Woke up 0500 hours; rain thundering on roof above- predicted trough of bad weather upon us- was hoping to get away before it hit us! Banged on Richard's door next door barefoot to wake him- TV blaring as always (his soporific to enable him to sleep at night!)- Richard already awake, somewhat concerned, studying meteorological weather map on TV; not looking good, but we decide to head for airport before dawn, and try to fly in it.
Back in room grab quick shower, then dress whilst gobbling two jam sandwiches I made night before; I need carbohydrates to burn during long flights each day; Richard never worries about breakfast. Richard made me laugh last night; after dinner of peppercorn steak and salad (my record 10th night in row eating identical meal) with great tossed salad starter I asked Finnish temp. young lady in kitchen called Eve- studying for her finals in Pharmacology at Canberra university, if she could make me two sandwiches, explaining what we doing; senior kitchen lady told her just bring me 4 slices bread, with small portions of jam/butter, which she does.
Richard intrigued as I open each sandwich, then, just using fingers, extract cold butter onto bread, then, again with fingers, quickly scoop blobs of strawberry jam as well, then put other piece of bread on top, without spreading (butter too hard anyway!) Richard appalled at such primitive way of making sandwich, pointing out need to spread properly first. I explain not on fancy picnic, and plan to just wolf them down at dawn- essential process for carbohydrates and energy to burn, and all will mix in stomach; just essential process each morning; me not worried how it tastes- just eat it quickly.
Richard insists on taking photo at table of me making caveman sandwiches- so
primitive- also roaring with deep laughter and unbelief at how blind people make sandwiches- I explain just me- not others!
He earlier saw me putting vine vinegar on my salad from little jug by pouring it down finger over salad- only way to know how much me putting on; then salt sprinkled by first starting to sprinkle on hand- again to judge how much coming out- Richard never seen before; also highly bemused and yet no better suggestion for me to use- me feeling need to educate him in these things!
Richard then insists on taking my finished sandwiches to kitchen nearby, calls Eve, then opens sandwiches, roaring with laughter, saying, "look at how a blind man makes sandwiches!" Eve, coming from very PC country of Finland absolutely mortified that Richard so insensitive to me as poor blind
man- Richard roars with laughter more, explaining "O- he's my friend- he doesn't mind!
When Richard returns to tell me, I also laughed for ages, thinking about Eve's perfectly correct yet funny response in my eyes, as just me, and how I do my quick energy bundles for morning early starts. Ever wondered why funniest jokes/events in world usually those not politically correct? Because life not PC, and we just need to get on with it!
Only couple of days left to continue educating Richard; both of us find process extremely amusing.
Into taxi in pouring rain, getting wet, taxi driver Mark points out to Richard whilst driving down main street in town brown mark on telegraph poles some 7 feet above ground; mark from flood17 years ago, submerging town; then dropped at deserted little airport; security code on gate; Richard remembers from yesterday; eventually through gate, and leave kit in shelter nearby; go to open hangar to microlight; still pitch dark; both of us wet and cold, standing inside dripping hangar, rain roaring away on roof above us.
Need to push microlight outside into rain before Richard able to reassemble front windscreen taken off yesterday to enable wing to be slanted far back to get radio antennae above it under low clearance into hangar.
Wait a bit, as still too dark to take off; I make MP3 recording on my digital recorder for website, with sound of rain on roof; I pull aircraft out of hangar backwards by pulling on hub of propeller; immediately get wet from water running off roof, right down neck; only wearing polo shirt, as flying suits not unpacked yet; miserable rain, but determined to make hay whilst the sun shines I think, wondering at inappropriateness of example, but both of us acutely aware we need to get as close to Sydney today, regardless of weather; rain not best for us, but great blessing to community, so don't complain!
Load up aircraft by 0630 hours, still dark, but hint of dawn coming; next to fuel area, with automatic 24-hour music playing country and western music from local station; bizarre mix of sound of rain and music, now joined by start of dawn chorus of tropical birds around us; soon lots of little parrots on corrugated tin roof over fuel pumps, continually moving backwards and forwards along front gutter, scratching tin with their feet, trying to get better look at us; chattering away, inquisitive with innocent curiosity about what we doing; soon joined by small sparrow sized birds chirping away on tarmac around us- lovely company!
When ready and about to get in Richard sees several kangaroos down by airfield fence nearby, also staring at unusual sight of mad Englishmen getting into flying suits in rain, going flying in pouring rain at dawn!
Makes me curious as well, wondering what I am doing in such conditions, then remember Seeing is Believing, and blind children around the world, relying on people like us so they can see- all simple and clear once again, despite shivering with rain running down back!
Take off as dawn lighting up wet panorama around us; low, scudding clouds all around; feel cosy and warm in flying suit now, but rain flying into face makes me hunch down for protection.
