The Air Squadron

AIR SQUADRON TRIP TO AQABA AND THE EASTERN MEDITERRANEAN

REPORT OF TRIP MANAGER JOHN STEEL

The trip should have been to Oman, not Jordan. All was planned and had been worked up over many months, everything bar the visas for Saudi were sorted and we were almost set to go. However, in the month before we were due to take off on Friday 25th March 2011, insurrections, revolutions and anti-government demonstrations took place without any warning or prediction whatsoever, akin to falling dominoes, along the whole of the Mediterranean coast of North Africa, in Bahrain and in other parts of the Middle East. On one day in the last week of February 2011, the price of avgas spiked by 20%. Its continued availability in Saudi, to make the crossing of the desert to Thumamah OETH near Riyadh, then onwards to Sharjah, and especially back across three weeks later, could not be guaranteed. Seriously large payments for hotels in Oman were due to be made, airline tickets had to be confirmed for some and a decision had to be made as to whether and in what form the trip to Oman or an alternative could go ahead.

It was not too difficult in the circumstances for Mike Graydon and John Steel to decide to recommend to the group to postpone to another year the Jordan to Oman leg of the trip via Saudi and Sharjah, with the destination curtailed to go as far as that of Aqaba in Jordan. Instead of the three week trip to Oman originally planned, the hastily reorganised trip was to take place to Aqaba over a 9-10 day period including two weekends.

The Hersovs from South Africa and the Foyles based in Monaco, ever intrepid members of the Squadron, travelled by commercial airline and continued with their bookings in Oman. They must have been rewarded with a magnificent holiday in that superb country, which is currently seeing a great pace of change.

With hindsight, it was clearly the right decision for the aviator group to head for Jordan and curtail the trans-Saudi leg. Highly flexible planning of the trip was called for, with the Jordan leg being dependent on the development of the unpredictable security situation in particular, and the rest of the trip dependent on winds, weather and availability of avgas. New hotels were booked and others unbooked, handling was cancelled throughout as it was found not to be needed, and we decided that we would demand minimum handling on arrival. This was a good decision. We found that throughout Greece, Olympic Handling would charge only €16 for handling for a "technical stop" for a fuel uplift, as opposed to others with a dorsal fin charging between €150 and €237 per aircraft, often only for waiving a clip board at us and ordering a taxi. In the end there were few dropouts and some extras as the shorter time period made the trip feasible for them. Seven aircraft made it to the start line and seven returned, with all aircraft and occupants joining in for the main events in Jordan. The smaller aircraft, i.e. excluding Bruno Schroder's PC12, were to meet for an overnight stop at Salerno alternatively Sitia, then fly on overhead Cairo and the Suez Canal to Aqaba. The return from Aqaba was to be via Cyprus to Sicily. We were to review matters once at Aqaba. Rhodes became a destination instead of Cyprus which had to be dropped as a destination due to the difficulties of having to fly into Akrotiri via immigration at Paphos, with its exorbitant handling costs and excessive bureaucracy and the fact that the tarmac at Akrotiri was becoming slightly congested. We in fact ended the trip not at Catania in Sicily but staying at the magnificent and charming ancient Italian port of Amalfi, on the coast south of Naples which takes its name, instead of enduring the hassles of Sicily and which, in any event, had no avgas. To a large extent the trip was planned around the availability of avgas. Both Greece and Italy have shortages and many airports in these countries now are without any. Within the Middle East, its availability is normally dependent on the co-location of a flying academy or an airport used for piston ab initio training by the military. These are, however, often not customs airports, requiring the need for extra costs and normally many hours taken to receive a stamp in a passport unless able to take, or risk, the making of a "technical stop" under ICAO rules en route. the consequences of being wrong can be inconvenient. There is little doubt that avgas will become more scarce over the next few years and even European trips will require longer legs, fewer refuelling locations, and ever increased costs of fuel until a reliable alternative for avgas guzzling piston engines becomes available.

