Daughter: “Come to Italy!” Me: “Can’t face another airport”

I’m at the start of 10 precious days off in Portugal, having been a passenger or pilot on 26 flights in the past 6 weeks. Not wanting to exaggerate, I check my logbook…….it’s 28; I have a valid point.

Daughter: “Won’t be working, so we can explore together!” Me: “I’m on the next flight!”

So it was that I found myself on yet another flight, landing late in Pisa – my decades of roster changes, standby duties and the occasional downroute delay or diversion having instilled in me an ability to be flexible and adapt to whatever life throws at me. Added to that, now that my children have flown the nest, time spent with them is so precious and special; in reality I knew that from first moment there really was no choice……I was spending my holiday in Italy!

The train wasn’t until lunchtime, giving me a good opportunity to check out Pisa – obviously on my new-found favourite mode of travel, the electric scooter. Having visited this city 15 years ago, I had some idea of what to expect, but somehow that Tower seemed to have developed even more of a lean. I succumbed to the obligatory photo attempt; some tourists were so inventive, pretending they were leaning against, kicking or kissing it and the selfie-stick sellers were doing a roaring trade to facilitate this.

People flock to Pisa because of this Tower that is so far off the vertical, it makes your head swim and I wonder if there would be the same level of interest if the designer had built its foundations more carefully. It’s a fortunate oversight that has boosted this beautiful city’s fortunes, but I’m not sure if the sightseers appreciate the intricate cathedral next to it, the small streets full of bustle and the many bridges crossing the wide river. Certainly, my only memory from 15 years earlier is of the Tower and I have a revelation; I am now a different kind of tourist and see the world through different eyes. I travel differently and appreciate different things……and I am happy about this! Now when I look back at this visit to Pisa, I will remember the coffee on the cobbled street watching a horse carriage go by, the colours of the buildings beside the river and, of course, all those tourists contorting themselves to catch the perfect photo with the famous Leaning Tower! It’s a special moment as I take in just how much travel helps you to grow and transform, learning about yourself as you learn about the world.

Train travel in Italy is another revelation; cheap, clean, double-decker trains with charging sockets (21st century essential – come on Britain!). Running north, with incredible mountains views on the right and sea to the left, I change in La Spezia and head towards Cinque Terre (chang-kwa-terra – that pronunciation took me a week to master). Why have I never heard of this area before? It’s a UNESCO heritage sight and Americans are all over it, but it seems to have passed me by. The area is made up of five fishing villages, nestling between mountains and sea that over the years have grown upwards, apparently each generation adding another storey to their dwelling. Imagine this with red roofs and burnt orange walls, tiny winding paths between them and a mountainous backdrop; sometimes, only a photo will do……

My daughter is halfway through University and discovered that working on a Superyacht for the summer is an excellent way to combine the need to earn money to improve next year’s student experience along with seeing beautiful places and meeting interesting people (the apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree?!). She has a few days off and it’s simply magical to be able to spend them with her exploring this very special place together.

The best way to experience this place was from the sea, as you could really get a feel for the five villages; not only that, our boat trip with a hilarious local was fantastic fun with such lovely people that we went on to have lunch together afterwards. More benefits of travel – meeting fascinating people from around the world!

The other way we enjoyed experiencing this unique village was with our tastebuds; we’re in Italy so it’s simply not possible to have a bad meal, but the restaurants in this town took our love of Italian food to a whole new level. Spaghettoni (thick, chunky spaghetti – if it had been skinny delicate strands, then it would have been spaghettini…..I find myself becoming enchanted by their language too), cooked to al dente perfection, creamy risotto with tiny cubes of tuna tartare and perfect, minute parcels of food from the chef between courses to titillate the taste buds. Salivating yet?!

One word of warning about visiting Cinque Terre (if you’re like me, you’ll still be saying sank tear at this point 🤦‍♀️……how much prettier the Italians make words sound!). STEPS! Endless steps up and down, as wherever you go in the village, it will always be above or below you and involve a short stairmaster workout. That’s not entirely true – the steps can be avoided in the lift; yes, the village is on such a steep hill that this is an essential! Whilst hiking between two of the villages (not hiking really, more like stepping – it was 600 of them from the train station just to reach the first village!), I saw how provisions are brought up to the bars and restaurants using what looked like an adapted lawnmower and it made that Aperol Spritz taste all the more delicious that night! 🍹

My daughter returns to work and I take the train south for a couple of hours to Tuscany to check in for a 4 day yoga retreat; a totally perfect way in which to spend the second half of my holiday and the ideal antidote to all those long days spent in airports or on aeroplanes recently. Picked up from the train station and immediately whisked straight to a vast expanse of private beach demonstrated that this yoga teacher, Lorenza, had a similar love for nature and the outdoors as me; this was going to be a very unique and special experience.

Our first lunch under the beach pine trees consisted of Naples Mozarella, Tuscan tomatoes and focaccia all from the local Farmers’ Market. Truly delicious, although now that I have tasted real mozarella, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to enjoy the packaged fakes from the supermarket ever again! Falling asleep in the hammock after lunch whilst listening to the sounds of the waves was blissful…..

Lorenza opens her stunning Tuscan home for yoga retreats just a few times each summer, so I was extraordinarily fortunate that my unexpected holiday happened to fit in with one of these times. Staying in her home, practicing yoga in her garden and enjoying long, lazy dinners with the other two interesting guests was just so enjoyable, calming and restorative. And I discovered another love of Italy; the Tuscan interior style is so understated, eclectic and rustic which creates an atmosphere of tranquil relaxation, immediately making you feel so at home.