Climb to around 5,000 feet- extremely cold, wet conditions flying through unceasing rain; air temperature below 10 degrees; try doing some flying, but, with hands in slipstream and cold, cold rain my fingers, still very painful from cold conditions yesterday make flying almost too painful; Richard says better he flies for a while, and I take my hands off, very thankful, and wishing I still had the wiring for my heated gloves, recently taken out when flying in hot conditions.
Hear with my computer kit we flying with ground speed approaching 90 knots- huge, huge difference to two days ago, battling with head winds, averaging some 45 knots; twice the speed, so who cares about a little discomfort when we are rushing towards Sydney and the end of our journey!
In Northern Territory two days ago, looking at slow progress, Richard suggested I ask the Bank or somebody to stop the wind blowing; me now realising that somebody took our request seriously, but not for no wind, but for wind in opposite direction. Important to note here that everywhere we have landed today told by locals that this direction of wind highly, highly unusual, as ALWAYS blows opposite way this time of year…Maybe, just maybe the One who has power over the wind and the waves, the Creator of the universe actually cares about the blind children in the world, and just wants to ensure we get to Sydney in time to speak at the big corporate event on Monday?! I somehow think somebody has been praying for just these wonderful conditions for us!
We landed at Nyngan 4.75 hours later, after flying along averaging high 80's knots all way; perishing cold, but worth it- only 17 degrees on ground; me still shivering; keep on my flying suit and face sun breaking out. Need fuel but airfield deserted with no fuel, but enterprising Richard spies hotel across road has phone number and calls them and arranges for very kind manager Jamie for help; Jamie arrives 10 minutes later; takes Richard with detachable fuel tank to local garage; back in 15 minutes, complete with two sandwiches for me!Been feeling a bit tight-chested yesterday/today; decide just cramped flying conditions in rain; sandwich helps immensely, with sun warming me through now!
Just phoned Jon Cook for update on position; him delighted with progress- Sydney within striking distance at last; only about 5 flying hours away if wind continues!
Strange suddenly having to talk about Sydney, speaking at luncheon, and asking him to buy me suitcase (blissful, blissful luxury hey?!) to put clothes in with flying suit and guide computer for flights home via Philippines, Hong Kong and South Korea; Jon reminds me that, after hectic day in Sydney on Monday, us guests at Australian Sunrise breakfast TV early Tuesday morning- Australia's top morning show, then off to airport and Manila in Philippines; life changing so, so fast; suddenly realising we are almost there; unbelievable, leaving me very quiet and reflective, thinking that we have nearly finished our amazing flight, flying more than half-way around the world distance wise. Back into aircraft for short 1-hour flight to Dubbo for bigger refuelling for final flight of day, hopefully as close to Sydney as possible.At Dubbo airfield immediately meet John, another pilot working in hangar nearby who immediately arranges fuel for us, and refuses payment- donation to the cause- great, great open-hearted Aussie- thank you John.
Also meet Joshua and Robin Metcalf, originally from Yorkshire; get photos with them all, then pile into microlight again for final flight of day to Gosford microlight airfield, just 30 miles from Sydney…
Immediately after take off we both hear strange ticking sound from engine, like something catching propeller; immediately alert Dubbo radio we landing again; stay at end of runway, switch off; Richard checks engine/propeller; no sign of problem; take off again; fine this time; set course for Gosford. Whilst flying over "Tiger country" as described by locals when finally approaching Sydney area Richard describes totally inhospitable, rugged, wild forested country below; rugged mountainous area; later told several aircraft that crashed in that area as far back as 1940's still not found today.
I suddenly remember last time me in that area; just 20 years old, working as Jackaroo near Tamworth in NSW.
I travelled this exact route into Sydney at similar speed, then on 350cc Honda motorbike, lying over fuel tank, flying down motorway at 101 MPH; now 6,000 feet higher, but taking same route at similar speed 38 years later, but this time blind and flying a microlight; wonder how I would have reacted as young person being told my next time and condition doing same route- life full, full of surprises, not so?!
Very cold again, now cockpit temperatures only around 4 degrees, but somehow don't notice now, reflecting on the amazing flight we are about to complete.
