a bit further and, in doing so, discovered just how long 6 hours can be.
It all started pretty well. We even managed to convince the security guard manning the side gate at Bali international that we were allowed through, thereby avoiding a 20 minute walk to the terminal and all hassles of regular check in procedures. Half an hour before planned we were airborne and heading, in blissful ignorance off the island and out towards Java and some 400 miles away, Cirebon.
The scenery for the first two hours was spectacular. If you recall our arrival in Bali, we had to route around thunderstorms and in doing so, missed some amazing volcanoes. Well this morning they were there, in open blue skies and Semera, the large and very active volcano just south of Surabaya, was smoking away merrily and even pushed out some fairly impressive vapour clouds as we passed by.
And then it started to happen. Those familiar little coughs that indicate that the Rotax isn't happy with what it is being fed. Hardly noticeable at first, the tendency is to push them to the back of the mind and hope they're just some choppy turbulence but then, in that heart-stopping moment of coldness, the engine gives a descent shudder that leaves you in no doubt.
Still nothing like the near cut-out over Burma but enough to draw full attention to every beat of the motor and a constant check of every system on the instrument panel. Hoping it was a one off, I kept quiet and concentrated on every detail of flying and then, some 15 minutes later, another shake; and then smooth; running again, as if nothing had happened.
10 seconds later Ricky came on the radio with the question "So how's the engine?" Sure enough, he'd been having the same conversation with universe that I'd been having and after a quick discussion about our options - routing to Surabaya, 15 minutes back, turning to Solo, 10 miles west or continuing to Cirebon, one and a half hours away - we decided to push on, confident that even if the fuel quality wasn't the best, at least we knew it was clean (we check that very well now...) and, as we were flying along the coast, we had plenty of options if things did get worse.
Fortunately they didn't get too much worse but with a shudder or two every couple of minutes, the last 90 minutes sure did drag out and by the time we finally landed, the strain in Ricky's face looked about as bad as the knots in my shoulders and headache felt. We checked the fuel system and sure enough, both planes were perfectly clean and only after chatting to a helicopter pilot who'd landed after us, did we learn that the Premium we filled up with is only really good for burning heretics... We also learned that only certain stations cell stuff called Super TT, a higher octane fuel much better suited to our needs. We managed to find some and have decided to fly a short leg tomorrow to Jakarta where we can by AVGAS and piece of mind. It also gives us a chance to meet Cheppy, our guardian angle from Indonesian CAA and while there, we'll also get to spend the 27th celebrating the Ten Years of Freedom in SA, with the SA Embassy staff.
Alan
April 26 2004
Jakarta
Indonesia
Day 133 - April 26 : Cirebon to Jakarta What a difference good fuel can make to the average day! With fuel better suited to running engines than cleaning stains from underwear, the little Rotax’s sprang to life and never missed a beat for the entire flight. Admittedly we were still a bit cautious and, after take off, climbed out directly over the airfield to our cruise altitude before heading for Jakarta.
The flight itself was nothing out of the ordinary, apart from an ATC who tried his best to make us go away, handing us off to everyone else in the hope we shouldn't come back. In fact I think I heard a sign of relief when he eventually passed us on to the controller at Pondok Cabe, our destination airfield where Cheppy and the other Jakarta aviators were waiting for us.
With ten miles to go we were required to descend to avoid entering the main airport's airspace and at 1500ft the wind and heat made for some interesting turbulence. Watching Ricky less that 100 meters away going from 500 ft above me to 500 ft below in a matter of seconds was too disconcerting so instead I chose to stare off into the haze and look out for the big planes taking off just a few miles away. Didn't get to see any (probably just as well) and later heard from Ricky that he too couldn't bare to see how we were being thrown around either and also rather kept himself busy with other stuff.
Originally we'd thought about bypassing Jakarta completely but after speaking to Cheppy and hearing how much he wanted us to drop in, we decided to add it to the route, and what a pleasant surprise. Firstly just to see the setup they have at Pondok Cabe with all the homebuilt aircraft and aviation enthusiasts and then to get into Jakarta and see just how beautiful the place really is.
The traffic, as with any big city, is hectic but very surprisingly, the taxi was quite reasonable and with the kind assistance of Faizel, one of the pilots, we got to meet the SA Embassy staff and wish them well for the 10th anniversary celebration. After a quick walk around town (far too quick!) we headed back to the airfield where arrangements had been made for us to get a room at one of the university hostels that doubles as a hotel. Not bad for a few dollars and the life saving bonus of air-conditioning!
And then another of those unbelievable acts of hospitality: Ricky called up Capt. Siva from Malaysia to see how our fight permit was going only to find that the mail he'd sent hadn't gotten through. And so the desperate search for an internet connection was on.
100 meters from our hotel door we found an English speaking lecturer who pointed us in the direction of the computer center where we found A.P. Hardono, the head of department who, after a brief explanation of our plight, not only lead us to his office and offered us his computer but also offered us a couple of oranges, some coffee and happily chatted for the better part of an hour while Ricky got the required documents off. Amazing how, all along our route we have received such amazing help from complete strangers.
Once that was out the way we took a walk up the street to find grub - something of a ritual when we arrive in a new town and don't know our way around. Our best efforts at finding a restaurant that had anything identifiable on the menu failed and at last we resorted to our Indonesian life saver, their incredible breads, not unlike the South African 'mossbollitjies' but stuffed with jams, chocolate or cheese and quite irresistible.
Tomorrow we'll take the trikes about 20 miles inland and up about 3000ft to a small microlighting field called Lido where the local trike pilots fly from and spend the day chatting to them and preparing to head further up the day after, back to Palembang and then our last sea crossing for a while, back to Malaysia. For now I have to stop typing before Ricky finishes off the last of the bread...
Alan
April 27 2004
Jakarta
Australia
Day 134 - April 27 - Pondok Cabe to Lido Firstly , Happy Birthday South Africa!
The highlight of today had very little to do with actual flying (that only took 40 minutes) and far more to do with meeting an absolutely amazing bunch of flying enthusiasts and discovering that the stories we heard a little over 6 weeks ago about flying through Indonesia could not be further from the truth.
We left Pondok Cabe a little later than our usual dawn lift off and headed south, through some mid morning haze and in the direction the GPS told us Lido would be. All went well until suddenly the radio was full of chatter and out of the haze two more trikes appeared. A quick exchange informed us that they were there to welcome us and lead us in. This we did not expect!
And then, out of the haze firstly an amazing resort appeared on the edge of a lake, surrounded by steep hills and up on of the valleys, a runway, lined with trikes! We had to be dreaming... But no, it turns out Lido is the center of sports aviation in Indonesia and home of the biggest trike population. Not only that, but FASI (Federation Aviation Sports Indonesia) falls under, and enjoys the full protection of the military. Turns out that if we had known and contacted them, not only would they have taken exceptional care of us but we would also have enjoyed little privileges like not paying for fuel!
The flying community at Lido is unlike any we have met to date. The runway is part of the Lido Lakes Resort (www.lidolakes.com), a one-stop adventure hotel with everything from flying to four wheelers and jungle walks. The whole setting takes some getting used to, especially if you believe what the mainstream media says about Indonesia.
We can barely get off the trikes as everyone comes up to greet us and within minutes we are in the club-house before a spread of snacks and a million and one questions. The most amazing part is that they only heard about our passing through yesterday and managed to get everything organised at the drop of a hat.
The afternoon was spent giving an impromptu news conference, chatting to all the guys about their flying and being amazed at how organised and active the sports flying here really is. To top it off we were treated to a night in the resort hotel. Words cannot describe how good that was - we only wish we could have stayed much longer...
Alan
April 27 2004
Jakarta
Indonesia
Hi from Ricky
We have been flying like rockets across Indonesia. The weather has been brilliant. This Indonesia is amazing and a great place to travel through. I wonder where the news crews fabricate all their B.S. from.
We flew from Darwin to Dili in 5hr 30min. It was like going for a walk in the park. We stayed there with two South Africans Chris and Merinus who work for the UN. Went snorkeling in Dili which was fantastic.
The following day we flew to Kupang where everybody at the airport already knew us and sorted out everything quickly so that we could take advantage of the tail winds and headed for Ende. Ende is a little village with the airport right next to it so it was easy to sort out the fuel and food etc. Airport accommodation that evening and we were off early to Bali.
Bali was similar treatment where everyone knew exactly how to process us and send us on our way to refuel and organize a shower. (A man gets smelly quickly in this heat). The only things that gave us trouble as you know from my tantrum message was the Internet cafe's.
Next morning it was off to Cirebon. The engines nearly stopped several times along the way which frightened the living day lights out of us. Engines wanting to stop are becoming too regular an experience now. In most countries the best petrol to buy is premium but not in Indonesia. Here it is the worst fuel and we did not know this and have been using bad fuel all along. We managed to get some good fuel and replace what was in the tanks.
We then headed for Jakarta to buy some avgas to mix with remaining fuel for the flight across the sea to Malaysia. In Jakarta we arranged to meet up with Chepy who has made our trip through Indo run so smoothly. He sorted us out brilliantly and made contact with other pilots in the area and also with the press so that we could do some publicity for the celebration of the Ten years of Democracy in SA.
We made it into the major news papers and did well at punting SA. We also visited the SA embassy in Jakarta and met the ambassador to let him know that we were also doing our bit.
This morning we flew out to a flying club called Lido about 40km South of Jakarta and met up with the flying club here. A great bunch of pilots who have now abducted us to a great hotel and we are now having a party with them in exchange for the good stories of our trip. This is an entire complex of golf courses, motorbike tracks, parachuting, microlighting and stacks of fun stuff. It is fantastic. ( www.lidolakes.com )
Tomorrow we head to Palembang and on North. Just had great news that the Cambodian clearance seems sorted out. This was arranged by a pilot Dominic Cardy in Cambodia who did it on our behalf. A big big thank you for a big, big stress off my plate.
Cheers
Ricky
April 28 2004
Johor Bahru
Malaysia
Day 136 - April 28 : Back to Johor Bahru The past few weeks have been almost too easy. You've probably even picked up a degree of routine in these updates and might even have become bored with the lack of drama and excitement. Yesterdays flight from Lido to Palembang was much of the same - smooth flying, nice tailwinds and fantastic views. Our only hitch came in Palembang when we discovered that the immigration officer was only on duty when international flights were scheduled and was nowhere to be found. Options were to wait a day or two or to fly to Batam, south of Singapore and check out there. Obviously the latter sounded better...
In the back of our minds we've known that crossing the tropics during the change of seasons can have some weather complications and if the past few week's flying had been easy, what we got today made up for the missing challenge in heaps. Suffice to say the honeymoon is over. 20 minutes out from Palembang we hit the first bank of 'scattered showers' - a towering mess of dark black clouds dumping a curtain of silver rain in the morning sunrise. We change course to route around and managed to get only slightly damp as we passed around the edge.
From then on it became a game of cat and mouse as we first tried to guess weather left or right would keep us drier and eventually came to the realisation that just keeping on track and taking the odd soaking was the path of least resistance. Out over the sea the showers became more and more intense, with churned up water under the clouds giving an indication of how bad the ride was going to be. At places we were down to 500 ft over the water - not a good place to be but better than getting stuck in white-out or worse still, getting drawn into one of the massive cumulus clouds. After five and a half hours of this and trikes nice and clean, we finally got into Batam and were relieved that the island was clear of storms.
Our best efforts to rush through customs and immigration proved a waste of time. Our route to Johor Barhu required routing through Singapore airspace and as Asia's passenger hub, they take a very dim view of anything that doesn't have lots of jet engines and cash-paying cargo.
We ended up sitting on the apron for the better part of 45 minutes, sweating away in our flying suits and watching all around as the clouds continued to grow. Eventually, with the assurance that we had transponders and would follow instructions exactly, we got the all clear and took off. Surprisingly the lady at Singapore ATC was very friendly and guided us very easily through their space. In doing so we had to fly a bit closer to clouds that technically allowed but given the alternative, we were happy to oblige.
On the Malaysian side, things went very smoothly, customs and immigration walked us through and then all that was left was a short hop to Nusa Jaya, the microlight field where we planned to hangar the planes. Sitting in the planes, waiting for ATC to give us taxi instructions must have been the longest 10 minutes of the trip. The path to Nusa Jaya was clear but to both sides massive storms were building and every minute that went by reduced the chances of an easy flight. We eventually got the clearance and didn't even wait until we were properly lined up before hitting the throttle and making a dash out. As we turned out a dark cloud that had been building over the runway let go a torrent of golf-ball sized raindrops that thoroughly soaked us and although the flight was only 15 minutes, we managed to pick up quite a bit of the rain that preceded the main storms. We landed at Nusa Jaya where Rick had the hangars open and taxied right in just as the rain set in. A chance to renew friendships and secure the trikes out of the show nature was putting on outside.
Footnote: At Nusa Jaya we got to meet Victor who sponsored our last stay in Johor Barhu. He very kindly offered us a lift into Singapore where we will spend the weekend, catching up on some paperwork. I managed to catch some kind of flu bug in Indo (Ricky thinks it was from eating the deep fried whole baby fish but I think it is more likely from the changes between freezing in the trikes and then sweating it out on the ground...) so today I chose to take it easy in the hotel room and catch up on admin.
Ricky disappeared and promised to return later with some food to help me recover. I'm thinking cheese burger or steak but what does he return with???? Tofu noodles!!!! Its bad enough I have to contend with his snoring but now he's obviously trying to convert me to his way of eating. The only thing that stopped him from getting a tofu noodle shower was the fruit shake which thankfully washed the taste away....
Alan
April 28 2004
Palembang
Indonesia
Hi from Ricky
Jakarta: We left Lido flying club very reluctantly as the hospitality was so welcoming and the resort so amazing. We could easily spend a week here discovering the place and doing all the activities. In the morning we got to our microlights and I noticed the one tyre look different and the side spat was clean. Slowly I realised that the club members had cleaned our microlights. Brlliant and tons of thanks to them. They have a club set up like we have never seen before. They are agents for three of the major trike manufacturers in the world and have a maintenance set up equaled only by an operating theater.
A bit of info for anyone flying through these areas. The Indonesian authorities are very supportive and encouraging ultralighting and general aviation. They will assist you flying in Indonesia through their association called FASI (Federal Aviation society of Indonesia). This society is supported by the defence force. Definitely get hold of them in the planning stages of your flight. Well what is your impression of Indonesia now?
We bid our farewells and flew over the many mansions and golf courses that surround Jakarta and headed to Palembang. It was an easy flight at 4500ft and only took about 4hr 30min. Chepy had made sure that they all knew we were on our way and once again we were dealt with like celebrities. This is great. I could adjust to this status. The immigration was unable to assist us until later the following day so we were advised to fly to and Indonesian island called Bantam, just South of Singapore.
We were then offered accommodation but opted to stay at the fire station again as it was practical for an early departure which was critical as Rick Miza in Malaysia had sent us warning messages that the thunder storms had been bad and regular everyday for a few weeks. Capt Siva had also moved mountains to sort out our flight clearance and we did not want to be delayed.
Take off was standard breathless and perfectly smooth conditions which lasted about one hour. The thunders storms that Rick had warn us about were out there waiting for us. As we headed out to sea they let rip. We flew through pouring rain then sunshine then howling winds and a few minutes later absolute calm winds. It was a nightmare of a flight, dodging rain, getting completely clouded in flying at 800ft off the water and then brilliant calm at 4000ft. It was difficult to sort out where and how high to fly. We arrived at Bantam 4hr 30min later. It is a big airport and we got formalities sorted out quickly and submitted the flight plan and got into our suites and ready to depart. The ATC stopped us from taxiing out because Singapore were reluctant to allow ultralights through their airspace. While we boiled in the heat we reassured them that we had transponders and would happily accept being vectored (where an ATC gives us specific directions to fly around their airpace) through the area and eventually they let us go.
It went perfectly except that we were vectored straight through massive storm clouds and inspite of flying like yoyo's we kept a pretty accurate route. It only took one hour to the Johor Bahru airport where it was more immigration, customs, atc fees, flight plan, exchange money, landing fees and navigation fees
While this was going on the skies outside were brewing up big storm clouds which were waiting for us to take off. We started up and requested taxi instructions only to be delayed and asked if we had paid this and then that and while they phoned each dept. to verify everything.
I started my Ricky tantrums and told them to look out of their windows to see the pending storm and carried on taxi to the runway without their approval and quickly we were given clearance to takeoff. Alan and I put full throttle while still turning onto the runway and wheel spun out of there just ahead of the storm. The rain still got us badly but we managed to out fly it and landed at Nusa Jaya a microlighting strip on the Malaysian side just North of Singapore. We had sms'ed Rick before take off and he had the hanger ready with doors open. We landed and taxied our little babies into the hanger out of the rain. At the hanger we met Victor who is assisting Rick in establishing a microlight school here. We will be here for a few days and will go across to Singapore and check it out.
Cheers
April 30 2004
Kuala Lumpur
Malaysia
Day 140 - April 30 - Nusa Jaya to Kuala Lumpur Its bad enough turning on the news and seeing that to our south, the Indonesians are redecorating Jakarta while to our north the Thai appear to be preparing a warm reception on the border... and then just to make our stay in Malaysia, the military here have put together an 11 day exercise involving anything that flies, moves or goes bang, thereby making it very interesting for us to get permission to get airborne... But it seems we still have a grain of luck on our side when Ricky calls up the main command center and manages to get one of the British team who not only assures us that our route to KL is unaffected for the day but is also fascinated by our trip and promises to visit the website.
Our flight turns out to be almost without incident. The only distraction was some rather heavy radio chatter we assumed was part of the military exercises but later turns out to be the search for a group of mountaineers that got stuck by lightening on Gunung Rajah, a 1 674 meter peak. The papers later reported that 2 climbers were killed and 22 injured - another reminder of what the weather here is capable of.
The last ten minutes into Subang had its share of weather in stall for us too. A heavy storm cell was dumping dark grey shafts of heavy rain right on the VFR airway in but after checking with ATC they were happy for us to route around it and stay slightly dry. We only just made it onto the ground and into the hangar before the edge of the storm passed overhead and gave the apron a good wash.
Not the most exciting day but with enough stresses to make a comfortable hotel lounge and a cold beer a very welcome sight. For those who are wondering about the intermittent updates and slow progress north, maybe a bit of explanation is in order: We were obviously lucky to pass Jakarta before the problems arose there but looking to our north, Thailand now has a few situations of its own. We have been checking the TV and papers as well as getting local opinion as to what is on the go and how we should proceed. It appears that anything that is going on is limited to the south and if we route via Phuket and then continue north, there shouldn't be any danger. Obviously it isn't an ideal situation but we have the endurance to easily avoid problems and if needs be, can remain far enough over sea to stay safe.
Of course this is just another drop of stress in the slowly filling bucket that is Vietnam, China and Russia. Our progress on clearances and the likes for these countries is frustratingly slow and another reason we are taking our time in places where we have resources on hand. We are receiving help from unexpected sources and hope to have at least some good news soon.
Alan
Ricky
May 3 2004
Technical Update
Since take off in Cape Town we have flown over 350 hours and to date have covered 35 500km. which is third of the expedition and is the equivalent distance to flying around the world. We are now in fourth position in the world record microlighting distances. Achieving the longest distance will be when we reach Alaska. That is still a huge amount of bureaucracy away.
The average speed is 100.4 km/hr and our normal airspeed is 86km/hr so we have had an average of 14km/hr tail wind. The maximum speed we have flown has been 215km/hr A typical days flying is about six to seven hours non-stop flying in a day achieving from 300 to 500 nautical miles.
The longest flying time in one day so far has been 11 hours and 15 min. with one landing in-between. One adjusts to these long flights and so does the bladder. Often these flights start in the dark and landing is in afternoon turbulence.
You may notice that when we get flying we can cover huge distances in a few days and that is because we set ourselves goals to cross a country or get to a destination by a certain date and we eat, drink and sleep that objective until it is achieved. Basically we take off on day one and fly the entire day with maybe one landing in the late morning. When we land the immediate objective is to refuel, flight plans, landing fees and then we pitch the tent next to the trikes so that we can take off at first light and this is repeated the next day. Three days of this and then we reward ourselves with the cheapest accommodation with running water. It is quite hard going, to do this for a week or two as the peripheral things get to you like not eating or drinking properly, frustrations with officials at airports and heat exhaustion etc.
We take a multi-vitamin called Vitathion which has kept us healthy. A big concern is malaria because we are unable to take any of the usual preventative drugs as it effects flying and also cannot be taken for long periods so it is mosquito repellant and nets every evening while in the tropics.
Under these conditions the flying stresses are huge. The weather is always a concern. We assess the weather ourselves and try to keep track of the local weather patterns and estimate the following day’s conditions. The weather bureaus have been helpful especially with crossings like the Timor Sea but it can be difficult to get information relevant to our type of flying from a met officer who can't speak English and only deals with jets flying at 36000ft.
We have been diligent with pre-flighting and so far nothing has occurred because of complacency. Bad fuel has caught us out a few times. An example of this is in Malaysia the best fuel to buy is Premium but in Indonesia Premium is the worst and how were we supposed to know until the engine starts spluttering over some remote area. This has happened a few times now and it is unbelievably frightening when the engine runs rough for a few seconds.
The worst weather we have had to deal with so far has been the massive dust storms and 30knot winds in the Kenyan desert. The route south through the Australian outback was the most violent turbulence with falls exceeding 1900ft per minute and climbs of 1000ft per minute with no power. The rain storms while heading East through Indonesia were huge but we were able to avoid most of them by flying out to sea. We have been caught out by cloud a few times which was very, very scary and both of us are now extremely weary of clouds. We have experienced way too many times how quickly things can get out of hand with the weather. The weather is basically our biggest limiting factor so we treat it with maximum respect. The next biggest limiting factor is my patience with bureaucrats.
The sail of the wings need to be tensioned up as the performance is reducing. We have been diligent about oil changes and replacing spark plugs and oil. One major technical issue that we have not mentioned is a carburetor falling off. This happened due to the rubber flange between the manifold and the carburetor breaking internally which is not visible externally. We have since fitted a bungi at the bottom of the carburetor to equalize the tension of a spring above the carburetor and so far it has lasted 150 hours which was more than the previous flanges.
The radios are temperamental and sometimes play up. Fortunately between us we have four radios. The Icom 200's needs some adjusting to compliment the microphones. Hopefully we will get hold of a radio technician along the way who can sort it out.
Ciao
Ricky.
May 5 2004
Kuala Lumpur
Hi From Ricky
Singapore was a great little touristy sojourn with the frustrations of seeing lots nice, got to have gizmos but no money or space to spare.
Monday morning we made our way to the bus station and across the border control to Malaysia. From there it was a taxi to Gelangpatha (Flying is a lot simpler) to meet up with Rick Miza, Capt Siva and Rani who had driven down Johor Bahru to meet us. We were then informed that as from midnight the Malaysian airspace had been closed to all general aviation due to military exercise. A few phone calls to the military control base and one flight plan later and the “International Microlighters” were on their way to Kuala Lumpur.
The weather was looking disastrous at take off. There was a massive thunderstorm cell building up a few kilometers ahead and on our track. Like most types of adventure flying one does not look at the weather as a deciding factor of whether or not we will fly but only as an indication of what we are about to face and will have to handle. After take off we headed slightly west of the cell and it held off with the rain long enough for us to make it to the coast where conditions are normally more docile. The coast was open and very smooth but when we moved even 200metres over land it got bumpy. The flight was at 1000 ft all the way. Things went smooth until the flight information controller kept referring to reporting points by the local names which were impossible to identify on the map due to the pronunciation. So things got a little strained with me begging her to stop referring to local names and she politely but very sternly asking me if I had a map and stopped just short of asking me if I could read at all.
We continued up the coast passed the main airport of Kuala Lumpur until we were due West of Subang airport which is North of KL International and then headed due East straight towards another massive down pour of rain. When it rains in these areas it is so hard that we can feel the rain hitting right through the souls of our shoes and we have to put our hands into the mitts (gloves permanently attached to the control bar) because it hurts so much. The Subang controller contacted us to say that the visibility was below 1000 meters. We let them know that we had the rain cell visible and would route around it. Instincts quickly set in and we identify emergency landing areas along the way and sometimes I mark them on the GPS incase we have to return to them in poor visibility. Fortunately we managed to skirt around the rain and landed when it had moved away from the airport. On the ground we taxied to the maintenance hanger where we were remembered from the previous visit and allowed to park the trikes inside the hanger. The hanger is so large that the microlights get lost amongst all the propping and scaffolding.
We were well received at the hotel and once again Rani had prearranged everything for us. Siva has been organizing us some maps and advising on the route through Vietnam, China and Russia our next big hurdles. As usual there are always things to stress about and right now it is about the unrest in the South of Thailand where we have to fly through. I have faxed the request for a flight clearance to them twice and no reply yet. The Vietnam clearance is going to and fro with request for info so hopefully it will be a positive response. In China we are trying to establish contacts and have possibly got the Datong flying club(West of Beijing) assisting with the translations and an invitation to China. China celebrates the May Day Workers Day holidays and it virtually closes down for a week so the process will need to wait until next week.
I am told by Execujet in South Africa who are doing the clearance application via an agent, Streamline Ops, for Russia, that the clearance for there is in the process and they cannot be “Rushed”. Well let’s hold thumbs.
Yesterday we worked on the microlights and changed oil and refueled etc. I have been having a problem with my oil level. We have glass sight tube which is connected to the sump plug outlet at the bottom of the oil tank which makes it very easy to check the oil level during the preflight. Mine has been erratic in that it shows no oil then later it is over filled and so on. I removed the glass tube and found it to be blocked with a small piece of broken rubber about 6mm in diameter, inside the pipe which can explain the symptoms. How it got there and where it is from is a concern. Tomorrow it is off to Langkawi where we will need to finalize the Thailand clearance and then further north.
Cheers
Ricky
May 5 2004
Langkawi
Malaysia
Hi From Ricky
We have arrived in Langkawi, a resort island at the North Western corner of Malaysia. Our flight clearance into Thailand is for the 8th of May (Hopefully as it is not approved yet.). After about twenty phone calls of getting through to wrong numbers and people who could not understand English I eventually got to speak to a delightful young lady who handles the clearances. She said it would be approved and emailed to me today.
We met up with Zainol, a microlight instructor here, who organised us some motorbikes and we are now going to be the speed kings down the beach front.
We flew out of Subang airport (Kuala Lumpur) at 8.15 and headed North straight into some rain. It did not last long and we had to divert around a few showers which all worked out OK. fortunately the wind was light. The military, who are having a huge exercise in the area, allowed us to fly through their zone which is at Butterworth. Siva had prepared us with all the routes and reporting points along the way so it all went very smoothly and hence they let us through. We will be zooting around here for two days until we head into Thailand. Ofcourse as usual before we enter a country their is some drama on the go. In Southern Thailand there is some unrest and nonsense going on so we have been advised to fly over the sea to Phuket.
There is no big unrest going on it is just the media seeking drama.
We are looking forward to getting some progress happening again soon.
Bye.
Ricky
May 6 2004
Langkawi
Malaysia
Day 143 - May 6 : Kuala Lumpur to Langkawi What really makes this trip special is the people we meet along the way who become a part of the experience. On the way down through KL we met up with Siva and Rani and now, on the way back, we got to spend some more time with them.
Siva is a 747 captain for Malaysian Airlines with many thousands of hours but who would rather be spending time down in Nusa Jaya, buzzing around the sky in a little Quicksilver ultralight or his own little Husky. Rani is an amazing organiser and pretty much runs EAA Chapter 1090 down here. Their obvious love of flying is impossible to miss and it seems that when we're not talking about flying, we're trying some new place to eat. That's another thing the Malaysians love... Their next big plan is a combined airshow / air race scheduled for August and judging by the enthusiasm and flying conditions around here, it promises to be a big success. But we have to move on and after one last late night of chatting and eating we say our farewells, knowing that another meeting, sometime in the future, goes without saying.
With the military exercises still in full swing, our progress up the coast is closely monitored but the ATC's seem well and truly on top of things so all that we have to deal with is a minor diversion or two and with the every-present haze, we don't even so much as see a fighter streaking off in the distance.
After three hours of cruising up the coast we get to Alo Star, the last town before Langkawi, from where we climb to 4 000 ft and sit back for what is thankfully a short 30 minute hop over to the island. The heavy rains from the past weeks has left the sea muddy and green so we don't have that same magical island view we had 6 weeks ago but its still an impressive sight, dropping below some low cloud and suddenly having the whole island laid out, Kauh, the main city, curved around the bay with the airport in the distance and Gunung Raya towering up in the middle like some silent guard.