Being a sporadic yoga enthusiast over the years, it was a joy to practice both morning and evening and I could feel the tension melt away. Different areas of the garden were used for our sessions and one took place under a huge pine tree on the beach, all with the sound of the cicada beetles and the leaves rustling in the olive trees.

Before you think that this was a completely pure and healthy experience (my son even joked that it would be a silent retreat…..he knew I wouldn’t last long on that one!), sunset cocktails on the beach were an appreciated reward for our efforts on the mat.

And it wasn’t just yoga – there was hiking to a hidden beach, lazing by the pool and exploring by bike the Tuscan hills and the quaint, narrow streets of Tuscan villages that have yet to be discovered by the tourists.

All in all, my retreat experience was wonderful and has genuinely given me that feeling of “reset” that felt so necessary after a period of hard work. Without doubt, this will be something that I will look to do again, hopefully at the same place and maybe even with the same people. Lorenza mentioned that she also runs yoga and skiing retreats – now there’s a thought……

Sometimes in life, an unexpected event and a spontaneous decision can result in the most amazing of experiences and that was definitely the case this time. How fortunate am I to have a daughter who invites me to join her on an adventure, an ability to source cheap airline tickets and a healthy body that still allows me to practice yoga twice a day. During yoga, the mind is also exercised and, although I’m yet to master the art of meditation, I regularly acknowledge all that I have to feel grateful for in this life. This week, I am overwhelmed with gratitude towards my daughter, Lorenza and to this creaking old body that is slowly beginning to respond to a more gentle form of exercise. Namaste!

For once, I’m not behind Gloria’s wheel so can enjoy taking my eyes off the road to drink in the views of gorgeous swaying maize fields and endless lines of grapevines, along with the occasional picturesque tiny French village. I’m sat in the back of Kevin’s car, attempting to make out the odd word of French whilst reflecting on how my mad, crazy roadtrip which has incorporated five detours to Los Angeles has somehow just got even crazier! I’ll come to how I ended up travelling with Kevin later but, in the meantime, let’s pick up from Basque Country – one of my favourite regions of the entire trip. Not knowing when I would ever have the opportunity to travel to these more distant parts again, most of my time has been spent in the Iberian peninsula, leaving me with a serious stretch of driving ahead. However, with an excellent audiobook to keep me company and constantly changing panoramic views, the miles just melted away. After a big shift on the road, it was good to spend an afternoon in Bordeaux to stretch my legs – although they didn’t get much stretching as yet another mode of transport was discovered; the electric scooter. And after all my city sightseeing on the trip so far, I’ll admit to having a slight case of ‘cathedral-fatigue’, so a couple of laps of it at 25kph was the perfect way to experience it……and is now officially my favourite way to see a big city! Most of the time though, I was just zooming up and down the river with a huge smile on my face…..I’m a convert!!

That night was spent amidst the grapevines within a small vineyard in the middle of nowhere – a perfect spot with just a short stroll to the evening wine tasting. Motorhoming midst wine country is just such a perfect combination, thanks to the generosity of the vineyard owners – so much better to buy a couple of bottles of wine than pay for a crowded campsite….. a win-win solution!

Time to return to work and Gloria is (lovingly!) dumped in Poitiers Airport for the return to London – the flight to Stansted being considerably cheaper and shorter than the train ride down to Sussex, which just never makes sense. Poitiers has very few international flights, so this time Gloria is parked up just a few minutes from the arrivals hall – at least I won’t have the shock of seeing her being driven along at speed by some random man when I get back!!

After yet another flight to Los Angeles (other Virgin destinations are available…..just clearly not for me right now) and it’s time to return “home” to Gloria for the last chunk of the roadtrip. Catastrophe strikes on the journey to Stansted airport as the Dartford Tunnel is blocked. Disaster! Surely with all the miles driven and flights taken in the past few weeks, I’m not going to fail at the final hurdle?? Sweating in the passenger seat, trying to find an alternative route to Stansted, my chauffeur (a.k.a. son – thanks George!) suggests, cool as a cucumber, checking Gatwick flights. Turns out there’s a flight to Nantes and the decision is made just one minute before reaching the M25 to go the opposite way; it might just work, despite having no clue on how to reach Poitiers……I anticipate an adventure ahead.

Public transport options aren’t great; train the following day (5 hours) or bus arriving at midnight (7 hours). Gloria, however, was being driven away within 3 hours, her driver having caught a bus, two trams and seen some of Nantes centre too. Intrigued? It’s all thanks to Blablacar – a ride sharing App that hooks drivers up with passengers; a great facility, especially in these environment-conscious times and something from which the UK could really benefit.

My day in the Loire Valley was spent in a bit of a jet-lagged haze with one castle rather blurring into another. It really is the most stunning place with so many opportunities for great bike rides and kayak trips, so is yet another destination that has been added to my ‘places to revisit’ list. The highlight of the day was hiking out from yet another small vineyard that evening to experience the sunset from the banks of La Loire.

My final day on the Continent was spent hanging out with a friend in Vitré, yet another intriguing medieval town with a fairytale castle and old half-timbered houses.

Before reaching the ferry, there was the all-important wine run to undertake (as if I hadn’t filled Gloria up from all those vineyards on the way……but she’s a portly old girl with a rather ample rear which can accommodate a serious number of bottles) along with a final bath (just love the ease of using the self carwash wands on the Continent); Gloria is going to have to look her best for the days ahead. Little does she know it, but she is being put up for sale as soon as she arrives back on English soil. Feeling like a farmer taking one of their favourite cows to market, the closer we’ve got to the Channel, the more I’ve been aware of Gloria’s blissful ignorance of her impending fate.

