Whos the caaptain?

A breakfast of dry roasted, roadkill and reefer sends us on our way at 9 am through the pretty French countryside toward our first destination,Dune Du Pyla,at around 200 meters the largest sand dune in Europe situated on the south west coast of France and a mecca for paraglider pilots from all over for reasons that will become obvious if you visit...the super consistent sea breeze and ultra soft landings are perfect for beginners first flights and pilots just wanting to improve their ground and wagga skills...Three hours or so into the journey and after some frantic teamwork reversing the roadtrain when I miss a low bridge sign chatting on cruise control (Joe:”do you think well fit there mate?”.me:”errr no”)Joe takes over the driving and I elect to take a thc induced nap in the first mates chair expecting and hoping to be woken when we arrive at the dune...what actually happened was that I was awoken by a rumble like a hundred thunder storms I haven’t head since the carpet bombing in ‘nam . The Skylark is hurtling down the hard shoulder with a blow out and a sweating grimacing Joe is fighting to keep us out of the ditch on the motorway verge.To make matters worse,not realising why we were out of control and still only half awake I spring cat like out of my chair and grab the steering wheel and Joe and I wrestle Abbot and Costello like left and right and begin debating which direction we should be going in.Whos the captain?No who is second in command.A brief and intense dialogue follows after which I concede that with only 3 wheels left we should probably be pulling over.We do so and we proceed to fit the spare.This is a straightforward affair except for the fact that the spare which has never been used is deformed and cannot be driven at over 30 mph without a wobble going through the steering which makes the Ben Hur chariot crashes seem like a Sunday drive in the country.A seemingly friendly French motorway rescue type pulls up and escorts us to the next truck stop which is only about a mile,sends for a tyre truck and leaves.Most helpfull methinks.The truck arrives an hour or so later but obviously still with Agincourt rarther than V.E. day in the forefront of the mind the odious toad proceeds to charge 1000 euros for a tyre.Its Sunday were in the middle of nowhere and weve got to have it.He should have been issued with a striped jersey and a mask.Thats the last time I fight a war for those bastards.
Still bad things come in threes as they say so between the ferry the low bridge and the tyre we are now pre-disastered for this trip and nothing else could possibly go wrong the way my freakishly optimistic mind works.We eventually arrive at Pyla that evening,find the main campsite(5e a night between us,hurrah!)stock up at a supermarket climb some handy stairs behind the campsite up the dune and up get roaring drunk and stoned.Too late to fly unfortunately with all the delays and still missing our friend Adam and his girlfriend Kate who were expected to be there before us as they were travelling by plane that morning.There is no sign of them at our campsite,his phone is switched off ,we don’t have her number and we are starting to wonder as things start to blur and we pass out that night if some hideous fate has befallen them also as Adam is an notorious and unrepentant stoner who has missed more than his fair share of planes,not that that makes him a bad person.In fact its one of my favourite things about him.

In the beginng

The time since your intrepid reporter last wrote in October last year has been spent making feverish preparation for what promises if nothing else to be a memorable walkabout.The Skylark has ,since she left the U.S. has had her gas guzzling 6.8 v10 engine converted to run on lpg and her huge batterys are now charged with solar power largely eliminating the use of the on board generator.Her emissions are now so clean that when started butterflys and bunny rabbits gather round her exaust pipe and lpg being half the price of petrol leaves the bank manager feeling a little less suicidal than when I first revealed my intention to stop working and become a bum to him .Finances which will hopefully be enough stop me starving or pushing have been secured and a suprising number of publications have expressed an intrest in paying modest fees for reports of my exploits. Those of you who followed my original exploits in the U.S. may remember how I was broken hearted when forced to abandon my ever faithfull and super reliable Lill Suzy jeep in Conneticut,the shipping cost to bring her along far outweighing her financial if not her emotional worth...She has since been risen in Croydon like a phoenix from the ashes in a shower of metal sparks ,grease and oil and after many hours of my cutting bolting welding and grinding,her replacement is even though I say so myself better suited than ever for the task set before her and she looks pretty sweet to boot.
I had planned on making the journey alone from start to finish ,pilots on the whole being a friendly, helpfull and approachable bunch but upon hearing of my plans a motley crew of sky tramps of various experience elect to join me for the opening stretch of the journey,which will obviously ease the initial financial burden,give me a rest from all the driving and provide excellent company to boot. While still making final preps in dry dock my first two shipmates Joe and Nicky turn up.We have an 8 o’clock ferry at Dover to catch and I have lost 2 of the nuts that hold Lill Suzys towgear in place...without them we are going nowhere and frantic rushing around to replace them reveals that the Americans are still using imperial threads and they are almost impossible to find outside a specialist shop I use for fastners which is closed on Saturdays.The first of what will no doubt many improvised alternatives of the journey with no end is made with copious amounts of the ever usefull duct tape, we weigh anchor and leave port(or reverse out of the yard if you like) with barely enough time to make our deadline.We arrive with 15 minuites to spare and realise why we are at the front of the ferry que when we watch it pull out without us on board, check the paperwork we have been given and see we have a fun filled 2 hour wait for the 10 o’clock sailing...oh joy of joys...ferry port coffee and overpriced sandwiches for tea.We make an uneventfull but beer soaked crossing to Dunkirk,drive for a couple of hours and spend our first night at a truckstop on the French motorway.

