the journey begins

                                                         1

        He had a vision.  He had a dream to fly an aeroplane to Australia. A light aircraft. He had a dream……….

It is a mystery. This country, this island, these people, always searching for a challenge. The Englishman and the Empire. He is no ordinary man, his is no ordinary plane.

I believe nothing happens without a reason and it is not a New Age viewpoint. I know it inside me. I always did. David wanted to fly himself to Australia since he can remember. The journey has a symbolic meaning for an aviator. He did try before. He didn’t succeed. Now when we found each other somehow I know it will be possible.

On the first of November, the very day we begin our journey no one reflects on the fact that today we will follow the trail of the Red Empire, perhaps until the end, until the Terra Incognita.

Somehow I, between the packing of our things, the hectic conversations with his parents, our first disagreement that brings me to tears, between all these things I realize that it is not going to be a romantic voyage in the 1930’s style, with us flying in impeccable, tailor-made suits to Australia.

He never asks me if I like flying, he takes it for granted. I am deadly afraid of flying. The Aegean ships take me from place to place, from island to island. This is the way I travel. I consider it natural, at a pace which harmonizes the one of my body. But the Aegean is not here today or rather I am not there. I am in Britain. And from here I am going to risk my life. Why? Everyone asks me. Why? I know why. I am in love.

The plane. The first thing you notice is the colour, a light shade of blue. It is a Gardan Horizon, made exactly forty years ago. I have been a witness to putting this plane back together during the last week. It seems too diminutive, too vulnerable, too weak. Now, this requires from me an extraordinary state of faith. I will find it. We will fly to Australia.

There are three types of Gardan Horizon, almost nobody knows of them, not even the aviators. Only two hundred of them were made, in France designed by Yves Gardan. David found her two years ago, it is a GY 80. She has a name, the Starmist Clipper but she will be known across the Red Empire as G-ATGY (Golf Alfa Tango Golf Yankee), her registration, her call sign.   

Flying. Everyone who flies knows that flying is not really about flying. It is about superhuman concentration, it is about nerves of steel, it is about self-control and it is about absolute denial of death. David possesses all of these characteristics. He is all of them. Perhaps because of his job, perhaps he was born like that. 

If I am allowed to reflect on the nature of this undertaking, in a one-engined aeroplane, of forty years old, with a self-installed fuel tank on the back seat, I have many thoughts.

Are we injudicious? Are we naïve? I don’t ask these questions. I am these questions. I have been known for years for questioning the ordinary life, for searching. I finally found my place. But David, he is a sober doctor. Perhaps not. You cannot be mistaken if you look into his eyes. I see a boy. And I know, I am not even that important for there is this plane, there is a voyage of childhood dreams.  

There is a dream dreamed for years, it is a mission. How many before him, his countrymen, lead by the inner fire and a vision left everything to embark on a conquest of the unknown. So now he comes, in a straight line with all the explorers, adventurers and brawlers, ready to build his own empire.........