Airport Security

IATA claims 2.5 billion people flew commercially in 2009.  Of those 2.5 billion people, how many do you think wanted to blow up the plane they were on or would try to hijack it and fly it into something.  Enough to warrant the major inconvenience each and every one of those 2.5 BILLION people is subjected to at each airport they pass through?  I think not.

On my present schedule, I fly overseas for four tours a year, plus at least one recurrent training trip, and with my present routing I figure there's forty five times a year that I have to stand forever in a long snail pace line, take out my laptop and any liquids, remove my phone and watch, jacket, probally shoes and belt, and subject myself to a search, plus customs and passport control, and as a TRE, you can easily add another four trips per year to that...so we are now up to over eighty security checks per year.  You security dudes can scan the bags and do spot checks, but having every single traveller digging out liquids and laptops (if you are travelling, please pack to have them handy, as I'm probably the guy in line behind you), and now ipads and ereaders, that must be taken out of their cases (Heathrow)....boys, it's getting ridiculous.  Fear mongering manifested into breaking my balls.  And today I flew into the states to learn how to run the AW139 simulator.  U.S. security is so over the top all of us touring guys avoid connecting through like the plague itself.  Relax the rules abit.  Ease up.  Not everybody is trying to kill you.  Leave our laptops and liquids in our bags.

And since when is "Airplane Mode" not enough?  You want my ipad completely powered down?  Reading my ereader during take off is somehow a risk to the plane?  Guys, I'm a pilot.  Sure, we test how the massive electrical pulse from using a defibrillator on an EMS chopper might affect navigation equipment, but ereader and ipads?  Who are the idiots making these policies?

End of rant, time for a beer. 

Milan

With the training behind me, check ride signed and scanned and sent off to the head office, it was time to head home once again.  A long drive to the International airport in Milan on a quiet Sunday morning, the regular check in and security protocols all complete, some good coffee in the business class lounge, then off for the first leg of my long journey home.  At the gate just prior to boarding, the airline announces the flight is cancelled due to a snowstorm in Frankfurt, my next connection, and I get rebooked into a completely different routing, putting me in Munich for the night, but not for twelve hours.  What to do with twelve hours in Milan???

I check into the airport hotel for a day room, drop my bags and change, then head for the train station for the half hour ride into downtown Milan.  It's a drizzly windy day, terrible lighting for photos, but I'm wearing a goretex jacket and hiking shoes, and have nothing better to do.  Thankful for the Italian sim card and data plan I have on my smart phone, I pull up the map and put my feet to work and explore what I can of Milan.

I check out some outrageously priced fashion items, try on some leather jackets that I actually consider buying, eat some $40 pasta dish in a fancy restaurant horribly underdressed, watching all the fashionable people stroll by arm in arm, and just enjoy the day.   I can't believe I thought about spending the day at the airport hotel gym and pool!  When in doubt, get out!  But eventually my feet tire, and I slowly make my way back to the train station, back to the airport hotel, grab a shower, repack, have a relaxing supper, then back through the airport security grind and lines, eventually ending up standing alone in an outdoor parking lot in Munich sometime around midnight, trying to find a ride to my hotel for the night. 

I manage about four hours sleep before I have to go through it all again for the early morning flight to London, then finally on to Halifax and home.  I need to be home for awhile, I can feel it, but I certainly appreciate the experiences I'm chocking up...

Argentina's Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio .....

Argentina's Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio....is the new Pope! I am not religious, I'd probably burst into flames if I walked into a church (actually I did walk into a church in Milan and am no worse for wear), but being in Italy on course with an Argentinian, I was made VERY much aware.    I was drinking wine with my South American friend when the announcement was made, the hotel staff went wild, and knowing my compatriots nationality, they literally dragged him out of his seat in excitement!  I love Italians but they are loud, and I must add, very emotional.  I daresay the Italians proclivity for unloading their full emotions right then and there is why they have some of the lowest National blood pressure levels.  No repressed tension here to eat at one's soul.