Does this foretell an end to my days of roadtripping? No, absolutely not – it is, without question, the most liberating and satisfying way in which to experience this wonderful world of ours. And, as a solo female tourer, it has also been an empowering and enlightening experience. I’m not displeased with Gloria in the slightest – on the contrary, she has excelled in her duties in keeping me safe on the road and whilst I slept. No, it’s simply due to her large yet well-proportioned fulsome body and curves being simply too big for me; she’s at her happiest when transporting excited children around the country and it’s time for another family to experience life from her arms. As for me, a smaller, more lightweight and svelte sibling of Gloria is on the cards in a year or two, but before then it’s time for me to dream up my next adventure. Will this one be experienced from the road – or maybe from the air or over the sea?! Only time will tell – but one thing’s for sure, my days of “Wings, wheels and keels” are not over…..not by a long way, the world has certainly got many more adventures still in store for me!

FINAL ROADTRIP SUMMARY:

• 9,000 miles in total through 10 countries over 14 months

• Not one single crowded, noisy campsite on the return – just wild camping with views to die for!

• Too many beaches of exquisite beauty to number

• A large number of vineyards too!

• Many, many miles by foot through fascinating towns and stunning countryside

• A few electric miles on two wheels

• One extraordinary game of pelota

• Hundreds of wonderful memories that will last a lifetime. Gloria has opened my eyes to the joys of roadtripping and also to the extraordinary beauty of the intriguing countries that lie just across that small strip of water. Thank you for everything, Gloria – I hope your new family love you as much as I did!

“Bom dia! Onde fica a casa de banho?” I’m at a traffic lights in northern Portugal and see the man in the car next to me looking at me strangely. Is it because I’m in a very rare GB-registered RH drive behemoth of a motorhome? Or that he’s not used to seeing a woman behind the wheel of such a vehicle? Or, because it appears that I’m talking to myself? For sure, he doesn’t know that I’m attempting to learn a few phrases in the difficult language of my adopted home – but actually maybe it’s all three……a mad Englishwoman talking to herself in a rather large campervan!

First of all, a quick recap on the adventures that have resulted in this northerly journey. It all started with the moment during the first lockdown when I feared that my beloved airline that have employed me for the last 26 years may not make it through the disaster created by the pandemic. Having recently moved to Portugal, I could see that dream disappearing until, in a moment of pure genius (madness?), I realised that my motorhome, currently up for sale in England, could provide the answer. Furloughed indefinitely, for the first time in my working life I finally had the time to undertake a serious roadtrip. So, last July Gloria (interested in finding out how she got her name?!) and I set off on a trip that would take us through 10 countries, driving 4,000 miles and experiencing the most extraordinary adventures (trip summary here). It was the perfect antidote to worrying about the turbulence in the airline industry – in fact, such was the enjoyment of the trip that my job had almost been forgotten about, the phone call from Virgin informing me of my recall whilst basking beside a lake in Spain coming as a complete surprise. I still had time to squeeze in a sailing course before starting my A350 course in Toulouse. Gloria had been parked up in a secure area near Seville airport and (no offence, Glo!), the sailing and flying were so absorbing that she had rather been forgotten about. However, once Portugal had been removed from the UK’s red list, I was keen to pick her up from Seville to go and explore the gorgeous Algarve coast in her. I was just so happy to be on the road in Gloria again, but with all coronavirus restrictions changing on a continual basis, I didn’t know if my border crossing would even be allowed. Holding my breath whilst going over the bridge, after an exhaustive examination it appeared that my documents were all in order (I have Portuguese residency, thank goodness) and the relief was palpable as I was waved through. I was BACK!! So tired, having started my journey in LA, I only made it as far as the very first beach – however, being the Algarve it was, of course, an absolute gem.

The following day I explored Tavira, a pretty coastal town that is popular with the expats, but soon realised that the coastline to the west of Faro is the one for me. I stayed right on the beach at Quinta da Lago – technically not allowed, but with the restaurants still shut there in the evenings, I hoped I’d escape anyone’s attention and was delighted to have this amazing beach all to myself. Little did I know that in just a few weeks, I would be back there for glorious drinks on the rooftop bar of the Bold Octopus……what a view to remember.

To be honest, I didn’t get much further than Vilamoura, the town where I have been living for the last year and a half. The place keeps drawing me back – not only because I love the tennis, golf, padel tennis, cycling, beach yoga and walks there – but also because of all the friends that I have made who have made me feel so welcome. Gloria soon became a fixture in the Tennis Club car park and I had no excuse not to get on court early every single morning!! All of this was made possible by my lovely friend Lisa who opened her home to me, ensuring I always got a good night’s sleep before and after a trip, had access to a washing machine and generally made me feel so welcome.

Spring drifted into summer and my intentions of driving Gloria back to the UK were put on the back burner as, quite simply, I was enjoying being back in the Algarve far too much. However, with the heat intensifying along with Gloria having well and truly outstayed her welcome (UK-reg vehicles are only allowed in the EU for 90 in every 180 days……another Brexit nightmare), it was finally time to start the big roadtrip home. This time, however, it was going to be a roadtrip with a difference, as I had the not-inconsiderable matter of a full-time job to undertake. So, during the planning phase of this trip, a variety of provincial airports were incorporated in order to fly back to London to go to work. I love travelling and I like a challenge, but this was going to be one hell of a mission!!

After a few lovely farewells, it was time to get behind the wheel again and head north.

It was such a magical feeling getting back on the road again and, with some awesome tunes on, I just couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Stopping at the world’s oldest cork tree and finding out some fascinating facts about this beautiful species (see here), I was sad to learn that Portugal’s famous trees are slowly being replaced by the fast-growing Eucalyptus trees.