All around the edges of the main island, hundreds of smaller islands break off and on the bigger ones resorts and fishing villages show signs of human life. We park our planes under the same palm trees and secure them for a day or two and head into the arrivals hall where air conditioning provides a welcome relief from the mid day heat. Our arrival doesn't get past Zainol, the local flying club chairman who makes sure once again that we have everything we could possibly hope for, including two rental scooters that we plan to explore the island with tomorrow.
Alan
May 8 2004
Hi from Ricky
Thank you for all the words of encouragement. Could you please give us some feed back and ask us some questions. Sometimes we feel like we are weirdo's and have lost the plot because from our perspective what we are doing is quite normal but we seem to get unusual responses to our behavior. Please post some responses on the message board that will put us back on track. Thank you
Ricky
May 9 2004
Answers to some questions. If you look on the message board you will see on the 9th May Maya asked some questions and true to my promise of answering questions here it is. What's the most spectacular thing you've seen to date?
Stacks of things. The Serengeti in Africa, the Himalayas in Nepal, the first fast food outlet since home which was in Oman, the coastlines of the Saudi peninsula, the coastline and islands of Thailand/ Malaysia and the first sight of the Australian coastline after flying for 8 hours across the sea.
What's the memory you most want to remember?
Seeing my daughter in Adelaide after a few hard months of travel.
If you could take one extra thing on the trike with you, what would it be?
A big bag of money and at times an in flight electric blanket.
What food do you miss the most?
A big plate of tuna pasta from Primi Piatti restaurant in South Africa
What's the worst thing you've eaten?
The food in Djibouti and the local food at the truck stop in Ethiopia.
Which country has the best beer outside SA?
Australia
How's the Russian visa going?
We are trying to get an answer but it seems that Russians do not like to be rushed.
Cheers
Ricky
May 8 2004
Phuket
Thailand
Day 145 - May 8 : Langkawi to Phuket Well if it isn't sweltering in the heat, its nearly drowning in the odd little down-pour that seems to mark the rainy season. Yesterday was a mixture of both. I got up early with the noble intentions of finding something for breakfast, only to get caught in the mother of all down-pours on the scooter. I returned, looking much like a cat that had been playing with a fire hose only to find Ricky sitting all dry and smug, wondering where breakfast was. I resisted the temptation of showing him and after about an hour of sitting around, the rain lifted and we got to explore the island.
Many hours and some very sore butts later we'd pretty much seen the place and returned to the room for an early night and a chance to catch up on some sleep.
8 am like clockwork we got a call from Zainol, telling us he would be around in ten minutes to pick us up and make sure we got off without a hitch. These Malaysian pilots really are the best. Our whole trip through here has been almost too easy. Between Rick in Johor, Siva and KL and Zainol in Langkawi, we have been treated like royalty and getting back into the real world is going to take some adjusting.
We managed to get everything done in virtually no time and got airborne just as a dark cloud seemed to build over to the south west. Fortunately we just caught a few drops and were off, heading north again and over the short ocean stretch to the coast and then on to Phuket.
Another uneventful two and a half hours flying, past the same stunning islands and rocky outcrops we'd seen on the way down and with the rainy season keeping things cool, we didn't even have so much as a thermal to contend with. By 1pm we were holding just short of the runway in Phuket while some big tin can came in to land. We touched down and once again negotiated our same parking spot, right next to the terminal and with some good tie-down blocks close at hand.
Today all we're doing is getting the planes ready for tomorrow and finding a place for an early night. Tomorrow we plan on doing a long leg, maybe as far as Rayong, from where we'll await our clearance into Cambodia. And in case you're wondering, Phuket is the last official back-track airport, from here on its new names, places and hopefully friendly faces.
Alan
May 8 2004
Phuket
Thailand
Hi’ya Doing
This morning we said our farewells to Zainol and the boys at Langkawi and took off at 10.30am. Alan’s small radio has given up the ghost and that was the only one that works on his trike so it was left to me to do the radio work on the ground. Bad move. He normally does the radio work on the ground because the small radio works better than the Icom 200’s in this situation. After take off or plus minus 5 nm out, it is my duty to do the radio work because his Icom 200 does not work on the lower frequencies due to some problem with the microphone in his helmet not being compatible. We have got used to this routine so I only bother waking up or paying attention once we are up and flying. This morning there was no wind and when I requested taxi clearance and the ATC gave us runway 03 which was perfect. As we turned onto the runway I realized we were pointing in the wrong direction and was too embarrassed to turn around so I just called saying we were ready on runway 21. He replied with a laugh in his voice and said we were cleared for take off and left it at that.
The weather was looking terrible to the South and sort of Ok to the north, in the direction of Phuket so we headed off. It rained lightly for a short while and improved the further North we flew. We flew across to the main land and followed the coast at 2500 ft most of the way. Lots of little islands with amazing beaches and million dollar yachts anchored just off shores of most of them.
The crossing from the main land to Phuket Island took about 1 hour across several such islands. The ATC at Phuket took a while and several questions about ETA’s (Estimated Time of Arrival) and DME’s (Distance from the runway) to figure out that those funny slow flying scooters were back. He asked us to fly due west and position ourselves to approach the runway directly from the South as it would put us out of the way of the approaching and departing traffic which fly in on the East/West directions. Later he asked us to report “runway in sight”. There was so much cloud around that we would only see the runway when we were virtually on top of it so we descended below 1500 ft and flew around some mountains and popped out in front of the tower much to his surprise. They are not used to the operating parameters of these contraptions and don’t realize that we can remain in an area of 100m diameter. He quickly told us that there was an aircraft on approach and for us to orbit. We replied with, “Delta Echo Kilo and Delta Echo Juliet will orbit next to the tower until you can accommodate us”. The aircraft landed and he told us to turn onto final. We then flew, close, across the window of the tower, waved at him, turned onto final and landed.
Once parked it was the “lovely bureaucracy” time. We tied the wings level, left everything hanging on the trikes and walked to the airport building where every door was locked and eventually at the extreme end of the building there was a door for the baggage workers which was open. The problem with these big airports is that passengers get onto the aircraft through extension chutes directly into the aircraft at about the second floor level and workmen are locked out onto the apron and can only exit via security points where they will not let us through. Basically we are left with having to virtually climb gutter down pipes to get into the airport buildings or wrestle with security guards who resemble gorillas and have a similar understanding of the English language. Catch 22 or what?
Eventually we negotiated our way in and presented ourselves to immigration for processing. (Do what ever you have to us and get it over with). They turned out to be really pleasant and friendly like most Thai people normally are. We had to pay some fee but did not have Thai Baht so I had to slip out to change money and return without creating too much fuss. From there it was customs that took one look at us and choose to rather not have anything to do with such sweaty smelly low lives and ushered us on our way with a smile. From there it was to the airport control office to fill in piles of papers about where we come from (Tempting to write, “our mothers”) and when we were given birth to etc.
Next it was off to the briefing office to submit a flight plan for tomorrow’s flight to Hau Hin and then back down to security to try the simple exercise of getting back to the trikes. We were escorted with security guards to the trikes and along the way managed to explain that we had to buy petrol. “No not Avgas. No not Jet fuel. Petrol, Motor car fuel, premium, gasoline, Benzene…..” “Ah! Benzene!” Bingo! We hit the right word describing motor car fuel in the Thailand. It took some coercing and negotiating to get him to take us to the petrol station but he relented and agreed. We thought it best to let him take us once before we let him know that we actually needed to do it twice because tomorrow’s flight is an 8 hour flight. He was quite accommodating and soon we had the trikes filled and then our bags in his pickup and off we went to find food and accommodation.
The Thai airports have the most beautiful and delightful ladies at their tourist information desk, so helpless and lost little us had to ask for assistance which was very useful as we are now at a very cheap and nice accommodation facility called Nat Yang House which is +- 2 km from the airport. We negotiated a lift to the airport for tomorrow morning at 5.30am to be included in the price of the room which is a big bonus. Getting to the airports early is always a big hassle and hence we normally try and sleep at airports when we are going to be leaving early the next morning. Now it is off to try and find an internet that can take our card readers to down load this message and also to follow up on the Cambodian, Vietnam, Chinese and Russian flight clearances. From there it is grub and into the cot until tomorrow and who knows what will happen tomorrow. One thing is for sure it will not be a mundane routine day because it never is.
Ciao
Ricky
May 9 2004
Pattaya
Thailand
Day 146 - May 9 : Phuket to Pattaya Well, if the past six weeks has been a minor dog leg then today certainly got us back on track in style. The morning started at the required 5am and the hotel manager was waiting outside at 5:30am with the lift to the airport, as promised. Spending time in Phuket out of season really shows a different side to the place. With business scares and very few tourists, firstly the harassed feeling we had on our earlier visit just wasn't there and secondly, the restaurant and hotel owners will do anything for business, so prices are low and service is even better than normal.
Last night's search for internet started with a few sundowners, and with the tropical sunset through the palm trees of Nai Yang Beach, we were obliged to have more than just one beer, and then a very tasty pizza and another beer and finally, some time after 9:30pm we eventually found an internet cafe and another beer, so anyone who got mail last night, please excuse spelling, content and general tone...
Arriving at the airport, we were treated to the usual pile of neatly prepared forms that needed processing but the movement of gracious Thai ladies past the office made the process almost painless and watching Ricky still trying to find that perfect wife added much humour to the whole event.
By 7 am we were at the trikes, Ricky still single but trying, and without too much fuss got airborne and treated to an amazing sunrise over the thousand or more islands that dot the coast. Inland small valleys were just starting to be revealed under wispy bits of fog and the hazy, mottled sunlight gave the surroundings that mystical feel, almost as if a dragon swooping out from behind one of the cliffs wouldn't be out of place.
Fortunately we were spared the dragons which might have made us question the beers from the night before and with a fresh tailwind we were soon over on the eastern side of the peninsula, passing Surat Thani, Chumphon and heading for Hau Hin. Our progress was so good in fact that with 30 minutes to go to Hau Hin, we still had plenty of fuel left and requested a routing direct to Rayong, thereby saving a day's flying and the associated landing and other fees.
Hau Hin obliged without any problems and after the last hour of sea crossing that we will see for a while, we were safely lining up for U Taphao International, amazed at the military hardware, old and new, that littered the apron. On the ground the fun began again. What many ground controllers don't understand is that from our seats, just inches off the ground, we can't read the parking letters designed to be read from the flight deck of a 747 so often our search for the right parking bay must look like a scene from a slap-stick movie. Today was no exception - eventually the controller resorted to simple left-right instructions and got us to the right spot like two giant remote control cars. The right spot was about as far from the terminal as humanly possible so after sorting things out, we were in for a walk.
Before leaving the planes, however, we decided to try to fill up with fuel and while I negotiated with the guards to use the closest gate, Ricky somehow convinced the jet refuelers to drive him to the filling station. Actually by the look on their faces they didn't quite know what we needed but with some gentle explanations and profuse hand-signals, within 20 minutes we had a full load of fuel. All set for our next leg into Cambodia.
U Taphao is about 45 minutes from Pattaya and on a Sunday afternoon the only option into town is a taxi. We found a willing off-duty naval officer who doubled as a weekend taxi and soon enough were in town, wondering the maze of strip clubs, cheap bars and 24/7 street side vendors in search of somewhere Ricky might continue his search for a wife from. We found it in the form of a very comfortable hotel, just off the main neon strip and will now settle in for at least two days while we await the clearance Cambodia. Looking out the window things look very interesting so in the interest of accurate reporting, we'll probably head out just now, sample some local beer and see if that allusive wife is somewhere in the crowd.
Alan
Leaving Phuket to the North
May 9 2004
Pattaya
Thailand
Farewell to Phuket.
We were up at 5am and true to his word the proprietor of the guest house took us to the airport at that early hour. At the airport it was more paper work, parking fees, landing fees and so on. We took off on time at 7pm in good weather and flew across beautiful islands scattered along the coast towards an airport called Surat Thani which was the first turn point on route G458.
A basic non-technical and non-aviation explanation on the routings and flight paths we have to follow. In a lot of countries they insist that we follow specific routes which are shown on Jepperson enroute Charts. Reasons range from safety and security of foreign aircraft in their airspace to they don’t know any other way of processing the flight plans. Basically it is practical to stick to these routes because they have been planned to avoid restricted areas and the air traffic controllers, whose English may be limited, can give regular and simple instructions which keeps life simple for all concerned.
It works similar to a route map for some bus or subway service. You can only travel along a specified route and if you want to get to some other destination other than the ones on the direct line you will have to change buses or trains at a station which intersects another route that will then get you to the final destination. All the stations along the way are called ‘reporting points’ on these enroute charts.
Each route is labeled with a route name such as G458 and it will direct one to a reporting point or intersection with other routes. These reporting points are either over head an airport or may be a specified fictitious point in mid air.
Our route today took us to Surat Thani (an airport), then Chumphon (an airport), Ukera (a mid-air reporting point) and on to Hua Hin our original destination.
The weather was favorable and things were going well so along the way we called the approach controller at Hau Hin and requested to amend our flight plan to route to Rayon instead of Hua Hin. We were over a reporting point so it was simple for them to reroute us and accommodate the change. We headed out to sea and closer to Rayon the controller vectored us around a restricted area and in towards the airport.
Vectoring is when a controller asks you for your position and then they instruct you to follow a specific heading for a certain distance and then turn on another heading for another distance and then directly toward the airport. They are able to position you as accurately as you fly to their instructions. It is easy to do this with today’s GPS’s but it must have been a nightmare in them ‘old days’ of maps, protractors and compasses. Especially if you were flying an open cockpit trike where everything would blow away through the prop.
With all these technicalities we made it to Rayon in 5 hours and 40 minutes. This is an average flight which was about 350 Nautical Miles. The flight was between 2500 feet to 4000ft which we have found to be the optimum operating altitudes for these 912 Rotax engines. The air temperature at that altitude is also very pleasant at about 25 degrees C. The engines maintain the water temperature at 80 degrees C, oil temp. at 95 degrees C, exhaust gas temp. 720 degrees C and the fuel consumption starts at 13.5 litres per hour and reduces to the upper 12 L/min. as the fuel load lessens progressively with the flight. I am a bit concerned about the oil consumption on my engine and am monitoring it closely since finding a bit of rubber stuck in the inspection glass.
Rayon airport is a joint civilian and military airport so there are lots of military hardware and soldiers around the airport. This has a positive side of being assured that the trikes are well guarded. They are parked out in the open on the apron about a kilometer away from the airport building which is a pain to have to walk so far with baggage. The ground controllers normally instruct us to park far away from any aircraft movement so the trikes do not get blown away by the jet blast of the big aircraft movements.
We always tie the trikes with the wings level and the tips and nose tied down firmly to heavy weights. We also carry normal tent pegs which we nail into the ground when necessary. We also carry a cover for the undercarriage of the trikes which covers the instrument pod, seats and engine. It is not ideal to leave them standing outside because everything is exposed and fragile on a trike. Wherever we can we try to get them into a hanger because of the Ultra violet effects on the material of the wings. We choose to have white wings because they are least affected by the UV rays.
The trikes have been refueled, thanks to the assistance of the Non-English speaking aircraft fuel attendant who took me to the petrol station with our 25 litre containers.
We then got a lift to Pattaya town with a local who works at the airport and uses his pick-up as a taxi at reduced prices. (Anything not to uses taxi’s).
We have checked into an ‘el-cheapo rent-a-room’ in the centre of all the brothels and ping-pong shows. This promises to be an interesting stopover.
Now it is off to the internet to follow up on clearances etc.
Cheers.
Ricky
May 10 2004
Pattaya
Thailand
Thanks for the questions, Maya. Hopefully these will give a bit of a better view into the minds of someone normal enough to fly a microlight around the world. Anyone else with questions, please feel free to ask.
What's the most spectacular thing you've seen to date?
That's a hard one. On an emotional level, probably watching Djibouti disappear into the morning mist, knowing we had our clearance into Yemen and a chance at making it to Asia. But one of the most memorable days in total must be the day we flew from Moshi to Mtwara. From the point of seeing so much in one day, for me that still takes the cake. Taking off at dawn in the shadow of Kilimanjaro, climbing up to 11 000ft and getting the most spectacular view of Eldunya Langai (still don't know how to spell that!), the active volcano west of Kili and then just cruising, first across the edge of the Ngorogoro Crater and then over the Serengeti, amazed at the volume and diversity of wild life and then just to top the day off, getting to land right on the banks of Lake Victoria. There might be a bit of bias towards Africa here but if I ask myself which day I would like to fly again, that is the one that stands head and shoulders above the rest.
What's the memory you most want to remember?
The day described above is the visual memory I'd like to hang onto but over the past 5 months there have been so many instances that have stood out on different levels that its really hard to isolate just one. The over riding memory that I know will stay is that of the people we have met and the way each and every one has re-instilled a sense of faith in humanity. In a world that seems to be going more and more crazy by the day, the average person on the street, whether a carpet maker in Karachi or a pilot from Darwin, just wants the best for their family and a chance at a happy life. I think if everyone could remember that, life on this planet would be far better.
If you could take one extra thing on the trike with you, what would it be?
If we're not talking about a girlfriend, then I'd have to say a very large, comfortable chair, one of those with the foot-rest that swings up and while we're fantasizing, why not make it the massaging variety. That would certainly make 8 hour ocean crossings more bearable. In fact a small DVD player wouldn't be wasted either....
What food do you miss the most, and what's the worst thing you've eaten?
The kind you can just walk up to the fridge and find. Food, especially in countries where there is a language difference, is always a bit of a gamble. The luxury of having a stocked fridge is something I'll never take for granted again. On the worse food front, its very hard to say. Some of the worst looking food (a bag of noodle-like soup stuff) often turns out to taste great. The canned food in Calcutta that resulted in food poisoning probably takes the cake but then again some fast food outlets (no names mentioned) deliver the same universally cardboard-like processed garbage with remarkable consistency.
Which country has the best beer outside SA?
That would have to be Australia at this point. Everywhere in the world you can by the same mass produced, processed stuff but in Australia there are some really great local beers that are served in equally great pubs. Australia also has the most comfortable park benches something that can be discovered after doing extensive research into beer quality.
How's the Russian visa going?
As the Russians are happy to point out 'These things take time...'
Alan
May 12 2004
Siem Riep
Cambodia
Hi From Ricky
We are in Siem Riep but were not too warmly received by the authorities. As it pans out our flight clearance was not approved and jail accommodation was in the offering. Now to get someone to make a decision is going to be an uphill battle. I have already burnt one hole in the phone today trying to get it sorted out. Let us see what tomorrow holds for us.
Vietnam is ready.
Cheers
Ricky
Ankor Wat ruins, Siem Riep Cambodia
May 13 2004
Siem Riep
Cambodia
Hi Everybody
Today was one of those typical stress/emotional seesaws. Last night was fairly sleepless stressing about the clearance drama in Cambodia and this morning we went to the airport manager and apologized profusely and asked for his assistance. At the civil aviation we also apologized and were asked to write letters. By the end of the day everybody was moving mountains for us and we got the clearance to fly to Vietnam tomorrow. Jackpot!
In between this we were chauffeured around in a tuk-tuk to Angor Wat and all the surrounding temples. It was fascinating and definitely worth the effort. The enormity and details of the temples was something to admire. As another tourist mentioned, "This beats going to see the Pyramids".
Later in the day we got a message to phone the South African embassy in Moscow.
We were also given the news that China is looking at our clearance request positively and wanted some more details. BIG BINGO!
The trikes are refueled and ready to fly to the next country, Vietnam.
This evening was spent writing a message from South Africa and this web address all over a restaurant wall. No! We were not under the influence of anything strange, it was at the request from the proprietor. Later we landed up doing a talk at an annual dinner of a development corporation in Cambodia. I might just add that judging by their questions they enjoyed it.
Cheers
Ricky
May 15 2004
Hanoi
Vietnam
Day 152 - May 15 Da Nang to Hanoi If you have read up on any other flights around the world that have passed through Vietnam, you'll probably find reference to the ridiculously high fees they manage to charge. Well, this we can confirm. We arrived at the airport two hours early to give us time to get the aircraft ready and still have a chance to contest anything out of the ordinary.
The lady we'd met at the briefing office last night was there again this morning and with her was a team of about eight fellow workers. Obviously they were used to the reaction of foreign pilots when they hand out the bills. I won't go into the exact numbers but for instance, the 'follow-me' car that was neither requested nor needed and lead us all of 100 meters from the runway to the apron cost $65 each - that's a total of $130 for a grand total of 200 meters driving and maybe 1 minute's work! In total the bill came to the equivalent of what Ricky and I will live on for well over a month and no amount of bargaining, pleading or rational discussion got us anywhere.
After more than an hour and humorous phone calls to anyone we thought might help, we finally had to concede and hand over the cash. What also makes it difficult is that the Vietnamese seem to remain so calm and friendly that its impossible to get upset with them, especially the ladies...
Walking back to the planes, much lighter in the pockets, we calculated that we had just paid for one landing what the average microlighter in South Africa probably spends on his flying for a year or more. Not a nice way to start the day.
At least from then on things could only get better. We took off as usual but with very strict conditions on our permit, and under a very watchful eye of the controllers, we were guided away from whatever it was to the west we weren't allowed to see and had to climb to our allotted 9 000 ft where we would be 'safe'. Another condition allowing us to fly through here is that we don't take any photo's from the air. I can't imagine why this is because if there are any huge state secrets out there, they keep them very well hidden.
Our route took us up along the coast, where almost every inch was inhabited. The beaches are full of the usual mix of little fishing boats and small harbours where constant activity suggests quite a strong dependence on the sea while inland, on every bit of flat land, rice paddies run off as far as the eye can see in a patchwork of greens and browns. The only distraction we have is the constant queries from the ATC's, checking our altitude, position and estimates for reporting points. It is clear that despite the people's friendly and helpful nature, the country is still run under very strict conditions and anything out of the ordinary is viewed with extreme suspicion.
Reaching Hanoi, we're routed a bit out to the west while some large planes land and are then finally routed onto finals. A short distance out I call up the tower and inform them that we know the runway layout and can find our way around without the 'follow-me' car. Surprisingly they confirm we can do without one and as we taxi off, the two cars are standing off to one side, obviously just waiting for us to get lost so they can dive into our pockets.
We manage to find the parking bay (probably to their horror) but leaving the trikes in the middle of the apron exposed to the wind and jet blast of dozens of planes will most certainly be the end of the trip so we ask the person who seems to be in charge of ground movements if we can park off to the side of the apron.
What follows would make a great scene for a comedy. No one seems willing or able to make a decision and our message gets carried backwards and forwards from one officially dressed person to the next, like some bucket of toxic waste no one wants on their table. Eventually, after almost an hour and with both Ricky and myself getting somewhat ratty from a long day and no food, we simply start to push the planes to a suitable spot and tie them down.
One of the officials who's nose seemed out of joint by our refusal of the follow-me car, came striding over and looked about ready to call in the military but fortunately a younger member of the officialdom intervened and suggested we sign a letter taking responsibility for the way the aircraft were parked and leave it at that. This seemed reasonable enough but once we had the planes secured, the elderly gentleman arrived again, this time followed by a fork-lift truck carrying two massive tie-down blocks - each probably weighing twice what our planes weigh, and insisting that they had to be used to provide additional security. I wonder what that little lot will cost us...
We left the trikes, happy with their location and followed the younger gentleman, who had studied in New Zealand and had a fair grasp of English, to his office and quickly hand wrote a letter that we both signed. Handing it to them seemed to smooth everything over and it was suggested we could then get on with life. Outside a bus arrived to take us back to the terminal. I wonder what that will cost us....
In the terminal as we found a tourist info center where, what was obviously a taxi driver came up and introduced himself. Our usual taxi-driver hostility was met by a simple smile and an explanation of what he would charge and how things worked. With town nearly 35km away and his rates not bad at all (and in writing) we agreed to use his services and were soon being scared senseless through the Vietnamese traffic.
The traffic here is probably just as bad as a dozen other countries we've been through but maybe because we're on the other side of the road (mostly) it seems more daunting. The incredible thing to see is the way motorcycles are used. Everyone gets about on scooters and when the family of three, four or even sometimes five needs to get somewhere, they simply all pile onto the same scooter and goodness knows how, make it through the traffic. In amongst the chaos you'll even see building supplies, whole piles of groceries and believe it or not, live-stock being ferried around. The live-stock, and especially pigs, are the funniest - two or three woven barrels are strapped onto the back of a bike and the pigs are loaded in, the number per barrel decided on by the size of the pigs. A large sow might get an entire barrel to herself while half a dozen piglets will all get shoved in together. This whole lot will then join the mayhem as what is obviously the norm.
We managed to find an acceptable hotel and assuming we might be here for a few days while we finalise the Chinese permission, negotiated a slightly better rate and found ourselves a very fancy restaurant with prices that we might pay for junk food back home. Once back at the hotel we took a couple of hours to go through the proposed Chinese route with a fine-tooth comb and ensure that every little detail was correct before mailing it back to the South African Embassy in Beijing for (hopefully) final submission.
Alan
May 16 2004
Hanoi
Vietnam
Day 153 - May 16 Hanoi After what happens to be exactly five months on the road, you'd think we might have got to the place where we've seen it all and seldom get taken aback by anything that comes our way but spending a day walking around Hanoi, trying to get a feel for the place and its people, shows just how vast and varied this world really is. For us to try and understand their world would be as alien as for them trying to understand ours.
Its starts right from the architecture. The first thing we notice, before even landing, is the strange form the houses take on. Instead of a traditional house as we might imagine, they look more like a domino standing on end. Some houses are only eight or ten feet wide and maybe 30 meters deep but all extend to at least four and sometimes even six stories high. This seemed really bizarre until we got to sit down last night and chat to the lady that manages our hotel. We got to talking about travel and seeing the world and asked if she'd ever traveled. Her answer, that her family wouldn't allow it, at first seemed naive but as we chatted more, her explanation drew a much clearer picture of Vietnamese life and helped explain much of what we've seen around us.
The family isn't just parents and young children. The entire family, from great grandparents to great grand children will all live under one roof. Young people, especially girls, will stay with their parents until they are married, something that should be done at the latest by the age of thirty and even sons tend to stay at home until they have found a wife. Any decision gets made by the entire extended family. If a child wishes to study, everyone in the house will have a say in the matter and often neighbours will even be consulted. For a child to remain unmarried is a huge disappointment, bordering on disgrace for the family and any child that produces a male off-spring assumes a higher rank within the family.
This goes a long way to explain the architecture but the houses themselves also contribute to the amazing sense of community. Almost all houses have a ground floor that contains the family business. Every street is alive with activity and as you walk down the street you pass everything from barber shops to internet cafes, informal restaurants to motorcycle workshops. Everyone has something to do and even though today was Sunday, the level of activity was almost hypnotic.
What really lets you know you're here is the older folk, still wearing their traditional pointed grass hats that not only provide shelter from the sun but also double as baskets and measuring devices when needed. The attention to detail in amongst the rush also stands out. I watched in a amazement as one of the army of street vendors set up shop. 'Shop' happened to be a bicycle, two large straw baskets and two bags, one full of mangoes and the other full of bundles of green beans. She carefully stood the bicycle on its stand, balanced the baskets on the bike frame and then proceeded to place the mangoes and beans, one at a time, onto the baskets. Everyone in its exact place, resulting in an amazing display. Whenever anyone bought anything, she's reach into the bags and once again replace whatever had been taken with the same care and precision. The whole process left me wondering just how long she'd been doing this.
With the children off school, the streets were even more crowded that usual but what never fails to amaze is the way that through the absolute chaos that passes for traffic, no one seems to get upset and everything just merges into some sort of strange harmonic anarchy.
With our morning task of getting to the internet and printing out some documents complete, we headed for the airport to refuel and hopefully do some work on the trikes. Despite our bitter complaining about the fees, the guys at the airport are in truth very helpful, if somewhat slowed by their constant discussions and negotiations about each problem that arises. And apparently foreign trikes provide a whole bucket of problems.
Our timing was also rather lucky because as we arrived at the trikes a massive storm broke overhead and we had our hands full making sure they stayed firmly attached to their moorings. Those big blocks the officials dropped of yesterday? - not such a bad idea! After an hour and a half and having been completely soaked, we made for the cover of the arrivals hall, with our appointed security guard finally cracking a smile as dashed the last hundred yards, trying to avoid another heavy downpour - not that it would really have made a difference.