Our training sessons started early each day, but finished at a decent hour as well, so we took afternoon trips into the countryside, drives to Arona and around Lake Maggiore, up into the mountains of Switzerland.  It was afternoons and evenings of pizza and pastas and Italian beer and very fine wines, the mornings filled with AW139 helicopters and emergencies and all that I love....

Not a bad gig, this touring International.....

I love helicopters!

After a long day of labouring over the gritty details of the AW139 electrical system and everything that could possibly go amuck, with PowerPoint presentations and computer graphics, what the various failures look like to the man with the big watch behind the controls on a dark and stormy night, how to interpret, analyze, manage what you have left and how to get your aircraft and passengers back to earth safely, then the same again for the hydraulic systems, the engines, the transmission, etc. etc., we then headed over to the technician's training area, with full Pratt and Whitney PT6 engines, cutaway and colour coded so one can see the air flow, the compressor and power turbine stages and bearings and oil lines, transmissions and electronic engine controls, servos and rotor blades, airframes and starter generators, the smell of engine and hydraulic oil....I was giddy.  Damn, I love helicopters.  Tomorrow we are in the sim, and all those theoretical emergencies will be thrown at us non-stop for each two hour sessions, and we'll be sweating but most definitely with smiles on our faces.......

After the day's festivities, we headed to Arona, just up the road from Sesto Calende, and found the Italy I had been looking for.  Too dark for pictures, it was obvious from the cobble stone roads and quaint restaurants and cafes that a return in daylight was well warranted.  And we found some good grub too!

Pizza

I really hate to say this, but Quebec makes a far better pizza than the Italians.  They do a fine job on the crust mind you, but I prefer a pizza with some substance.  I was not expecting a layer of tomato sauce over a thin crust with a chopped up hot dog sprinkled about.  One slice of a pizza from la belle province, with it's half inch of layered thin sliced pepperoni, thick cheese and another half inch of topping is a meal in itself.  I had to get myself a Mars bar after the Italian version.  But the Italians definitely know how to build a helicopter.  I showed up at the training facility this morning, though it sort of felt like my imagination's version of a Hollywood movie set, and our Italian ground school instructor set about enlightening us with the inner workings of the AW139.

Unfortunately there isn't alot to see in Sesto, Calende.  Everything
closes at noon and opens again around 4 pm, give or take, and the restaurants open sometime after 7:30 pm, if they open at all.  Not a busy place.  Our schedule is still being sorted, so we might be able to manage a road trip somewhere, see some of Italy, explore!  

Laphroaig ain't cheap

It was a long day's travelling, cattle class once again, the crowd being predominately teens, seeing as it's Spring Break, and while they were well behaved despite their reputation, a couple of screaming babies made the trip arduously long. After spending a few hours in the long tunnels and shops of the massive Frankfurt airport, I was airborne once again for the short hop to Italy. Finally I plopped down in Milan, an hour long taxi ride later in a fine Mercedes that the driver treated like a Lamborghini, and I was in Sesto Calende.

 

I consider myself an Ardbeg man.  Having the rare opportunity to sample fine single malts in Scotland itself many moons ago, I came to the conclusion that Ardbeg was pretty darn near heaven on earth, until a Scotsman brought some Laphroig to Tanzania.  Pretty dang close I must say, if you like your single malts smokey and peaty.  At nearly $90 a bottle for either, the liquid smoke ain't cheap by any standard, but seriously fatigued after a long days journey, in Sesto Calende, Italy, of all places, I ordered a shot of Laphroig as the bottle was sitting right there staring at me, calling my name.....I asked for a single ounce, and I dare say she gave me near four!  I'm feeling that.

They are calling for rain all week, and I'm training for full eight hour days, but hopefully I can find some time to explore....

What jet lag?

After a pleasant day in Dar at the Sea Cliff Hotel, the eleven hour flight to Zurich was uneventful, but tedious.  A one hour stopover in Nairobi, where Kenyans awaited the results of their elections, was quiet.  Riots following elections four years ago saw well over a thousand killed, but with a renewed constitution, we all hoped it would be quiet after the results this year.   After spending last fall living in Kenya and making some very good friends, plus living through some very violent riots ourselves, I've been watching these elections with interest.  I wish the best for my Kenyan friends.  After Nairobi, immediately after our wheels left the pavement, the lady's seat in front of me was jammed full aft, so the monitor was inches from my nose, the guy beside me who really should have booked himself two seats spilled over the arm rest, and the two guys behind me coughed and hacked nearly as much as the lady with her head in my lap.  Add a crying baby the next seat over and that pretty much completes the picture.  What's eleven hours?  In stark comparison, using my upgrade points and scoring business class from Zurich to Toronto was pure heaven, not least of which was my own personal space, stretched in a fully horizontal bed, good food, quiet, peaceful.  I honestly think with the amount of travel we do, flying business class is the biggest morale booster there is. 

So now I'm home.  A good sleep in my own bed, followed by a nice dinner out and an action packed Bruce Willis movie with my kid.  I replaced the cheap Chinese mouse that had replaced my failed mouse in Mtwara, treated myself to a new Bose speaker for music while abroad, and got my hands on thee lightest carry-on bag there is.  This morning will be packing for Northern Italy as opposed to East Africa, and in a few hours, I'm airborne again....cattle class unfortunately.....

Sea Cliff

Back at the gorgeous Sea Cliff Hotel in Dar es Salaam.  With my early morning flight from Mtwara to Dar, and my late evening flight out to Zurich then on to Canada, I had over ten hours to kill.  This is the place to do it.  The flight up was uneventful, apart from a large group of local school kids lined up along the ramp for a class trip to the airport, posing for photos and waving at those bound for the clouds.  The hour and a half drive to the hotel due to heavy traffic was painful, but the aggressiveness of our driver made it rather entertaining.  Dark skies threaten to open the heavens, thwarting my attempts to deepen my tan prior to heading back to wintry Canada.  Still, it's a pleasant layover.  While I love Mtwara, after six weeks of, shall we say, "rustic" living, first tour I bypassed this lovely reprieve and went straight to Switzerland.  In the executive lounge at Zurich's International airport, it was reverse culture shock; everything in bright white plastic and glass and chrome, pristine and orderly.  Sterile.  Overly so in fact.  This is a more pleasant transition.

I had done more flying this tour than any the previous year in Africa, so that in itself has made it a great tour, but I also went through some very good training to gain TRE status, and I feel that I am a better pilot because of it.  Top the tour off with time well spent with good friends, certainly not missing the tight chest and need to "decompress" after a tour of managing the operation, and this touring life can be downright pleasant.

As the Masai security guard, in traditional robe with staff on hand, originally crafted to keep lions and other predators at bay while herding their cattle and goats, opens the door for me, and I walk through the opulent hotel in flip flops, plopping myself down on a poolside lounger, palm trees and the Indian Ocean for the view, ultra modern yachts zipping amongst the numerous supply tankers, I can't help but feel a little like...dare I say it....James Bond.....

Bitch in the ditch

Cashed in my remaining Aeroplan upgrade points for 2012 and shenaggled a confirmed business class seat from Zurich to Toronto!  Nearly ten hours of flying, after a twelve hour flight from Dar to Zurich, will be far more pleasant in one of Air Canada's futuristic pods, which stretches out into a full length horizontal bed, and the menu blows what's offered in cattle class out of the water, and free drinks....whatever you heart desires....makes air travel...quite tolerable.  Everyone wishes the company would fly us around business class, like the oil workers we will eventually fly out to the rigs, but for the time being, we have to bid whatever points we've accumulated against everyone else in the same boat and hope for the best.  I find I actually get upgraded about 15% of the times I apply. 

