The museum has a big hanger with all types of helicopters in it. I had no idea what they were, and in a typical girlie way decided which ones I liked best based on colour. My favourite was one with a rather fetching purple stripe on it, followed by a child sized version of Budgie the little Helicopter *sings the theme tune*. Another favourite was the one with leather seats and a drinks cabinet - ideal for long flights! Joe knows a bit more than me about helicopters (when I say a bit I actually mean an awful lot). He tried to teach me about the different parts and what they did. Hopefully my vigorous head nodding and ‘mmmmm’ noises convinced him that I a) was listening and b) understood!
Following the tour round the museum I decided that it couldn’t be that hard to fly a helicopter. As I have already mentioned that I couldn’t find anyone to let me fly their full sized helicopter I decided to take control of one of my dad’s model planes! Dad goes flying every Sunday in Weston, and so we decided to turn up unannounced at his field. The look on his face when I hurtled up in my Corsa was priceless! I managed to convince his friend to let me fly the club plane - though I was only allowed on the condition that it was on a buddylead so he could take control when I ‘mucked it up’.
I am pleased to report the plane is in one piece, though I did have a few hairy moments when I forgot which was left and right, and which stick moved the plane up (it is back to front on the controls - talk about confusing!!)
So if I decide that journalism is not for me I may put in for my pilots license. You never know, the next voice you hear on the plane to your perfect holiday destination could be mine! “This is your captain Laura speaking”.