We decided to take the scenic and cheap route back and headed for the local bus stop where the equivalent of about 20c got us a seat on a bus that I think the French abandoned here. Inside it was well maintained but clearly the suspension had seen better days, with each bump resulting in a roller-coaster ride like a dingy in rough water.
What we got for our money though, was the best tour of the city imaginable. An hour and a half through pouring rain with scooters and taxis dodging and hooting in a nauseating swarm of humanity. The rain made the roads even more crazy than usual and to sit at the back and watch the driver using both sides of the road with on-coming traffic being left to their own devices, made for a few interesting moments.
The life out of the center of town is much the same as that in the center. There might be slightly more space but the houses and their occupants are just the same and apart from some of the industry being slightly heavier, everyone seems just as preoccupied with keeping busy.
We eventually arrived back at the main bus terminal and with little idea of exactly where our hotel was, we relented and decided to take to scooter taxis up on the offer of getting us there. Having seen the way these guys drive, this might not have been a sane move but given the alternate of wondering around in the rain for who knows how long, it seemed like a fair enough idea...
Oh boy! Our first instruction was that our two drivers had to stay together (memories of our separation in Patna still fresh in the memory) and as an added incentive I informed my driver that Ricky had all the money and if he wanted to be paid, he'd have to keep us together. His response was to hit the accelerator and cut straight in front of a truck. I took that as my cue to shut up and enjoy the ride.
Actually once you are in the traffic and have made piece with your maker, things really aren't that bad - just so long as you don't look forward! Out to the sides it never fails to amaze me what they manage to load on these scooters. As we wove through the streets, we caught up to one where the passenger was carrying a sheet of glass that must have measured over two square meters. I couldn't be sure if they were delivering it or just carrying to so the passenger could stay dry.
By the time we got back to our hotel we were both soaked to the bone and no doubt a little mentally altered from the ride on the scooters. Ricky paid them gratefully, mostly I guess because we both made it through alive and now we're off again to find something to eat. This to me is always a fun time because Ricky is rather a particular eater and the mere suggestion that what we're eating might not be beef always brings a grimace to his face. As he picked out a few fatty pieces of meat from his noodles the other evening, I also had to point out that fatty meat was a good sign because most of the dogs we've seen are really skinny. Bon apetit!
Alan
May 17 2004
Hanoi
Vietnam
Hi from Ricky
All well in raining Hanoi. Today was spent on getting some desperately need loose ends sorted out which included me having a haircut on the side of the road. The barber attended to every single follicle from my shoulders up. It was a great experience to sit there looking at all the millions of scooters and old fashioned bicycles passing with the women wearing their round pyramid straw hats. Some people carry baskets of fruits and goodies, suspended on each end of a bamboo pole, across their shoulders. It gave me time to relax and enjoy the moment and realize that we are actually in Vietnam. It is such a huge sense of achievement to be here. I recalled sitting at home planning and organizing this trip and how it was a far and strange destination that seemed an impossibility and now we are actually here. All it took to get here was to start flying, do small bits at a time, believe you can make it and keep flying.
OK! I will come back from dream land. Let me write another story that has happened recently in the background between Alan and I. I think I am now calm enough to discuss it.
When we landed in Siem Riep in Cambodia without the necessary permission and were confronted by a room full of angry, questioning authorities, I tried my best to stay cool as we were hopelessly in the wrong and had to eat humble pie and diffuse the situation. It got very tense as I was sure that we had a clearance but they would not let me use the phone to try and get clarity on the situation and so it went on. I was at the end of my tether and then noticed Alan quietly sitting on the side with his arms semi-folded, holding a pen to his mouth and not saying a word. I turned to him and said, "come on Alan help me here".
He looked at me and calmly took the pen away from his mouth and said, "Why bark if you have got a dog?" Meaning that why should he say anything if he had me to say it.
That was the closest him and I came to having a fist fight and now that the situation is past, I can see the humor in it but he can certainly pick his moments.
Ciao
Ricky
May 18 2004
Hanoi
Vietnam
Day 155 - May 18 Hanoi Unlike other times when delays and waiting for clearances have been frustrating and impacted negatively on our moods, Hanoi has fascinated and entertained with such contagious energy that a few days here seem to be doing us the world of good. Add to this the fact that a little hurricane about 250 km to the south is pushing in a considerable amount of rain and cloud and making staying on the ground a good option.
Our time here hasn't been wasted either. We managed to make contact with the South African Embassy where the staff invited us over for an informal meeting, some lunch and a chance to hijack the 2010 World Cup press conference. The result of which meant a trip to the airport to do a TV interview and some very good coverage for South Africa on the main news bulletin.
Getting to the planes and still finding them in one piece after the storm of a few nights back was also something of a relief. Much time has also been spent checking backwards and forwards with the Chinese Embassy, sending answers to the numerous questions and just generally holding thumbs that we get the go ahead sooner than later.
Sleeping late certainly isn't an option. By first light the traffic starts and as the hooter seems to be the preferred means of propulsion, the cacophony that emanates from the street can be quite unbelievable.
Today our official clearance for Vietnam also expires and as we haven't heard anything from the Chinese, we'll still be here tomorrow and have to re-apply. Having spoken to the airport's authority though, it doesn't sound like we'll have too much trouble and the guys up here have actually been very helpful.
Tonight we'll catch up with a bit more admin, head up the street for a quiet meal and then have an early night, and hopefully wake to some good news from China....
Alan
May 19 2004
Hanoi
Vietnam
Hi from Ricky
We are still in Hanoi waiting for the Chinese flight clearance. It may take a few more days but even if it was approved we would have struggled to fly in the bad weather that is going on here at the moment.
Hanoi has been a really interesting stopover. We have walked all over the city centre and know our way around quite well. Most of the buildings are three to five stories high and extremely narrow. They range from 2.4m wide and five stories high to about 6m wide and just as high. All of them are shops at the bottom and living quarters above. The types of shops seem to be the same or similar in each street. One street will be sunglasses, another clothes, another bamboo sales, another welding, another upholstery etc. Things are really cheap but one has to continuously bargain for better prices. The culinary tastes are a little difficult to adjust to. You can find anything from pickled lizards and birds to fried beetles and funny gorgers. We understand that dog meat is widely available too. We saw a man walking with a dog on a leash and wondered if it was his pet or if it was take away food.
Last night we went to an out of the way pub and by absolute chance two other South Africans came in and recognized our accents and started chatting. They were here on business.
“Ons manne het lekker gekuier”. (Afrikaans for “Us guys had a great party).
Yesterday we did a TV and newspaper interviews and were on the main TV news in the evening doing our bit to promote South Africa. The South African Ambassador here in Hanoi, Elizabeth Erasmus and her staff are making sure we are well looked after. We have given them the standard warning that we are like stray cats. If they feed us we will stay.
For now it is ciao.
Ricky
May 20 2004
Hanoi
Vietnam
Hallo Hanoi
Alls well out here in Nam. We tried to do our tourist things of going to the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum but found huge crowds hundreds of meters long out side so we gave it a side step. All the interest is because yesterday was a big celebration day in memory of Ho Chi Minh. We tried to find another venue of interest but they were all too far away and would affect our daily lunch appointment with the South African Embassy so we choose to visit the Museum of fine Art. Yes! Ricky in the MUSEUM OF FINE ART. We have been very good at disguising our deep interest in these cultural matters but we just could no longer resist the experience. My comments on the museum is that the art is fine.
From there it was off to a great lunch and now we are strolling around the streets arranging to go and visit Ha Long Bay tomorrow. An area in the North where there are many interesting islands and the tour involves going to some of the caves under the islands.
Chat again later
Ricky
May 19 2004
Hanoi
Vietnam
Day 156 - May 19 Hungover in Hanoi Remember that quiet meal and early night? Well the meal started out quiet enough and all was looking good until, just as our main (and only) course arrived, the unmistakable sounds of a South African accent came drifting across the room, 'You guys are far from home, hey!'
Of the twenty thousand places to eat probably the only two groups of South Africans in a city of 8 million people choose the same one and end up at adjacent tables. While contemplating the odds of this, we did the usual introductions, checked where everyone was from and proceeded to have a couple of beers.
Our new friends (who's names will be withheld to protect the innocent) proceeded to ensure that the rest of our evening was anything but quiet or early. Far too many beers and a couple of scotches later, Ricky and I we're trying to figure out how to duck out the back of the hotel, thereby avoiding any more beer and the advances of half a dozen ladies who'd probably be disappointed if they knew they weren't in our budget...
We somehow managed to find a taxi and apparently during the course of the evening had learned to speak fluent Vietnamese because the driver had us at the front door of our hotel in no time at all. (the actual reason for this would become apparent later!)
The difficulty of climbing the stairs to our room was equaled by the challenge of getting the key in the lock but what lay behind the door turned out to be slightly less than the warm bed we'd been hoping for. Seems the persistent rain had dammed up a bit on the roof and found a convenient release right through the ceiling of our room. Everything within six inches of the floor as well as both beds were soaked through but fortunately our bags and computers had been safely stowed on some chairs and survived bone dry.
The poor night watchman who had had his sleep rudely interrupted when we stumbled through the reception door seemed less than impressed to be dragged up to see the mess and even less impressed having to organise keys for a new room, towels to stop the flood and who knows what else, each entailing a trip up and down the five flights of stairs. We on the other hand simply dragged our bags across the hall and passed out in our new, and much nicer room, complete with view of the city.
Dawn broke as it always does after one too many beers - far too early and far too noisy. The new room not only had a very nice view but also better acoustics from the road. What followed was a very slow morning. Ricky chose a quiet seat in front of the computer and a chance to catch up on mail while I decided to attack the hangover with a walk around to get some photocopying and printing done.
Neither approach seemed to be particularly effective and only after a big Italian lunch did life start to feel better. On the way back to our hotel we got a call from another reporter wanting to do an interview, a distant second choice to the sleep we were hoping to get but with that out the way we headed back to our room, hoping to complete the recovery process.
On reaching the room and taking the first really good look out the window, could I point out to Ricky how the taxi driver had done so well last night. The hotel that we had finished the night at was clearly visible, not 200m up the road!
On a serious note, the Chinese have still not given the go-ahead and the weather outside is still grey and threatening. Hanoi still echoes to the sounds of hooters and for the next two days at least, it will remain home.
Alan
May 22 2004
Hanoi
Vietnam
Day 159 - May 22 Tourists in Hanoi...still So what do two boys, a very long way from home and no closer to getting into China do to pass the time? Well apart from the constant efforts to motivate our clearance and writing these updates, we have been left with some time to kill. Last night was particularly special.
Picture the scene: A crowded bar in downtown Hanoi, surrounded by most of the cities foreign diplomats, sipping Carlsberg draught and listening to a band, made up almost exclusively of various consular staff, playing Pink Floyd's The Wall... And how did this surreal scene come into being?
Elizabeth from the South African Embassy and her husband had invited us to dinner and like the stray cats that we are, we accepted without hesitation. After a great meal at an Indian restaurant we were informed that around the corner at the Met Bar, a band called The Deputies were doing their once a month thing. So, having clean forgotten the suffering that followed our recent encounter with South Africans, we made our way over and, in what must have been the most cosmopolitan scene anywhere in the world, we proceeded to join with embassy staff from the four corners of the world and take in our fare share of great music and cold beer.
In what is also becoming a tradition, we were once again amongst the last to leave and, with us both speaking fluent something or other (not English) somehow found our way back to the hotel. Fortunately we only had to wake the doorman once, as there had been no rain during the day and we were almost guaranteed a dry room.
The other thing we decided to do to pass the time and take our minds off pending clearances, was to book a tour to Ha Long Bay to see what all the fuss is about. Now these tours, especially the el cheapo variety that we booked, depart at 7:30am, regardless of how many beers you enjoyed the night before.
The three and a half hours in the back of a noisy, bumpy bus were just what the doctor ordered. Thankfully looking the way we did, people seemed hesitant to sit next to us and we had plenty of space to ourselves. Stopping at a tourist trap on the way down and coming face to face with a bottle of snake wine did little to help the situation. For those who don't know, snake wine is a Vietnamese specialty consisting of a bottle of some clear light liquid in which a whole snake has been preserved. Apparently very good for you, unless your the snake of course. I tried to cheer Ricky up by explaining that we should be thankful that you can't get a dog into a bottle but it did little to lift his spirits.
A short eternity later we arrived in Ha Long bay and after our tour guide had his customary discussion with anyone at the boat rental place who would listen, we climbed on board one of the multitude of junks and got comfortable. It seems the arrangement on the water is much like that on the roads. With Vietnam's entry into the main stream tourist market and no apparent new development at what must have been a fishing pier, the junks line up about three deep and when it comes time to load passengers, simply fire up the engines and push their way between the other boats to the front. The signaling and shouting by the dock hands is fairly entertaining and with heads on the mend, we were thankful to get off the dock and into the relative peace and quiet of the bay.
This peace is occasionally shattered by the junks determining who has the right of way with, what else, blasting hooters (or horns for those not familiar with the South African term for a car's noise making device). All of this aside, Ha Long bay is quite something to see. 1969 individual islands fill the bay of 300 000 square kilometers (see, even when suffering, we pay attention...) most rising like limestone pillars out of the murky green-brown water. Over the millennia, the sea as eroded the rock to form caves and grottos, some submerged by the tide while others lie high and dry and can be toured along with a string of Korean and Japanese tourists and their entourage of photo, video and other equipment.
Tourists in Ha Long Bay
After four hours of cruising the bay, trekking through caves and a short excursion in a small fishing boat to see the submerged caves used in the film Indochina, we eventually got back to the dock and after another round of shouting and signaling, we got close enough to the pier to climb off and load back into the bus.
The trip home would have been better than the one down if our new bus driver hadn't thought he had to qualify for the Monacan Grand Prix. Sitting at the back and watching him cut out of traffic to overtake another bus or truck, with oncoming traffic and then simply hoot his way out of what in any other country would certainly be a head-on collision, did not make for a relaxing trip. We did, however, get a very good view of the surrounding lands (with certain death coming from the front, it was better to look out the side windows...). With such rapid economic growth, every inch of flat land is either farmed, lived on or being turned into factories. Only on the steep slopes and mountain tops can anything resembling indigenous growth be seen.
Every now and again there is also a stark reminder of the countries troubled past. At strategic points like bridges and dams, old fortifications can still be seen between the houses with the odd gun position or pillar box still discernable. Today though, the Vietnamese have obviously found that the battlefield is a financial one and the lasting impression from the three hour trip is one of development.
Back in Hanoi we got dropped off at the Ho Hoan Kiem lake that forms the center of the tourist scene and made our way to Little Hanoi, a semi-famous meeting place where thankfully they hadn't run out of cheese burgers. The perfect end to a great day.
Alan
May 22 2004
Hanoi
Vietnam
Hello from Hanoi
Yesterday was spent rushing around faxing and re faxing to China. It is looking positive as they are now asking details as to whether of not we take off at the same time etc. We have been told that we should be able to fly on Tuesday. Lets hold thumbs
We always take off from the runways in formation which means we line up on the runway next to each other and when we are given the clearance to take off we accelerate together. As the wheels lift off the ground we move slightly apart for safety sake in case we are thrown off course suddenly by turbulence or something. This procedure makes it easy for us to remain together for the flight. If we take off separately the one will have to wait for the other and it can become complicated around the airports with a lot of other aircraft about.
Last night we were invited out to dinner and met some really great people. It is a pleasure to socialize, speak English and be understood for a change. After dinner we were mislead to a pub where a live band was playing. The music was fantastic. I was reminded by someone who was with us and had lived for a short while in Cape Town in the 80's, that it was like being at the old Hout Bay Hotel. Man did I get a sudden bout of homesickness.
A few beers later and we were dancing to Pink Floyd, singing "We don't need no thought control, Teacher leave us kids alone" (or however the words go) and this in Vietnam. Things have changed here. The hooligans playing the music are officials from two other embassies and they had a huge "jowl".
I was caught out straying off and chatting to two young girls and a certain, insensitive and unkind, not so gentleman with us, noticed this and came up behind me and said “Hey Ricky, are you trying to establish a new benchmark? Aren't they a bit young?” The girls laughed and pop went all my confidence and I slinkered back into my kennel. Nice Guy! Five months has been a long lonely time.
Today we went on a day tour to Ha Long bay in North East Vietnam where we went out on a boat to some islands that tower out of the water. It is very impressive and dramatic. We have seen quite a lot of this from Langkawi(Malaysia) north but this was the first time we experienced them from below.
Cheers for now.
Ricky
May 24 2004
Hanoi
Vietnam
Day 161 - May 24 Looking good... Like a bolt out of the blue this morning the phone rang and on the other side was a flight clearance number from China. After we stopped jumping around the hotel room like a bunch of intoxicated pop-stars, we realised that there was still a lot that needed doing before we could relax.
We still needed to get departure clearance from Vietnam, get the paperwork in order for Canada and the USA (it never ends....) and post it off and get to the airport to make sure everything there was still in order. Setting to work with the energy that only good news can bring, we invaded the SA Embassy yet again and with their very kind help seem to have things pretty much under control.
Of course we don't actually have the Chinese clearance in writing but with the assurance of the SA Embassy in Beijing we will depart at 8am tomorrow and about 3 hours later should be touching down on Chinese soil. With our arrival in Cambodia still fresh in the mind , we just hope all will be in order but if not, at least we'll be able to report first hand on the food they serve in Chinese detention facilities...
Alan
May 24 2004
Hanoi
Vietnam
Update from Vietnam
Those who have been following the web page regularly will know that we have been waiting in Hanoi since Tuesday for the clearance into China. This might seem frustrating, but the reality is that it is not. We occasionally enjoy stopping for a while and visiting the different areas and doing the tourist stuff. There is always something interesting to do - for example, yesterday's tour to Ha Long Bay provided beautiful scenery and good relaxation. It gives one time off from the stress of trying to get things done. In other words the dog can stop barking for a while (see previous update about Cambodia). The nicest thing about stopping is the people we get to meet and socialize with - they are all so encouraging and really interested in following and helping with the expedition. We cannot explain how important it has become to us that other people are enjoying what we are doing and so, in some or other form, partake in it.
We take off and fly to strange unknown destinations with all the insecurities and fears of normal travel. Add to that all the flying, engine, equipment and weather factors. After all, we have flown a distance of more than once around the world - not an easy task, and one that has definitely taken a toll on both of us. Now ask yourself, “What keeps us going?” It is the people behind us. Everyone is supporting and making us feel so reassured that if we are in trouble we can turn back and they will help us get going again. That is what has got us so far and what keeps our enthusiasm going.
An expedition like this has moved beyond two individuals and two machines. There are school children doing projects on this expedition. It has developed such momentum that even the authorities in each country are being supportive. The Civil Aviation here in Vietnam are rearranging things to accommodate us while the clearance is being organized in China and the Chinese Civil Aviation is helping us plan the best route through China and hence the delays.
To this you may ask “Why?” Simply because they are supporting the mission of this expedition. They understand the necessity of promoting our countries positively; and they want to show their support for the charity of the Red Cross Children’s Hospital.
South Africa is highly regarded in the East and hence the expedition has had media coverage beyond everyone’s expectations. It has been covered on the main television news in 8 countries so far and endless newspaper articles in over 15 countries.
The Red Cross Children’s Hospital has been an important and integral part of what we are doing. It is their name that has opened doors which have allowed us as South Africans through countries we otherwise not have been able to pass.
Thanks
Ricky
Terrace farming, Vietnam
Children of Vietnam
May 25 2004
Nanning
China
Day 162 - May 25 Hanoi to Nanning Another one of those roller-coaster days that plays havoc with the nerves and is enough to drive a man to beer (if only we knew what beer was in Chinese...) It all started well. We got to the airport on time, checked with the met office and got a report of fair conditions along the route and then proceeded through immigration and customs. The initial reaction was the same 'Where's you boarding pass?' which of course we don't have. Trying to explain only made things worse until I reached into my bag and produced some photo's of the planes to try a more graphic explanation. Suddenly the penny dropped and our little television appearance paid big dividends. Of course it also meant everyone wanted to see the pictures and shake hands but once again, this was a small price to pay to be one step closer to the planes.
The rest of the passage out onto the apron went smoothly and we even got escorted by one of the assistants onto a waiting bus and driven out to the planes. Things were really looking up and with time to spare we had the planes packed, pre-flighted and ready to roll. And then things took a turn for the bureaucratic. The minimum visibility for VFR (Visual Flight Rules) that we fly under, is 5 km. In conditions with less visibility, it is quite normal to ask for Special VFR which allows for flights in conditions down to 2km and with our speed at a snail-like 90km/h, we could in fact fly in far.
But in Vietnam things work a bit different. When we asked for start-up clearance, we were told to stand by - no reason or explanation. Ten minutes later and a few more calls, we got informed that the visibility was too low and we'd have to wait. At which time another official came running up with a clip-board and another invoice - this one for immigration and customs charges.... it never ends.
More calls to the tower requesting special VFR lead to the discovery that if we wanted special VFR, we'd have to re-submit our flight plan, at the Flight Operations Office, on the other side of the airport! With nothing to loose and obviously plenty of time, I left Ricky to sort out the immigration official and took a walk across to the office. Having explained to the dozen or so guards and officials who questioned me as I wondered, unaccompanied, across the apron, I eventually got to the office and the smile from the lady on the other side of the counter made me forget the frustration building outside. They really know how to work with pilots here.
One flight plan later and hopes of getting airborne, I made my way back through the maze of guards and got back to Ricky, the planes, and another dent in the budget. And when we called for start-up, we once again got the 'Stand By' treatment. From across the apron I could see Ricky turning red as three more requests were met with the same response.
Eventually, and through broken English we got the message that having resubmitted our flight plan, they now needed to get approval firstly from the airports authority and then from Civil Aviation.... another 30 minutes wait. Glancing across at Ricky I saw him drop his head onto his hands and stare at the ground. A sentiment definitely shared.
Long before the clearance came from Civil Aviation or another official arrived with a clip-board and more bills, the weather cleared and we got the go ahead to start up and get out of there. And we did. Not sure if it was our obvious frustration or just their nature but as each controller handed us on to the next, they wished us well and said goodbye in a way that made it hard to understand the hard time we had had on the ground.
After about 90 minutes of flying we got to the border and the hand over point. Where we would see just how valid the Chinese clearance number really was. Clearly the Chinese are very organised because the ATC were ready and waiting for us and guided us through without the slightest hesitation or even asking for the clearance number.
Actually the whole entrance into China was almost as anti-climatic as flying from Dili to Darwin. Everyone knew we were coming, where we were and at what time we would land. Nanning tower routed us in over the field and onto a right hand circuit that gave us a beautiful view of the row of military aircraft parked opposite the civil apron. Maybe just to let us know what we could expect if we misbehaved (not that we ever do that...).
On the ground we were lead in by the follow me car and met by an every increasing group of curious officials. With very little English on their part and considerably less Mandarin on ours, plenty of hand-signals and gesturing eventually led us to a great parking spot for the trikes. Amongst the group of onlookers were two off-duty airhostesses who, much to our amusement, insisted on helping to pull the trikes over to the parking bay. Their male colleagues saw much humour in the fact that by the time we reached the far end of the apron, the two girls were sweating worse than us and had obviously put in some effort.
Immigration, who, unbeknownst to us, had specially arrived to clear us in and were probably wanting to go home, had been fairly persistent and only backed down after Ricky dropped to his knees in an exaggerated pleading gesture. This did not go down well and obviously embarrassed the officials who dragged Ricky to his feet and slunk away to wait their turn. A very clear indication that we're now in a place where honour still means a lot...
Immigration, customs and the mandatory SARS check all went off without a hitch and all too soon we were out on the street looking for a hotel. Imagine the scene - two rather lost looking South Africans in a place where not a single sign is written in English and seemingly no one speaks an understandable word.
Across the road we found the Airport Hotel (literally the only English sign and a very welcome sight) and discovered that one of the cleaners could speak some English. We could have kissed her.
With a great room at a price we were more than happy with, our fun wasn't over yet. Dinner (or actually breakfast as it would be our first meal of the day) had to be found. Through hand signals, mostly Ricky shoving his hands into his mouth, we found our way down the street and to an open-air place that seemed to serve food.
Talk about helpful people. Along the way we had passed some young guys who obviously knew where we were going and that we would battle with the language. They followed us in and through their broken English and our clearly incomprehensible sign language, tried to order some simple vegetable fried rice. We thanked them and they went on their way.
I have on occasions mocked Ricky about his fussy eating but tonight had to compliment him. Our obvious shortfall in the communication department resulted in a number of dishes arriving at our table, and not one that we could identify. In fact the only thing we could identify came in an icecold green bottle and tasted like a very welcome beer.
Probably more through hunger than anything else we tucked in and actually had an amazing dinner. I don't think we ate anything that back home would be considered a pet and our every increasing dexterity with chop-sticks resulted in only half the table being strewn with food that didn't make it to the mouth.
Our arrival in China is really a massive milestone for the expedition. Just looking at what we went through today and knowing what still lies ahead, it isn't going to be easy but on this trip it seems the worse things get, the better we do, so hold thumbs, keep those mails and messages coming and lets get to Alaska!
PS - the Chinese make rather good beer.
Alan
May 26 2004
Nanning
Chinese
Day 163 - May 26 Nanning I had a friend back home who insisted that if during the course of a day you learned just one thing, then that day wasn't wasted. If that's true then today was put to good use.
It started with a call from Moscow to say that out initial application for flight clearance through Russia had been declined. Although expected and similar to at least half a dozen other countries we have flown through, it still initiated a wave of activity from our hotel room. Ricky made arrangements to get to the airport business center where he could print and send a fax while I got stuck into our hotel room internet connection to see why we could only view local web sites.
I learned that the Chinese have two internets; the one that anyone can access, some sort of internet-lite, secure and well managed behind what is affectionately known as the Great (fire)Wall of China, and the second internet, more familiar to the rest of the world that may only be accessed from approved locations, and, judging by the speed, still passes through a rather thick filter.
But Ricky got his fax off and also learned that our Russian clearance was turned down because they feared for our lives like the half dozen other countries that initially turned us down. This is very kind of them but now we need to explain that it is also unnecessary and that we'll behave well and try very hard not to kill ourselves.
We then decided to take a break from the hotel room and quickly take a walk across the road and refuel the planes. Last night we learned that there was a fuel station about 100m from where we parked and that fuel here costs very much the same as it does at home.
Three hours later we had learned that our charades was about as bad as our Mandarin and getting to the planes was not a simple task. Luckily the Chinese people have a great sense of humour and infinite patience and after numerous phone calls to the 'leaders', we got to the planes, refueled and then had to fill in a guarantee that we took full responsibility for the act of refueling. That was a new one for us too.
By now we had missed lunch and rather than battle through another round of charades, chose to work through to dinner and thus save time, money and some face. We spent the time getting emails and faxes off to anyone who'd listen, using the airport business center that had an approved internet connection. In fact anyone out there who'd like to support us, is welcome to give their local Russian Embassy a call and suggest they reconsider giving us clearance.
By 7pm we were both starving and gave up the rather slow internet and headed for the eating place up the road, armed with a list of translation kindly provided by Alick and Mr Wang, some contacts who have been helping us into China.
Now we don't know what we did wrong but while everyone around us got fairly good looking food, our gestures and reference to the translation resulted in two bowls of rice and a plate of what was definitely chicken pieces. I say this with confidence because clearly visible among the pile were at least two feet and one beak. Well I guess it is safe to say we only got one chicken then.
Ricky drew back in horror and while I did my best with the poor beast, he managed to arrange some vegetables and settled in to fill up. Once again it all got washed down with beer and the end result was two well fed pilots, ready for tomorrows flight and probably a discussion or two about landing fees.
Alan
May 27 2004
Guilin
China
I thought I would post the last entries that were emailed to me before the accident happened. Unfortunately I did not get a chance to post them on the web before hand but my thinking right now is that everyone deserves to see what Alan had to say before he died.
Kind regards Bernice Griffiths from:
The goldfish studio web design company (managing the photo gallery & diary updates through email)
Day 164 - May 27 Nanning to Guilin Wake up calls always seem to come too early around here but after a quick shower-pack, we headed for the planes and a chance to see how we'd get through security. Taking a chance, we headed for the side gate, a tactic that seldom works but that we always try anyway.