En route to joining up at Sitia on the eastern edge of Crete, the first crop of three aircraft met up for a refuelling stop at Avignon Caumont LFMV. These were the unmistakable red hulled Aztec G-TAPE with Margaret Spittle and Mike Graydon on board, later joined by John Fox at Aqaba, Gil Greenall and Christina Mathieu in the swift and dependable Cessna 182RG N2379C, and John and Charlie Steel in their Cessna 182S Millennium, with all the gadgets and whizzbang dials you could wish for. James Astor, in his enviably fast and economical RV7 G-CFET, flew in to meet us at Salerno, arriving direct from skiing in Switzerland. The Chairman, Tim Clark, with Sue Greenall and Charles Fowle on board, in Tim's beautiful Beech Baron BE58 N7223Y, joined us at Sitia. Roddy Blois and the legendary Celeste were already waiting for us at Sitia, having marked out the pistes of the place a day early, with the names of every barman to hand. They flew their C172 G-AWMP at their own pace, not to be hurried and in their own uniquely unchallengeable style. Bruno Schroder and Suzanne von Maltzahn, in their elegant Pilatus PC12, flew out via Dubrovnik and Iraklion to join us at Aqaba, after a maintenance stop in Switzerland to fix the pressurisation system. Their passengers, Liz Graydon, Henry Steel (brother of Charlie) and Josh Rhodes also joined us in Aqaba, arriving without baggage, which the commercial airlines inconveniently lost on the way. Their cases caught up with them eventually, but the delay gave Henry an excuse to purchase on insurance a ghastly ill-fitting shiny suit when in downtown Petra, with Josh encouraging and supporting him as what some may term a loyal friend. Liz Graydon was as elegant as ever in some of Mike's striped shirts, which were such a success that they seem to have swopped wardrobe shelves permanently.

Avignon Caumont is in an ideal location for a stop en route from UK to Italy and points south, with its ease of access outside controlled airspace, normally with good weather, with ILS approaches, a near empty apron for much of the year, relaxed customs procedures, efficient refuellers and reasonably priced avgas and landing fees. During the summer season, a small cafe is found in the terminal building, for passengers including those on FlyBe to and from the UK. We then chose the STP beacon at St Tropez as our next waypoint, crossing at FL850 high above the bronzing bodies tanning on the beaches below, before crossing the Mediterranean via the AJO Ajaccio Beacon at the south-western edge of Corsica. This was also to avoid the oft congested and totally unregulated 1000ft N-S low level VFR route to the west of Rome, where aircraft pass at the same height with a closing speed of over 250 kts in opposing directions, as if playing chicken. From the AJO beacon one heads to Ponzi Island PNZ then Sorento SOR, at the point opposite the island of Capri, en route to Salerno airport, LIRI, located some 40nm south of Naples. In total this was a 510 nm leg and, because of the multiple changes in level at both ends, some 4.5hrs from Avignon.

Salerno is one of those airports which is slightly surreal, but so typical of the area. Within the nearly-but-not-quite-finished concrete, glass and steel modular terminal, there was not a passenger in sight. A full complement of uniformed and wide-brim-hatted customs officials, immigration officials, aircraft refuellers, bus drivers, security guards and administration personnel, were seated on white plastic chairs, chatting over doppio espressi wholly oblivious of our presence, looking for something to do between the two commercial commercial of the day. They were complimented by others who seemed to be in charge of events and answering telephones but who were bizarrely and conspicuously out of uniform, adorned with violently patterned flowery shirts, slightly flared and faded blue jeans, with Elvis winkle picker shoes and the statutory pair of Aviator dark glasses, even after sunset. The latters' principal role seemed to be to sit on office desks and wave their hands in disagreement with the officials in uniform, thereby demonstrating superiority of status and position.

