Curse of a Pilot

Have you ever had that moment where you look around you, and I mean really look, and say to yourself "how on earth did I get here?". I don't mean geographically obviously because the answer would more than likely be I drove, or walked or something equally mundane. Well even if you haven't, I had that moment the other day. I was sitting in the bus on the way from the hotel to Training and I happened to let my mind wander and my gaze glaze over. When the world came back into focus I literally felt like the wind had been knocked out of me and over and over in my head came the question "how did I get here?". I'm married. I've moved to the Middle East. I'm doing an Airbus conversion on an aircraft that is enormous. I'm 25!!!! All of it entirely possible given enough time and experience, but ME? I cannot comprehend where the last 5 years have gone, let alone the ones before that. HOW DID I GET HERE?!?!

I feel like I am watching a movie, and this movie doesn't have a lead actor but it has numerous supporting roles and as I watch the movie I realise that one or more of those supporting actors are actually me. The movie keeps playing whether I am paying attention or not and I suddenly find I have missed a few scenes and there I am again in a different supporting role wondering how I got there.

In the literal sense of the question, I am in France. In Toulouse to be precise and to be even more accurate, I am in a hotel that I have been in before, 19 years ago. The first time I stayed here I doubt I would have noticed how dirty the streets are, how there is a semi-naked woman on every corner or how cigarette buts cover more of the road than the tarmac does. Last time it was my dad making the trip into Airbus, to talk about the A330, to write manuals, take delivery of one of the first completed aircraft and to be as shocked as everyone else when the test aircraft crashed here, killing everyone on board. I don't remember much myself, I remember a sunday market with a rotisserie chicken, my brother being sent our for lettuce and returning with a cabbage and my mother chasing after two thieves who had stolen our fishing equipment from the river bank. I have seen a letter I wrote to my dad after the fatal accident, clearly my 6 year old brain couldn't appreciate the gravity of the situation but the sentiment is there.. and there are pictures, a carefully drawn crashing aircraft, green money signs to show how much money was lost.. and the only words on it that really matter "I'm glad you weren't on it Daddy".

19 years later and here I am, travelling to Airbus to learn to fly the A330. If you wrote it in a script, no one would believe it. Although the documents have been updated and the training course revised, I bet there is still something from my dad's days in there somewhere. If for the rest of my life I only ever follow in his path, I know I will have a pretty awesome career, and if I do get to fly a plane he hasn't then he will still be the first person I want to tell.

So here I am, stressed to the eyeballs and to be honest loving the Airbus...  I said it! I know, I know..I can hear the laughter already. I give in. This thing is incredible! Although I do still think that it is slowly putting pilot's out of a job and is a much more boring aircraft to fly compared to the Boeing. I want to fly a plane not feel like I'm playing flight sim at home! Word of the month has to be: Automatic. What do I do if there is a fire on the tail engine.. nothing, it's automatic. What do I do if there is a failure on the fuel pumps.. nothing, its automatic. What do I do when I need a cup of tea... nothing, it's automatic! ha! Ok, so the last one is a little rude but still funny.

I have realised over the last few days how much the Middle East already feels like home, I miss it already and I can't help thinking what is going on over there. What is the weather like, is the beach busy, is our flat ok.. I am looking forward to getting back and getting settled. I am missing England too, I speak to my parents fairly often which is nice, and I seem to have transferred my incessant emailing on to them, but they haven't told me to stop yet so I suppose they don't mind too much. It is pretty much silent on the friend front, I hear from one via text and facebook, she always leaves me a little note which cheers me up but the rest are eerily quiet. I knew it would happen, I had practice in Scandinavia after all and if this is my life now then it looks like it's time to make some new friends.

Through all the changes and adventures happening at the moment I am bound to feel a little uneasy. Too much too quickly? Too far too fast? Only time will tell on those and for now I am only left with a very strange feeling. I feel like I am missing something. No it's not my keys, or anything else physical, just a feeling. I have a niggle at the back of my mind. Something is not right and I cannot put my finger on what it is. It is like I have scratched some paper from a parcel to find more paper underneath, and every time you scratch more off, more paper is revealed. It doesn't make you feel anything as you reveal the layers but it makes you more determined to find out what is inside. It's a "hairs on the back of your neck" moment, an instinct that you are compelled to follow. I don't know what it is, where it is, or why it is but I WILL find out.