Low and behold, the security guard was obviously still half a sleep and after a glancing check of our pilot's licenses let us through. Good way to start. In fact things went so well that with 40 minutes to spare we were ready and a call to the tower got us clearance for an early start.
The flight on to Guilin was little more than a formality. The countryside, however, was quite a contrast to what we've seen so far. After clearing the city, the urban landscape gave way abruptly to intense agriculture. The whole way to Guilin we flew over heavily farmed lands with small farming towns clustered every couple of kilometers.
The infrastructure is also something to see. Away from the main roads small rural roads criss-cross the fields but anywhere large volumes of traffic need to move, massive double or triple lane freeways run straight from point to point, through tunnels cut into mountains, where required and crossing some impressive bridges where rivers get in the way. Looking down from above one is left in no doubt that the people below are hard at work.
Approaching Guilin we ran into some thin layers of mist but the ATC was very accommodating and allowed us to descend and fly below it at our own discretion. The runway at Guilin was still wet from early morning showers but the sky had cleared and on arrival we were met by the usual band of curious onlookers. Among them were ground crew, airhostesses and even one of the 737 pilots. News of our arrival had obviously been spread because one of the girls ran up with her camera and asked to be photographed with the brave heroes. We couldn't find any so Ricky and I offered to stand in...
The ground staff were extremely helpful and arranged four massive tie-down blocks, big enough for a 747, for us and even offered to drive us to the petrol station to get fuel. A real bonus and before we knew it we had our flight plan submitted, the planes refueled and were walking to the Airport Hotel - apparently a feature at all the major airports in China and real good value for money.
In fact the only bad luck came when we ordered lunch and once again managed to get a foot thrown in with the chicken. Maybe its good luck but afterwards Ricky promised never again to say bad things about Macdonald's...
Alan
May 28 2004
Nanning
China
Howzit My China? Is not a phrase I would normally use but seeing as we have made it to China, I am sure you can understand that it is acceptable. We arrived in Nanning two days ago and today we are in Guilin in the lower central part of China.
Arriving in China went very well and all the authorities were aware of us and all knew about the expedition. There was even a journalist waiting for us and we had to stand next to each person and have photographs taken with them. (Dit pla nie vir ons windgat kerels nie) Although English was very scarce they were quite enthusiastic and helpful.
As per normal our engines had just stopped and everyone was asking for passports and pieces of paper continuously. It got to the point where I went down on my knees and beg them to give us a chance to park and tie up the aircraft. This was received with incredible shock and them asking me to please get up and half lifting me up. (Bingo! Found something that can be effective if necessary).
In Nanning we received news of The Russian permit being rejected and this is after a few months of the South African Embassy in Moscow working with them. This was such a downer and it had me really "p"d off. On the bright side, this one will be the last of the difficult ones and it will be the home run after this. Many others have rejected us and we got through them so we have to keep positive and pursue all the alternatives. We are gathering details and assessing which moves to do next. In the meantime lets enjoy China.
It is a great privilege to fly through here as so many have tried and so many have also flown through here and had their fair share of difficulty. The last microlight to fly through here got forced down and shot at by jets because he wondered into military airspace so we will be very good boys here.
The flying since Hanoi has been good with tail winds and smooth conditions. The season is changing to the rain season here so we have to move North rapidly to miss it.
Cheers From China
Ricky
May 28 2004
Wuhan
China
This message is to try and keep people updated and I am not sure if this is the right thing to be writing but there is so much happening, so many questions and phone calls.
Today was one of our worst days. Alan has gone down near a town called Changsha. We got into difficult weather and something went wrong. What, we don't know yet. The Chinese search and rescue and airforce are out there right now looking for him. For those of you who are not aware of how efficient things are here, they were searching within 10 minutes of his radio call and are really doing the best that can possibly be done under the circumstances. The weather in the area is bad and the cloud base is down to 200 feet. We were close together at the time and I immediately took co-ordinates so they only need to look in an area of about 10km square. The person in charge of the operation will keep me posted of the progress.
It is now 7pm here and still very light so lets hold thumbs.
Ricky
May 29 2004
Wuhan
China
Alan has been found and it saddens me to write that this expedition is over.
Once I have verified what went wrong I will update. Thank you from both of us for having given us so much encouragement. We really appreciated that so many people were as enthusiastic about the adventure as we were.
Ricky
May 31 2004
Wuhan
China
There is a lot of emotional and frightening realities to deal with right now and it has been difficult to keep thinking logically but one thing I have come to realise is that the expedition cannot end like this. We have traveled so far and done so much, to just leave it here? I will write an update soon as to what I am thinking.
Please keep up the positive and encouraging messages.
‘
Thank You
Ricky
May 30 2004
China
Web Message from Alans mother, Joc
Sun 30 May 2004 : 06h42[South Africa] Posted by: Jocelyn, Roy & Steven ( jocelynh@lantic.net )
To all our friends, to Ricky, and to all Alan's friends (even those he didn't know)
We would like to thank you all for the messages of condolences, for your prayers and support during the saddest time of our lives. We could never have imagined just how many people Alan has touched in his short life-time, and it gladdens our hearts to know that he was held in such high esteem by so many. We thank Ricky with all sincerity for standing by him during good and bad, thick and thin, and for sharing the dream with him.
This trip did not happen over night! It took years of planning, being the careful and meticulous people that both Ricky and Alan are. And it won't be forgotten, not ever. Let's make that dream of "freedom" live on, let's make it work for everyone and our nation, let's make the dream come true. I will be leaving for China on Tuesday, traveling to Changsha, to attend to matters with Ricky. The SA Embassy in Beijing have been extremely supportive and have assisted in everyway, and we are grateful to them. Upon my return we will be holding a Memorial Service for Alan at St John's Methodist Church, PE, time and date to be announced. (probably 9/10 June) We invite you all to join us in celebration of Alan's life.
We have been overwhelmed by the outpouring of love shown to us and we thank you all for your emails, sms's, phone calls and visits. Most of all we thank you for loving Alan. It has been a privilege to be his parents and brother.
Fly well and fly happy Alan, you have your own wings now. We love you.
Joc, Roy and Steven
May 31 2004
Changsha
China
Thank you very, very much for all your messages and emails of encouragement. It has a huge help in handling the reality of Alan’s accident.
Alan was found within hours of his mayday call. The Chinese authorities sent out over two hundred people to search for him. He was found in a large river near a town called Miluo which is about 100km north west of Changsha. There were a lot of formalities and inquiries to answer and I only got news of Alan at about 7pm. I tried to get there immediately but due to communication and transport difficulties I was only able get to him the next day. It was extremely difficult to have to identify Alan and was a hard reality check.
The wreckage of the microlight is in a large deep river with fast flowing silted water which makes it near impossible to find and verify what went wrong.
He has been moved to Changsha where Alan’s mother, Joc, will meet me on Wednesday evening and he will be cremated on Thursday afternoon at 3pm (9am South African time). On her return the family will be holding a Memorial Service for Alan at St John's Methodist Church, PE, time and date to be announced. (probably 9/10 June).
I have to add that the Chinese Authorities have been extremely helpful and efficient. It has been difficult with communication and as a result on occasions I have been unreasonable wanting to do something or find out something to later find that they had that issue already sorted out.I have managed to deal with this scenario thanks to the incredibly understanding Chinese people, Authorities and the help of the South African Embassy who have sent Mr Rashling and an interpreter Maria to assist.
Ricky
June 1 2004
Changsha
China
From Ricky
Thank You very, very much for all the messages and encouragement. We never realised that this expedition was being followed by so many people all over the world.
On our journey we came to realise something that we have been trying to convey in our stories and that is, that most perceptions of countries and their people have been based on misleading information. The world is a fantastic place with amazing and kind people. Hopefully you can all appreciate this, as we have, by the messages on the message board.
These messages are helping me realise the importance of continuing the expedition. How and in what shape or form is what I am trying to figure out. There are dynamics and formalities that are beyond my control that I need to figure a way around them to see what is possible.To continue alone is going to be hard but what needs to come first is to do it safely. I am a person who finds it difficult to ask or receive help easily but I am going to need some help to continue. How I am not sure yet but I cannot do it alone. It is not necessarily a flying partner. Often Alan and I would not talk to each other for hours when we flew. It was our time away from each other but when we landed in the foreign environment we each had some one to share responsibilities, debate decisions and get things done. So it is more to occasionally meet people along the way who understand what is needed and assistance in getting things organised.
Alan's mother arrives tomorrow evening and the cremation is on Thursday. They leave back to South Africa on Sunday when I will travel by train to Wuhan where my microlight is parked. I will spend a few days taking it apart and inspecting it and hopefully by this time I will know what is and ins't possible to do from that point on.
Thank You
Cheers
Ricky
June 2 2004
I can confirm that Alan's memorial service will be held in Port Elizabeth, South Africa on Thursday June 10 at the St. Johns Methodist Church, Havelock St. Central at 2.30pm.
Remember also that part of their adventure was to collect funds for the Red Cross Children's Hospital in Cape Town. A hospital that cares for children from all over the African continent and even further abroad. Donations in lieu of flowers can be sent to the hospital's bank account . Details of this are available on this website under "beneficiaries” or via their web page, www.kidzhospital.co.za All donations will be appreciated.
Thank you to the whole world for the messages of condolence and prayers that our family has received in this very sad time. You have given us a new hope for a better world. Let us build on what Ricky and Alan have started.
As I write this my wife Jocelyn is on her way to have Alan's remains cremated and to bring his ashes back home.
God Bless you all.
Roy Honeyborne (Alan' father)
June 2 2004
Changsha
China
Hi From Changsha in China
Thanks again for the messages and emails. I am reading them all and it is getting me up and motivated. I am working on several plans as to how to continue. There are certain factors beyond my control as to how I will continue and it will take some time to sort them out.
What I can say is that the Chinese Authorities have done extensive investigation as to the circumstances leading up to and Alan’s incident and it has helped in clarifying a lot of what may have gone wrong. Details can not be discussed but will go so far as to say that I feel confident to continue flying my microlight for the rest of the expedition.
Thanks for the concern about me being alone here with the communication difficulties. The language problem is one issue but there is such a vast cultural difference which is the real difficulty. Alan and I got used to the language barrier and have work out methods around them but this cultural barrier is unusual. Without realizing it you can be insulting or are considered serious when you are actually being accommodating or relaxed about a situation.
One of these situations was when I was driven to identify Alan. I was not sure where I was being taken or who the people around me were or even when we would get to wherever we were going. It took three hours to get to a place which I could only assume was the destination because the car was turning into town and they were asking people for directions. Picture mentally preparing yourself to see your friend’s body but the drive goes on and on and nobody can tell you when you will get there or where it is. The emotions and the frustrations drove me insane. When we stopped I was taken into what looked like a hotel, to a room with a dining room table and told to sit. By this stage I was absolutely confused, frustrated and felt like a wild animal in a cage.
I phoned someone who could speak English and asked him to get an explanation as to what was happening and where was Alan that I had come to see? He said that we were going to have lunch first. I nearly tore the place to pieces and freaked out at everybody and screamed that I wanted to see Alan now! Now! Now!
What was actually going on was that when one meets a dignitary it is customary to sit down and have something to eat and discuss things before you do what ever it is that is going to be done. In the room were several dignitaries that I was unaware of and the man who translated was Chinese and took it for granted that everybody does things like this and did not explain. It took a while to calm down and due to the circumstances they forgave me for my outburst.
It is these scenarios which happen every day that is difficult. I have adapted not to expect anything other than to continually ask and gently persist until the solution appears.
The South African Embassy being here has helped a lot and it gives me time to relax and spend time alone working things out.
I can’t find the words to describe how difficult it will be to continue without Alan. It is like loosing a limb and now you have to get on with normality again on your own.
I might write scattered thoughts but that’s what is going on right now.
Ricky
June 4 2004
Changsha
China
Yesterday was Alan”s funeral and cremation in Changsha. It was held at the mortuary where they had all the facilities and were well organized. Maria from the South African Embassy did most of the organizing. We arranged a Christian priest to do a sermon. The priest was a Chinese lady who could speak a bit of English and she arranged a “small” choir to sing two hymns. Small being 28 singers all dressed in light blue robes and next to them were 7 officials from the local government and civil aviation department. Riaan Du Toit of the South African Embassy said a few words for Alan. Things were quite traumatic but Alan’s mom, Joc and I had faced the worst the day before when we went to see him.
Joc sat down and I stood next to her looking at Alan surrounded by flowers. While the proceedings were going on I was thinking of the long, long flight we had flown, the places we had traveled and how Alan always saw and wrote about things from an interesting perspective. He has made it an incredible expedition and brilliantly described the experiences which those of you who have followed on the web can appreciate what I mean.
What got me emotionally was looking at the South African flag that covered Alan. It made me desperately home sick and also got me thinking about how we viewed South Africa when we were at home compared to now. At home we were not exactly the best ambassadors but now that we have seen South Africa from this end of the world we realize how that is our home, it is who we are and where we belong. SA is not perfect but neither is any other country and the circumstances back home we can do something about.
For each time we complain about South Africa we should in return do twice as many positive things. Ricky
Maria (Left) Alan’s mom Joc (Centre)
June 6 2004
Changsha
China
Alan’s mother, Joc, left for South Africa today. She is a strong lady and it was a pleasure to be with her for a few days. SAA has been a huge help in getting Joc to Changsha. We owe a very special thank you to SAA and to many other people like Rean Du Toit, Maria and the staff of the SA Embassy in Beijing.
This evening I am spending in Changsha and will go to Wuhan tomorrow, where the microlight is parked. I will spend a few days there checking the microlight and sorting out a puncture. From there I hope to fly to Zhengzhou and then Tianjin which is near Beijing. It is then by train to Beijing to visit the South African Embassy and make arrangements from there.
The Russians have rejected the flight clearance again. There is still one more outside chance at this which I will pursue in Beijing. It may take a few weeks but let’s hold thumbs.
There are many alternatives that I am working on to get going again. Authorities and circumstance will dictate which one it will be. I am gathering facts on all of them and once this is done and I will write as to which alternatives are available. Seeing as there is nobody to bounce these things off maybe I will ask for your opinion on the message board.
From now on it is I, I and I again. This is all going to be a big adjustment.
Alan and I worked well together. We got along as well as it was humanly possible for two individuals who lived in each others pockets for the last six months. He was always calm and I was always frantic and stressing but out of that mix came probably the best decisions possible. I used to mention at dinners and small presentations that if things were left to Alan we would probably still be in Africa on some beach having a huge party and if things were left to me we would be in some jail in Asia. How far we have traveled is a result of a combination of the two of us. For me to succeed, I have to apply what I learnt from him.
Cheers
Ricky
June 7 2004
Wuhan
China
The day started with a very interesting four hour train ride from Changsha to Wuhan. To describe what it is like one needs to remember that China has the largest population in the world so you do not travel very far without seeing buildings and apartments. In between the outcrops of buildings the areas of farm land are mainly light green rice paddies. Every square inch of ground has something planted on it. Even on road verges and islands. No ground is wasted.
The old methods of pulling the plough using water buffalo are still widely used. Sometimes the buffalo are buried up to their bellies in the waterlogged mud. How they pull anything in that is a mystery. There are lots of water canals and old ponding systems around the area. There is a strange mix of fast moving modern development with century or more old methods still around. The development is at an incredible pace. At one point I counted sixteen building cranes and that is in a small town (In Chinese terms it is a town but in any other country it is a city).
Some statistics we have heard are that Shanghai at the moment has more than 50% of the world’s cranes operating in that city alone. In Beijing there are more than 1000 cars being added to their roads per day. Most of the drivers have had no formal training and the average person has been driving for 11 months. That is how fast things are changing. One would need to see the pace of things here to believe it.
At the hotel we stayed at in Changsha we noticed each morning different foreigners at breakfast with baby Chinese girls. It was pointed out to us that the hotel is next to a government orphanage where lots of foreign families come and adopt the babies who are only girls. With the “One child only” policy here in China many parents abandon the child if it is a girl, as huge importance is placed on having a son to carry on the family name. As a result of this there is a problem of too many boys for the future generation so they are going to be reassessing the one child policy. I am now in Wuhan and will be inspecting the trike tomorrow and will apply for clearance to fly in one or two day’s time. Let us see what will be the response.
Cheers
Ricky
June 7 2004
THANK YOU to everybody who donated money to the Red Cross Children's Hospital. I got news from them about the donations. It was a really kind gesture and has highlighted how important Alan was to so many people.
Thank You Dankie
Ricky
June 8 2004
Wuhan
China
Today was spent getting my way through security to the microlight where I went to the only hanger at the airport and asked if I may use a small corner to disassemble and inspect the microlight. This was answered with the usual barrage of Chinese sentences explaining that they did not understand and it all led to the standard “Sit! Wait!” I replied with a “Ja Baas!” and they were happy. How I knew they were happy was because each person took a turn at offering me something. It was cold water, hot water, cigarettes, and even went as far as them getting some green bean soup on the boil. Amazing how much energy a bit of communication confusion can create.
A few minutes later a lovely lady arrived and introduced herself as Lilly and could sort of speak English. She was really nice so I kept asking questions in the hope that she would stay and it worked. So I had eye candy included in the offerings.
As usual things escalated to asking the director of China if I could use a little corner of the hanger and the answer was, “sure but it would cost U$500 PER HOUR” and I was lucky to get it so cheap. This was obviously my lucky day so I chanced my luck even further and asked her if I would get a Chinese massage thrown in for that price. Things ended with me working in the same corner but a meter outside the door with the entire staff, tools, facilities and lunch for free.
I inspected the bolts on the wing, the attachment bolts and plates of the wing to the hang pylon and every other bolt included. Everything was found to be in perfect condition with no deformities or even unusual marks at all. This of course sheds a different light on Alan’s radio calls on the day of the incident and diminishes any possibility of structural failure.
Tomorrow I will do a few test flights and later will submit a flight plan to fly on as if nothing has changed and see what happens.
Ciao
Ricky
June 10 2004
Wuhan
China
This morning is Alan's Memorial Service in port Elizabeth and I understand there are several other services in South Africa. Best Wishes to everybody back home. Thinking of you and missing you all lots.
Ricky
This is a poem brilliantly written by a good friend of mine. Many people will appreciate this and I think every pilot can relate to what she has written.
Thu 10 Jun 2004 Posted by: Sabina Dickerson
FOR ALAN
I hope there's a place, way up in the sky,
Where pilots can go, when they have to die.
A place where a guy can buy a cold beer
For a friend and a comrade, whose memory is dear;
A place where no doctor or lawyer can tread,
Nor a management type would ere be caught dead;
Just a quaint little place, kind of dark, full of smoke,
Where they like to sing loud, and love a good joke;
The kind of a place where a lady could go
And feel safe and protected, by the men she would know.
There must be a place where pilots go,
When their paining is finished, and their airspeed gets low,
Where the whiskey is old, and the women are young,
And songs about flying and dying are sung,
Where you'd see all the fellows who'd flown west before,
And they'd call out your name, as you came through the door.
Who would buy you a drink, if your thirst should be bad,
And relate to the others, "He was quite a good lad!"
And then through the mist, you'd spot an old guy
You had not seen in years, though he taught you to fly.
He'd nod his old head, and grin ear to ear;
And say, "Welcome, my son, I'm pleased that you're here.
For this is the place where true flyers come,
When their journey is over and the war has been won.
They've come here at last to be safe and alone
From the government clerks and the management clone,
Politicians and lawyers, the Feds and the noise,
Where all hours are happy, and these good ole boys
Can relax with a cool one, and a well deserved rest;
This is heaven, Alan......You've passed your last test!"
Thank you, Sabina
June 11 2004
Wuhan
China
Another day in Wuhan
No test flight and still no response from the Civil Aviation Authorities. This type of anxious waiting, which has occurred throughout the expedition, is the difficult part of the flight. With present circumstances it does not make the “Sit and Wait” process any more comfortable.
If they do not give me an answer today I will get a train to Beijing tomorrow and will spend a week there. I have been asked to do an interview, as they want to do a documentary on the expedition for the Chinese television. This will be on Thursday next week. The interviewer had better be good and the cameraman had best be patient with all the retakes.
Alan’s memorial service yesterday was very well attended and had many messages of condolences, including from several South African government officials and political leaders. This was well received and appreciated by his family and me.
To the Microlighters who did flights in memory of Alan’s achievement in our sport, we say thank you very much. He would have appreciated it.
I could not just sit around letting thoughts and memories create havoc in my mind so I went for a long walk to a nearby village. It was a fascinating walk back in time. The houses are relatively old and all built the same. It seems the government built them to a certain standard and then the individuals were left to finish them off. Some have done so and others have left them as they were. They are all double stories with the upper floor over hanging the bottom floor by about one meter towards the road. There is a front room, which was probably the lounge; of about 3.6mx4m with a staircase behind and behind that is what seems to be a kitchen. The bedrooms are obviously upstairs. Most of the people use these front rooms as a shop open on to the road.
These shops sell things from basic foods and necessities to being workshops for motorcycle repairs etc. What vehicles there were around were very old and would certainly fall in the class of vintages.
The only sign of the modern world was a shop selling cell phones and related goodies.
Along the way a few children spotted me and were intrigued, as was everybody else at this strange looking, hairy foreigner walking through their village. To give you an idea of how scarce foreigners are in these areas the town where Alan was found had last seen a foreigner eight years prior to me getting there.
The children followed me on their bicycles and said hello in English and if I said anything they would repeat it. Wherever I went they would follow, giggling and passing comments in Chinese.
I stopped at one of these lounge/shop type places, which had some very nice bagel looking things with some chocolate sprinklings on it. The old man behind the make shift glass counter was fast asleep and when he opened his eyes and saw me, a foreigner, he got quite a fright, much to the delight of the children and bystanders. I pointed to what I wanted and after a few attempts to get him to give it to me he eventually realized I was a willing customer and not some bad spy he had been told about years ago. He took it out of the glass counter and dropped it on the filthy floor and wanted to give it to me. When I was not willing to take it, it created an even greater confusion. He then took a second one out thinking that I wanted two and I took one and gave him money. He tried to give me change and when I told him to keep it, it created another even bigger dilemma. Eventually I took the change from him and then left it on his counter and then he was happy. It’s not easy doing even the simplest of tasks here. The bagel thingy was yummy.
I then headed back and stopped to take photos of some water buffalo wallowing in a dirty pond and tried to get some interesting shots of paddy fields along the way.
Water buffalo and Children
It is great to take time out and wonder around but it was much nicer with Alan around because he was hairier than me and the kids would hassle him more. It used to really “P” him off but being a gentle giant he used to tolerate it. Often I would grin at him thinking he would soon blow a fuse but he never did. Now I can see why he used to get so upset.
In these little adventures off the beaten track he would always pass humorous comments that made things even look different.
Ciao Ricky
June 12 2004
Beijing
China
Hi from Beijing
Things are still frustratingly in limbo here. We have been trying to get an answer from the authorities and there seems to be a reluctance to answer because there are mixed emotions within the powers that be. The thought of me continuing is received favorably but it is a rumor that nobody wants to say go ahead because they are concerned that if something happens it will be considered their fault. This will take some careful convincing to sort out.
The intention is to get flying and head north to Harbin which should be the world record and hence the importance of continuing from where the microlight is in Wuhan.
By this time we will see if the Russians are definitely saying Voetsek or not and I will return here to pick up the passport which will be left with them to process a visa.
There are several plans on the go at the moment and a few people are helping me with them. These plans may have a bearing on some of the present circumstances and also depends on the outcome of these decisions so please forgive the vagueness. As soon as I have gathered all the info and know what should be discounted as impractical and what is feasible I will write details of the plans.
In the meantime I am being held hostage in a little bit of heaven in Beijing by two (soon to be joined by a third.) lovely South African ladies who are ensuring that I understand what it is to feel like a king. I am sure this will get your minds wondering so I will not give anymore details. While I am here we are organizing an extension to the Chinese visa which will be done by Friday and then on Monday we will apply for the Russian visa which hopefully will not take too long.
Beijing is a massive city with incredible development going on. I have been trying to buy maps of Alaska, Canada and USA which has proven to be quite an exercise. It is difficult to read New York when it is written in Chinese.
We visited Tiananmen Square which represents the heart of Chinese political history.
Standing in that square was an awesome feeling of “this is real China”.
We will visit the Great Wall of China and one or two other attractions in the area.
Sorry I cant write anymore now as it is time for my foot massage.
Cheers for now.
Ricky
Tiananmen Square
June 12 2004
Sat 12 Jun 2004 : 16h59[South Africa] Posted by: Jocelyn ( jocelynh@lantic.net )
To all the kind and thoughtful people out there, Alan's friends - old and new, fellow microlighters, Alan and Ricky's fans, fans of Freedom Flight It would not be possible right now to write to each and everyone of you who has posted a message of condolence to us, either on the message board or to our home, but Roy, Steven and I would like to thank you all most sincerely for the sentiments you have expressed in all these messages.
It is obvious that Alan, in his short but happy and exciting life, has touched many lives. It makes us very proud to know that our son could mean this much to so many people - we have really been blessed.
We also thank Ricky for being there to share the dream, for making it come true and for being the other half of Freedom Flight. Please know that we are behind you every step of the way in your endeavors to keep this dream alive. Everyone out there, please keep on giving Ricky the encouragement and support that he needs and deserves.
We watched a short video taken by Alan while flying on part of their trip and the joy and happiness that we saw on his face said more than empty words. These guys fly with a passion, a passion that we cannot take from them. Support Ricky, he needs it right now.
In one of the emails that we received (I cannot remember the name, but that person will know) we picked up on three simple words that mean a million, and we have adopted them in memory of Alan - FOREVER FLYING FREE.
God bless you all
Roy, Joc and Steven
June 19 2004
Beijing
China
Hello Beijing
Things are moving along ever so slowly here. The Chinese Civil Aviation is digging its heels in and wants to say no but I am still fantasizing that they are going to say yes. It seems that support within the powers that be and the SA Embassy is also dwindling. Next week I am going to have to make a move which is what I think everyone involved here is hoping will happen and in this way they will save face by not having to say NO. These are some of the interesting dynamics of different cultures around the world.
Which way and where to from here?
Flying on is the by far the best and simplest option. Most of the time so far has been spent on getting visa updated, pursuing Russian visa, getting quotes and doing homework on various options. Any which way from here is a bureaucratic cesspit.
The Russians need details and method of travel before the issuing of visa and believe it or not I have also enquired about Mongolia who also need visa.
No great reports on Beijing other than I am doing lots of homework on the internet and am feeling positive about some of the possibilities of the brain storming ideas. There are so many ways to skin a crat (Bureaucrat).
Cheers
Ricky
June 20 2004
Beijing
China
Today was a special experience of China. We went to the Great Wall.
It started with a two hour drive to a section called Jinshanling which is a less visited section and from there we hiked along the wall for about 10 km to a more well none area called Simatai. It was a big steep climb to get onto the wall which took about twenty minutes. The first sights of the wall were a lot more impressive than I anticipated.
It is a huge wall balancing on the crest of the steep mountains and stretches in both directions as far as the eye can see. From below it looks dauntingly high with larger square turrets at regular intervals. It is built of very uniformly sized blocks all of a similar color (green/grey) and texture which indicates that they all came from a similar area. If they had to transport them from a quarry to this point of the mountain top it must have been a massive task.
The mountain does not look like it was cut or adjusted in anyway to accommodate the wall. It was built exactly in its present position following the natural contours of the mountains which is strange because one would expect them to have cut some of the mountain peaks to use the cut material in construction and at the same time making it easier to construct and more level contour for easier use. Sorry builder, builder writing here.
The wall is about 4m wide and in some places narrows down to 2m wide. There are balustrade walls of +- 1.5m high on each side with openings at regular intervals for the soldiers to position their arms. The turrets are about 12m square and have vaulted ceilings with flat roves that could accommodate more soldiers.
Great Wall of China
Walking along the wall is hard because it is always a steep incline or decline and most of the surface is disintegrating and loose. There are stacks of Chinese people hassling to sell stuff along the entire route.
At the end of the route it is a steep decline to the bottom and some enterprising young Chinese guys have set up a cable slide where you get into a mountain climbing harness and clip on to a slide mechanism which sends you down to the bottom. At it’s highest it is about 100m above a lake and is very scary. Of course we had to take a ride down and it was a lot of fun.
On the flying side still no great news and tomorrow is back to the grind stone with possible arrangements.