Salerno, sheltered next to the coast immediately to the south of Vesuvius, is also an excellent location for refuelling. It has a long runway with a VOR/DME approach over the sea, and is a quiet jumping off point for the charming Amalfi Coast. However, a warning. Do not accept handling as it is grossly over-priced, comes from Naples and is not required (there is a boring long tale about this in our case). Also check opening times, as it normally closes at SS+30 and varies between seasons and NOTAMs at short notice.

We stayed the night at the Hotel Olympico at Salerno. Although with (empty) swimming pool in the car park, (empty) bar in the foyer and (closed) restaurant at the back, it was reputed to be one of the best in Salerno. That probably sums up Salerno. In truth, it would never be found even on the foothills of the list of Leading Hotels of the coast, let alone of the World. One was pushed to find imagination sufficient to call it in the least charming, albeit that it was clean, reasonably priced and tidy, as well as being 10 minutes from the airport. We eat a fish dinner over the road at the restaurant opposite and left early the next day, in taxis whose meters seem to be linked to a fruit machine. Salerno airport opened at 0800hrs and as we were all refuelled the evening before, departure was fairly swift. As we were in Italy, this is a relative term.

From Salerno, due to favourable westerly tail winds, a direct 660nm crossing of the Mediterranean to Crete seemed a real optithe even with more than sufficient reserve, avoiding a refuel stop at Kerkira on Corfu, reputed to be bureaucratic, time wasting and expensive. The risk of a divert to one of the few Greek airports to the north with avgas was still a possibility, so the eating up of the miles over water from Crotone on the heal of Italy was a constant watch. First the 169nm to the island of Kefallinia in Greece with its military airport and heightened NATO activity, over the Peloponnese and the high mountains at Tripolis poking through the drifting ominous looking clouds, then on across the Sea of Crete for 210nm to the warmer air of Sitia.

Sitia airport LGST is not exactly the busiest airport in Europe. Busy is not an adjective ever approaching an accurate description of its activity in late March. It seems to be open only on days when the Olympic flight from Athens is due. It shuts at 1700L at the latest and is closed all day on Thursdays and sometimes on Tuesdays. However, rarely for an airport in Greece, it normally has avgas, albeit shipped in via Iraklion in barrels. Situated on the east coast of Crete, with a 6800ft / 2074m runway 05-23 perched on the edge of a 375ft cliff, it is large enough for fully loaded 737s. This is just as well as Sitia's economic existence depends upon a steady throughput in high summer of youthful exuberance in the form of 17-23 mass tourism.

Not unusually for the Mediterranean countries, we were discovering, the new airport is only half built and is yet to be fully functioning. However, it is almost in the modern world. It boasts both a vertical and a horizontal screening machine together with a horizontal, moustachioed but slightly surly operator. Beside the embarkation area, a room large enough to hold no more than 20 people at a squash, a sort of a cafe is advertised as having an off-licence selling local hooch, ouzo and bottles of ubiquitous Metaxa brandy. The cafe/off-licence is combined with a souvenir shop, more aptly described as a trinkets counter, where a run on effigies of an Archbishop Makarios lookalike is obviously expected. Upstairs, an efficient ATC operator called Dimitri combines a role of charging the official rate of under €2 for landing, handling and overnight parking with his normal ATC duties. How this is meant to be economically viable is anyone's guess. But we are in Greece, of course, where economics is often regarded as a quaint pastime for the uninitiated.

After refuelling with avgas from 205 litre barrels, sold at a princely premium and where Amex is said to be accepted (another boring story), we headed off on foot down the steep hill lined with near vertical parallel streets into downtown Sitia. Before arriving at the port and the rather unimposing Itanos Hotel (Sitia's "most modern hotel with every convenience"), we walked past a pack of lazy dogs, a hunched group of Orthodox Greek ladies dressed in black, and a collection of air-pellet splattered No Entry signs, which every bona fide Sitia taxi driver worth his gear lever religiously ignored. There was nothing else to excite one's senses until the tavernas opened and the music played. Once it started it never stopped. It was just as well that we had not booked for the whole weekend.