The route north through the Alentejo region is notable for its endless rows of grapevines, so when Gloria started slowing down before a vineyard, I just couldn’t stop her turning into it to investigate! If only we weren’t on a deadline, as I could have quite happily spent the rest of that evening sampling their delicious wines. As it was, I may have stocked up for the journey – well, at €2/bottle, it would have been rude not to!

Finally, I walked along to the pier at Alcochete, which afforded me terrific views north towards the city of Lisbon and was my last stop before depositing Glo at the airport long stay car park. Okay, so I only managed one day on the road before abandoning her at an airport, but it was a good little warm-up and meant I was now committed to continuing; airport parking is not a good long term option.

After a quick flight to New York(!), it was back to pick up my home, throw off my uniform and become a traveller once again. I headed for Nazaré, hoping to be lucky to see the giant waves that have been made so famous by the geography of the underwater landscape (see here). Sadly, it was a millpond that day – somewhere to return to when the surf is up.

Batalha Monastery was the first stop of the day – normally, I prefer experiencing a place by hiking or biking, but the plethora of remarkable and magnificent ancient cathedrals in Northern Portugal has turned me into a more regular tourist. A UNESCO World Heritage site from the 14th Century, it was built after a battle (hence the name) against the Kingdom of Castile which guaranteed Portugal’s independence as a Kingdom. Interestingly, another result from this battle is that it reinforced the Anglo-Portuguese Alliance which is the oldest existing alliance in the world. Not only am I discovering dazzling scenery in my adopted country, but also the depth of its history – until now, my knowledge of Portuguese history didn’t stretch much further than Henry the Navigator……whose tomb, coincidentally, lies in this monastery.

Next, it was on to Coimbra (pronounced Quimbra), full of ancient buildings and built on a steep hill above a large river, its crowning glory being the ornate buildings of the University. Having met a few past students and heard such great things about it, I was keen to see it firsthand. Reputed to be the second oldest University in the world and the country’s former capital, it is full of character and history. It also accepts the most number of International Students and, as I wandered around the awe-inspiring grounds (yet another UNESCO site), I pondered upon what Masters I could register for, as an (extremely mature!) mature student. That’s unlikely ever to happen but, judging by the state of my non-existent Portuguese, maybe I can just come and study the language here for a while instead?! Por favor?!

Always pulled by the draw of the ocean and, with a full day of sightseeing complete, it was time to find a parking spot for the night. My research unearthed a perfect spot behind the sand dunes of the gorgeous Praia da Costa Nova beach and amongst the characterful stripey houses of this coastal village.

Northern Portugal is green and verdant and with good reason – it rains a lot more here. The cool air is a relief after the scorching summer temperatures of the Algarve, but meant that I didn’t quite get the full effect of the beauty of Portugal’s “Little Venice”, Aveiro. It was quaint, charming and certainly different seeing gondola-type boats of tourists floating through its canals.

Once inland, the skies cleared and the drive north took me through mountainous countryside with small red-roofed villages surrounded by endless grapevines in scenes reminiscent of Tuscany. I was heading to Arouca, the site of the world’s longest pedestrian bridge and was taking the long route round, having consulted my ‘Co-pilot’ App – after stopping traffic in Austria, this app has proved invaluable. Today, however, it failed me as, time and time again, it was determined to take me up little mountain tracks that would have been an ordeal in a 4×4. Finally, and frustratingly, I declared myself beaten by the mountain passes and headed on to a campsite at Amarante. The extra driving through the Douro Valley was a pleasure nevertheless, with some good tunes on and extraordinary views around every corner. The beauty of having your home on your back is that you can make things up as you go along and not follow a set route……ending up in this lovely old town, spreadeagled on a tributary of the Douro River, it would never have been discovered if my original plan had worked out – the benefits of going off-piste!

Next stop was Gerês National Park. I enjoyed the journey there until my sat nav took me down a road that was single track only – and, in addition, was at such a steep gradient that it was all I could do to stop my nose hitting Gloria’s windscreen. Knowing straight away that this was Gloria-unfriendly territory (visions of having to reverse Gloria all the way back up to the junction – yeah, thanks Co-pilot app!), I was relieved to see a car park around the next bend. I stopped there, wiped my sweaty palms and checked to see how far it was to the waterfall I was on a mission to find. 4.5 miles. Well, I was planning on doing a hike anyway, so why not hike the rest of it??! What I hadn’t catered for was that, although only 4.5 miles away, the mountainous terrain meant that it was either steeply up or down for that entire distance! The views were beautiful though, so I enjoyed the hike, but arrived at the waterfall in such a hot and sweaty mess that its cool waters were a joyful relief; the cascading pools of the waterfall were well worth the effort. After drying out on a rock and basking in the sun, I decided that there was no way that I was going to hike all the way ‘home’ again. I knew this road was just carrying tourists, so it wasn’t long before I found myself squeezed in the back of a car with four Polish guys in their twenties!! It was fun being part of their roadtrip for a little while, stopping for food and photos along the way. They found it hard to believe that I had walked all that way and, although I had explained that I was driving a motorhome, their eyes popped out of their heads when they saw the size of her. Another few people in the world thinking “strange English woman”!

After the exertion, I slept well beside the river in Valença, the most northerly town in Portugal. I couldn’t resist staying on the Portuguese side of the border, despite having to set my alarm at some ungodly hour to ensure that I had Gloria safely parked at Vigo airport, don my uniform and re-enter the civilised world as a commuting pilot, flying back for a trip to LA via Brussels.