Cheers
Ricky
June 24 2004
Beijing
China
Hi From Frustrating Beijing
Hi things are getting extremely more frustrating every day. I have been into the Chinese Civil Aviation with an interpreter and can appreciate where they are coming from and also realise that it will be easier to move Table mountain than to try and change these thought processes. It is a definite no. Or let us say " resubmit your application and we will consider it for September when the weather improves". It might improve in China but certainly not in Alaska.
I have looked at getting the microlight to Mongolia and carrying on from there which is further west and flying through Siberia but this is also not going to happen in this life time. The Russians won’t even give a visa here as it can only be granted in South Africa. Although this is not insurmountable but how long it will take is the issue.
I have decided that this is enough. I have given this a good shot and know that I can win but will rather save this for a later date. I am going to ship to USA.
It is a pity but the virus of bureaucracy chokes this corner of the world. The real people of China are beautiful but these bureaucratic "bastions of safety" who are actually only looking after themselves, destroys everything and everyone.
It has been a bad day in Beijing
From Grumpy
June 25 2004
Hello from the Wuhan
It was a serious struggle to leave my foot massage throne of Beijing and return to the communication frustration of Wuhan. Remaining a wondering stray has its difficult moments.
I have come down here to derig the microlight and pack it to be shipped to the USA on Monday. Or so I thought. The dear shipping agent informed me that I have jumped the gun and that although the ship leaves on Monday we have to pre-book several days if not more than a week in advance and customs and, and, and . Oh well! My fault for assuming it was going to be simple.
Today was spent on the internet sourcing alternatives and interestingly finding out that air cargo will not be too much more. Hum! This certainly put my miserly nose out of joint.After today’s marathon session on the internet and telephone I feel qualified to be a Chinese customs official and load jumbos at the same time.
Tomorrow will have to be the deriging, stripping and stripping some more to reduce the size as one pays not only for weight but also volume. How and who will be freighting the microlight will be next weeks surprise as I don’t have much more than a few promises organized at this stage. Some people like things to be all organized and nicely packaged etc. Believe it or not, much to Alan’s frustration, I am one of those. If it can’t be organized and measured by a stop watch then there is nothing to stress about so what is the point?
Circumstances have got me to relax and smell the roses to a degree but I still like to be on a mission and stressing. So what I have fabricated to stress about is that Alan and I were aiming to make it to Oshkosh and that seems like a great mission to pursue again. For land lovers who are perhaps not aware what this is, it is the biggest air show in the world and is normally attended by more than 30000 aircraft. It is in the state of Wisconsin next to Lake Michigan which is just over the Rocky Mountains and across the Great Plains (Americas Serengeti) on the ooottthherr side of the USA from China. It is on the 27th July to 3rd August which sounds like plenty of time but add a few sprinkles of bureaucracy and the schedule could become tight. Hence shipping is now fast becoming less of a possibility and air freighting a necessity. Hopefully there will be stacks of South Africans there and we can have a lekker boerewors braai. Sien julle daar. Writing about boerewors (South African sausage) and thinking of communicating in English makes me really keen to get across the Pacific.
Please let me into the USA hassle free and I promise never to say anything bad about McDonalds again.
Cheers
Ricky
June 26 2004
Hi from Wuhan again.
Today I sourced yet another air freighting company whose offices are right next to the microlight. How observant to walk past it everyday and spot it today.
Negotiations were carried out on back of a cigarette box and lots of promises were made so let us see how far things go from here. The microlight has to be virtually completely disassembled and packed into two boxes to get the most cost effective balance between volume and weight. It is going to be a huge job but the upside is that every nut and bolt will be inspected and reassembled in USA. That is my only little possession and security going into those boxes.
I have been sorting out paperwork for the customs arrangements and writing letters. Another up side is that the customs office is next door and they are aware of what has been going on so hopefully it won’t be too much of a problem. They estimate it should take until Wednesday or Thursday to get the paper work arranged. That means being stuck in the sticks talking to myself for a few days, eating plain rice and funny stuff.
Expect a few long winded weird updates. I will try some philosophical writings with some theories that the world is flat. Actually I will skip the flat world part because right now it is a scary idea.
For now it is off to the internet and then back to the hotel which is one of those where the room can be rented by the hour. Last night I listened to several tunes of what sounds like Chinese accordion, from the room next door. Either she was busy or he was quite a stud. In order to keep my frail ego in tact I chose to think she was busy.
Cheers
Ricky
June 28 2004
Wuhan
China
Hi From Wuhan again and again
Yesterday was a day for adventure. I decided to take the airport shuttle bus into the city and discover yet another Chinese metropolis with a population of over 8 million.
From the bus drop off point I took a short walk to a lake which had an ornate little building next to it and a bridge across the water. It is surrounded by some unkept gardens where many couples were romantically sitting chatting and tossing things into the water etc. Romance was definitely in the air and some very attractive young lady felt that I should not be excluded so she came and asked me in broken English if I was alone. Of course being the innocent type I said I was.
A few more broken English questions and soon I was getting into deeper trouble than I could handle and had to back peddle very fast. An attempted smooth rejection did not seem to work or maybe it was her persistence that eventually drove me to plainly say No, which was not well received.
A few glances from the odd person standing around woke me up to the fact that there was more to it than I realized. A quick little stroll into the passing traffic and things seemed to dissipate with no problems but certainly had me rattled. I strolled through a few more streets all the time imagining big monsters following. I tried to buy call time for the mobile (“cell phone” back in SA) but with no success. Hand signals and pictures don’t help either and most of the time just adds confusion. All the shop signs are in Chinese lettering which adds to the difficulty of finding a shop that might remotely know where they may sell the mobile cards.
An odd sign here or there may have some English translation under them which are more humorous than effective. Names like, “Honesty, Peace, Success Real Estate” and a gym called “Daily Youth”. There must be some real gems that are not translated.
I then decided to walk back to the bus stop. In spite of having acquired a map and getting the bus driver to mark on the map where he dropped me off, I have to admit I got lost. I will blame it on the bus driver marking the map incorrectly. Maybe he is still laughing. I also have the excuse that it was a Chinese map which had no English writing. Landed up having to get a taxi back and that was a task on it’s own to explain, Airport.
Cheers
Ricky
June 29 2004
Wuhan
China
Hi from Wuhan again and again and again
Dismantling the microlight was today’s mission. This was done outside the same US$500 per hour hanger with all its facilities and keenly interested staff. This time I managed to muscle my way into the hanger with a bit of sympathy from the technicians as it was a boiling hot day with the humidity at about the maximum that human existence can sustain. Even sitting in the shade one becomes drenched in perspiration. The maximum temperature here always reaches 38 C and that is only due to a regulation that work must cease if the temperature is above this so they never report a higher temperature.
Today definitely exceeded 40 C.
Promises were made that the two boxes for the microlight would be delivered today and true to form they were not so my little security bundle has been left in a thousand pieces on a flat bed trailer in the freight agents warehouse.
To add a more exciting dimension to things I was then told that because the folded wing is 6m long it cannot be air freighted and this is after me having asked many times and confirming an equal amount of times that it would be possible to freight it. The larger freight aircraft can take this length but the smaller aircraft that service Wuhan cannot take this length and this is the problem. After a few screaming swear words it suddenly became possible so now it is a wait and see game.
At this stage the microlight may be sent on Sunday via Korea and should arrive in San Francisco on Tuesday.
What has also become a reality is that I will not be able to go for traveling else where, due to customs. I have to receive it on the other side or so I am told. Time is also running out now. Right now I will go for any way back to normality.
Spending so much time here in this pokey hotel room with the frustration of not being able to even order something to eat or talking more than two words at a time to anybody, is driving me insane. I spoke to a friend on the phone and asked them to phone back regularly and check that I am still talking sense or not sounding a bit batty.
Cheers from my cell with my now regular friend Lolo, the Red Cross Children’s hospital mascot that has been flying on the back of the microlight the whole way. I took it off today and thought it would be a good idea to rather take Lolo to dinner tonight instead of eating alone.
Am I loosing my marbles or what?
Ricky
“Lolo,” Red Cross Children’s Hospital Mascot
June 30 2004
Wuhan
China
Hi From Wuhan again and again and again and again
Another day of perspiration. Lots more dismantling than I bargained for because the boxes were made too small but the major work is done (I hope). I am told that once the packing is finished I will be free to leave and everything will be handled here. I will take them up on that not because of confidence in that things are sorted out but out of desperation to leave this state of isolation.
The idea is to go back to Beijing until the microlight is on it’s way to USA and then I will leave to San Francisco.
Alan’s brother Steven is coming to Beijing on business on Saturday and we plan to meet up, catch up and misbehave. If the Chinese think they had a problem with SARS wait until the Boere boys hit Beijing.
Aviation is going through a bit bad phase here. There has been yet another flying incident which is the third this month. It is a serious problem and one can understand the Authorities concerns. Opening the area to general aviation is not as simple as one thinks because the biggest safety aspect to general aviation is being able to learn from each others experiences and the networking that goes with it. If there is no other experience then it leaves pilots to pretty much discover things on their own which is a dangerous state of affairs. How they move safely from zero general aviation to a fully established system is going to be a difficult task. These problems are not unique to China, it is a problem in a lot of Asia.
It has been difficult and stressful to fly through a lot of these areas because of this situation. There were times we had to decide whether to follow instructions which clearly came from a source with limited experience or do what we knew was safest for our specific conditions and deal with the repercussions later. Not a pleasant situation to be flying in.
Cheers
Ricky
Hi From Wuhan again ……………
Today I was up early and beating on the freight warehouse door to ensure that I got things finished. The customs has been a bit problematic and this morning two officers came out to inspect the “cargo”. Dis nie “cargo” nie, daai’s my vlieg ding. Jou skiel oog geel $%^*&. One of them put one foot on the folded up wing and then proceeded to stand on it. You can imagine the mixed emotions whether to shout at him or keep smiling to get the customs clearance. I chose to bury my head in the other box.
The undercarriage came out at 298kg including box (2,3mx0,8mx0,8m)which was expected and the wing was 130 kg. More than double the wings weight.
The boxes are now being sent by road to Shanghai and then on a wide body cargo plane to San Francisco and the estimated arrival is on Friday next week. What will be will be.
Tomorrow I am heading back to heaven in Beijing and will arrange to fly directly to San Francisco.
Last night was a slight change of tune from the room next door. This time it was not Chinese accordion but Karaoke. Maybe it was just a novice Chinese opera singer.
Cheers
Ricky
Techno Update.
Insanity is setting in.
I thought it is time to have a technical update.
Over the last month take offs have been difficult primarily due to the direction things have been going. Persistence to get off the ground and on our way has worked in the past but even this has not been effective under the present conditions.
The fuel tank is filled with hope but is not getting through the filter which is being blocked by the bureaucracy in the system. We have sought ex-pert advice and are still looking.
The engine is struggling to start probably due to the incorrect mixture of fuel to pollution. The current outside temperatures are causing the engine to melt and the humidity is causing the exhaust to rust to bits.
The wing of the trike has faded into a box with the possibility of it being lost in transit between Chinese freighting warehouses.
There is a serious problem with the intercom system as I have been experiencing extreme difficulty in communicating.
The GPS is also playing up as I got lost trying to find the bus stop.
The engine monitoring system seems to have lost the engine in a crate.
My flying skills are developing to a state of insanity which is very good experience if one is planning to go insane.
Further than that all is going well.
Ricky
July 3 2004
Beijing
China
Hi From BEIJING
Whoopee! Back to sanity and interacting with humanity.
China is now a great place. (Drama queen!)
Alan’s brother, Steven, has also arrived and later I will meet him with my three girls so Beijing will be spared the onslaught of the boys. Having girls around is always a positive controlling force. They are inquisitively looking over my shoulder as I am writing this so I will have to change the subject to avoid being absconded to the garbage room.
The progress of my security blanket, the microlight, is unknown and the freighting agent has told me to relax and he will give me a progress report on Monday. What’s wrong with him? I am relaxed! Right now I am so relaxed that I am probably the most reasonable person I know.
This evening we are going to an area called Hou Hai which is an old section of Beijing on the edge of a man-made lake that has been preserved and protected from development. It is an area of traditional old Chinese family homes which are built in a square shape with a central courtyard. These houses are called Hutongs. The families lived in different sections of the house with the oldest members, being grandparents or parents, living in the biggest room at one end and the youngest couple living at the other end. (Obviously so the Chinese accordion and opera did not disturb the elders.)
The reason for us going there is not only for our appreciation of areas of historical interest but also because the area has been renovated and turned into restaurants and pubs and is a hive of night life activity.
Cheers
Ricky
July 5 2004
Beijing
China
What’s up in Beijing?
Met up with Steven and his colleague Conrad who are staying at a really impressive five star hotel in Beijing. What a way to travel. (Green with envy).
Our three girls ushered us passed Tiananmen square and to the area called Hou Hai. Supper was a typical Chinese restaurant with its smokey environment and also typically lacking in decoration. Decorating and atmosphere with music etc is not the norm in these restaurants.
The foods are obviously completely different but so is the manner of eating and luckily Steven and Conrad had an English explanation of how things work so that there were no rugby scrums about eating each others food.
In the typical Chinese manner of eating each person does not get one dish to themselves. The food is placed in the centre of the table and everybody picks away at the different dishes and so shares the food.
Several different dishes were ordered with particular emphasis on ordering basic foods that cannot be brought to the table with heads or feet and other off putting parts proudly protruding from the dish.
All the dishes were placed in the centre of the table which has a large round piece of glass that turns. (I think we refer to something similar as a “lazy Susan”) The dishes are brought to the table one at a time which also helps to reduce the tendencies to blow a whistle and every body scrums down for grub. The chopsticks created a few laughs and gave those more apt to these drum sticks, the advantage over some dishes with small slippery pieces.
Chinese beer was unanimously approved as being good, probably because South African breweries are one of the major brewers in this region and not because we are bias.
The toilets at most public places are known to be challenging. They are mainly squatting toilets and the attempt at keeping them hygienic is with some very strong ammonia smelling chemical which is probably more intoxicating to anybody entering these WC’s rather than fatal to all the bad bugs. We have think it is this bad smell that has given the present headaches.
Later that evening we walked around and visited a few pubs with very western and American music. The night life is pretty much the same as most big cities with the younger teenagers getting all stoked that they were served alcohol and trying to impress their piers by smoking some dope etc. Our African brethren, the Nigerians, are also well established here and peddling their drugs openly. This is an extreme from what one would think these fanatically controlling Chinese authorities would tolerate. Maybe the Chinese underground is alive and well in the bureaucratic chambers of China.
The evening included dancing to Bob Marley and pink Floyd (Like I would know what the music was called) and went on into the early hours. We bid Steven and Conrad goodbye as they disappeared into the traffic in a small red taxi waving with big smiles on their faces indicating that a happy evening was had by all. If anybody has heard from them since please let us know. Ciao, Ricky Steven with two of “The Babes of Beijing” Chantal (left) and Debby (Right)
July 6 2004
Beijing
China
Hi From the Babe’s in Beijing
Alan’s brother, Steven and his colleague, Conrad are still missing and were last seen trying to toboggan down a section of the great wall of China. I bet you think that is a joke. Well it is not. (You can’t take South African’s anywhere.)
For safety reasons I have stayed away from those two but this evening we are going to meet Steven and will go out for some Peking Duck and who knows what or where we will have desert.
On the microlighting side, things are progressing and I am told the microlight is in Shanghai and will be flying to San Francisco this evening. I am making bookings to leave the babe’s in Beijing on Thursday 8th to San Francisco.
Here is something to think about:
I will take off from Beijing at approximately 11am on Thursday morning and after a 12 hour flight will land in San Francisco at 11 am on Thursday morning, the same day.
In 1982 I traveled around the world in a Westerly direction and gained a day and now I am traveling in an Easterly direction and am loosing one day. Does this mean there is hope of me be normal again?
For a minimal amount more I could visit Tokyo for two days but the *&&^^%$$# Japanese embassy like the Russian embassy will also not give a visa. It can only be done in your home country, South Africa. This seems to be a growing trend with these embassies. What a missed opportunity!
For some time arrangements have been going on in the back ground for a friend Martin Walker to meet me in San Francisco and fly with me from there. His microlight is being air freighted from South Africa and will arrive in San Francisco on the 8th and he will arrive on about the 15th.
Martin is a highly experienced microlight pilot who has done expeditions around Southern Africa and has for many years been involved in the organizational structures of microlighting. For several years as chairman of the Microlighting Association of South Africa he has been instrumental in the safe development of our sport in South Africa. We will be flying together in the USA and hopefully I will encourage him down into South America as well. His experience and guidance will be of great assistance to me and I am really pleased that he has managed to make arrangements to meet in the USA.
Soon it will be we again.
Cheers
Ricky
July 7 2004
Beijing
China
Hi from the no mad
We managed to extract Steven form his majestic hotel and got him out to dinner. It was decided to take him to a secluded restaurant in another old section of Beijing where the potential effect of bad behavior would be contained.
We had to navigate ourselves through an interesting maize of dark alleys and a few dilapidated buildings with the only signs being in Chinese squiggles. This turned out to be very interesting with an amazing atmosphere similar to Hou Hai and it’s Hutongs.
The roads/alleys are all tarred and reasonably clean. The buildings are built varying from 1m to 3m apart and all seem to face each other and they all have gable end wall. These gable walls have no windows as they are on the edge of the street with no pavements.
Some of the streets were just walking alleys as they were too narrow to drive a car down. The roofs are old clay tiles and the ridges have the typical Chinese upward curl at the ends. Most of the buildings are exposed brickwork and painted grey with the window and doorframes painted red. The street lighting is sparse with the occasional naked light bulb hanging outside some of the houses with people sitting around them. The women were wearing their pajamas and the men their shorts and no shirts. Many of them were playing cards or some form of Chinese dominos. It had a magnificent community atmosphere which we really enjoyed and after dinner we wondered around the old streets admiring the neighborhood’s interactions. Not many westerners wander down these streets so we were very much noticed by all the locals who smiled and occasionally someone would greet us with an English word or two and the rest would smile.
Down one of the streets we found what looked like a pub, ordered some beers and asked if we could sit out in the street like all the locals. Once they understood what we wanted, things turned into a huge flurry of furniture movement and soon we were appreciating a perfect evening in old world China. It was so interesting sitting there that even the conversation amongst ourselves was disjointed and slow because there was so much of the incredible and unusual environment to take in. We sat back, sipped our beers and enjoyed what felt like China in a different century. This was China at its best.
Our secret South African hostess, Ingrid, who has spent three years here with her daughters, explained how China is a continuous love/hate scenario. It is incredibly difficult and unusual and at the same time one loves it because it is so unusual and different.
Steven (Centre) Ingrid (Right)
Right now I am flying over the Pacific Ocean well on the way to San Francisco and can say that I have left China. My overall impression of China is that, as difficult as it was and as much as I did not handle parts of it well, it has definitely been a very interesting, positive country to have experienced and a lot of it is thanks to the support of the South African Embassy and Ingrid and her daughters Debby and Chantal.
Xie-Xie (Thank You)
Lets go find out what lies ahead for Martin and I in the US of A.
Ricky
July 8 2004
San Francisco
USA
Back in the US
In the US of A. What an incredible feeling to be here. Everything immediately feels as if it is back to normal.
The customs gave me a good once or twice over and were not sure about my story that I was here to fly a microlight in their country. As they checked through my lack of luggage they kept asking, “is this all you have?” I showed them maps and pictures and kept them entertained for a while and soon they shook their heads and sent me on my way. It is great to be able to communicate and negotiate without hand signals and drawing pictures.
Once again I felt like a country bumpkin who had come into town for the first time and was awestruck by the big signs and lights.
I was awestruck. I could read and understand everything, Wow! I spent ten minutes in a book shop just wallowing in all the exciting information that was easily understood and available. What a pleasure.
Before I made myself appear like too much of a weirdo I headed for the subway and into town to meet up with an old friend Mark who I grew up with in SA and now lives in San Francisco. His office is at the port on the Northerly end of town which is in an old warehouse that has been renovated and turned into plush offices. The building has maintained it’s rough warehouse look with exposed brickwork, steel roof structure with big open volume areas and finished in smooth high tech, clean looking details. It is very impressive and credit should be given to the designers with the foresight to see and bring out the potential of these old buildings. This is a trend in several cities around the world. Dirty old factory/warehouse areas are being renovated into offices and retro residential apartments fitted with all the high tech gismo’s of our techno world.
We said our hello’s, reminisced over some passed experiences and caught up on what we had been doing since we last met. These brought out many laughs of the crazy things we had done and how we don’t do irresponsible things anymore. This took a little extra explaining on my side but being a good friend he pretended to understand.
It is awesome to be in an environment that is so familiar. One gets an immense feeling of freedom primarily due to being able to understand everything. The large variety of choices and the facilities also makes things a lot easier.
It is great to be here.
Ciao
From a smiling Happy Chappy.
Ricky
July 12 2004
San Francisco
USA
Hi San Francisco
All going very well here. It is great to meet so many people and all of whom can relate to what I have been doing. What a pleasure.
A fun filled weekend was spent enjoying some of the abundance of pleasure’s available in America.
Saturday was wake boarding in what to me looked like a jetsetters paradise but is probably an average river development judging by the standards of things around here.
The boats are stored in a high warehouse on racks, five high, above each other. The owners request their boat and a forklift machine scurries off, finds the boat and brings it from the rack and places it in the water. There are a total of six hundred boats stored like this. If one needs fuel there is a fuel pump on the waters edge to drive the boat up to. No messy fuel cans and not much groveling goes into this form of boating.
Wake boarding is a single board the size of a snow board or large skateboard which is towed behind a ski boat and the skier rides around and ramps over the wake of the boat. It is reasonably easy because even I got up after a few attempts and things progressed to me being regularly splattered ungracefully on the waters surface feeling like my eyes were popping out of the back of my head. I was told I was doing well and with the encouragement of everybody’s laughter on the boat I continued trying. By the end of the day I felt like an uncoordinated twit and a lot worse for wear.
The following day was entertained with an exciting game of base ball. The game was between the Giants and Arizona Diamond Backs. It is probably not best to mention the outcome of the match or the words “hiding” or “whitewash” in the same sentence when talking to Arizona Diamond Backs.
The arrangement of the music and commentary has an excellent balance to ensure that everybody is entertained and kept interested in between delays in pitching and swapping teams.
Little Kendal, Marks daughter, choose to go to baseball with the boys.
Tomorrow is going to be filled with terrorizing the freighting company and customs to try and get hold of the trike.
Cheers
Ricky
July 13 2004
San Francisco
USA
All going too well here. I have even taken a laid back attitude to getting my trike from the freighting company. What will be will be! That was Monday.
Tuesday however had the freighting company manager picking me up and taking me to customs where I was told that an expedition around the world was a commercial operation and had to be done with this form and that blah, blah, blah. One customs senior manager later, and we were on our way to collect two wooden boxes which promised to become a trike if I worked hard at assembling it.
Transport was all organized at basement bargain prices and ended up at having to hire a pickup to get the trike to my absolute bestest friend, Mark’s, garage. What qualifies him as bestest friend, is his connection to a local brewery that make very interesting Apricot beer. It is very good and equally effective.
I recognize it as effective because right now I am struggling to patch words together.
Reminiscing about the good old days with Mark
Tomorrow and the next day is hard work at assembling the trike and trying to organize a million other things at the same time. Martin’s trike arrives here on Thursday and he follows closely behind on Friday. Things are not as organized as he would probably prefer but one pub with a dash of jet lag will mellow him into the modus operandi in the US of A.
It is best if this scribe were led to rest unto a time more conducive to coherent scripture.
Farewell
Ricardooooo.
July 18 2004
San Francisco
USA
Hi From the land of Uncle Sam
All still way too well here. It is getting harder by the day to get flying because things are so great here.
Martin arrived and much to his surprise I was all cool calm and collected at the airport to pick him up. Unbeknown to him I got lost on the subway several times trying to get to the airport and fortunately his flight was delayed which gave me time to gather composure and pretend that I was waiting for sometime. We sat down and quickly got ourselves stressed out that we had to get his trike "today", "right now" and get it to a hanger, and get a new mobile phone sim card, hotel and blah, blah and so we reved each other up until our bad influence friend, Mark, forced us into a pub.
This morning we were up early, meeting trucks at the airport and off loading Martin’s very smart looking trike and commencing it’s assembly. I was sent off to finish putting my flying contraption together, which is lying in pieces in Mark’s garage and get it over to the airport ASAP. Tomorrow we have a truck organised to get my flying garden furniture with its lawn mower engine off to the same hanger and hopefully we will have them up and flying on Tuesday.
In the background (and inspite of some criticism that my microlight seems to be assembling itself rather slowly) a lot has been happening. The hanger has been organised by EAA (Experiment Aircraft Association) member, Scotty, at Buchanan airport on the North East side of San Francisco.
A good South African boytjie, Wayne, has lent us a car which I have been driving around on the wrong side of the road much to the distress of any passenger in the car. Everyone is now pathetically refusing to travel in the car with me driving. Whimps! Stacks of details like maps, GPS upgrades and lots of socialising has been successfully concluded.
For the next few days we have a tight schedule which entails finishing the assembling of the trikes, braai (South African barbeque), planning the route, party, test flying the trikes and so on. If all does not go according to plan at worst we should head out of here at the end of next week into the Rocky Mountains enroute to Oshkosh.
Cheers
Ricky
July 21 2004
San Francisco
USA
Written By Mark Rogers
Letter from California. Ricky and Martin’s trikes are fully assembled now. Test flights around the airport are on the agenda for this afternoon. If all goes well, they are scheduled for take-off around 4:30am on Thursday for their 7 day jog across the continental divide and over to Oshkosh, WI.
Martin arrived late last week and immediately got stuck in re-assembling his machine (jetlag or no jetlag). Ricky and I showed up on Sunday morning at the hangar to find Martin lying beneath his beast up to his elbows in grease and oil and still dressed in the same clothes. He had worked through the night, and compared to the day before, the craft now looked vaguely familiar. Yes, it looked like a large two seated mutant Vespa scooter with wings.
Over at my house, Ricky and I loaded his box of bolts and pipes into a rented truck and took the whole lot down to the small airport in Concord where they planned to depart from on Thursday. At first Ricky’s plane looked more like a large leaf-blower, but once assembled and running, it took on the more familiar shape of an oversized shopping cart. Ricky assured me that his lawn chair arrangement on pipes was totally up to the task of flying again. When he fired it up, the wind from the prop nearly blew the gutters off the hangar next door.
The two pilots seem well rested now and are really keen to get the expedition underway again. Martin’s presence has re-inspired Ricky and instilled the sense of confidence and caution needed to proceed safely onto Oshkosh. They have spent the last few days working closely together building the rapport needed to support each other. Hopefully the Dept of Homeland Affairs (and all related Govt Agencies) will grant them the clearance so they can continue the celebration of 10 years of democracy in South Africa and 100 years of powered flight.
Mark Rogers
Mark keeping an eye on Martin
July 24 2004
Ogden
USA
San Francisco to Ogden
San Francisco was a fantastic experience where we met several South Africans and people who will hopefully become special friends.
My good old friend from South Africa, Mark Rogers was the driving force behind organizing us and getting things done.
The local EAA (Experimental Aircraft Association) members were also very helpful on arranging things on the aviation side and getting us on our way.
We plotted a course through the Rocky Mountains which took us over high mountains and terrain for three days. The first stop was in Reno Stead where they have annual air races. The aeroplane’s race each other extremely close to the ground as they have to fly between pylons on the ground. It looks very scary and apparently draws huge crowds to the show.
We bought petrol and decided to fly on to gain as much distance as possible which took us as far as a small town called Lovelock in the state of Nevada. The runway was about 20km out of town and fortunately we managed to get a lift in to buy petrol which also gave us the opportunity to scout around the town. We went into a real western saloon and I had a beer and non-drinking Martin (give me time I will break him in) had a cool drink.
Being foreign sounding we were easily able to crack up a conversation with a local couple who had lived in the town all their lives and had never traveled more than 50 miles away from the town. This was as fascinating for us as it was for them to hear what we were doing. We left encouraging them to be adventurous and travel further afield.
The evening was spent at the tiny airport building planning and programming GPS’s and later sleeping on the floor which was a first for Martin.
