This happened a while ago so maybe things have changed.
Landed in an R22 for fuel. Parked in the middle of a Gobi Desert of concrete. Long yomp to the terminal.
Paid for the fuel, yomped back out, checked her over, strapped in and fired up. Called for departure.
Did you book out? said the man.
No, but this is me and I'm leaving. Can I book out on the radio?
No. You have to use the phone in the terminal.
Shut down, unstrapped, yomped back to terminal, found the phone.
I'd like to book out, I said.
Certainly, said the man. Same man I'd spoken to on the radio.
Never been back.