This really is the most unusual road trip……ever.

Now I’ve arrived in Spain, I’ll have to stop listening to those Portuguese lessons (the music generally won the battle anyway!) and try my hand at Spanish instead. So…..”donde esta el aeropuerto??!”

Thoughts so far:

• Portugal is the most extraordinary country; full of incredible old historical towns, stunningly beautiful scenery from mountains to beaches and (generally) great weather. I may be biased, but this country really does have it all.

• Portuguese wine is top-notch (hic!)

• Don’t trust the sat nav and always have an escape plan

• Hiking distance isn’t relevant if near-vertical gradients are involved

• Why does nomadic have ‘mad’ in it??! 🤷‍♀️🤔😂

“How does it feel to get back in the air after so much time on furlough?” and “What does it take to retrain to get your skills back?” are just a couple of questions I am asked by Chris Haslam of the Sunday Times (see article here), as he recognised that his aviation enthusiast readers (aka ‘avgeeks’!) wanted to know about the ins and outs of the retraining of an airline pilot.  Although there’s no way I can compete with a professional writer on this front, I thought I’d share my own perspective on the retraining process with you……

First off, it was annual SEP – Safety and Emergency Procedures, covering a wide range of different areas such as Fire & Smoke, Human Factors, Security and a general briefing on the latest in the constantly changing Company plan.  It was great to get back in the Office and meet up with old colleagues, although what used to be a 2 or 3 day course has, like so many courses, become mainly online learning and meant that we were only in the Office for one day.  There are some things that absolutely can’t be done at home, such as opening an aircraft door or putting out a simulated fire!  The Manager’s briefing was fascinating, as we heard about the challenges that the airline has faced during the pandemic and the general plan going forward; it’s clear that Virgin has become much more streamlined and flexible, having to adapt to an ever-changing landscape.  For instance, it’s currently keeping it’s head above water largely through cargo-only flights which is a first in it’s 36 year old history.

Now onto the crucial part – getting requalified on type.  Before being put on furlough I’d been flying the Airbus330, but these aircraft were still grounded, meaning retraining onto the A350.  This is our new large aircraft that has only just come into service to replace our retiring 747 fleet and I simply couldn’t wait to get my hands on it!  But before I could be sent off to Airbus HQ in Toulouse, my A330 rating had to be revalidated (for the Avgeeks out there, the A330/A350 is a common type rating and eventually I will be flying both as a “single fleet”), meaning two days in the simulator, consisting of 2 hours pre- and post-briefing and 4 hours in the “box”.  We had just the first day to practice all our normal and abnormal procedures and then straight into the checkride the following day – a real baptism of fire.  However, it all came flooding back -a relief after such a long time off and a pleasing benefit of all those years of flying the big jets and proof that our long-term memories really do work!

Next, it was off to Toulouse for a week of ground school followed by a week of simulator training. Having completed numerous type ratings throughout my career, this was my first course to be conducted by the Manufacturer’s, something I felt very fortunate to be able to do. The city itself is absolutely beautiful and, although France was in full lockdown mode, it was still wonderful to walk along the river and through the city streets to clear the head after a busy day at work – and, of course, being pilots, we still managed to find a local watering hole that was serving drinks through a hole in the wall!

Groundschool was hard work, the computer-based training making your eyes cross and your head hurt by the end of the day, but there’s no escaping computers these days. It was a relief to get the exam in the bag and move onto the simulator phase where we had a superb ex-French Air Force lady pilot to take us through the course. And, right from the start, my sim partner Rob and I realised what a monumental step-up this amazing new aircraft is and were suitably impressed by it. There’s nothing that hasn’t been carefully thought through by Airbus – it’s extremely ergonomic and intuitive, having lots of extra bells and whistles and flies like a dream…..well, certainly in the simulator, but how about for real??!

I hoped that I might be lucky enough to get a tour around the assembly line and managed to secure not one, but two tours. The first was to visit one of our very own aircraft which I will soon be flying around the world; G-VTEE is named “Rosie Lee” (I love our aircraft names – do read this fascinating article about how they get their names here) and was going through her final checks before being picked up by a couple of Virgin pilots. It was a bit like going to a car showroom, with that distinctive new smell along with plastic everywhere to ensure that the swarm of technicians going over every minute detail on the airframe would not cause any damage.

After my training at Airbus was complete, my friend in Sales very kindly organised for me to have an exclusive tour around the factory. It was incredible to see these huge behemoths on an enormous assembly line and gave me a real insight into how parts that are manufactured in the UK, Spain, Germany and other parts of France all come together, a truly logistical feat. After the tour, I was treated to a 5 course lunch in the VIP Suite – a huge thanks to Isabelle for organising such an interesting a unique day for me!

My Line Training consisted of two flights to JFK with a Training Captain in the right-hand seat, followed by a Checkride to Lagos and finishing off with a Final Line Check back to JFK. The aircraft really lived up to my expectations and is an absolute joy to fly and, after 2.5 months of training, it’s nice to go back to being just a regular Line Captain. My first two flights have been cargo ‘exemption’ flights to Johannesburg; the exemption is from the CAA to allow us to operate a 27 hour duty, as we cannot enter South Africa with the current Covid restrictions. It requires 7 pilots and 4 cabin crew to complete and takes a vital 30+ tonnes of cargo in each direction – it’s certainly strange to experience the aircraft cabin without any passengers but it’s a great team effort and brings vital cash into the Company. The cargo department have been instrumental in securing these valuable contracts – the latest one being a trip to Seoul with a shuttle to Xiamen, a trip that I will be doing a couple of times next month. Interesting times!

