Just a quick update to say we had a wonderful time at Birling Gap - my mother and my son both loved it, much to my relief.

The weather was IFR (in fact, we arrived a day later than initially planned to wait out a storm) but the South Downs still look beautiful in rain and mist - maybe even more so than in the sunshine.

We walked and ate and talked and walked some more - a great way to getaway. I can heartily recommend both the Thatched Bar at Birling Gap and the Beachy Head pub at, er, Beachy Head. Every meal we had was excellent, although I admit that coming in from the cold is an excellent spice for any meal. I’ve uploaded my favourite photographs of the weekend for you to see some of the sights.

We’re on the Isle of Mull now, at Ardachy House with its stunning views of Ardanalish Bay. Yesterday Connor and I walked 6km (he returned back to fling himself face down on the bed and swore never to move again) and I couldn’t stop saying “Isn’t this a pretty spot!” despite the obvious evidence that every step on the island led us to yet another pretty spot.

There was some last minute scurrying around to try to open Glenforsa airfield in time for us to fly in but the ground was a bit too damp. We used Oban airfield instead which has recently undergone renovations and has a new 1264m runway. It is a great airfield, easy to spot from miles away and as soon as we’d taxied off the runway, there were people coming out to help us unload the plane and organise a taxi. Very helpful and friendly. It was a quick trip from the airfield to the ferry where we sat in the bar and watched the mainland recede and the island come into view. A very comfortable trip, despite nasty 30 knot headwinds all the way in.

Barely home again before it’s time to go. Assuming the weather plays along, we’ll be taking the Saratoga out for an extended trip. We were initially planning an initial stop (well, if you don’t count refuelling) in Dublin, where my mother is at a conference. But having been away last weekend, things have backed up a bit so we’re going to miss Dublin this time around unfortunately. After all this time in the British Isles, I’ve never been to Ireland! I definitely need to get that sorted.

Instead, we’ll fly into North Weald and then meet my mother at Gatwick. We’re going to pick up my son and then all of us are going to spend the weekend at Birling Gap in East Sussex.

Birling Gap is a hamlet on the Seven Sisters cliffs on the South Downs. It consists of a single road ending in a parking lot, where you’ll find half a dozen fishing cottages, a hotel and a lifeguard station.

The Birling Gap Hotel describes itself as "a Victorian colonial style villa with its interior furnished in a 1930’s style". The walls are covered with a textured rose and cream wallpaper scattered with black and white photographs of beach goers, covered from their necks to their knees, frolicking on the beach. Dried flowers adorn the corners adding to the feeling of genteel decline.

We stayed there a few months ago on a whim, simply following the road from Beachy Head. A middle-aged woman sat at the front desk as we walked into the building. I imagined that when no one was looking she would stare gloomily at the doorway, muttering about outsiders causing havoc in their small inn. Her bright smile as she greeted us belied my fantasies but still, I couldn’t shake the feeling of DuMaurier’s Cornish inn, the men meeting late at night to drive the ships onto the rocks and keep the bounty.

We stayed in the room on the right in this photograph, overlooking the cliff, winter winds driving spray against our windows all night long. It was great. The next morning I went down the rickety stairs to the beach and walked for an hour.

The cliffs are eroding, a noticeable amount every year. The initial row of fishing cottages has already been removed to stop them slipping into the sea. From Birling Gap you are just in view of the Belle Tout lighthouse (now a private residence) whichwas moved back in 1999 to keep it from falling into the sea. A large information plaque informs visitors that the lighthouse will need moving again within the next hundred years, a rather unfortunate circumstance considering this information is right next to the For Sale sign.

I loved everything about the place. If ever I had to meet a stranger with only a moment to judge his character, I would arrange that meeting at the Thatched Bar to watch his reaction to Birling Gap.

Cliff shoved my shoulder. “Wake up.”

I squinted and realised it was still dark. The shutters act as my alarm clock but they weren’t due to rise for another half an hour. I ignored him and rolled over.
“Get up,” he said. “It’s your birthday.”

I put the pillow over my head.

“Wake up! Come on, you have to get packed.”

“You aren’t really sending me away because I’m old, are you?”