The airport at Sitia has been formed by literally bulldozing a flat area from the undulating rocky plateau above the charming off-season fishing village. On-season, Sitia is a humming clubbing hot-spot able to challenge Ibiza for excess and late night revelry. We flew in at very low season indeed. There were at 4pm when we arrived more taxis than private cars, more cats than people, and not a tourist to be seen. The ferry for Piraeus had just left and other than a regional turboprop which arrived after us to disgorge a handful of locals, whose mass might have collectively required a recalculating of the W&B, the next major tourist flight was not due for at least a couple of days. Sitia airport and in particular Sitia is a great place for a stopover, if you can get there on a day it is open, before 1700hrs and if you check first that it has avgas.

Departure from Sitia was simple, following the filing of GARs and flight plans in the control tower with Dimitri The Thin Controller. He wished us well as we climbed southwards to the SIT beacon located at 3500ft above the airport, 7nm to the south. The next waypoint over land would be in Egypt.

As we had encountered no problems with any ATC or airport authorities at any stage of our two day journey from the UK, we were in relaxed mood when we entered Egyptian airspace. This was a short lived phenomenon. We were about to encounter Egyptian ATC in the form of Cairo Sector 2 and its rival, Cairo ATZ. It was a fine day with superb visibility. This helped only for the tourism bit of the trip. It was irrelevant to our finding our way through Egyptian airspace.

Now Cairo is fairly hectic airspace at the best of times. Midday on Sunday 27th March 2011 was no exception. Imagine the scene. RT exchanges were frequent. Many airliners overfly the CVO VOR en route to and from all parts of the globe. Controllers of ATC Cairo cannot have been helped by the fact that a war was going on next door in Libya, that NATO aircraft were expected any minute to overfly to destinations unknown and that their own government had just been overthrown by a people's revolution.

"N7223Y. Cairo. Fly direct BOPED." The reply, in chairmanlike manner and tone: "Roger, BOPED", as if he had the faintest idea where it was. This was followed by frantic map unfolding, searching and discussion on board N7223Y around the question "Where the heck is BOPED?", as it was located 50nm to the south, completely off the Jeppesen Eastern Mediterranean IFR route map, and as the North Africa version was out of print and unavailable.
Later we crossed over the coast at Alexandria en route to CVO overhead Cairo and encountered the wonders of Cairo ATZ. This was a challenge which no RT test could ever predict let alone emulate.
"N2379C. Cairo Control. What is your registration?" The immediate reply was not surprisingly "N2379C", by the never ruffled Gil Greenall, in quizzical but obliging tone consistent with the logic of the question. Gil, accompanied by the chic Ninna Mathieu, felt suitably laid back, having just returned from a sojourn in tents with a few friends in the form of 10,000 refugees in the desert, on the Tunisian border with Libya.
This was immediately followed by the demand from Cairo "G-CFET give callsign, I repeat, what is your callsign?" After some hesitation as to how to reply to such a difficult and somewhat circular question, we heard the answer "G-CFET?" Silence was the reply from Cairo. This had clearly floored the controller; it again was obviously not what he expected.
He switched aircraft to see if that would solve his problems of identification. "RRZ40, are you military aircraft? Who is your agent with military government in Cairo?" The reply to an increasingly exasperated and high pitched controller, by a sanguine Charlie Steel, was "RRZ40. Negative. We are not military aircraft. We have no agent in Cairo." Silence.
Not to be stopped in the middle of his interrogatory, our friend then picked up courage and tried another tack, convinced no doubt that we were up to no good and were somehow connected to NATO forces. He again switched to another slow moving aircraft on his screen, albeit IFR this time, and asked "G-AWMP. Cairo. Are you formation, I repeat, are you formation with other aircraft?" He clearly had met his match. He did not bargain on Roddy Blois being on the other end. As Roddy and his glamorous crew had been observing the view outside and had been concentrating on recording for posterity on their iPhones the increasingly shrill exchanges with Cairo ATC, Roddy's approach was clearly that nothing beats a good question than another equally obscure one batted back. "What other aircraft?" Long silence.
In the meantime G-TAPE had been given a succession of 10 and 20 degree right commands. Having been mucked about around Alexandria then totally frustrated in its southwards objective when nearing Cairo, it was now heading off towards the Pyramids and Khartoum. "G-TAPE turn right one more time 20 degrees heading three-three-zero confirm?" This was what the rest of us, listening out to the Shrill Controller, had been waiting for. All other ATC commands and requests of all time could be put on one side. The reply was in the imperative tone that only a senior RAF officer can muster on being sent off towards Benghazi when meant to be on holiday not active service. "Look, this is unacceptable. 330 degrees is 180 degrees in the opposite direction of where we wish to go. Request routeing to CVO MENLI then SISIK - immediately", to which the high pitched and highly stressed controller of Cairo ATZ complied forthwith. "OK. Sorry. Heading one-five-zero, Sir. Route direct MENLI SISIK. Frequency change to 127 decimal 7 Cairo Information. Goodbye, Sir." There was no doubt. The Air Squadron had entered Egyptian airspace.