The next morning we headed east to Salt Lake City in the state of Utah. The flight took us over some high mountains and kept us at about 9500 ft most of the way. The area we were flying through was generally flat but at high altitude of about 6000ft with mountains of about 3000ft above ground. It is semi-desert ground and is difficult to imagine that it gets covered in snow in winter. The higher mountains still had some snow on them which made it very picturesque.
We flew across Salt Lake Desert where we understand they do the land speed record attempts. It is a huge and very flat salt pan.
We landed at Ogden which is a smaller airport North of Salt Lake City. Arranged fuel and then went to the airport building to scout out the lay of the land. Martin got chatting to an oriental looking gentleman and I left with the task of trying to convince the lovely lady at the car hire counter to either lend us a car at no charge or to take us home with her. She laughed at my audacity and said we stood more chance with the car. While I was trying to recover from this huge rejection, Martin was being introduced by this gentleman to several other people. Soon we were bundled into a car and driven off to meet more people who were at a nearby hanger. When we got there, much to my amusement, we were introduced by this oriental gentleman to other people as the Father and Son team flying microlights….. Well! Martin’s nose got so far out of joint that I thought it was going to be relocated to the back of his head. I tried to explain to him that oriental people see us as being very similar looking and as such, have difficulty judging ages. It took a few minutes for him to stop snorting and he recovered to the point that now he is ok with me calling him Dad.
Everyone there was very friendly and keen to chat. It was interesting to hear that so many of them had heard about the expedition. We were treated to supper and some locally brewed beer that even Martin enjoyed. That evening was also spent in the airport building so that we could leave very early in the morning.
The reason why we fly so early is because that is when the weather is the calmest and the heat of the day has not yet built up to develop thermals which make flying very bumpy and uncomfortable.
The next morning it was off across even higher mountains to Casper.
Cheers
Ricky
July 25 2004 Martin
Oshkosh
USA
Safreedomflight is a dream. To Ricky and Alan it was a reality and they have embodied the ability of turning a dream into a reality. Those of us that have these dreams could only deal with the envy of Ricky and Alan setting off in December last year by living through them, wishing them well and following their progress.
I had bought the trike that I have, to take part in the Marco Polo Rally that was planned to start in Paris and end in Beijing. Ironically when I realised that the event was not to be a reality in the short term, I called Ricky to plan a microlight adventure. I knew that Ricky was an adventurous spirit but was shocked when he told me that he was about to leave on an around the world microlight expedition.
I find myself here in the middle of the USA, have already flown nearly 1000 miles in three days. My dream has become a reality and I am truly living it day after day. I feel hugely privileged to fly and to be part of this expedition for the eight or ten weeks that I expect to accompany Ricky. My plane was thoroughly overhauled and checked by five of the Solo Wings Team (Microlight manufacturers) and I am very appreciative of their co-operation and thanks to Aiden for making it all happen. They dismantled the trike so that it would fit in an airfreight box 72cm wide by 3 meters long and 1.3 meters high. The box was airfreighted to San Francisco and after twenty-one hours of flying a smiling and well suntanned Ricky met me. Within a short space of time I realised that I had joined up with a very capable man. His ability and experience of operating in foreign countries is immediately evident. Knowing where to go, city maps, cell phone connection, driving on the wrong side of the road and dealing with bureaucracy are just a few of his attributes.
I was introduced to two of Ricky’s South African friends that have been living in San Francisco for more than ten years. Theses ex Cape Town folks were so delighted to meet up with fellow South Africans and they all started talking to each other as if they were Cape Coloureds (Indigenous people of the Cape area). This banter between friends went on for days and was highly amusing. Our trikes arrived safely, but what a mammoth task to reassemble them single-handed from scratch. It looks so easy when someone else is doing it. Fortunately I had taken a series of photos, which saved to day. The most difficult part was that Buchanan Airport is made up of more than 300 private planes and their owners, and these folk had been told about Ricky’s expedition and so many of them were so interested and intrigued by these funny craft that it was very difficult not to be rude, so we spent many hours talking instead of assembling the trikes. We ended up working at night and on one occasion right through the night.
On one of the days we spent the whole morning doing paper work to satisfy the legal requirements of their FAA, then a two hour briefing on flying procedures in the US which are the same but also very different to home. We were aloud to test fly out planes and were thrilled to be aloud to fly what they call the bay cruise to see the Golden Gate Bridge. Ricky took a passenger and I took his friend Mark. It took us an hour to fly the route, we just saw the bridge through the mist but took some great pictures from the air of the city and Alcatraz. Our passengers were as delighted with the experience as we were.
On Thursday we set off from Buchanan Airport and passed over beautiful Sacramento and then over the Sierra Mountains. We landed and refueled at Reno Stead which is where the annual aircraft pylon races take place. Our first night was at Lovelock in the Nevada Desert and then a long haul across more desert to Salt Lake City where we stayed at pilots facilities at Ogden Airport which was our landing place near to Salt Lake City.
Today we had another long haul over the Rocky Mountains. We were in the air for five and a half hours nonstop, mostly at 9500ft, some at 11500ft and for a while at 13500ft. Yes it was very cold, sometimes my shiver made the whole plane shake.
Rocky mountains
We finally came down to earth and landed at Casper International Airport. The Air Traffic Controller to whom we had apologised for scratchy radio procedure, befriended us and brought us fuel from the nearby gas station and then offered us a night at his house, washing done and then an attempt to update the website and the local press arrived and drove us back to the airport for a picture of our planes. Ricky handles the press like a famous movie star, they love every word he says. He has the most amazing experiences to draw on.
This adventure has been and is hard work for Ricky, I can see that it is a cycle of very early mornings, the flying is the easier part, it’s the getting of motor gas not avgas, usually two or three trips to the garage with twenty litre cans, its tying the planes down, covering them, packing washing, talking to people , a huge pressure to compose the days news to be posted in the web site and then to get to bed early is almost impossible. The experience is amazing, the people are so friendly and the ever changing vast scenery is worth every minute of the day. I am so pleased to be part of this dream and I will do my best to share it with anyone that is interested.
Oshkosh is on the horizon, we have pages of notams to study to make sure that we follow the procedures correctly to get in there. I understand that we will be two of fifteen to twenty thousand planes that will be flying into the show.
Ricky is snoring like a chain saw on the floor so I must get some sleep too.
Martin
July 25 2004
Casper
USA
Howdy From Cowboy Countree.
Here we are in the middle of the United States of A Merica. We haven’t replaced our helmets with wide brimmed cowboy hats and the flying suits with jeans and pointed leather boots yet but things are kinda gettin close to that.
We are in a town called Casper in the centre of the state of Wyoming which is on the Eastern side of the Rocky Mountains. It is a very high area with the runway at 5400ft. From here it is two more hours and then we are flying down to the lower ground levels which makes take offs and landings easier and also fuel consumption lower.
Today we had to fly very high to get over ten thousand foot mountains and also to stay above the turbulence. Most of the flight was at 9500ft and gradually escalated to 12000ft. Some of the mountain tops have snow on them so you can imagine how cold it gets at high altitude.
Every now and then Martin squeaks on the radio about how awesome the scenery is and I ask him what he is referring to. It is good to have him seeing these things through fresh eyes because one becomes accustomed to the amazing scenery and he forces me to look and appreciate it which is great.
Things are going well and we are flying 300 to 400 miles per day to get to Oshkosh Airshow next to Lake Michigan.
There are a few rather serious hiccups that we are having to contend with which are that our radios are giving trouble. I have been working on mine with the assistance of two avionics boffins along the way. We have been operating on backup radios so far.
While I was doing this work on the radios I managed to blow an internal fuse on the engine monitoring system just to add to the frustrations. We hope to be able to repair this in Oshkosh.
The best part about the radio issue is that I am doing the radio work but have lost my voice over the last two days so when I talk slowly it is fine but the minute I try and talk faster or louder I loose my voice totally which makes it difficult for the air traffic controllers. Not only do they have difficulty with our accents but now they have to understand it being spoken sounding like a frog.
Tomorrow we are flying North East towards Rapid City to see the Crazy Horse ( the face of a famous Red Indian who was called Crazy Horse) being sculptured out of the mountain and hopefully also Mount Rushmore which has the four presidents faces sculptured in the Mountain.
Mount Rushmore
It is fantastic to be up and flying again and getting places. It is very motivating and I am getting excited about flying into Oshkosh.
Cheers
Ricky
July 26 2004
Albert Lea
USA
Hi From Deep in the USA.
Firstly apologies for the lack of updates. Things have become a big frenzy to fly out of amazing San Francisco and get to the Oshkosh Air show on the other side of USA on time.
We thought we could easily update along the way but a big No, No. In the land that invented the Internet it is difficult to get access to the Internet because everybody has one in their homes so it is not necessary to have it available to disgustingly scruffy public individuals like us. That is unless one is prepared to have smelly skunks like us in your home. Smelly skunks is a result of the fly we have been doing for four days on a trot.
We are at a town called Albert Lea which is 200 miles west of Oshkosh. We flew for 10 hours and 40 minutes today to make sure we get to the air show on time. Stacks of stuff to write about and I will get onto it ASAP. Flying through the Rocky Mountains, over Mount Rushmore (the presidents faces carved in the mountain) and the huge open plains to the East.
The plan is to fly into Oshkosh tomorrow which will mark a massive mile stone for the expedition. Up to China we flew 40 800km and from San Francisco it is 3000km. It will be the world record of the longest microlight expedition. Oshkosh is also an amazing conglomeration of flying fanatics so it will be week of playing with big airplane toys.
Will update juicy stuff soon.
Ricky
July 26 2004
Albert Lea
USA
Today was a big day. We left Casper and headed North East to find the Crazy Horse carving out of the mountain side and the Rushmore Monument of the four presidents faces.
We located them easily and they were very impressive. Took photographs of them and headed on towards Sioux Falls. Being unsure if we had enough fuel to get that far, we decided to followed highway 90 Eastwards as it had several alternative runways along the way. We flew as far as possible which took us to a town on the west side of Sioux Falls called Mitchel in the state of South Dakota. The wind was blowing over twenty knots when we landed which made us concerned about continuing.
Most of the airports here have a computer available where pilots can look up the current and forecast weather all over the country. It indicated very little wind further along the route so we refueled and headed on. We flew from town to town each time convincing ourselves that we may as well go onto the next. Eventually when the sun was getting low on the horizon we landed at a town called Albert Lea in the most perfect and windless conditions. We had flown for a total of 10 hours and 30 minutes and covered 600 nautical miles.(+-695 stat miles).
As we landed a gentleman came up to me and said, “Don’t tell me you are the South African microlighters?” and I apologized and admitted that we were.
His name was Mr Jim Hanson, a well established American pilot who had flown to the Antartic and back in 1999 in a Cessna Caravan. He was aware of our expedition and we had stacks to chat about.
He showed around his state of the art business jets that he hires and sells and later bravely took us to his house where we exchanged stories late into the evening.
Cheers
Ricky
July 27 2004
Oshkosh
USA
We bid Jim Hanson farewell and flew to a town called Dell which was one hour away from Oshkosh. We landed there and phoned the organizers at Oshkosh and made arrangements for us to fly in. We got to Oshkosh and were very warmly received by the organizers. It was fantastic to have made it and at the same time difficult, remembering the many conversations Alan and I had about getting here.
We were shown around and given an overview of the displays. This is really a huge and well organized event. There is every conceivable shape or form of flying gadgets here. Right back from the Wright Brothers era to the most advanced military machines.
We have spent many hours walking around looking at displays, listening to talks about engine maintenance and lots of socializing with the South African group here. Last night we had a potjie (a three legged cast iron pot placed onto an open fire and used to cook a stew) with them which was really lekker (nice).
Martin and I are making plans as to where to fly to next. We will stay here for a few more days and formulate a plan.
Cheers
Ricky
July 29 2004
Oshkosh
2004
Howdy from Oshkosh.
We have made it to Oshkosh. This is a Big Bingo for the Freedom Flight Expedition. The World record is now a 43800km microlight expedition. This record is important mainly from the point of view of highlighting what has been achieved on this expedition and will hopefully draw attention to the unique and exciting travel adventure we have undertaken. The primary spirit behind this adventure has been to encourage and motivate as many people as possible to pursue their own dreams and ideals as we have.
Oshkosh is a huge and very exciting airshow with lots of toys. There are about 50 South Africans with whom we are Kuiering (partying) and so far everyone has been well behaved.
I am at a 15 minunte internet so will have to frustratingly say farewell.
Cheers
Ricky
July 31 2004 Martin
Oshkosh
USA
Update Oshkosh, Martin Walker, 31 07 2004.
Oshkosh is everything that you could expect of aviation and a whole lot more. I understand that there are between twelve and fifteen thousand planes parked here. Nobody is quite sure because it would take a week to count.
Ricky and I were blessed with very good weather all the way from San Francisco to Oshkosh. We thought that the flight to Oshkosh would take six or seven days and we were able to do it in four. On our third day we flew from Casper International Airport to Albert Lea, a distance of 1120km in 10 hours 30 minutes. This country is so vast that my ‘cabbage patch’ has been significantly extended. This leg was like flying from Johannesburg to Durban and back in one day. It sounds a lot but part of the adventure of this trip is that when we wake up in the morning we don’t know how far we will get, where we will sleep or whom we will meet.
After we had done 850 km we realized that with such perfect conditions we should try to get as close to Oshkosh as possible and do another 300 km. I terms of my home boundaries this was a huge extra distance but with the help of a 20 km per hour tailwind all day the distance and time flitted away quite effortlessly.
Oshkosh is in Wisconsin on the edge of Lake Winnebago and yes, it is the home of Oshkosh trucks. Oshkosh’s Airport is also the host venue of the Experimental Aircraft Association (EAA) annual convention for the last 52 years. The EAAers welcome everyone with an interest in aviation to their annual convention, which has become the world’s premier celebration of flight. Each year participants from all aspects of aviation come to Oshkosh to proudly show and share their contributions to aviation’s future. They debut their innovations at Oshkosh not only because it is one of the largest aviation gatherings in the world, but also because it encompasses the full spectrum of aviation.
When people think about the future of anything, what comes to mind most often is hardware and technology, the tools we use to move forward. But really, the future is about people, especially in aviation, because they create the innovations that we soon take for granted, and they inspire others to get involved and do the same at all levels. This is the spirit of EAA participation.
Ask any pilot in the world about ‘Oshkosh’ and you will either get a lustful promise to attend one day or an encyclopedia of stories from each year he or she has made the pilgrimage, it is a special place for aviation enthusiasts.
Then there are the people – more than 750,000 each year. EAA is a big family of aviation-minded kin who make quick friends with other airplane folks. They form neighbourhoods that reappear every year in the campgrounds, they reunite with long lost friends, and they volunteer their time to make sure the event runs smoothly and without a hitch. The organisation is very slick. The campsites are massive and the caravans are like we have never seen before. Some of these caravans are like Greyhound busses that have been customized into mobile houses, the sides stretch outwards to form rooms and the suspension squats down so that they are low to the ground.
Ricky and I are thrilled to be here and yesterday morning we woke up to find our colour picture with a one page article on page twelve of the Oshkosh Daily Show Newspaper. We have been received with great enthusiasm especially by the Ultralight community.
South African trike adventurers Ricky De Agrela (left) and Martin Walker covered more than 27,000 miles during their journey to EAA AirVenture 2004. Photo by Dave Higdon
When we landed the Chairman and many of his committee were at the runway to meet us. We were shown where to park our trikes and a journalist and photographer were asking questions and snapping photos. We were given red wristbands to wear and only later realized that this was a free pass to access to any part of the show and camping grounds for the duration of the show. These red bands would have cost a substantial amount. At 6am yesterday Ricky and I had to attend a show pilots briefing so that we could take part in flying in the ultralight section of the air show. We flew a strict pattern in the afternoon while the commentator told the crowd of Ricky and Alan’s epic flight to be here at Oshkosh. We were given a beautiful glass beer mug, which is inscribed with words to the effect that we had been an ‘Oshkosh Air Show Participant’. A surprisingly large number of the aviation public here have been following the www.safreedomflight.com website and were fully aware of Alan’s accident. Many have expressed that it is great that Ricky has decided to carry on the adventure and that it is what Alan would have wanted to happen. It is a great pity that Alan is not here to revel in the Spirit of Oshkosh but he is in the hearts of so many people and his parents Jocelyn and Roy Honeyborne can feel very proud of there son’s determination and achievements. He flies with us, Ricky speaks of Alan regularly and he will not be forgotten.
Each day of the Show here consists of a never ending spectacular Air Show. We have seen the most amazing precision aerobatic flying, we have seen a Harrier Jump Jet vertically land and take off, F15 and 16s, a Galaxy troop carrier that even taxis backwards. There are static displays of planes of every shape and size. There are stalls of suppliers of aviation related goods and services like we have never seen before. There is a daily program of more than 500 educational forums, seminars, and workshops that are held a various venues throughout the week. You have to chart your own course with the Info Guide, a pocket-size dictionary of everything that’s going on for the seven days. Ricky and I have been to many of these educational forums including maintenance on our motors and an interesting talk from the Rutan brothers on their private space mission.
We have also had Rotax people checking out our equipment and adjustments are being undertaken to improving our transmission and reception on our radios. We have come across the South African visitors (about 40 of) who are all at the same campsite and very well organised. They have there own logistics hut and the usual Kalahari type of campsite fire and braai (barbeque) are a magnet to our species and also to surrounding American campers that can not resist but to join in with the jokes and happy South African ‘gees!!’ The end of Oshkosh is now in sight, some of our fellow flying campers are checking out the weather to fly back to where they have come from and our own plans of our next leg to follow the Mississippi to the sea are starting to fall into place.
Martin
Aug 2 2004
Oshkosh
USA
Hi from the aviation centre of the world.
The exhibition has been very interesting and at times equally exciting. The air show is organized by the Experimental Aircraft Association with majority of the work and help being done by volunteers. Things run like clockwork and are extremely well organized. The airport has two large runways and the grassed area on the side of the runways covered in aircraft of all sizes and shapes. Figures have been mentioned of there being over 17000 aircraft at the show. There are old vintage planes to the latest high tech and weird looking contraptions. Every aviation business has a stand at the show which is great to catch up on what is available etc.
The aircraft are continuously flying displays throughout the day. There are always lots of planes in the air all at the same time. At one stage I counted twenty five aircraft above the runway all flying in different directions, altitudes and speeds.
Some aircraft will do stomach turning aerobatics, then a jet thunders passed, then massive explosions are fired off on the ground and on the side are helicopters and ultralights flying and this goes on all day. Asian air traffic controllers who keep aircraft 5 nautical miles apart should be here to see how this works.
Martin and I did a flight around the ultralight circuit just so we can say we were part of the Oshkosh air show. (Oversized egos on small planes)
We were parked on the ultralight grass runway area and camped there for the week. Martin was OK with this groveling. He is a bit of a proper fellow but is handling this low life quite well so far. He has also managed the long flights and airport accommodation with its al carte menu (what ever is in the vending machine) and no longer minds me calling him dad.
Something that is important to mention. When we were flying out in the sticks (24th July) it was Martin’s birthday. He turned 51 years old. I think that is great to be 51 and flying a microlight across the Rocky Mountains in a foreign country. That’s a spirit of adventure.
We did lots of socializing with the South African group on tour here. We even got Martin to drink beer.
We have met stacks of interesting people here. I was really pleased to meet up with Jon Johanson and his wife Sue. Alan and I met Jon in Adelaide.
Jon Johanson and Sue
He put together a group of pilots here who had either flown around the world or were busy flying around the world. It was great to chat to them and share stories and laugh about the egotistical little bureaucrats of the world. There was a unanimous dislike of all the unnecessary bureaucracy. One pilot from Spain, Miguel, had flown in a Cessna 182 around the world.
We spend a few days having fun with a pilot, Hans, who lives in Vancouver who has flown from there to the southern end of Chile and back up to Greenland and then turned around and came back to Oshkosh. He is now on his way back to Vancouver. His web page is members.shaw.ca/spiritonashoestring
I was also very lucky to meet a pilot, Matzev, from Slovenia with whom I was in contact with when I was in China. He was stuck in Mongolia because the Chinese cancelled his clearance and he had to divert and fly along the Russian side of the border. He made it through to Oshkosh. He is flying a motorglider around the world. It was amazing to be associated with these pilots and at the same time it was sad that Alan was not here to share this.
Hans and Matzev
From here we are going to fly South to Chicago where we will stay for two or three days while we have the microlight engines inspected by the Rotax experts in a town called Lyon which is about an hour North of Chicago. My engine is running very well but it is best to have it checked out before we head on.
The plan is to fly West from there to the Mississippi river and fly South down the river all the way to New Orleans, the birth place of Jazz music. We are gonna tap dance in Bourbon Street and lounge around the Louis Armstrong park singing a bo bap, a bo bap, a bo bap a doo and all dat jazz.
Cheers from Razz ma tazz Rick
Aug 5 2004
Chicago
USA
Hi from Chi Cago
We left Oshkosh and flew South in perfect weather. The ground here is all low lying and very flat with huge corn farms covering the ground as far as the eye can see. There are lots of runways everywhere which makes it so easy to fly along and have a wee stop wherever we feel like it.
The radios are still temperamental after many hours work at trying to solve the problem.
Today we were supposed to fly back to Lyons to have our engines inspected and hopefully repair the dickey communications but mother nature would not have it. The thunder and rain made even us realize that it is not flyable today. We will try again tomorrow.
We are planning to go down to Mexico and visit the Maya ruins (can someone write a message educating us on this history please) and then continue the original route we had planned returning up the Caribbean. The weather there promises to be interesting.
Chow for now
Ricky
Aug 6 2004
Alan’s mom Jocelyn Honeyborne
Port Elizabeth
South Africa
A Message from Alan's Mother, Jocelyn Honeyborne
A couple of months ago, I received a call from a lady who felt sure that I would know who she was. Her daughter attends the Waldorf School in Stellenbosch and she returned from school and showed her Mom her new school project. Her mom was most interested and when she had read all about the Freedom Flight project that was going to be done by grade 7 class, she shreaked with delight and said "But that's my Alan!". She then explained to her daughter that she was Alan's teacher in Std 2 at Grey Junior School, PE. And of course we remembered her. As a geography project the class would follow the trip of Ricky and Alan, and at the same time they would be learning a vast amount about the world and the far away places that were included in Freedom Flight.
After the Alan's tragic accident I felt sure that they would give up the project and I just left it at that. But then Roy and I received a fat envelope, and in it were 11 beautifully handmade, illustrated and written cards. Each of these children had taken the trouble to sit down and write to us, and there was one from the teacher too. They each had a different picture on the front of the card, some were flowers and some were microlights, and inside the most wonderful caring and kind words of sympathy and encouragement. We were really touched by the thought that each one of them took the trouble to think about us and send us those cards. And in nearly all of them the words were written, "and we are going to continue the trip in his honour". So they will finish the project.
I have written to each one of these children : Amber, Megan, Jessica, Avuya, Michael, George, Neil, Kasa, Courtney, Katleho and their teacher Miss Vanda van Speyk, to thank them and I thought that Ricky and Martin would like to hear the story too.
Joc
Aug 7 2004
Chicago
USA
Hello From Chicago
The mean storm carried on over night and in the morning we flew up to the Rotax motor expert whom we have come here to meet. His name is Ken Rivers and was recommended to us from several people around America. We wanted him to inspect our motors and do some tests check that all is running well.
It was blowing a cool twenty knots head wind and we flew to his airfield Westoshia at a town called Wilmot. It took us over two hours to get there because of a headwind. I climbed to ten thousand feet to try and find a tail wind or even less wind but no luck. Normally one is able to find different winds at those altitudes but it was not to be, so we plugged into it and watched as the ground move very slowly underneath us. It gets so frustrating. It is like sitting and watching a blade of grass grow. It was important that Ken inspected the motors before we carry on especially as mine has been traveling a long way across the sky for nearly eight months now.
I looked at the engine surrounded by a spider web of pipes, wires and cables and got totally lost in the thoughts of the amazing places and the huge distance that it has taken us. Mount Kilimanjaro, Serengeti plains and the deserts of Africa. The Himalayas of Nepal, Burmese jungle, Mangroves of Indonesia across the vast Timor Sea to Australia and back. Through the Laos mountains to Vietnam and China and the Rocky Mountains of America. That is a long way even to travel in a jet. The world is huge when you travel so slowly. Excuse me but I am having a reminiscing moment. Ok! Ok! Space cadet returning to reality.
Super organized Ken stuck the thermometers, enemas, brain scans and gauges all over the engine and it was diagnosed as in perfect condition and ready for another 45000 km around the world. Everything was done so scientifically and to perfection unlike my couple of spanners and a four pound hammer that I use to fix the engine with.
As Ken was quietly grunting, swearing and happily working away on the engine I wondered around and found some T-Shirts with his companies name on it. It is called Skies the Limit which I thought could be fitting (excuse the pun) for us to wear so I asked him to look the other way while I borrowed two shirts. He looked away so now Martin and I have two new T-shirts with Skies the Limit printed on them.
We flew back to Cushing airfield outside Chicago and this time the tail wind got us there in only 45 minutes. We decided to stay another day and see Chicago as tourists. Martin was out firing away with all cameras and lots of “got to get a shot of this”, comments. He was like a 51 year old child in a big play pen. I have got to admit, he took some awesome photographs.
Cheers
Ricky
Aug 11 2004 Martin Walker
New Orleans
USA
We have flown across the USA and already have Mexico in our sights. From Oshkosh to New Orleans has been amazingly flat, no place above 1000 ft. The farming is intensive with every inch of land fully developed. The Mississippi takes the longest possible meandering route to get to New Orleans.
In Chicago we were hosted by Khaliq Rehman, one of the kindest men I have ever met. Khalig took three days off work to entertain us. He has ridden a bicycle around the world when he was a much younger man so he understood exactly what it was like to be our kind of traveler. He opened his house, laundry, kitchen and Internet to us with a great satisfaction in giving. He invited his friends to meet us and we did a power point slide presentation at the University where he works. We were shown around Chicago City, which is immaculately clean with magnificent sky scrapers and very friendly people. The crime rate is very low and far removed from the days of El Capone.
From Chicago we flew out of Cushing Airfield heading for Memphis, after a couple of hours Ricky came on to the radio to say that he thought we should land at Hillsboro Airfield to which I agreed only to find that Ricky's bladder was severely stretched. I landed a few minutes after Ricky and found him stripping of his clothes because although he says while in the air he wasn't bursting, once on the ground his urge became intense and he couldn't get the equipment out fast enough and ended up spraying all over his suit!! We laughed, lay in the sun, ate breakfast bars and coke then up into the heavens until we reached Memphis with limited reserves of fuel.
In Memphis, (the town of Elvis) we had arrived late because of a delayed start so we pitched our tents on the edge of the runway. We were lent an airport courtesy car to fetch over 200 liters of fuel, three trips with our 25 liter containers. American Airports are very hospitable to private aviation and pilots. No charge for use of courtesy car and no landing fees, rest rooms and free computer access for weather.
As soon as the sun was down we were rummaging through our first aid kit to find Mosquito repellent which we couldn't find. The tents were soon firmly zipped to keep the pests out. In the morning we made an early start to New Orleans. This was a huge non stop distance, all at about 9,000ft because of the head wind at low altitude, the cold is determined to fray our lips and even the lip ice carefully removed from the chest pocket was too cold to smear. I took spectacular video footage of our planes flying next to on top of and underneath beautiful puffy clouds. Although we had been in the air for six and a half hours non stop, the time and miles passed by very quickly, the plane is comfortable the air was perfectly still and every now and then Ricky would come on the chat channel with a string of jokes. I think there were a few farmers on the same frequency that enjoyed the joker with a foreign accent.
Our arrival into Lake Front Airport was out of the movies, as we entered New Orleans the humidity caused the visibility to deteriorate rapidly and the approach was over the water with not too much distinction between the water and the surrounding mist. The communications between our selves and the air-traffic control tower were intense with Lear Jets taking off and landing, there are three active runways. Our instructions were specific and I was glued to Ricky's right wing until we could see our 09 runway. As we approached the runway New Orleans City appeared out of the mist and I took a number of photos only to find that my camera had misted up as a result of coming from the cold at high altitude to a very hot humid environment.
After landing we caused quite a stir with in the airport staff as they had never seen "ultralights come into this airport". We had been detected on radar via the transponder and when they saw all our equipment, radios, gps etc. they were amazed and intrigued. Yesterday we spent the day preparing the planes for high winds on the ground, fixed new and additional tether points on the wing tips and had aviation spec radio cables replaced between the radios and the antennas.
