Flying, Kiting, Moaists

Time seems to just slip away. Because the course builds slowly and solidly I'm surprised at how much I've progressed when I look back.

I'm a pilot! Of course I'm still a student with a lot to learn and all that but I've had 6 solo flights so far with many yet to come in the next 4 days. After I visit Chitwan National Park I think I'll probably find myself back here doing another 5 day SIV and Thermaling Course. Today in many ways is the first I've really felt like a pilot. Today was also fantasic and interesting in a few other ways.

The learning curve isn't really that steep but at times it feels like it. Essentially the first 4 days were ground handling training to nail the take off which is mere seconds. My first take off wasn't a big deal at all, just letting the training take over. In fact all 6 of my take off's so far I don't really remember, my body memory kicks in and it all just happens.

We've progressed this afternoon to the usual launch area, Sarangkot, instead of the easier Mandra Dhunga. It is smaller, busier, much more thermic, and usually has a cross wind and is much closer, saving half an hour of driving and another half hour of walking up a hill (and yes this is Nepal so we use porters!) so we can get an extra flight in each day now.

Flying is surreal. Sometimes in the mornings in the cool still air it's like sitting in an armchair and just so peaceful. And as a happy by product I've begun to love kiting the wing on the ground and I think at some stage I need to try kite surfing or kite boarding.

Yesterday on the way up the hill we had to stop to move some logs of the road. As I helped Maurice drag them off I mentioned that they seemed too purposefully place and he replied 'You have to remember that we're in a war zone'. The violence of past years may have passed but the Moaist still have a strong presence. The new embryonic government that I read about each days in the paper is still sorting out its new constituion and is still getting renewed tests from the Moaists every time the talking stalls or even if theyare just bored it seems. So today instead of the usual bustle of traffic this morning we were greated by dead streets as a Maoist traffic ban came into force. Tourist traffic is tolerated with a road tax, of course, if they stop us. It is generally non-violent but just a show of strength for political gain.

So in general I've found a great semi-routine, wake before dawn, breakfast at the usual, then flying all day, reading great books and hanging with a great crowd of people at the usual bars (often playing cards or pool by candle light when the power has failed). No wonder the days are slipping by! And then paradoxically even the joy I discovered at the little tricks I mastered at lunch today seem so long ago. Best of both worlds!