example of one difference…

americans have this kind of advertising…

… do you suffer embarrassing fidgeting in awquard social situations…are business meetings sometimes higher pressure than they need be…is rectal discomfort making your life a misery…use cooling hemaway spray …hemaways soothing formula and all natural ingredients will ensure you the soothing relief you deserve…organic products from pacific and indian ocean plant life ensure an all natural way to instant relief…millions of americans arent discussung this… its not a subject we broach but many of your friends are probably already using hemaway…sounds like just the job for the long suffering piles patent…you’ve almost eased yourself off your doughnut shaped cushon ready to “call now”… then comes the disclaimer…hemaway is not suitable for everone…if you experience dry mouth discomfort itching rash bleeding warts dizzy spells vomiting chest pains heart flutters or light headedness consult your doctor immediatly …do not operate heavy machinery drive or drink alcohol while using hemaway …
Wtf…I think I would rarther have a sore bum…

why I fly
why do I sacrifice friends family home and work… just about my whole life for months and even years…just to stand the hairs on my neck up?...no…to pump chemical…maybe…to learn…grow…evolve…feel emotions like…apprehension…butterflies…elation…pain…disappointment…love…euphoria…experience a unique social interaction…yes..all of the above …and all of these things maybe even predictable before you start the free flight journey… but what you cant predict …what I was not ready for…is that along with the travel to places of mind blowing natural beauty… and seeing them from a unique perspective …is the interaction with natures elements on a level I never dreamed possible and still can sometimes scarcely believe…not just with the air mass but with the terrain the sun the moisture gravity…all of these things combine and morph uniquely to shape my space and trigger my reflexes…in a very real and at the same time zen like way there are times I feel completely that I am mother natures child as I surf the air currents and if I listen to and respect her she will guide me and protect me as only a mother can…with what do I possibly substitute this?(watch http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=cFJ55ApiBP8 ) very rarely do I feel really scared…all though there was that one time…

Conclusion…
…america…the same…just a little different
poor America…so misunderstood…so prone to misunderstanding…this I think is partly put down to the nations lack of overseas travel as a whole…and who could really blame them with this vast and beautifull continent as a playground with all its diversities…from iceberg to desert and plain to mountain from sea to shining sea..america has something for everone and is populated by some of the most genuinely friendly and helpful people on gods green earth…these are truly lucky people…the way america is in the news I almost expected the country to smell of gun smoke rarther than pine forest…and although I know in some places it does I have honestly had the greatest time here and had I known it was going to be this good I would have made it possible to stay a year…

This can be seen as pretty well it for act 2…this area is not called new england in jest…it is hundreds of miles of identical flora and forna to the countryside at home with an identical climate which means rain wind and the kind of inconsistent weather us californians just aint used to dude…it totaly harshes my mellow…the skylark will be on a slow boat to southampton within days and lill suzy will go to a new home…bill has proved to be a most industrious host with all kinds of resourses at his disposal to ease the passage…there is a chance of flying before I leave but it is slim and if it materializes will probably not amount to much… his wife is a fantastic hostess who says marvelous things in her new york accent like ”im italian…eat” …this is the beginning of a long journey many including myself dream off but few achieve choosing instead to wonder as an old grey familiar figure looks back out of the mirror at them what might have been…most cannot some want not but for the few the longest journey begins with a single step…make it…find a way… .it has been a pleasure having the company of those who have joined me through acts 1 and 2 in spirit through these pages as well as in body and I look forward to seeing you all and many more in act3…
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=Et2Byl9Nh-k the worlds worst rv salesman

Sun…mon…tues…wed…white lines
8 am…i look out the window…an overcast sky gives me the eviction notice I have been waiting for so I shower and go to the big aussies tent to bid him adieu…we swap details to stay in touch and i wonder if well bump into each other on a hill somewhere else in the world…i start cruseing north out of Jackson on the 33 to ultimately meet Interstate 90 east forever through Idaho…Wyoming...(nice pretty mountainous)…south Dakota…minnesota…wisconsin...(flat…flat…flat)…illinois(couple of laps round the chicago freeway system)…indiana…ohio…pensylvania…new York…and finaly conneticut…where everthing starts to look very much like home with late september rain rusting the leaves off the trees….i finaly arrive at bills…well…that drive was no real fun…america is BIG… but had its intresting points…and as a one off was better than being a plumber…