Apart from one or two notable exceptions-and they are notable because they are exceptions- I've always found that for want of a better word that's not as corny that there is a kind of brotherhood between flyers. I guess it's the shared experience that only pilots have. It matter little whether you fly on a shoestring or you can afford a Starscraper Novablaster, there always seems to be a helping hand somewhere.
I must admit the first time I used my shiny new license to land out somewhere in a battered old rented 152 I wondered whether I would be asked to use the tradesman's entrance, but nothing could have been further from my expectations. I'm just a kid from a small mining town in Yorkshire who used to look up at the sky at every aircraft that went over, and never thought that someone from Cudworth could actually get to fly aeroplanes. They were for superheroes who came from places that had an inside toilet, hot water on tap and a proper bathroom instead of a tin bath once a week in front of the fire. Then I found out that anyone with more than two brain cells to rub together could fly so here I am...