The couplings were also replaced which will hopefully increase our transmission strength and distance. Much thanks to Sony of Auric Avionics.
Last night we took a three hour ride on a genuine steam driven paddle boat, it was a beautiful evening, served with dinner and a live jazz band while we steamed up and down the Mississippi River. From the boat we walked to the famous Bourbon Street which was alive with people, pubs,and loud jazz bands up and down the streets.
Today we have caught up with correspondence on the Internet and have been planning our route and clearances to Columbia, Venezuela and back via the Caribbean Islands. I have just taken delivery via UPS of a Garmin 196 Gps to take the place of the Pilot 3 so that I can see the lettering on the screen easier especially when the light is not good. The 196 also has a mass of airport information and frequencies that are necessary information to have when entering a new and controlled air space that we are not familiar with. We have also been keeping a weary eye one two hurricanes, one in the Mexican Gulf (Bonnie) and another in the Caribbean (Charlie). The Hurricanes are named in alphabetical order each season and in alternating male and female names. There are usually five to nine per season. Some of our weather information is via www.accuweather.com. which is extremely comprehensive. Have a look at the site and if you punch in the town that you are at, it gives the forecast for that area of interest up to ten days ahead. It looks like we should head west in the morning towards Houston away from the weather which we are advised will deteriorate with the onset of the second hurricane (Charlie) that is in the Caribbean heading for Miami north of us.
Martin Walker
Aug 11 2004
New Orleans
USA
Hi From New Orleans
Chicago was a great stopover where we met some really nice people and were well spoilt. We bid our farewells and headed South to meet up with the Mississippi river. There was a head wind which forced us to fly at 9500ft but was perfectly smooth conditions. We made it as far as Memphis where we were offered the airport courtesy car to ferry our containers to buy petrol for the trikes. These American airports are so amazing and well organized. These courtesy cars are available at most airports for pilots to use and it is at no cost. This USA is great.
We slept next to the trikes to make an early start which turned out to be a little later than intended. Martin is still streamlining his packing and repacking logistics which we are working on. There is still a lot of “might need that” stuff amongst his luggage which is slowly disappearing. Alan and I obviously refined these processes over time and it is interesting to realize how important it is to have these dynamics organized. If we are delayed at take off and at landing it changes the day from having several opportunities to do new things, chat to people and visit a new town, to not having any time left in the day because it is dark and the refueling has to be left for the next day which then delays that day and so on. This process is as much of a realization to me as it is a learning curve for Martin. I am mentioning this for pilots who plan to do long expedition flights to benefit and appreciate the importance of being organized. It is also important from a safety point of view to have the confidence that everything is exactly where and how it should be and then concentrate on the flight in a relaxed frame of mind.
From Memphis we headed South to New Orleans. We flew to an airport called Lakefront Airport which has a radio workshop where we could have our radios looked at. We got to the airport and were shuffled around from one end to the other to find parking as the airport is privately run by three different companies and nobody wanted us. Fortunately we are accustomed to rejection normally because we smell bad or look disgusting so we were not too affected. We eventually landed up conveniently parking next to the radio workshop where our radios were sorted out by Sonny, the radio technician, the following day.
This time there was no courtesy car at our disposal. Damn! We had to arrange a taxi into town which got me a bit edgy because of our many experiences with Asian taxis. I interrogated the taxi driver for a while before we got into the car and was surprised as to how easy it is when taxi drivers speak English. The driver, an African American, was very nice about my unreasonable approach and explained that it was a set fee. He had a nice comment about the cost.
“My man! It is only 18 dollars and what ever is left in your heart” which meant he would appreciate a tip.
We took a walk down Bourbon street in the old French Quarter listening to the different Jazz playing in each pub and restaurant, appreciating the old buildings and atmosphere of the area. A few things have changed since yesteryear, like the pubs are not filled with cigar smoke anymore and the tap dancers were out of step (they were not there). There are now a fair amount of “houses of ill repute” which makes for great eye candy but these are lacking in the finesse of the beautiful Thai ladies of Phuket. Are we becoming experts on the ladies of the night? This is a scary notion. Just to nip those questioning thoughts in the bud, no we have not even been tempted to go down that avenue.
There are many human statues who are really good. These are people who stand absolutely still as if they were statues. One was climbing a step ladder and balancing on it while being perfectly still. This was the most impressive one. There was one man who was painted in gold and was perfectly still. I walked passed him slowly admiring him closely when suddenly he moved and shouted which made me jump out of my skin with fright. It was so hilarious and I felt like such a twit with so many people around laughing. He also enjoyed it. He said, “I got ja good man. Give me a high five and a little someing in my bucket, man”. I put aside my miserly instincts and gave him something because he was so good.
The next day we went for a ride down the Mississippi on an old steam boat which had a jazz band playing and had a real cool atmosphere. I really enjoy jazz and this was an amazing experience. I could not resist sharing it with someone back home so I phoned an “old” friend with the cell phone, who I knew would not hate me for the rest of his life if I woke him up in the middle of the night with my crazy antics.
Mississippi steam boat
Philip was fast asleep and fortunately not with his new found girlfriend as these types of things can destroy new relationships. He was a bit grumpy but I got him to listen and told him, “You have just heard live brass band playing real Jazz music on a steam boat going down the Mississippi river. Is it not great the things you can experience with modern technology”?
His reply was “Listen you &%$#*& fruit cake. It is 3 am here and I am @#$% sleeping”.
What a friend? No appreciation for the things I do for him.
We are preparing to leave tomorrow en-route west towards Mexico and are a little concerned about two interesting looking cyclones called Bonnie and Charlie which are coming in this direction. We hope by flying westwards that we will get away from their effect. The flight back up the Caribbean should prove to be interesting as it will be cyclone season. Hum! Interesting.
Chow for Now
Ricky
Aug 12 2004
Houston
USA
Hi from Huston
We flew out of New Orleans today with very low cloud and remained at 500 ft above ground for nearly two hours before the weather improved and the cloud base lifted. We departed in these conditions because there is a large cyclone on its way to Florida which will effect New Orleans. It started off with a head wind and progressively improved as did the weather as we flew West.
After a six hour flight we landed at an airfield called Pearland which is South of Houston. We have been abducted by a South African who now lives here in Houston. Ons is besig om lekker Afrikaans te praat en ek sukkel om nie soos n Kapie te praat nie.
Tomorrow we aim to fly to Laredo which is an international airport on the Mexican border where we will clear out and fly into Mexico the following day. This will be Martins first flight across an international boundary and he is excited about it but is acting all cool.
Admittedly I am also looking forward to country hopping as I have been struggling with a bad bout of home sickness and I think it is because the people and life here in America are so good and the environment is so comfortable and familiar that it makes me feel at home.
Cheers
Ricky
Aug 13 2004
Laredo
USA
Howdy From Deep Down in Texas.
We bid our new found South African friend, Mark Allen and his wife Kim, goodbye and headed South to a town called Laredo on the USA side of the Mexican border. It was a short four hour, smooth and uneventful flight over perfectly flat ground. When we got to the Laredo airport control zone I contacted the tower and we caused the usual chaos by calling in and the ATC expected us to land within two or three minutes when we still had about twenty minutes to go. The standard responses letting him know our ETA (Estimated Time of Arrival) etc quickly sorted things out and soon we were on the ground with the trikes in a huge hanger in between Lear jets, Citation jets and other state of the art corporate toys.
Several people were interested in what we were up to and soon the TV reporters were called in and we were interrogated on camera to assess our sanity (In other words we were interviewed). We put on my make up and South African cap and did our best PRO bit for our homeland.
While at the airport we met up with a Mexican pilot who gave us advice where best to enter Mexico and once we have cleared customs (we are holding thumbs that it runs smoothly) he will fly along side us in a tiny Cessna 150 and guide us to a nearby microlighting club where they are busy preparing a welcoming gathering. It sounds like Mexico will be fun.
Adios Mochachos
Ricky
Sorry so short but I have to go and help Martin write a love letter that his wife Nikki is demanding from him.
Aug 14 2004
Monterey
Mexico
Hi From Mexico
We are in Mexico the land of Muchachos, Mochachas and Sombreros.
We left Laredo in USA with minimal fuss and formalities. There is so much cross border flying that things are so relaxed and organized. Even the flight plans are done over the phone.
We took off into a head wind which increased with altitude so we flew most of the distance at 100ft to 200ft above a highway which routes directly to Monterrey, our destination. We flew along side trucks, waved at highway policemen and road contractors all of whom were fascinated about these strange flying contraptions coming from the land of Gringos (Mexican name for Americans).
Landing was at a small international airport called Del Norte where the customs and immigration were very friendly and helpful. We were soon met by our Mexican pilot, Esteban and his friend Arturo and Chuy who have made our stay here an incredible experience.
In no time the microlights were in a hanger with us off to the flying club barbeque where we were surrounded by about twenty pilots all having a great time chatting about flying.
It was fantastic to be part of all the enthusiastic and vibrant Latin interaction. My limited Portuguese helped a lot to understand what was going on and with all the joking and teasing that went on. Everybody talking at the same time. Some louder than others as if an argument was brewing and suddenly everyone bursts into laughter. Martin was really surprised at the pace of things.
We later migrated to my microlight to repair the inoperative front brake. Soon everyone was assisting, dashing around to buy spares and with getting it sorted out. Now I pull G’s when using the brakes.
Cheers
Ricky
Aug 15 2004
Today we flew our microlights to a nearby heliport on the mountain side above Monterrey city. It is a beautiful setting surrounded by massive 6000ft to 7000ft colourful mountains with the city below. The owner, Francisco arrived in his helicopter and took Martin and I for a flight around the city and mountainside. It was an amazing experience.
We plan to fly South tomorrow to a city called Tampico on the Gulf of Mexico coast.
Adios Amigos
Ricardo (Ricky)
Our boys have won the 400m swimming relay by a huge world record breaking time. Damn SA is good !
Aug 16 2004
Beach South of Tampico
Mexico
Hi From “Who Knows Where?”
Right now we are on a beach on the east coast of Mexico. We have flown from a town called Monterrey in northern Mexico to Tampico and then we took off heading as far south along the coast as we could get to before night fall. We had to submit a flight plan to take off from Tampico and they were quite concerned because I told them we were not sure where we would be landing and that we would sort it out along the way. Not quite the correct approach for responsible pilots. Eventually I submitted it with the destination being a small unmanned runway where no one could check if we got there or not. In most countries if you submit a flight plan to go to a manned airport and don’t get there they send a search party out to look for you and give you the bill afterwards.
About an hour before sunset we landed on a beach called “Who knows what” which is in the middle of “who knows where” along the east coast of Mexico. The microlights are tied down with the tents rigged next to them and it is now time to chill out, enjoy the warm breeze and let the night mould itself into morning.
These are some of the special occasions that microlighting expeditions reward us with. Taking off to an unknown destination and finding a little spot of solitude in our huge wonderful world.
Cheers
Ricky
Aug 17 2004
Tuxtepec
Mexico
Buenos Dias from Ricky Martin.
As you can see Martin and I are getting our act together. I am learning to Salsa and Martin is practicing to sing (hopefully only mime) and we are calling our act Ricky Martin. We are taking this act on a world tour and hope to raise money for the expedition in this way. Please book our exciting act as we fly through your country.
Ok! Ok! Enough nonsense for one update.
We are in Tuxtepec in the southern Mexico. It is a beautiful little town surrounded by really lush plantations of bananas and sugarcane. We have landed at a small grass microlighting strip on the farm of Manuel Fernandez. He has invited us here and offered the use of his facilities and equipment which comes at a good time as we are having a continuous maintenance and repair nightmare. My radio is still giving trouble after many attempted repairs and also the engine monitoring instrument. We seem to have sorted out Martins radio and other minor details.
Last night we got to bed early, as the lack of sleep over a few nights had caught up with us. In the early hours of the night we were frantically woken up by a massive earth quake. Martin and I debated whether or not to run outside or what to do. As Martin sleeps without knickers we chose so to save passerby’s the nightmare of such a sight in addition to the earth quake and stayed indoors. In the morning Manuel explained that it was a little earth quake and that it was a regular occurrence in the area.
This morning was spent working on the trikes followed by a great lunch with the Fernandez family and then a TV interview. (This is the life of high fliers). The trikes are refueled with additional containers on Martins trike so we should be able to do some longer distances. We plan to fly towards a small town called Chichin Itza which is supposed to have some significant Maya ruins. We have to fly over some large jungle areas to get there and hope it is rewarding site to visit.
Adios
Ricky
Aug 21 2004
Chinchen Itza
Mexico
Hiya from Maya Capital
Today was a fantastic day of exploring the ruins of the Mayan people in Chichen Itza. To find this little village on a map you will need to look on the middle-north of the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico (co-ordinates N20 42 and W88 27).
We first went to the Mayaland Hotel which is next to the Maya ruins of Chinchen Itza and from where we were able to enter the ruins via a direct entrance from the hotel. This is a beautiful hotel with bungalows set in this tropical jungle with several swimming pools amongst the rocks and trees. www.mayaland.com.
It was interesting to notice that the bungalows are built very similar to the African bungalows which are round houses made with palm thatch roofs. The vegetation is similar to the tropical areas of Africa so this obviously influences the building materials and methods. (Me being builder, builder again).
Why we visited this hotel was because we were advised that the best and most particle way to visit these ruins is to stay at this Mayaland hotel and walk next door to the ruins. Unfortunately our budget would not let us stay there but it is definitely the way to visit these ruins and is a great getaway spot. It is also close to the airport for those wanting to fly in on their own planes.
We met up with George, our tour guide at the hotel who lead us on a five minute walk through lush jungle to the Chichen Itza temple and several other sites. It is a four sided stepped pyramid shape made of the lime stone of the area. It was really fascinating to find out about the design being so closely linked to the alignment of the sun, stars and seasons of the year. Its geometric proportions are also fascinating in that it all relates to the circle and its division. One can get lost in the numerical permutations of the design. Whether it was intended or coincidental who knows? I certainly enjoyed these mathematical brain teasers.
Martin and George at Chichen Itza temple
What is really fascinating is that the temples in Cambodia and the pyramids in Egypt are all built in this four sided pyramid shape with the same accuracy of alignment and also linked to astronomy. Was this a coincidence or was there some communication between these groups of people? They all had the fixation of the after life and similar belief systems with many threads linking them. Such as the same stages of after life. The balancing forces of good and evil. Dark and light. All of this was several centuries BC.
The murals carved in the walls have several references to African people with noticeable features. How did they know about Africans?
A little interesting part was that amidst all this brilliance of astronomy and geometry they did not have the wheel and similarly neither did Africa. Why not? There are many fascinating facts here that one can get lost in.
Ciao
Ricky
Aug 22 2004
San Pedro
Ambergris Island
Belize
Hi From beautiful Belize
Not many are aware of this beautiful little country hidden away in the South Eastern side of Mexico and bordering on the North East of Guatemala.
We left Chinchen Itza early and due to a head wind, flew low over the jungle to a Mexican town, Chetumal, where we cleared customs and Immigration. The officials were very friendly and we were assisted by a small Mexican lady (who was 7 months pregnant) who got everything sorted out quickly. I am referring to this because it is incredible to be able to fly across these borders so easily compared to the nightmares we had in Asia.
Mexico was a fantastic country with incredibly friendly and easy going people. The airports were very easy and the formalities extremely simple.
From there we took off to Belize City which was a short one hour twenty minute flight across more jungle and later along the coast. The ATC in Belize spoke good English and was friendly about figuring out what contraptions we were flying that were so slow. There was a fair amount of aircraft flying into the airport yet he handled us smoothly through it. After landing many of the airport staff surrounded the microlights and were interested in what we were up to. Most people spoke English which was great. Soon we were being ushered around through customs, immigration, airport and civil authorities etc by a very helpful man with a great sense of humor who got us processed through the system and with a permit to fly around Belize. He was so pleasant that the tip we gave him was worth every cent just to have his humor around.
So far flying through these countries seems to be easy and uncomplicated as far as formalities are concerned. Let us hope it stays like this.
It rained quite hard for about twenty minutes and when it cleared up we flew out to a nearby island called Ambergris Cay where we have taken a chill pill for a few days.
So far we have been getting around on bicycles and electric golf carts. The island has mainly these two modes of transport. Occasionally we have had to endure some sailing and diving with sharks and having a great time. This is a fantastic little spot so do not send out the rescue missions if you do not hear much from us because this laid back life style could get the better of us.
This is the place to come to, for a midlife crisis where you can carve ornaments or do leather work to make a living.
Back to the beach now so Bye
Ricky
Aug 27 2004
San Pedro
Belize
It is with great sadness and confusion that I write this message.
Martin passed away yesterday in an accident.
He was going for a scenic flight around the island and as he took off he was effected by sudden bad turbulence from buildings and trees on the side of the runway and crashed on to the runway.
Ricky
Sept 2 2004
San Pedro
Belize
Update on Belize
Firstly apologies if messages have not been forthcoming but as you can imagine it has been difficult to gather my thoughts.
There have been many requests for information on Martin’s accident. At the time of the accident I was at the hotel working on the computer and was unaware that Martin was going flying so I have spent the last few days gathering information and have put together this explanation based on the facts from eye witnesses and those who assisted immediately at the scene. Please understand that it is difficult for Martin’s family and all of us to deal with such reports and we respectfully request limiting further queries.
Martin was taking a passenger for a flight around the islands to show how beautiful it is in the area. He took off in what seemed to be reasonable conditions and immediately after take off a squall blew across the runway magnifying the turbulence from the windward side trees and buildings which caused the microlight to drop onto the runway. Judging by the extensive damage to every component of the trike it impacted the ground hard.
Martin and the passenger were attended to immediately by the doctors at a clinic across the road from the runway and were quickly airlifted to a trauma unit on the mainland. The passenger sustained several injuries from which the doctors believe and we hope she will be able to fully recover.
Martin’s accident was a huge shock to us all and difficult to comprehend. We have flown a long distance through America and Mexico and gradually we were getting our flying routines together. He had reached a point where he had a full grasp of the challenge of what we were dealing with and he was enjoying it tremendously. This showed when he expressed with great enthusiasm about the flying, scenery and most of all the incredible people and friends we had made along the journey. There were times when we met people and one could hear how he got engrossed in telling stories about Africa and our amazing adventure in such detail to try and get them to also enjoy our experiences. I really appreciated that he had caught onto this aspect of our journey because this was the essence of what Alan and I had been trying to do. Our mission was to get as many people as possible to enjoy and benefit in some form or other from this expedition and there was Martin unknowingly doing the same.
His accident has been a huge loss to his family and all of us friends but please remember how enthusiastic, filled with excitement and the joy he has had throughout this journey.
To all the people who tried their best at the accident and have since been assisting with arrangements, from Martin’s family and friends, we appreciate your efforts and say a heartfelt thank you for all you have done.
Cheers
Ricky
Sept 3 2004
San Pedro
Belize
Hi From San Pedro. Belize
All well. Have mixed thoughts on the situation.
Will be making decisions and updating the web page soon.
Ricky
Sept 4 2004
San Pedro
Belize
Hi. All well thinking of continuing.
Will have web messages up and running soon with further info.
Ricky
Sept 13 2004
Houston
USA
Howdy from Texas
Houston has been a great relaxation of visiting people and getting the microlight freighted to London. It all happened so fast and efficiently. A few phone calls and emails explaining the details of the microlight to the freighting agents, Elite Freighting, and the next day the microlight was rearranged from a perfectly flyable contraption to a pile of oddly assembled cardboard boxes on three wheels in their freighting warehouse. My big concern was whether or not they would allow the rocket of the ballistic parachute to be air freighted on an aeroplane. No problem. We disassembled it and they had it specially package and labeled and sent off. I was left pleasantly stunned. After what I went through to freight it the last time to this, where one phone call later a trailer is there to collect and twenty minutes later a box is manufactured for the wing and my little bundle of security is taken away by a fork lift. America is great.
I was then left to do my best at socializing and going to visit NASA headquarters and educate myself on the space program. It was exciting to see the real Apollo capsules and the history behind mans first landing on the moon. It is mind blowing to think that the Wright brothers flew a motorized aeroplane for the first time in 1903 and 66 years later Neil Armstrong became the first man to set foot on the moon. That is progress.
Well done to NASA.
The pace of progress has not slowed down either. The huge computers they used to assist with this mission, took up three large rooms and had the equivalent operating capacity to a basic calculator that one can buy at a local store today.
How did they find there way back without a GPS?
The plan is now to get to London before the microlight, which should arrive there on the 17th or 18th and to meet up with a friend Jim Pearce who will assist with collecting it. We will take it to a microlighting runway from where I will fly to France and meet up with a hooligan friend of mine, Philip who is there on holiday.
Presently I am doing home work on the route back to Cape Town and doing research on which side of Africa to fly down. The tracking system is not operational but we hope to get it working again soon.
Cheers
Ricky
Sept 18 2004
London
England
Hi from London Tally Ho old chap! From the land of polo and Fox hunting.
I am in London and already have the microlight at the airfield.
Presently I am staying with Jim Pearce, who is a very established pilot in microlighting. He has flow around the whole of Australia, Southern Africa and also many trips around Europe. It is great to exchange experiences and relate to stories.
Alan and I met him and his flying partner, John, in South Africa when we were departing and they were returning from their African expedition.
Instead of being a good boy and assembling my microlight I am taking a few days and meeting some friends who are here on holiday from South Africa. At the moment I am with a good friend Alison Wiehahn (No! Boys There is none of that.) and tomorrow it is off to France to meet a friend Philip Gilmour.
The hard work of all the flight clearances and visas into the different countries will need to start with some urgency if I am to get back to SA this year. That will have to be next weeks stress but for this week it is wondering around the English country side visiting Stonehenge, then wine and cheese tasting on the canals of France.
Best wishes to you all
Ricky
Oct 5 2004
London
England
Hi From England 5 October 2004
Since my last up date time has been taken up by site seeing and visiting friends.
Stonehenge and the English countryside, Castles and villages in France, dashing through Paris, the Palace of Versailles and meeting friends in London and Dijon in France.
In-between this period of seemingly goofing off, parts, clearances, bureaucracy, maps and route planning have been arranged and so far on this organizational side is all well on track.
I have got the microlight assembled and running. The weather has not been favorable for flying but is forecast to improve tomorrow so hopefully I be able to do some test flights tomorrow and leave the next day. The plan is to fly across Europe to Cyprus and across the sea to Egypt and down the East side of Africa to join onto the same route that Alan and I flew up Africa. It is a 15000km route with each day getting closer to home. I estimate being back at the beginning of December if all goes well.
Jim has just phoned me with a not so favorable forecast for the next few days which is a bit of a dampener. It seems that getting out of here is going to be difficult at first but the weather should improve further South.
Cheers
Ricky
Oct 7 2004
Dijon
France
Bonsoir de Ricardo en France
Things are flying again. I left England yesterday after several days of waiting for mother nature to create some good weather. There was no sign of it improving so I took an opportunity where it cleared up slightly but the wind was blowing a bit more than I was comfortable with. As chance would have it, it blew towards France so that is where I went.
It was a little stressful flying across the English channel as the water looked damn cold and the engine even spluttered half way across. Whether it actually did so or I imagined it, I am not sure. I was later told that every aeroplane engine does that across the channel.
I imagined swimming in that water and it brought back memories of two years prior when I came to England to support a friend, John Dickerson, who swam the channel. I recalled how cold the water was and how he swam continuously for 13 hours against the currents that kept dragging him away from the French coast. He did not complete it on that occasion but true to the South African tenacity he came back the following year and succeeded in swimming it in just over ten hours. Since then he has been an inspiration of perseverance. Associating with strong characters like John influences ones own strength because their example makes you realize and set much great limits than you otherwise would. So if you ever get a chance to be involved in something of this nature or related to what ever you prefer, grab it with both hands.
Back to flying. Landing was at Abbeville, South of Calais in France. After a short while I got chatting to people in my best French which in reality means they could understand English. Soon the newspapers appeared from somewhere and then arrangements were made for an interview with the local TV station but it had to be done in the morning which meant that I would have to sleep at the local instructor’s house to meet them. C’est la vie! In SA terms “Alles Sal Reg Kom.”
He was an interesting pilot in that he has a goose which flies along side him when he flies the microlight. He showed a video of this and how he trained it to fly next to him when he ran, then when he drove in his car and progressively until it ran next to the microlight until it flew next to him.
Later I was introduced to the goose which showed nervous tendencies when it was put on the kitchen counter next to the pots and one can hardly blame it for making deposits of its fear on the counter.
The next morning the TV crew were on time and I was filmed every second from looking at maps to tying my shoe laces. Take off was before sunrise with the cameraman on another trike filming me heading into the brightening horizon. He promised to mail a copy of the footage which must have been awesome as it was a beautiful day in France.
The flight was across the approach path of the large airlines heading into Paris and they do not all maintain the altitudes they are instructed to maintain by the Air Traffic Controllers. How I know this is because the microlight was nearly turned upside down by the turbulence from the passing airliners as they descended below me and I was flying well below the controlled airspace.
From there it was flying across old villages with their cathedrals and magnificent Chateaux along the way. One of them had a large collection of old fighter jets behind it.
I suppose in the back corner of every household is a bit of scrap. Some households are just larger than others I suppose.
Autumn is setting in here and the trees along the canals are turning from green to red and yellow. It is all so impressively beautiful. What a way to be appreciating France.
I was en route to an airfield near Dijon and an hour and half from landing the entire area was covered in mist and the instruments indicated that I would get there with only an hours reserve fuel which meant I would not have enough to get back out if it did not break up so I choose to land at a small airfield called Pont Sur Yonne. I was warmly received by a few pilots at the airfield and as they learnt of the expedition so I was invited with no choice of refusal to have lunch with them. As I have since found out, France comes to a standstill at lunch and it is all carried out with great finesse and lots of wine which I managed (much to their disgust) to refrain from. It was a great time and included in the entourage of people was a war pilot from the Vietnam war who enjoyed hearing and talking about Vietnam. Later the weather cleared up and I bid the new found French friends Au revoir and set forth to the destination. Arrangements were made for the microlight to be hangered, by Mike and Paula, two long standing friends from England who regularly enjoy the summer in France and the summer in South Africa. With friends like this you can imagine how difficult it will be to head out of here.
The French wine is flowing as I write which I am sure is a bit long winded compared to my recent abstention and hermit like behavior.
As I am writing it is thundering and storming outside with a possibility of heading south from here on Sunday afternoon and then across the massive Alps into Italy.
Au revoir
Ricky
Oct 10 2004
Grenoble
France
Bonsoir
While I have been staying in St Jean De Losne (South of Dijon) the microlight has been hangered in a microlighting schools hanger at Beaune. As it turns out the owner and instructor, George La Fitt, has done some amazing microlighting expeditions. He has flown small three axis microlights (Microlights which look like normal aero planes with a tail, rudder and wing) across the Atlantic, down Africa and all over Europe. He was a great help with planning my route through the Alps to Italy which basically takes me through the southern towns of Grenoble, Gap and over a 6000ft pass onto the low lying ground on the Italian side. It is a very good route in little wind and reasonably clear skies. There is a landing strip inside the valley if needed and should be about half an hour of flying through the high mountains.
This mornings weather started out looking really terrible with cloud base down to 500ft and drizzling. As the day progressed it improved and I took off at 3pm in the afternoon with intention of heading as far south as possible. The weather has been really bad and the forecast is not positive so I have chosen to take up the small opportunities of good conditions and make whatever progress possible. There are many runways along the route so I set out to land if weather dictated or by 6pm. The wind was light and conditions smooth with scattered clouds and it improved as the day progressed. After an hour the Alps started appearing to the South East and became increasingly impressive as I flew closer. Grenoble lies in a low valley between the lower ranges of the Alps. It was awesome to dangle in my little gardenlike chair in crystal clear fresh air and fly through these valleys. I headed for a smaller airfield called Le Versoud where the runway is at 750ft and the surrounding mountain peaks are 7000ft which make a dramatic back drop of cliffs. The higher peaks, deeper into the mountains, are covered in snow and the forests below are starting to change to the colours of Autumn. The few cumulus clouds that hung around the mountains made it all a picture perfect scenario. After I landed I sat on the tar apron leaning against the back wheel of the trike and spent about half an hour just looking around, appreciating it all. If anybody wants to know what drives us to do these expeditions they should stand where I stood and it will all make sense.
