I'm just back from a 10-day flying trip to France, about half of it alone, in G-ATKF, the ancient C150 (she's nearly as old as me!) in which I have a share. For those who don't know, I'm a helicopter instructor, but a very average PPL(A) - 270 approx f/w hours over 8 years, and not a lot recently. So...be kind to me when I tell you about all my mistakes, please!
Anyway, by popular request, here's a diary type account of my trip...the beginning at least; it may take a while for me to have time and energy to write it all up....
MONDAY 6TH JUNE
I'm at Sleap, and ready to go. This trip has been planned for months and I ought to be looking forward to it - flying slowly around France, where the weather and mood take us, having a holiday, no definite plans. It was meant to be fun, not a challenge. But now P (she doesn't want to be identified) is ill. We can't go at any other time, and I have the time off and the aircraft booked, and a cat sitter. And the weather forecast is good, even. There's no reason not to go alone, except...I'm scared. I don't do a lot of f/w flying, and I've only flown once in France. This feels like a major challenge, and I don't want a challenge; I want a holiday. I've asked everyone I can think of to come with me - pilots, PPRuNers, old friends. I've even offered to pay for the flying, asking them just to cover their own expenses. But no-one can make it at such short notice. So I'm on my own.
So, I'm ready to go. The plan is Sywell for lunch, then Rochester tonight. When you live this far north, and fly a C150, getting to France in a day is difficult. Besides, I'd rather cross the channel in the morning when I'm fresh. And this way, I put off the dreaded moment of setting off over water, alone, with a basic PPL and a fairly basic aircraft without a lot of instrumentation. Tomorrow is another day; I'll think about that then.
The flight to Sywell is uneventful and fun; the wx is good, I know the way, I've been there before. I have lunch, and try not to wish that P was with me. It's not just the flying; I really don't want to go on holiday alone. Still, I'm off to Rochester, which is a new airfield for me, and like lots of us, I collect new airfields. I can go either side of the London zone, but I decide to head west, down the corridor between Luton and Stansted. I've been that way before, and with good vis, it's not a real problem.
The first difficulty of the trip comes when I get to Rochester. If anyone had told me, in my nervous preflight state, that I'd have to approach over woods, to a grass runway on a hill causing all sorts of depth perception difficulties, I think I'd have elected to go to Headcorn, which I know. But they didn't, and I don't really have time to worry about it, and land safely. The chap in the tower tells me it's quite a challenging place to land, and I don't argue. Perhaps I'm not as bad at flying these things with non-whirly wings as I think I am. Certainly I'm often accused of being under-confident. Maybe it's true. Anyway, I get fuel, park, and tie KF down for the night. The people in the tower are friendly; they give me a flight plan form, and offer to help me fill it in if I get stuck. I get the impression they do this often. They also find me a taxi and a B & B. It's a nice place to stay; there are three cats, which is great as I'm already missing my own feline family. I look round Rochester, and eat in a small Italian restaurant. I then plan next day's flying. I'm going to Le Touquet to clear customs, then on to Deauville. I don't want to go to any small airfields in France yet, as I hardly speak any French. I was going to learn some, but decided not to bother, as P speaks it fluently. Oh well. I fall asleep telling myself that if I don't like it I can always come back to the UK and do some flying here...if my pride will let me!
More later....