I hope you’ve enjoyed a little window into the world of an airline pilot and what is required for us to be revalidated and ensure that our skills and proficiency is at top level. I also sincerely hope that, in the not-too-distant future, pandemic-permitting, you will one day be able to be transported away somewhere exotic on one of our brand new A350s and experience firsthand the beauty of flight in this futuristic new jet. If you do, and you hear my voice over the PA, please do come up and say hallo and I can show you around my amazing office when we land!

“Watch out down below…..tacking” came booming down the companionway, prompting me to grab all the charts, pencils, plotters and dividers I’d been using and vainly try to hang onto them while the boat lurched from a port to a starboard tack – an incline change down below of what felt like 40 degrees. One minute all I could see blue sky and fluffy clouds out of the porthole while the next it was full-on sea horses on a rolling, boiling sea and the stove on its gimbals was at yet another crazy angle. This was becoming the norm on this particular leg of the journey where we were fielding gusts of up to 30 knots and, despite 3 reefs in the Main, we were racing along at 7 knots. Once I’d retrieved the items that had inevitably escaped, I got back to work on my course to steer, as the boat still needed one despite the ridiculous angle of the nav station. Why not use a GPS? Well, that would be too easy and wouldn’t teach us how to revert to the “old fashioned” way of doing things in the event of equipment failure – I was here to learn and that I was certainly doing!

And just what was I learning?! Well, halfway through my big European road trip, I had decided to spend a couple of months doing something that had always been on my bucket list – a Yachtmaster’s course. Not only did I want to become a better sailor, but with the aviation industry in shreds due to the pandemic, it seemed like a good time to get requalified in a different industry…….particularly as I had seen how my daughter had managed to land such a plum job on a Superyacht for the summer (see jobseeking). Of course, the day I booked the course up was the exact same day that Virgin called me back to work – you couldn’t make it up! Fortunately, they gave me a couple of months notice which was exactly what I needed to make it happen.

I chose to do the course in Gibraltar for a number of reasons – it’s tidal, has generally good weather, has a high shipping density due to the Straits of Gibraltar giving plenty of experience……and is also somewhere I’d never been! I found an excellent RYA school there called Allabroad who were very helpful in tailoring the course to my requirements – fortunately, my time on the water meant that I didn’t have to do the full 15 weeks, but could complete it in under half that time. For the first week, I was still living in Gloria with the “Waterboys” (see waterboys) and we had the extraordinary experience of biking over the runway to Gibraltar morning and evening as the (excellent!) motorhome parking was in a marina in the Spanish town of La Linea…..talk about combining my three loves of aviation, sailing and road tripping all in one week!

This first week was for our Commercial endorsement and entailed exploits such as climbing into a dinghy sporting an enormous immersion suit in a freezing cold salt water pool at night. Then there was a packed day fighting full-blown fires in a rig whilst wearing proper breathing apparatus at Gibraltar airport along with learning how to roll out and attach the huge hoses. In comparison, the First Aid and safety training, along with the Human Factors training sounds tame, but it was just as valuable. This was similar to training that I complete annually with the airline but with a different focus and it was good to see how the safety training compared.

Following this was a week of sail training mainly within the Bay, but with one trip further afield to Ceuta – a city on the continent of Africa but still part of Spain. It is also the southern “Pillar of Hercules” (Gibraltar being the northern one) and has a fascinating and convoluted history, so was really worth seeing.

After my week on the water, I then had a couple of weeks off to plough through the online Yachtmaster Theory course – there was a huge amount to absorb if I was going to stand a chance of passing my test at the end, so I parked Gloria on a deserted beach in Southern Spain and worked my way through it. I couldn’t have asked for a better view while studying – and, of course, swimming, walking and surfing on the beach was the perfect antidote to all that studying!

I did have a slight reprieve from the books, as I flew back to England for a day in order to pick up my car – and another very quick roadtrip followed. The ferry to Bilbao was uneventful and, before long, my “Toy car” and I were unloaded and hurtling southwards. The cool drizzle dissipated as I headed south and, before long, the top down was down, the tunes were on full volume and I was pulling into Salamanca for a leg stretch – yet another beautiful and captivating city. The journey continued through the stunning wild, rolling hills of central Spain – in fact, I enjoyed the drive so much that I decided to press on and made it all the way back to the Southern tip of Spain in one go – a solid 10 hours on the road, definitely a “shift and a half”!!

My theory exam complete, I had one more logistical exercise to complete before returning to the yacht in Gibraltar – I had to find somewhere to park Gloria long term. After plenty of internet searching, I decided on a facility in Seville and she is now having a well earned rest for the winter!

So, back to the sailing and a 12 day “mile builder”, sailing from Gib to Lagos on the southwestern tip of Portugal. We left at 2am, as there were still reports of orcas ramming sailing boats (extremely odd behaviour….read about it here orca), so we wanted to pass Trafalgar Point in daylight. Our trip wasn’t just a straight line, as there were plenty of ports along the way where we just ‘poked our noses in’ for the practice in navigation and close-quarters manoeuvring, so we ended up having 4 nights at sea to reach the furthest point. It was lovely to be back in Portugal where I introduced the crew to the delights of the traditional ‘Pastel de nata”, although it has to be said that the marina shower was almost as big a treat! We then worked our way back along the Algarve coast and stopped for an hour in Vilamoura where my great friend Wilza baked us all a cake 😋

Needless to say, we learnt a huge amount on this trip – not only on the navigation side of things, but also doing endless man overboard and ‘pontoon bashing’ exercises. Finally, we were ready for our “prep” week, where we were drilled on all the different elements that we could expect in our exam – and, at last, all the lights and sound signals were becoming engrained, as we could be tested on any aspect of seamanship and were expected to know everything from knots to flags to reasonably in-depth workings of the diesel engine. Every evening, we were completing a “passage plan” that we had been assigned to show the examiner to demonstrate our understanding of concepts such as tidal streams, time zones and calculating a course to steer.

Exam day was finally upon us – the examiner arrived at 11am and didn’t leave until midnight, so it was a long and gruelling 13 hours of being under test. The examiner did his best to put us at our ease and there were no big surprises – we just had to demonstrate our abilities and answer questions on anything at any time. My biggest task was to sail alongside a pontoon with simulated engine failure – while having to negotiate a rowing race too – I mean, I practice engine failures in the simulator, but at least the aircraft has brakes!! Once I had successfully moored up, I could at last appreciate the most stunning sunset and cheekily asked the examiner to take a photo of us!

Now, as a qualified Yachtmaster Offshore, there’s a chance that I may never even use my new qualification, but I have put myself on various yacht delivery websites and am hoping that friends may want a Skipper to take them sailing occasionally 🤞😁 But, with Gloria safely parked in her home in Seville, it’s time to change the sailing chip to a flying one, as I’ve got to get my head around getting back into the skies after my extraordinary time on furlough. It was great fun swapping my wheels for a keel, but now it’s time to swap the keel for a pair of wings!

“What’s the difference between a canyon and a gorge?” I’m asked, as I’m standing on a small plank of wood suspended 100m in the air and attached, precariously it seems, to a sheer cliff face. Quite honestly, I don’t really care right now, as I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, trying not to look down through the gaps in the wooden walkway at the river a LONG way below me. I’m at the start of the Caminito del Rey, the King’s Path, once known as Europe’s most dangerous walkway. As I get used to the vertiginous drops, I realise I don’t know the answer to that question – however, it’s irrelevant as, whether it be canyon or gorge, it’s a pretty spectacular sight!

Encouragingly, the path has now been restored so is completely safe, but there are still moments when your heart is in your mouth as you look over the edge to witness the river gushing through below, particularly when standing on a clear glass platform.

The narrow path is pinned to the cliff’s side and makes its way through this tiny natural slit in the rock for about 4 miles, so there’s plenty of time to soak up the scenic beauty and marvel at the audacity of nature.

Joining me on this incredible hike are my son and his mate Bobby – it’s perfect to experience this with fellow thrill-seekers and adrenaline junkies! These two have known each other through top level dinghy/skiff sailing, surfing holidays, Scottish wild camping and loch swimming……basically, anything connected to water. The “Waterboys” (just had to be, with that introduction!) were meant to be teaching sailing in New York right now, but Covid had other plans for them and I’m the beneficiary, as it’s just lovely having them along for the ride.

We had arrived at the reservoir (formed by one of the dams connected to the hydroelectric power plant that required the construction of this precarious path over 100 years ago) the day before and the Waterboys relaxed by its Caribbean-like turquoise waters while I trekked through the mountain to the ticket booth. This trek has been on my bucket list for years and is booked up months ahead……but I’d heard rumour that a few tickets get released on the day, so was compelled to check it out. Yes, the hour’s hike (partly through a slightly spooky tunnel) was worth it, although it would be a very early start to ensure that we were there in time to get the golden tickets.

By the time we’ve had a beer overlooking this blue-est of lakes, got all our ingredients and cooking implements together, hiked down to a picnic table at the water’s edge and cooked our dinner under the stars, it didn’t turn out to be the early night that we had planned, as we tried to find our way back to Gloria in the pitch black at midnight!

After completing this wondrous walk, we got bussed back to the start (the pathways aren’t designed for passing traffic, so north-south is the only option) and I marvelled at how the bus driver took on the windy mountain path so effortlessly. At one point, we passed another bus just at the apex of a hairpin bend with just inches to spare, reinforcing my approach of taking these mountain roads at a snail’s pace when behind Gloria’s wheel! A truly relaxing afternoon by the side of the reservoir was in order after our early start and exertions of the morning.

Now fully relaxed and recovered, we head to Ronda, a place that I’d heard about since my childhood as my grandparents had loved it. Cycling up to the famous Puente Nuevo (the “new bridge” was started in 1759, giving some indication of the character of this charming old moorish town in Andalusia, one of the oldest in Spain), we’ve timed it just right as the sun is close to the horizon and it looks even more dazzling in the late evening glow.

Another late night, as we had to cycle back to camp (bit of a race UPHILL!) and cook (delicious steaks cooked by George!) and cool the sweatbox down (Endless Breeze fan, best £100 ever spent!). However, the following morning was a relaxed and chilled one, as we had treated ourselves to a campsite (essential about once a week to get everything charged, fill up with water and have a general sort out) and we appeared to be almost the only guests, so had the beautiful pool all to ourselves.

The Waterboys are now in charge of our route and they found an oasis underneath a huge cave for us to spend the afternoon. The water was incredibly cold, so I chose to read my book – and when I heard the lifeguard whistle, I was in no doubt that the Waterboys were responsible. Sure enough, they had found a way to climb up behind the waterfall and jump in!

Very sensibly, the route-planners decide to skirt the huge HOT city of Seville and carry on further to find a spot beside a river – but at the end of a 3 mile long downhill single track road. There was some slight trepidation from Gloria’s driver at this, but nearly 7 weeks on the road has increased confidence and. dauntlessly, I just got on with it. Definitely the right decision, as it’s a wonderful wild camping spot and we enjoy our meal under the stars, listening to the splashes of some VERY big fish …..the talk of ‘River Monsters’ TV show finding a 4m fish in a Spanish lake puts me off swimming til the morning though. However it was worth waiting for and, clean and refreshed, I wait for the Waterboys to cook my brunch!