“Yes,” he said and then grinned when my eyes opened. “It’s a do-it-yourself birthday present. Get packed.”

I admit I was relieved when I saw that he was packing a bag as well. Suddenly I understood why he’d turned down a drink the night before. I’ve been on a diet and he said to wait to have a drink until my birthday - but of course he knew he’d be flying. Still, he wouldn’t tell me where we were going.

“Take three days worth. Expect warm days and cool nights. Make sure you have walking shoes and evening wear.”

That didn’t narrow it down much. “Give me a hint?”

“It’s a single hop.”

That narrowed it down considerably. I drew a circle in my head. “Portugal, France, Northern Africa,” I said.

“All of Spain,” he added. “And Gibraltar.”

“You’d be bored to tears if we spent three days in Gibraltar. And I wouldn’t need evening dress.”

I packed for Paris. I didn’t like to tell him how obvious it was, so I pretended that I was still thinking about it. A weekend of good food and expensive wine sounded quite nice and I could catch up on anything I missed at the hotel.

I admitted I’d worked it out on the way to the airfield. “Oh no,” he told me. “Too cold.”

Oh. I considered the other half of the circle.

“Menorca?”

“Too windy.”

Suddenly it clicked. A place I’d said repeatedly I wanted to go to. The sights of the souks, the comfort of the riads, the taste of chicken with preserved lemons and olives followed by mint tea, the sounds of the mosques calling the Muslims to prayer. The land of the Arabs and the Berbers.

Marrakesh.

I’ve talked about going there for years and even got so far as to investigate places to stay once, but something got in the way and Cliff was never that interested. Now I was finally going to go to this place I’d heard so much about. I was going to Marrakesh!

As we arrived at Málaga General Aviation, it dawned on me. “It’s a Muslim country. What about my birthday drink?”

“I suppose you’ll have to wait until next year.” He grinned as he got out of the car. “Happy Birthday!”

Jesus, look at the rocking of that plane, my stomach churns just watching the video. This was apparently shot yesterday in Hamburg. The pilot did the right thing, he went around. The person filming is commenting (in German) that the plane almost crashed. Watch at 0:42 and you can see a puff of smoke as the left wing touches the ground. That was incredibly close to being a disaster.

Edit: Airliners has a stunning photograph by Lars Tretau which shows the moment when the wing tip touched.

Also, there’s a brief write-up in English on Flight Global.

I’ve started a new feature! A somewhat eclectic but hopefully always interesting collection of blog posts, photos and news stories to do with aviation which I’ve found on the web. I’ve noticed a lot of my posts are pointers to other sites and I thought it would make sense to combine them into a single post. Let me know if you think there’s something interesting I missed.

This description of a crisis on a test flight sure made me sit up straight:

Then the SR-71 literally disintegrated around us. From that point, I was just along for the ride. And my next recollection was a hazy thought that I was having a bad dream.

There’s no question, he’s lucky to be alive. I don’t think I’d ever fly again.

Of course, as pilots we do all we can do give luck a helping hand. I sit back and think of England is a interesting post about passenger reaction to safety routines:

I can understand why passengers would be taken aback to learn that the pilot is thinking about such a thing. They were thinking about how funny cows look from on top, or about how a lot more people have swimming pools than they expected. I can see them being frightened by the reminder that the engine could quit.

Flightblog.aero has a stunning photograph with a title which says it all: I always feel compelled to snap a photo of the wing … every flight, every time. I’m glad it’s not just me. And well, wow, what a shot.

While we’re looking at pictures, take a look at this fun selection of travel photographs, including this classic one showing why you should always learn the local language.

And finally, the latest fuss in the commercial aviation world is centered around Southwest Airlines again (the airline that rejected a passenger for having her skirt too short). Two teenagers claimed the airline was “just discriminating against because we were young decent-looking girls” after they were escorted off the plane by security. The news report quickly hit YouTube and discussion has been heated. with Gadling straight out accusing them of being spoiled brats. Southwest clearly learned from the earlier incident and decided to set the record straight immediately - on YouTube, an interesting decision considering the amount of viral attention the scandal was getting.