Aussie Andy,
I don't like flying on my own either. But I didn't have a lot of choice. Staying at home, with time off, an aircraft booked, and good weather, just wasn't an option.
Laundryman,
I didn't put an invite on PPRuNe; just asked PPRuNers that I knew personally. Maybe I should have done that though. But with hindsight, no, I shouldn't...read on...
My photos can be viewed at
www.photobox.co.uk/album/1506035. No labels, unfortunately.
WEDNESDAY 8TH JUNE
I am totally knackered. My shoulders ache, my back aches, and most of all, my brain aches. I half consider returning to Le Touquet and the UK, but no, not yet. I really, really want to get to the Loire Valley. I'll fly to Angers, then I'll see. It's one straight line, with a VOR closeby, almost due south, with a tailwind. All I have to do is sit there and fly, isn't it?
I chat to some British pilots at Deauville, in a group, lucky sods. They're staying in the North, and I'm aware that once I head south, there may be less Brits around anyway. I'm on my own. But once I get airborne, all my fatigue and doubts vanish. I've noticed this a lot, especially when I'm flying regularly. The weather is good, though quite bumpy due to thermals and a reasonable wind. I try to talk to Paris North, but they don't answer. I know that neither Lille nor Paris talk to Brits if they don't feel like it, so I decide not to bother. I maintain a listening watch, but just fly south and look at the scenery. I use the VOR and my GPS, since flying by map and compass in France is quite hard - there just aren't a lot of ground features in some areas. It's under two hours with a tailwind, and soon I'm talking to Angers, who thankfully speak quite good English. The thermic weather makes the crosswind landing quite interesting; I think I'm getting quite good at these. I'm in the Loire Valley, and it's only midday. I pass on the restaurant, as my stomach feels a bit queasy; not sure if it's a mild stomach upset or nerves. I go to the terminal, buy a sandwich, which I nibble to keep my strength up, and drink lots of water. What now? I could stay here, but the airfield is a long way from the town. And it's early, and despite my queasy stomach I feel OK; a bit tired, but pretty confident and positive. I want to go on, though not too far. So...where? It's really either Tours or Blois. Blois sounds nice, but if I stay there, it will be an expensive taxi ride into town, and Honfleur already cost me a fortune for the same reason. The airport at Tours is near the town. It's military and civil, and I must be half brain dead, as I don't consider what that means. I decide to go to Tours, and stay there overnight.
It's only about 40 miles, even following the river and looking for chateaux, as I intend to do. So I'm looking forward to a nice gentle sightseeing flight for the afternoon, and an early start. Little do I know....
For a start, the wind has increased and shifted to Easterly. So I have a strong headwind. It's afternoon and hotter, so the thermal activity has increased. This makes for a very slow, bumpy flight. There are a lot of forests in the valley, making it even bumpier. If I climb too high I hardly make any headway - 56kts at one point, according to my GPS. Lower down, and I'm flung around like a sack of potatoes, which doesn't do my sensitive stomach any good at all. I'm beginning to want to be on the ground at Tours. I'll call them now.
An almost unintelligible French accent asks me to report at point W at 1100 ft. I look at Tours' approaches, and sort of find point W, but when I get there, it's not an obvious VRP like we have, and I'm not sure I'm in the right place. On top of that, I'm over woods again, and at 1100 ft I'm being thrown out of my seat and need two hands to hold the yoke! ATC asks if I can see the airfield, but I'm too low. I zoom up to 2000 ft, work out where the airfield is, then get down again...there are loads of fancy fast military jet things around, and I see why he wants me so low. He tells me to hold, then leaves me. I fly a kind of racetrack pattern parallel to the main runway so I don't lose it, trying to keep to something resembling 1100ft as the wind and thermals fling me around the sky. It's horrible! Why didn't I stay at Angers? I ask the ATC man if it'll be much longer. He asks for my endurance, and I say: "Well, it's about 2 hours, but I'm really tired", then realise how stupid that must sound to a military controller! He says he should be able to get me in in about ten minutes. I wonder whether to divert to Blois, but in those conditions I don't think I can find the page, frequency, plan the route, etc. I could return to Angers, and with a tailwind I'd be back there very quickly. I decide to give it five minutes, then go. I feel horrible. I want to be on the ground.
A few minutes later ATC tell me to join right downwind. Since I'm on the left, and he wants me still at 1100 ft, I can't think how, and say so. I'm suffering from brain fade anyway by now. With lots of repeats due to the fact I can't understand the accent, he finally gets me to cross the centre of the runway, and when I eventually report downwind, I can almost hear him cheering. I'm almost cheering too. I'll apologise to him when I get on the ground. I turn final for the bumpiest crosswindiest landing ever but I don't care; I just point at the runway and land, no idea how or what I did. I vacate the runway, but can't apologise, as I get passed straight to Ground. A woman with an even more atrocious accent directs me to the GA part of the airfield, which seems to be in the middle of nowhere, telling me in no uncertain terms that they don't deal with civilians for fuel!
I get to the GA part, taxi to the fuel bay, and shut down. Then I just sit there. I feel utterly weary. I want to go home! I haven't even seen a chateau, how could I, in those conditions?
Suddenly, a young man comes out to ask if I want fuel. He speaks about as much English as I do French, but he's friendly and helpful, and insists on doing the refuelling for me. And he's the first of perhaps the friendliest bunch of people I've ever met. They help me, carry my luggage, find me a hotel, even drive me out there. I'm staying in a cheap hotel near the airport; I'm too knackered for any sightseeing. But it's a nice place, friendly, and the simple meal they provide is delicious. My stomach is better and I really enjoy the good French food, eaten in friendly though almost silent cameraderie round two large tables. How do the French manage to make even simple meals so delicious? I feel better. I'll sleep in tomorrow, then carry on, maybe to Limoges where I vaguely know an English lady who does B & B, maybe first to La Rochelle, maybe seeing a bit of the Loire Valley once I get out of Tours' zone.
I call P, and suddenly our plans get changed! She is better, and kicking herself at not coming. OK, I say, why doesn't she get a Ryanair flight to Limoges, and I'll meet her at Sue's place. So we decide she'll do that on Friday if she can get a flight, then join me for the trip north. Hurray! Suddenly all is well. No route planning tonight. I'll decide on my exact plans in the morning. But one thing is clear, I only have another 1-2 days of solo flying in France, then there'll be two of us - half the work, half the cost, twice the fun.