Work out Biggen Hill at 51 degrees Latitude North; soon to fly into Sydney, 37 degrees South; total some 88 degrees Latitude; almost journey from Equator to either South or North Pole…Then consider Longitude; Biggen Hill virtually on 0 degrees by Greenwich Line, with Sydney 151 degrees Longitude. Total 55 days for journey through 21 countries, flying through sub-zero frozen conditions over Lebanese Mountains to heavy thermal turbulence over Saudi Arabian Desert shooting up and down at 25 feet a second and throwing us 30 degrees off course in process, to flying through waterfalls, it appeared, with our severe tropical downpour between Penang and Kuala Lumpur, to flying over massive open stretches of sea, out sight of land even at 10,000 feet for over five hours, to trying to nip through heavy air traffic at Dubai airport, landing amongst some of the biggest airliners in the world, to flying over the rain forests covered islands of Indonesia, to trackless, deserted areas of the Northern Territory and landing on the road outside a tiny habitation in the outback for fuel and a bed for the night…
Everywhere, literally everywhere (once outside Italy anyway!) welcomed with open arms, open hearts and a level of hospitality and kindness that has left Brian (for first leg of flight), Richard and myself both humbled and thoroughly revitalised with the wonderful fact that human nature, and the human spirit, when at it's best and highest is a wonder to experience and it leaves us better people for it all, and poorer for having to say good-bye to so many precious people we have met so briefly, yet never to be forgotten.
Very reflective, realising our long, long flight across Europe, middle East, Far East, South East Asia and finally Australia almost over; my temporary lifestyle as microlight pilot flying across countries of world about to finish; remarkable, I keep on realising, that my dream to fly this route, born through meeting Storm Smith four years ago at a Rolls-Royce leadership development conference almost realised- yes, we CAN live our dreams, if we don't give up on them when the wheels fall off, that has happened several times over last years.
Richard not sure where Somersby Airfield for microlights is; not in his GPS system; we just have instructions if driving there by car; so, as sun dipping onto horizon, and long, long shadows covering jumbled Tiger terrain far below, Richard mumbling to himself, trying to read scribbled instructions on road map on his knee, whilst looking with concern at disappearing sun, not wanting to become another aircraft lost forever in Tiger Country below.
Finally, and suddenly, he says he thinks he can see it, and we go into gut-swooping spiral descent and turn to line up on small runway in growing gloom; we land safely, but, when aapplying brakes on wet, slippery grass, we just keep on going… eventually stopping, and met by "HK" or Heavy Kevy, as Kevin is affectionately called, along with his wife Angie, who have been expecting us, through Rob, the owner of Australia's very successful microlight industry.Our longest flight of the journey is over- some 560 miles I think; we get out stiff, cold, yet so elated, realising we are within a stones' throw of attaining our grand goal!
Kevin sorts out a hangar for the microlight, and he and Angela take us to their nearby home for a couple of pints of Coopers Pale Ale, one of Australia's finest secrets kept from us Brits, before dropping us at a motel in nearby Gosford, with Jillie, their little Jack Russel, sitting next to me on the back seat, freshly returned, cold and wet, from her little walkabout in the nearby hills. She was given her dinner of dried dog food topped with a chicken neck just before we left, with her drinking huge volumes of water in-between her meal, and being dried with a towel by Angie; I miss my Retriever guide dog Skipper so much, so take it out on Jillie, who loves the fuss, and sits there quietly, perfectly leaning into the corners whilst sitting on the seat, and I came away thinking I may have made a new friend, but in reality Jillie just took it as her right to be pampered, because of her high status in life…
Richard and I dump our gear in our rooms, discover the motels do not serve food, so head off a few blocks to a great pub, where I again order my favourite steak with peppercorn sauce. Richard almost always takes ages choosing something on the menu, then invariably just asks for whatever I have ordered, resulting in two salads, followed by two steaks, but he has a different sauce like mushroom or \Dianne, just to maintain his individuality.
Tonight, Richard actually orders a mixed grill, complete with pork chop, lamb chop, steak, bacon, sausage and salad and fries; I decide it sounds delicious, and immediately choose the same. Richard is highly indignant, telling me I can't order the same as him, but I say I want to, so he immediately changes to a steak, leaving me with the vision of that great peppercorn steak again, so swap back, resulting in Richard immediately changing back to the mixed grill, telling me he is NOT going to have the same as me tonight, so I reluctantly change back to the mixed grill, with him predictably choosing the steak, with the busy, slightly confused lady at the bar continually crossing out what we have been choosing.
I think Richard has a secret fear, just starting to surface now, that, after this trip together, he will end up being like me.
When our meals arrive, with both of us having great salad starters, my plate is actually a massive, oval platter, absolutely laden down with food, and Richard gets two lovely pieces of steak; we contemplate each others meal with a touch of jealousy, then get stuck into our respective choices, voicing loud praise and sumptuous sounds as we devour what we keep on telling each other was the best choice on the menu, whilst having a couple of beers.
Both of us defeated by the size of the helpings, and apologise to the waitress, who says it is why so few people ordered desserts there. I must admit that I ended up ordering a vanilla ice cream with caramel sauce just to help her out- a wonderful way to finish such an unusual day for me.We walk back to motel, buying some soft drinks at the garage, and I tumble into bed by 2300 hours, absolutely revelling fact I don’t need to set my alarm for 0500 hours- O bliss, bliss, bliss!!!
Thought for the day: again… "When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return."
Leonardo da Vinci
"Don't be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin."