Since the first time I boarded a plane at the age of 14, I’ve loved flying! On that occasion, I was on a school holiday to Austria and Italy. It was a relatively short flight, but, by the time we landed, I was in agony. The pain in my ears was almost unbearable and the accompanying deafness stayed with me for the first three days of the eight-day trip. In spite of this, I absolutely loved the whole flying experience and, fortunately, I haven’t felt so bad since!! The excitement and wonder I felt that day has never left me. I still look forward to every flight and relish every moment I’m on the aircraft.
I don’t even need to be flying myself (though clearly I prefer it when I am!). I even get a thrill when I’m near an airport. In the days when my job meant I was constantly circling the M25, I never got fed up of the stretch around Heathrow. I loved seeing the planes taking off and landing, wondering where they were going or coming from, and marvelling at the technology which keeps such huge lumps of machinery in the air.
In recent months, my twice-weekly journey to see my auntie has taken me past two of the UK’s smaller airports – Humberside and Robin Hood. Passing the end of the runway at each of these sites never fails to make me smile as I think of the possibilities these strips of tarmac (or is it concrete?) open up.
My second experience of flying was back in 1981, at the age of 16, when I flew to the US via Alaska. It was on this flight that I saw the wonders of the world from above for the first time. I was mesmerised and have tried to secure a window seat on every trip I’ve taken since! That day, I clearly saw the snowy Alaskan landscape, even though it was a summer’s day and, as we flew from there to Washington, Seattle, and then on to Portland, Oregon, the pilot circled Mount McKinley and the recently erupted Mount St Helens, so that all the passengers could get a better view.
Even though I’ve been lucky enough to fly many, many times since those early trips, flying has never become ordinary or mundane to me. I’ve had some great experiences and some terrifying ones, but each one has only added to my love of this mode of transport. I remember the shock I had when landing in Istanbul for the second time and noting how the city had mushroomed in size since my first visit ten years earlier. The first view of Saigon from the air was amazing. There, the flight path brings you in over a very densely populated area and I was staggered by the number of scooters I could see on the narrow roads below, so close it almost felt I could reach out and touch them. Landing in Hong Kong for the first time in the middle of the night was incredible. Even the darkness couldn’t hide the feat of engineering required to construct an airport in such a difficult location. Regularly flying in, out of, and between The Channel Islands for work gave me some of my most memorable flights. The little plane I used to take for the ten minute flight from Jersey to Alderney was great – I got to know the female pilot quite well and trusted her to land us in the right place, even when visibility was zero on approach, through fog or low cloud! Then there was the unforgettable landing of our flight from Chiang Mai to Koh Samui in Thailand. We flew into a dreadful storm and aquaplaned on landing, the whole plane spinning around three times before coming to rest. We then had the incongruous sight of a brightly painted land train (the kind you usually see at the British seaside) weaving its way through the torrential rain and gale force wind to transport us to the terminal which turned out to be a small hut with a thatched roof!
We’ve had one or two delays and set backs over the years. On one occasion, we were flying from Gatwick to Oporto when, somewhere over Paris, the pilot told us that a warning light had come on which appeared to suggest that there was a serious problem with one of the engines. He thought it was just an electrical fault in the cockpit but, just in case, we were returning to Luton so that engineers could check it out. After three hours on the tarmac back in the UK, we were given the all clear and flew to Portugal on our original plane. Another time, all flights out of Stanstead were suspended due to heavy snow and we ended up spending two very cold nights of the floor of the airport terminal. Then there was another much more pleasant occasion when a delay due to technical difficulties meant we were accommodated in a very comfortable hotel in Dubai for 36 hours!
There have been flights we remember for other reasons. Once, we were in the air on New Year’s Eve. There was a subdued atmosphere on board, but, as the pilot announced we were about to move into 2012, several Russians cracked open some vodka, shared it amongst all the passengers, and a good time was had by all. On another night, we were flying Air Singapore to Malaysia. The cabin crew all changed from day wear to evening wear to serve our meal. There were fewer than 100 passengers on a plane with over 300 seats, so we were able to spread out and were treated to as much food, wine and liqueurs as we wanted.
Not all of my flights have been happy occasions. When my Dad died, I was in Vietnam and Mark was in Italy. We frantically coordinated how we were both going to get back to the UK to be with my Mum. Within a few hours of hearing the news, I was on the long flight back. The gods must have been on my side that night – the plane wasn’t full, so I had a row of three seats to myself and was able to sob in the darkness in privacy.
We always fly economy (cattle class!) and have rarely been upgraded, but on one occasion, on an internal flight in Thailand, we were, and it was fabulous! If our numbers ever come up on the lottery, my flying experience will reach totally new heights!
There have been so many stories associated with flights over the years, but I’ve probably lost all my readers by now, so I’ll shut up!
Just to finish with, the flight we took last Saturday to bring us from Manchester here to Gambia, wasn’t particularly special. It was on time, the food on board was good, the views from the air were spectacular as always… but I will remember it for a long time, as it came after I’d been ‘grounded’ for almost two years – the longest I’ve ever gone without flying since that first flight back in 1979! I’ve promised myself that, health permitting, I won’t leave it that long again!! I still get a thrill, still peer out of the window and speculate about the landscapes I see below me and the lives of those who live in them, still wonder where planes are going every time I see a vapour trail – hopefully this never leaves me!
Some photos taken on our flight last Saturday:
I don’t even need to be flying myself (though clearly I prefer it when I am!). I even get a thrill when I’m near an airport. In the days when my job meant I was constantly circling the M25, I never got fed up of the stretch around Heathrow. I loved seeing the planes taking off and landing, wondering where they were going or coming from, and marvelling at the technology which keeps such huge lumps of machinery in the air.
In recent months, my twice-weekly journey to see my auntie has taken me past two of the UK’s smaller airports – Humberside and Robin Hood. Passing the end of the runway at each of these sites never fails to make me smile as I think of the possibilities these strips of tarmac (or is it concrete?) open up.
My second experience of flying was back in 1981, at the age of 16, when I flew to the US via Alaska. It was on this flight that I saw the wonders of the world from above for the first time. I was mesmerised and have tried to secure a window seat on every trip I’ve taken since! That day, I clearly saw the snowy Alaskan landscape, even though it was a summer’s day and, as we flew from there to Washington, Seattle, and then on to Portland, Oregon, the pilot circled Mount McKinley and the recently erupted Mount St Helens, so that all the passengers could get a better view.
Even though I’ve been lucky enough to fly many, many times since those early trips, flying has never become ordinary or mundane to me. I’ve had some great experiences and some terrifying ones, but each one has only added to my love of this mode of transport. I remember the shock I had when landing in Istanbul for the second time and noting how the city had mushroomed in size since my first visit ten years earlier. The first view of Saigon from the air was amazing. There, the flight path brings you in over a very densely populated area and I was staggered by the number of scooters I could see on the narrow roads below, so close it almost felt I could reach out and touch them. Landing in Hong Kong for the first time in the middle of the night was incredible. Even the darkness couldn’t hide the feat of engineering required to construct an airport in such a difficult location. Regularly flying in, out of, and between The Channel Islands for work gave me some of my most memorable flights. The little plane I used to take for the ten minute flight from Jersey to Alderney was great – I got to know the female pilot quite well and trusted her to land us in the right place, even when visibility was zero on approach, through fog or low cloud! Then there was the unforgettable landing of our flight from Chiang Mai to Koh Samui in Thailand. We flew into a dreadful storm and aquaplaned on landing, the whole plane spinning around three times before coming to rest. We then had the incongruous sight of a brightly painted land train (the kind you usually see at the British seaside) weaving its way through the torrential rain and gale force wind to transport us to the terminal which turned out to be a small hut with a thatched roof!
We’ve had one or two delays and set backs over the years. On one occasion, we were flying from Gatwick to Oporto when, somewhere over Paris, the pilot told us that a warning light had come on which appeared to suggest that there was a serious problem with one of the engines. He thought it was just an electrical fault in the cockpit but, just in case, we were returning to Luton so that engineers could check it out. After three hours on the tarmac back in the UK, we were given the all clear and flew to Portugal on our original plane. Another time, all flights out of Stanstead were suspended due to heavy snow and we ended up spending two very cold nights of the floor of the airport terminal. Then there was another much more pleasant occasion when a delay due to technical difficulties meant we were accommodated in a very comfortable hotel in Dubai for 36 hours!
There have been flights we remember for other reasons. Once, we were in the air on New Year’s Eve. There was a subdued atmosphere on board, but, as the pilot announced we were about to move into 2012, several Russians cracked open some vodka, shared it amongst all the passengers, and a good time was had by all. On another night, we were flying Air Singapore to Malaysia. The cabin crew all changed from day wear to evening wear to serve our meal. There were fewer than 100 passengers on a plane with over 300 seats, so we were able to spread out and were treated to as much food, wine and liqueurs as we wanted.
Not all of my flights have been happy occasions. When my Dad died, I was in Vietnam and Mark was in Italy. We frantically coordinated how we were both going to get back to the UK to be with my Mum. Within a few hours of hearing the news, I was on the long flight back. The gods must have been on my side that night – the plane wasn’t full, so I had a row of three seats to myself and was able to sob in the darkness in privacy.
We always fly economy (cattle class!) and have rarely been upgraded, but on one occasion, on an internal flight in Thailand, we were, and it was fabulous! If our numbers ever come up on the lottery, my flying experience will reach totally new heights!
There have been so many stories associated with flights over the years, but I’ve probably lost all my readers by now, so I’ll shut up!
Just to finish with, the flight we took last Saturday to bring us from Manchester here to Gambia, wasn’t particularly special. It was on time, the food on board was good, the views from the air were spectacular as always… but I will remember it for a long time, as it came after I’d been ‘grounded’ for almost two years – the longest I’ve ever gone without flying since that first flight back in 1979! I’ve promised myself that, health permitting, I won’t leave it that long again!! I still get a thrill, still peer out of the window and speculate about the landscapes I see below me and the lives of those who live in them, still wonder where planes are going every time I see a vapour trail – hopefully this never leaves me!
Some photos taken on our flight last Saturday:
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| On the tarmac in Manchester |
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| Leaving Manchester |
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| It has to be done – we’re on our hols!! |
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| The Sahara Desert with snow just visible on the distant mountains |
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| The start of the Sahara |
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| The Sahara Desert |
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| Salt lakes in the Sahara |
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| Approaching Banjul, The Gambia |
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| Arrival in Banjul |
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