Whilst they decide on our route for the day (so long as it involves one of the items from the title, then we’ll all be happy – I’ve put in a request for a vineyard stop tonight too, if so I’ll be doubly happy!), I look up the answer to that initial question; a gorge is a deep cleft that usually contains a river whilst a canyon is a cleft between escarpments. Gorge it is then!

• Thoughts so far:
• Canyons and gorges are both deep valleys – a gorge sometimes is a ravine which is narrower than a canyon. Confused?!
• There were 5 deaths at Caminito del Rey around 2000, causing the government to close it.
• Ronda is home to Spain’s oldest Bullring and is divided by a ravine with the Grande River at the bottom…..but doesn’t then that make it a gorge?!
• The Sierra Nevada Mountains of Andalusia are the only place in Europe where you can ski in the morning and bask on a beach in the afternoon.
• Portugal is the 11th largest wine producer in the world (hic! 😝)

Footnote: Written in the midst of grapevines in the Alentejo – wish 2 granted!

“Absolutely not!” is the reaction I get to my suggestion that we cycle the hour and a half along the beach into Valencia. Turning to look at the face that uttered these words, I can’t help but break into a fit of giggles; red-faced, beads of perspiration on his upper lip and rivulets beginning to form in his (rather long!) hair. Who is this obstinate cycle-ride-avoider?? It’s my son George, fresh from 2,000 miles driving around Scotland, climbing Ben Nevis, wild camping every night along with surfing/camping in Cornwall – obviously, the apple never falls far from the tree 👌😁

On reflection, I agree that Ben Nevis Boy has got a point, as it’s 35 degrees in the shade and Gloria has turned into a sauna 🔥 So a safe parking spot is found just 10’ from the City and mutiny is narrowly avoided! We start our exploration at the City of Arts & Sciences

Valencia planners were so clever to use this huge drained area where the river previously ran (after a huge flood in 1957, the river was rerouted) and turn it into a 4 mile picturesque park

To say that this City exceeded all my expectations is an understatement – the place is extraordinary on so many levels, combining exciting modern architecture and graceful old plazas with fountains, medieval landmarks and huge, wide, tree-lined avenues.

Biking around this city is a joy (yes, even for Ben Nevis Boy (BNB), who has realised that the air movement provided by cycling is like having a fan on full-blast…….maybe his old mum isn’t so crazy after all?!) as, not only are there cycle lanes throughout the city, they are generally separated from the traffic by a small boundary that feels very protective. We cycle into the heart of the city and come across a street food market area, stopping for a plate of paella…..essential first meal in Spain 🇪🇸and apparently born in Valencia.

Carrying on cycling through tiny back alleys, we make a quick stop at the cathedral (home of the Holy Grail – maybe??) and I’m struck by how enormous most of the doors are here……and a lot of them don’t even seem to have small doors set within them. Must be quite an effort getting in and out 🤔

Knowing we have a long drive on our hands, we can’t resist the detour to spend time at Cuevo Turcho waterfall, a 60m drop into a blue-green oasis. The water is refreshingly cool and the whole place is just stunning…..

Just before we left, two climbers in wetsuits were spotted repelling down the waterfall – another bucket list addition??

We spent that night just outside Pinosa, devouring delicious burgers (plant-based one for me – hard to tell the difference these days!) at Bar Mucho, a restaurant set up by a fellow European-roadtrip van lady.

Now on a mission to find the best waterfalls, the following day involves an hour’s detour for a natural beauty spot, Salto del Usero……

……before another long drive, passing the famous greenhouses of Almeria (they cover 31,000 hectares and can be seen from space), to the Sierra Nevada mountain range where we parked up in the mountains behind a huge wine warehouse and made supper under the stars.

The reason why we have to undertake such big drives is that BNB’s friend is arriving into Malaga airport the following evening, so we need to get another few hours on the road under our belt. However, we’ve spotted that on the way (well, only a 5 mile detour) is Junta de los Rios “the junction of two rivers” that we cannot possibly miss 🤩 Little did we know that those 5 miles would be on a small, uphill, windy road that took half an hour! Both on mountain bikes this time, we knew the 7km track to the start of the trail would be fun on the way down, especially with views like these……

We explored both gorges, with the larger one leading all the way up to more and more spectacular pools and waterfalls…..

Of course, we had to finish our amazing gorge day with a bit of cliff-jumping!

The ride back up the mountain wasn’t as bad as expected and neither was the drive back down the mountain, thank goodness. What WAS bad was arriving in Alora, the town we’d arranged to meet our next guest, and missing our parking spot. This required a drive right through the town’s horrendously tight and hilly one-way system in order to turn around. At one point, BNB had to exit Gloria in order to direct me through the narrowest lane possible, as I had to pull both wing mirrors in to get through. There were just a few centimetres either side of me and I heard afterwards that my awning was just millimetres from the (extremely scraped!) wall……certainly not for the faint-hearted and my closest “scrape” so far! Oh, to have been back in one of those refreshing cool pools once again!!

• Thoughts so far:
• Valencia was founded by the Romans and is Spain’s third largest city
• Valencia generates 51% of Spain’s GDP, as half of Spain’s working population is connected to it in some way through the port
• Paella originally included rabbit and sometimes snails!
• Almeria’s greenhouses reflect so much sunlight that they actually have a cooling effect
• The 165 square mile “sea of plastic” produces ~3.5 million TONS of fruit and veg, but with a terrifying environmental and human impact