Au revoir
Ricky
Oct 11 2004
Albenga
Italy
Bon Jurno da Italia
A quick note as I have got an opportunity to use somebodies internet at the airport.
Yesterday I flew from Grenoble, south through the mountain valleys towards Nice and passed Monaco to a small town on the Italian side of the border called Albenga.
The original plan was to fly to a small town called Gap which is south of Grenoble and then to follow the mountain pass to Italy but the clouds were too low so I chose to take the longer southerly route. The wind was calm so it was a beautiful flight through this end of the Alps to the Mediteranean Sea. The route was over some mountainous area north of Nice and passed Monaco. This area is very developed with buildings in every little valley and possible corner. Judging by the pleasure cruisers (ships) in the harbour, the jetsetters were in Monaco on holiday. Sitting on my microlight I thought "that is the way to travel". I wonder what they must have thought of me flying passed?
Monaco
After the Italian border the plan was to head inland before Genoa but the weather looked too bad so I landed at Albenga which is a runway tucked inbetween the mountains. Great spot for turbulence as I found out this morning.
The previous days weather forecast was that it would rain but it looked great so I asked for an updated weather forecast which looked good and it was breathless at the runway so I headed out. Soon after takeoff I felt the turbulence of strong winds coming over the mountains and things did not look so good to the East . I flew for a while to make sure of the conditions but when I saw white horses on the sea further ahead I decided that it would be a bad day to try and fly North over these mountains so it was back to the runway at Albenga. Landing lacked its usual formal aeroplane approach and became a get down onto the ground in one piece approach.
Hopefully the weather will be better tomorrow and zero wind.
Ciao
Ricky
16 Oct 16 2004
Pescara
Italy
All well here and as you can see I am still in Italy.
Weather held back progress for two days in Albenga but it was a pleasant little stopover. It had a nice old quarter that I spent time ambling around and discovering the surrounding area. There is an amazing little island about two hundred metres off shore which was a haven for hermits in the early days. I thought just the spot for me to go and do some leather work and carve giraffes but it is now privately owned so one cannot go there. Pity. Now I have to keep flying.
Eventually when the wind calmed down I headed East towards Genoa and over the mountains to a small grass runway at a town called Alessandria. I planned a short flight incase the weather was not good enough to fly further East but as luck would have it, it was perfect once North of the mountains, so I landed and checked a few things and took off again to Forli, a town on the Eastern side of Italy below Venice. It was a perfect day’s flight and I remained reasonably low to appreciated the scenery
At Forli I met up with two instructors from the local flying club who were very enthusiastic when they heard about the expedition. They helped me arrange things at the airport and also to get me a new tube for the front wheel which had developed a slow puncture. For me to try and do little things like getting the tube is a massive task in an environment where you don't speak the language or know where to go etc. so I was extremely appreciative.
Unscheduled Maintenance
The next morning it was misted in which gave me time to change the tube. Later in the day I flew to a town called Pescara which is half way to Brindisi.
On landing I was informed by the ATC that ultralights are not welcome at the airport. I apologized and pointed out that I had submitted a flight plan etc. Soon after parking the trike, the police came along (flashing lights and all) with a very irate little man in the back of the car. Lots of Italian and arm flapping went on for a while and then gradually I managed to get a word in between the arm waving and apologized in the best Italian I could fabricate, including lots of hand gestures and soon things calmed down and I was marched off to the office of the airport manager who could speak English and was very pleasant about everything. He made some suggestions as to how to fly further and who to speak to at the briefing office. The man at the briefing office spoke English proficiently and had some positive suggestions and was extremely helpful at finding me info on alternate runways that is permissible to land at and also contacted the relevant managers. We established a route to fly south that would not cause too much arm flapping.
In the process some interesting facts came out about flying ultralights in Italy. Basically remain outside controlled air space and you can fly anywhere but you have to remain below certain altitudes which are that one must only fly below 500ft during the week and up to 1000ft on the weekend. This could make things rather interesting with all the antennas and church steeples around the place.
This morning the wind was strong and cloudy with rain forecast in the South so I spent time gathering more info at the briefing office and was informed that the weather forecast seems more favorable on Monday.
Now it’s off to discover this town and try and find a decent plate of pasta. Can you believe I have not managed to get a decent plate of pasta yet. The noodles in China were better.
Ciao
Ricky
Oct 18 2004
Corfu
Greece
*&^%$# (Hello in Greek)
The past three days have been spent at Pescara waiting for the wind to calm down enough to fly. This time was well spent meeting interesting people and pilots. (Not saying that us pilots are not people). There seemed to be a problem and a lot of bureaucracy involved in flying to Brindisi and with the weather changing rapidly into winter, I decided that on the next opportunity of good weather I would fly directly to the Greek island of Corfu which is an area where the cold fronts seem to miss at this stage, promising better conditions.
The weather this morning looked very good at Pescara but had predictions of strong wind at Brindisi. I thought it would be best to make some progress and if the wind did increase then head for one of the unregistered runways and phone in and cancel the flight plan. It turned out to be a pleasant flight down the coast with three ATC’s along the way being very pleasant and allowing me through their airspaces with no problems unlike the arm flapping brigade at Pescara. The wind did increase from the side but hardly had an effect on the forward progress which made the flight from the Italian coast, across the sea to Corfu, quite pleasant and was over in two hours. In total it was a 6 hour 30min flight with the engine running well but the bladder taking strain.
Today was another big mile stone for the South African Freedom Flight Expedition. It has crossed the Longitude of East18 degrees and 36 minutes which is the longitude of Cape Town. In other words the expedition has been around the world and not in the shortest route either. It is now over 50 000km of flying in the microlight.
A great moment to have shared with Alan. He would probably have been full of his funny comments and convincing theories, like the world is actually flat and we have just been flying in a circle.
Cheers
Ricky
Oct 21 2004
Mykonos
Greece
*&^%$# (A different spelling for Hello In Greek)
Corfu was a nice little stopover. A day was spent replaning and reorganizing the route through Greece because the weather was too good and that is not sarcasm either. The weather was brilliant with absolutely no wind. The side effects of this weather in the area is that it builds up a lot of fog, especially on the route that I was planning. I had planned to fly directly across Greece to the island of Skaithos on the Eastern side of Greece. There are large mountains in between but why I wanted to fly through there is because the route would go over the monasteries of Meteora (Spelling?). They are the most impressive buildings built on top of massive granite boulders. They take up the entire top surface of the rocks and even overhang the sides of the rock. The monks lower a basket to pull people up from below. The idea was to photograph these monasteries.
Instead of that route, I flew south, along the west coast and east over the canal of Korinth and across the sea to the island of Mykonos. It was a six hour flight and the weather was perfect.
One can easily sea why Mykonos is so widely admired by photographers because every corner presents another creative photo of shadows of white and contrasting bright colours of doors and windows.
Making Friends with the Locals Mykonos
This morning the wind was blowing about 10knots and had me worried because two pilots the day before were going on about how the wind normally blows at 25 knots everyday and blah, blah, blah. It certainly had me worked up. The flight was another perfect day with about a 7knot tail component all the way to the island of Rhodes.
From here the plan is to fly to Cyprus tomorrow. The Egypt clearance is not ready but hopefully will be sorted out soon.
Cheers
Ricky
Oct 23 2004
El Arish
Egypt
&%$#*& (Hello is spelt the same in Cyprus)
The flight from Rhodes to Pafos in Cyprus went off well with the weather doing its bit to help with a slight tail wind and perfect conditions the whole way. It was a 4hour 30min flight with only about one hour out of sight of land. There is some false sense of security having land in sight.
The Cypriot officials were reasonable and sorted me out quickly. They had one cranky old fart who gave me a hard time because he wanted me to take my wing off and derig it and I refused to because it was too dangerous to do that as the next time I flew it would be, rig the wing and fly it straight out to sea, hoping that it was reassembled properly and flying straight. I don’t think so, thank you.
He then insisted that I have a handling agent which would cost me $160. A local pilot, Dave, who came out to meet me, got onto the phone to the local people in power and it was no longer necessary.
As I switched my phone on an sms came through that the clearance to Egypt had been approved and they were expecting me the next day. The weather was also looking very good for the following day so everything turned into a panic. Dave helped me get things done quickly. Route plans, Flight plans, photocopies of General Declarations and refueling and by early evening all was ready.
I did not sleep much that night or any of the previous four nights, stressing about flying out to sea. It is really daunting to head out into the vast expanse of water and loose sight of land for several hours as you dangle in the air hoping that the weather does not turn bad along the way or the engine decide to take an inopportune siesta.
Many strange and sometimes philosophical thoughts entertain the mind through these long flights of nothingness. We have saved some for a book Alan and I have been writing along the journey. I don’t think we have mentioned this book before but what we have been doing is writing stories of the challenges and experiences along the way that have been up lifting and motivational. The objective is to firstly write a book using these stories of the adventure to encourage others to go out and pursue their own goals. Secondly to point out what an amazing and positive world there is out there and hopefully encourage young people to go out and travel.
We appointed a ghost writer, Dominique, before we started who has been putting it all together. Everyone who has sent a message to the message board will be informed when it is ready. As backup we have been psychologically terrorizing our families to each buy several copies to ensure that there are some sales.
This is what happens when you fly on your own for too long you mumble off course. There I was flying alone over the massive blue Mediterranean in absolutely perfect conditions with the water below looking like glass and so it continued all the way to El Arish in Egypt. A small town on the Mediterranean coast in the middle of the Sinai Desert. After landing I was met by some very pleasant officials who were friendly, informal and arranged things efficiently. The flight plan was submitted and all is ready to fly tomorrow.
Later it turned out that these officials are not normally at the airport, they operate between the sea port and the airport when occasionally a flight comes in. Some even had to catch a bus there.
Fortunately I landed within ten minutes of the date and time (which was absolute fluke) that had been planned a few weeks ago when applying for the flight clearance so their time and efforts were not wasted.
Tomorrow is another 7 or 8 hour flight through the Sinai desert and South along the Red Sea.
Cheers
Ricky
Oct 24 2004
Hurghada
Egypt
ãÑÍÈÇ Marhaban (Hello in Arabic) This morning went very smoothly at El Arish and I took off and headed South into the desert. It was an awesome scenery to see the shapes, colours and tones of the desert sands and mountains. The desert looks extremely hostile but at the same time is dramatically beautiful especially early in the morning. The sand looks like velvet in various shades of light brown and yellow with mountains protruding through it giving off a feeling of serenity. Flying into the Sahara DesertIn Egypt one is restricted to only flying according to set routes. It is a pain not being able to fly directly to the destination. They do this to maintain CONTROL over all flights and have fabricated some fearful illusion that badies want to attack or spy on them. One cannot burst their bubble by enlightening them that the world is a great place and people don’t want to cause them any harm. It is all part of the paranoia of the ignorant. I was all set to fly a seven hour flight to a destination called Marasa Alham which is the southern most International airport on the Red Sea. The plan was to fly to Port Sudan from there as I would be able to fly low along the sea which results in a low fuel consumption and hence I would be able to do the 9 hour flight. But no. The route that I must fly is first West for one hour and then South East to Port Sudan resulting in an eleven hour flight. I was scheming how to get around this but as experience has shown “things have a way of sorting themselves out”. The flight started off at low level across the Sinai until I contacted the first ATC who asked me to climb to 6500ft and soon afterwards the next asked me to climb to the route altitude 12 000ft. I told him that was not possible due to lack of oxygen and he then asked me to climb to 10 500ft which I had to because he had several approaching aircraft. I watched the fuel consumption increase to the point that I had my doubts about having enough fuel to reach the destination. After a while I thought I would make a decision when I got close to Hurghada, the last runway before the final destination. As it turned out there was some military exercise further south along the route and the controller at Hurghada was telling me that he was going to have to divert me around it and asked if I would have enough fuel or would like to land. Ofcourse I took the landing option. Also from here I was outside the “permitted route” on their request which put me in a position to change my route to go to Luxor from where I can fly directly to Port Sudan along a “route” and it will be a 9 hour flight. Jackpot. That route is also at a million miles high so it will take a long time to climb to that altitude, if I get up there at all. When I landed there were lots of turmoil and even more people who were on a mission to confuse themselves. I decided to do my own thing and say nothing and see where it went. Picture an office of seven high ranking officers all discussing things and trying to agree on something (who knows what it was?) for about half an hour with me sitting there saying the occasional yes or no. They wrote things down in Arabic which was fascinating to watch. They write from right to left and it is difficult to imagine that the very lacey and cursive scribbles actually mean something. When all was said and done they agreed to agree and all were happy. A session of ego flexing was over and the all bulls came away winning. Can someone please explain what the hell goes on in these grown up men’s minds when they carry on like that? How in this day and age of cost effectiveness and efficiency can they justify the cost of these officers spending so much time on something so trivial and insignificant and unnecessary? I am just venting a bit of frustration. This is where women deserve credit because they would have agreed with each other in two minutes and rapped everything up in five minutes and spent the rest of the time enjoying some niceties. It must be because they are not primarily driven by oversized egos that force them to continuously make themselves feel good about themselves. Ricky Theory 3b, section 12 of chapter 6 of the manual on “Why women are so Amazing”. Let me tell you about the taxi driver who helped me today. I met him at the airport and negotiated a fee for him to take me to the petrol station to buy fuel in the two 25 litre containers that I carry on the trike and then to find someone with a drill to make some holes in my visor to repair it. (It broke in flight which was another reason why I was so pleased to land.) From there he would take me back to the airport and I would refuel and then go and find a dive to sleep in for the night. He was a hard looking Arab man of about fourty with a broken down Peugeot station wagon which needed to be push started occasionally. At first I thought I am not going to push start this thing. I am the one paying but then I saw it a as a hilarious opportunity to be push starting a taxi, that I was paying for, in the Sahara desert. Was that an opportunity not to be missed or what? So against his protesting I got out and pushed together with two other Arab men. It started very easily. Taxi driver who helped me in HurgahadaHis English was worse than anybody I had spoken to in the airport yet we communicated better. It must be some worldly body language that is common to those who try hard to make their way in life as opposed to those who take the easy road and ride situations and circumstances. A body language that speaks from honest emotions, needs and willingness instead of the mind that is blinded and deafened by skepticism and avoidance of issues that create fears of situations that may lead to a point of discomfort. This is a sentiment and fear only known to those who lack confidence in their ability to create their own destiny. This fear drives them into an ever diminishing world on their own as opposed to the taxi driver in Egypt who is constantly trying harder and operating outside his comfort levels becoming increasingly confident in his expanding world of opportunities. He is destined to accumulate wealth in experience and build strength in himself and others. It is our choice to take the hard road or the easy road and each has it rewards but only one is everlasting and will be inherited by the people we touch in our lifetime. From Egypt the land of adventurers and fortune seekers. Ricky
Oct 27 2004
Port Sudan
Sudan
Yesterday left I Luxor after the usual frustrations of bureaucracy and security processes. I headed south east to Port Sudan which was to be a long 9 hour flight. For the first hour it was low level flying through the desert in order to keep fuel consumption to a minimum. It is brilliant to fly through the valleys and down dry riverbeds through the desert. It can normally only be done in the early morning as turbulence develops with the heat of the day.
Gradually I had to climb higher and a head wind started developing. It had me worried because it was stretching the limits to fly 9 hours and a slight headwind could easily extend the flight beyond the fuel on board. I tried heading to the coast in the hope of finding a wind blowing either North to Marsa Alam and try again tomorrow or South that would take me to Port Sudan but as luck would have it, the wind was blowing directly inland to replace the rising air as the heat of the desert developed. After three hours I realized Port Sudan was not going to happen and a definite plan had to be made and soon. I choose to route back inland using the wind to get to Aswan. It was another two hours flying back into the desolate desert but at least it would result in being two hours closer to Port Sudan for the next day.
Arrival in Aswan had its fair share of bureaucratic confusion because this was unplanned and without permission. How can someone do something without permission? It was difficult to explain to sheep in uniform that it was an emergency situation which need initiative. But no the fact that it was survival stakes was not relevant you had to have permission. Lots of officers debating with their entourages standing around and soon the conversation was exhausted.
Nile River near Aswan
I refueled got ready for the next day and hit the bed in a little dive, exhausted.
This morning it was up at 3.30 am to get to the airport and deal with formalities and head out by sunrise. The wind was blowing from the North which was an advantage but when it blows early normally it increases during the day. This had me worried as flying through desert storms is not fun as Alan and I found out in Kenya. I plucked up the courage and headed out. Firstly in on a prescribed route in a South Westerly direction until out of contact and the transponder went “faulty” and then headed directly to Port Sudan.
I took off fueled and prepared for a seven hour flight. Things went well initially but as the hours passed the head wind increased and after four hours I was getting concerned about fuel as I had passed the point of no return. At about 7500ft the head wind was the least. Things were looking desperate after six hours but with no options I had to continue for Port Sudan as there was nothing else out there.
That area of desert is the remotest area we have flown over. It is sand and more sand with outcrops of small mountains and not a living organism anywhere. No tracks, no trees, Nada. It was !@#&% scary.
As I got over the last mountains towards the coast the first signs of life appeared with the occasional track that could possibly serve as an emergency landing. Of course to get over these mountains I had to climb to 9000ft which consumed a major amount of fuel. Once over the mountains I was able to contact Port Sudan and let him know of the pending out landing. I could see the fuel in the tank and it looked desperately low. To add insult to injury the headwind got even stronger. I was flying from one possible landing to the other and eventually the runway was in glide angle if the engine stopped and I started to breath again. I landed after 8 hours and twenty five minutes and there was only about 20 minutes of fuel left which is desperately low. On long flights we normally plan the fuel so that we have at least two hours extra fuel because on a long distance a slight head wind can easily add one or more hours to the journey.
In this desolate area there was no option but I certainly do not plan on doing anymore non-stop flights of this distance. There is too much chance involved. The weather can be vastly different over such a long distance and time. The next long flights are about five hours which are more manageable. Also the refueling is easier and it leaves more reasonable time for preparation for the following day.
Certainly glad that major leg is over with.
That was a day of intense fear management. My teeth are now ground flat and my stomach and related muscles are aching from the tension.
One Relieved and Happy Chappy saying Cheers
Ricky
Bombed ships in Port Sudan
31 Oct 2004 A quick run down of what has been happening. Port Sudan was not a pleasant stop over as the officials at the airport gave me an incredibly hard time. The weather also did not play along. When I departed on the first day the wind picked up to 30 knots and I had to turn back after 2 hours which was very disheartening and especially to come back to those Sudanese officials. That place beats Djibouti as the area where one would install an enema if the world needed it. Fortunately there was a tailwind at 10 000ft the next day because that place was so bad I was prepared to camp in the desert rather than return to Port Sudan. The next day I flew 5 hours 30 min to Marsawa in Eritrea. It was a such a brilliant place to land. The airport is new and everyone was expecting me and very helpful. They were the most considerate we have ever experienced on the entire trip. I nearly fell over when I heard a comment " Shame,You must be tired". No one has ever said that or considered the fact that these long flights are extremely stressful and tiring. When you land they expect you to be fresh and ready with all sorts of paper work. They had gone as far as having arranged motorcar fuel to be delivered to the airport prior to my arrival. This is Marsawa in Eritrea. Isn't it amazing what our perceptions are of a place and when you go there it is so different? The immigration officials were also very pleasant and spoke English. After the Sudan experience I wanted to kiss these officials toes for being so nice. I have been really way down in the dumps like I have never experienced and this was exactly the break I needed to recharge. I don't think they have any idea of how much they helped me. The Director General of Civil Aviation of Eritrea, Paulos Kahsai, came to meet me and looked after me like a king. He took me to see Marsawa and later had dinner with a few local people. They gave me some interesting background on the war in Eritrea. It was a big shock and sad to see the previously beautiful buildings that have been bombed and other ruins from the war. The area is up and running again and they are working hard at rebuilding the town. The port is fully operational and they have started building a five star hotel. Strangely I feel priviledged to see places like this because it is a "moment in its history" It will change rapidly. Soon everything will be repaired and it will become a popular tourist attraction and people will walk past not really having an idea of how bad it was or even what happened. From Marsawa I headed to Djibouti which was ambitious because there was a head wind. True to form the tailwind was up at 10 000ft again and this time it was a ripping 35 knots. I got to Djibouti in 5 hours and 15 min. A flight that should have taken 7 hours. Once again I was well received and strutted around like I knew the place, simply because I did. This is the first airport that I have returned to that Alan and I had been to previously. I put the trike straight into the hanger that we had parked in when we were here in January. It was difficult to think about but it is another stage to deal with. I worked on the trike for about two hours and then went to face the immigration who were full of smiles and remembered Alan and I. Within minutes I was sorted out but not allowed to go because they wanted to know about the trip so we chatted for a while and off I went this time to deal with the delightful Djibouti taxi drivers who were there in full force and being themselves. I chose to walk to the main road and hitch hike rather than deal with them. I waited a whole five minutes and was given a lift right into town. For those who have read the stories about when we were here previously, the cat is not there anymore or it maybe buried beneath the now massive amount of rubbish that is in its place. Also the theory still stands, that if the world needed an enema this is where it would be inserted. Cheers Ricky
Nov 3 2004
Djibouti
Djibouti
Still in Djibouti and enjoying it like a pain in the butt. While on that subject I have been ,"man down" for two days with a desperately bad stomach and high fever from having eaten some oysters. It was not clever of me to eat them as I have had many bad experiences with such exotic foods and what was worse is that after the first mouthful my stomach said "NO" but I was in a social situation where I felt I could not send it away.
Touch wood to date I have managed to stay healthy and that was simply by sticking to basic, healthy and cooked foods only. I am feeling well again and eating like a horse and full of fight which is desperately needed right now because the Ethiopians are being difficult with their clearance. One month later and typically there isn't a "yes" or a "no".
Today I took off from Djibouti and headed to Dire Dawa in Ethiopia. At the Ethiopian boundary they turned me back quite sternly and I did not have the courage to contest them in the air so choose the soft option and returned to Djibouti. Today was a small two hour enjoyable sight seeing flight of some more desert landscape.
Djibouti may be a desperate pit of the world but credit needs to be given to the officials at the airport. They were very pleasant, helpful, understanding and some were even angry with the Ethiopians which was great.
Have to go now because internet cafe closing for a bout khat (intoxicating weed) chewing for the day.
Cheers Ricky
Nov 4 2004
Djibouti
Still in Djibouti waiting for the Ethiopian clearance.
Everyday they give another promise, story, fax another piece of paper and “we will approve it tomorrow”, stories. This is a sad reflection of the Ethiopian manner of doing things. If anyone would like to be of assistance please phone the nearest Ethiopian embassy and put pressure on them to contact their Civil Aviation Dept in Addis Abba and approve the clearance instead of showing Ethiopia as the one country in the world which has been so difficult with a clearance.
Grumpy in Djibouti
Ricky
Nov 9 2004
Hi Left my bad stomach behind in Djibouti and flew 7 hours to Addis Ababa, flu and all.
Left the next day heading to Lockichoggio in Kenya and can you believe it the “conditions” forced me to land at the border post town of Moyale between Ethiopia and Kenya.
I was really well looked after by the Chief of police. It is a very basic place but nice people.
Had to buy petrol out of containers from behind shacks which had me panicking big time as the fuel even smelt bad. My saviour appeared the next morning in the form of Jillo the local missionary who said he kept a stock of avgas for planes that came in there. I gave part of the fuel that I had bought from the containers to the security guards as a show of gratitude and bought the avgas from Jillo.
The rest of the day was spent with Jillo and family waiting for bad weather to clear.
This morning flew to Nairobi in 6hours and 20 min. Landed at Wilson airport which is the busiest light aircraft airport in Africa. They have an Aero club here which has accommodation and restaurant etc right next to the runway so I am sleeping in a bed next to my microlight. It is a really nice set up and the Kenyan officials are such a pleasure to deal with.
Weather not looking good but hoping to make Kilimanjaro and maybe Zanzibar, tomorrow. Crossed the equator today so it should be down hill from here.
Cheers
Ricky
Nov 16 2004
Kroonstad
South Africa
Hi From SOUTH AFRICA.
It is sooooo fannnnnnnnnnnntastic to be back in South Africa. I have been wondering around in a daze not quite believing that I am here.
Flew into Nelspruit and just sat on the wheel of the microlight reminiscing and appreciating it all. The airport manager came out and asked me if everything was OK. I eventually got my act together and went to immigration etc hopefully for the last time in a long while.
Now in Kroonstad and have been hijacked by lekker Suid Afrikaanse hospitality of the local pilots and flying school.
The plan is to arrive in Cape Town at Thundercity (Cape Town International Airport) 10am Sat 20th. Hold thumbs for good weather. It will be fantastic to meet as many people there as possible. I am soooo looking forward to getting there.
This now feels like the last km of a long long marathon
Cheers
Ricky
Nov 16 2004
Philip Gilmour
Hey everybody, Ricky is back in South Africa!!!
When I spoke to him on Monday he had just arrived in Nelspruit. He was so excited to be back in the country.
Here are a few comments he made that explain his feelings.
“Today was a short flight, only seven hours” (Only seven hours, imagine the distances and hours per day he has been flying)
“I just want to get back to Cape Town safely now.”
“I took my shoes off and rubbed my feet in the sand to soak up some South African minerals.” “You have got no idea how happy I am to be back in South Africa.”
“At the airport I headed for the first shop where I could buy a salad. I have not had any fruit or vegetables since I left Europe.”
“We don’t understand what a war torn country means until we walk through the streets of some of these East African countries.” “Sudan, Eritrea, Djibouti and Ethiopia are desperate and very scary places to be.” “South Africa is an amazing corner of the world, It is sooooo good to be back.”
Ricky will fly into Cape Town international airport at 10am on Saturday 20th November. He will taxi to Thunder City where he will be welcomed by his daughter, Natasha (who arrives from Australia on Friday) his family, friends and everybody who is interested to see the completion of this incredible, record breaking mission. There will be a press conference and a time for anybody to ask questions and listen to Rick tell us of some of his experiences along the way. There will be a reduced entrance fee of R15.00 to Thunder City exhibition area for people who are there to welcome him. Rick will park his trike next to the largest collection of working and privately owned jet fighter planes. Amazing stuff
Be there. See you there. Bring your friends.
Phil
Nov 19 2004
Kersefontein
South Africa
Hi From Western Province, South Africa.
Have arrived at a farm a short distance north of Cape Town and on the way in I saw the most amazing sight in the world.
Proudly displayed above the light morning mist was Table Mountain in its entire splendor. It was a huge and dramatic moment. There ahead stood the land mark which I had been visualizing for months and the positive picture that I have used to turn negative thoughts into motivating and encouraging sentiments to keep going.
There stood the symbol of the final destination. Making it back can be a reality.
Anymore writing on this subject may be used as proof of me having lost my faculties somewhere in Africa.
I will be staying here as instructed by my little teenage boss (My daughter Natasha) who arrives from Australia this evening. The instruction has been that I dare not arrive before she does as she wants to be there when I land in Cape Town.
Arrival is tomorrow Saturday 20th, 10am at Thunder City at Cape Town International airport. Please come and say hello.
Cheers
Ricky
Tue 4 Jan 2005
Cape Town
Happy New Year from SA Freedom Flight 2005 is upon us leaving behind, for the SA Freedom Flight Expedition, a year of adventure and journey, and ahead, lots of memories of life’s greatest highs and hardest lows. Dreams and goals were pursued with all our determination. Some achieved and others not but most importantly of all none were left to become regrets.
To those who in some or other form, encouraged and assisted this expedition, we say a huge thank you. It is you who made it possible and kept it going right up to the destination. Hopefully your efforts will be recognized by all, as how kind and helpful people are throughout the world. From our side I hope that this expedition has achieved Alan’s and my primary objective of encouraging and motivating as many people as possible to pursue their own dreams and goals. May this be the year where you put a time frame to your dreams transforming them into goals. Pursue each one with commitment and determination and in achieving them and in so doing encourage others while yourself being rewarded with the confidence to move to greater objectives. Cheers Ricky
At this time our thoughts are with those whom we met and friends we made in the area affected by this Tsunami. The area was amongst the most dramatically beautiful scenery in the world, which reflected the nature of its people. A Thought of encouragement to those who lost family and friends. In the confusion of trying to blame, understand and readjust it is difficult to imagine but with time you will gain strengths from memories and experiences shared with those passed, to continue the journey of life with greater determination and will. Ricky www.safreedomflight.com