Finally drove in East Africa!  Took my shiny new Tanzanian Driver's Licence for a spin to the Old Boma.  Humping over extremely rough roads jammed into the back of a Toyota Land Cruiser with four other pilots and a couple of SARTechs is one thing, hanging on tight to the numerous hand-holds throughout the cabin as one is jostled about violently, but being behind the wheel is quite another.  Besides the numerous pedestrians and overladen bicycles and slow moving Bajajis, and cheap Chinese motorbikes with drivers sporting colourful construction worker's helmets, often with Mom, baby and another child precariously hanging on, the numerous gaping potholes and omnipresent speedbumps, Tanzania also drives on the left, with the steering wheel on the right, like in the United Kingdom, Japan, Australia, Hong Kong, Pakistan....  I've had the pleasure of driving all over North America, France, Norway, Turkey, Romania....but I've never driven on the left before.  One of the other pilots told me it was easy, just remember "bitch in the ditch"....took me a few moments to figure that one out.....but I must say, it wasn't as difficult as I thought it might be.

Last Sunday at the Old Boma today.  Two check rides tomorrow, flying the line Tuesday then I'm away.....

(.....keep the passenger on the ditch side of the road.  Works everywhere, left or right drive)

Deep Sleep

As the first light of day crept into my room, faintly recognizing my tiny watch alarm beeping in another dimension, it's as if I dove too deep and I struggle to get to the surface with what air I have left.  I slowly force myself out of a very deep slumber and give my head a good shake.  I wasn't supposed to be on the flying roster today but someone had asked me last night to cover.  I'll never turn down a chance to fly!  The rains had brought cooler weather, but the heat is upon us in full force again, and everyone stays inside as much as possible.  Obviously I'll be heading out under the sun for the flight.  While the passengers always ask why the air conditioner option wasn't installed on helicopters operating in East Africa, the fact is, we are asking the same question.  It's already uncomfortable in my room, as it's air con struggles to keep up and fails miserably.  Only a few days left.

My travel home is a long one.  First there is the morning flight out of Mtwara, with three of us leaving together, then a twelve hour layover in Dar es Salaam.  Luckily we can book ourselves into the very fine Sea Cliff Hotel, and drink fine cappuccinos and lounge by the pool for the day.  It's a treat!  Then almost ten hours to Zurich, over ten to Toronto, and another three back to Halifax, and add a few hours at each stop, security checks and passport controls....it does not get easier the more you do it.  Two days at home then off to Northern Italy for a week!  At least I'll be able to pack some more appropriate clothing!

TRE

My mistake.  I've ticked all the boxes to be classified as a TRE, or Type Rating Examiner, on the AW139!  And here I thought I was still a TRI.  Got the official letter to prove it!  I still need to be monitored giving a check ride by Transport Canada to have their approval to give check rides in their stead, but I can now add TRE to my title!  Have to have some new business cards made up....

Finally received my Driving Licence for the United Republic of Tanzania!  An International Driver's Licence, available for a small fee from any CAA office, typically suffices anywhere and everywhere, but the local police wanted us to have "their" licence, so we elected to go through the process.  Quite a nice looking licence, with all kinds of silvery holographic security imaging, and it should be considering the trouble and lines we went through.  Every step was in a different building with a different long queue, where invariably the person we were there to see had "just stepped out", so we sat under a tree trying to avoid the heat of the sun with the locals, before eventually giving up and trying again the next time we weren't flying....some guys have been after it for their entire six weeks.

So I've already got one company check ride under my belt, given to a very experienced Captain who was due.  Good fun!  I've given many company rides on the Super Pumas, but I have to admit, the recent check pilot training has been top notch, and I really feel I'm better prepared to instruct and check.  I've got one more to do next week, before I head home.  Running emergencies is significantly more exciting than moving workers back and forth from oil and gas platforms, but any flying is better than being bound to terra firma.  My yearly Transport Canada check ride is due this month as well, and concurrently, my yearly training.  The dates and locales have been changing almost daily as the training department struggles with demand and sim availability.  I was originally looking at a trip to the manufacturer's simulator in Northern Italy, but that changed to New Jersey, then to Vancouver, but the latest is I'll be sipping lattes in view of the Dolomite mountains.  Unfortunately they want me to go immediately after finishing my tour in East Africa.  Packing for Northern Italy was not on my mind when I packed for East Africa.  It's plus 38 Celsius today, and Sesto, Italy is presently -4.  I don't even have a sweater with me.

The ink is still wet on this new driver's licence, but I think a drive around the block is in order.....