Egypt at the time of our arrival was classed as a war zone by our insurers and therefore any landing or diversion to refuel was best avoided. So we were all anxious to transit without any problems. The confusion caused by ATC was perhaps understandable as a simultaneous flight of five US and UK civilian registered GA aircraft, plus another with a swanky ICAO callsign, is pretty rare over Cairo at the best of times. With nervous officials on duty in post revolution Egypt and with no official chain of command or government, with the NATO no-fly zone over the adjoining country Libya having within days been imposed, with western military aircraft passing en route to support the rebels at Benghazi, this small group of slow moving aircraft en route from Crete to Jordan no doubt caused more than a modicum of intrigue in the tower at Cairo International Airport.

Subsequent to the somewhat eventful transit of Cairo airspace, we were sent off in a south-east direction to pass overhead the Gulf of Suez and the entrance to the Canal, with numerous cargo ships below us awaiting passage or merely laid up as a result of the world recession. We then passed over 110nm of the empty desert of the Sinai Peninsula en route to the Gulf of Aqaba.

Overhead the NWB Nuweibaa beacon, it was a relief to see OJAQ Aqaba on the screen after the 5.7hr stretch from Sitia in Crete via Egypt, albeit that those with TCAS observed four aircraft above, below, behind and in front in close proximity and within 5nm, in what looked like deliberate tight formation. Cairo ATC had their revenge; we had all arrived at the NWB beacon together.

The 650nm leg, first with a crossing at FL110 of the eastern Mediterranean followed by the interesting and sometimes incoherent interdictiction with Cairo ATC from Alexandria, overhead Cairo and en route to Suez, had its reward in the form of the stunning 38nm long final along the Gulf of Aqaba into Aqaba airport. Few arrivals can be with scenery as dramatic and contrasting as that of a decent along and down the narrow channel of the Gulf. Aqaba is the fortified strategically important second city of Jordan, situated at the far end of the eastern isthmus of the Red Sea. The 1200ft sandstone cliffs plungan almost vertically down on both sides from the plateaux above into the azure blue waters of the Gulf, with the empty seemingly flat Sinai Desert and busy Gulf of Suez to its west, the barren deserts and mountains of Saudi Arabia to its east. Egypt, Jordan and Israel all join together at the northern end of the Red Sea, with the three international airports of Taba, Eilat and Aqaba found within a few miles of each other. In order to keep out of Israeli territorial waters and airspace when flying into Aqaba's Runway 01, it is imperative to follow a skewed off-line route to the east via the reporting point METSA positioned over the large mineral port 7.8nm to the south east of the City, before rejoining the ILS centreline to the west on a straight inbound for the co-located AQB VOR/DME.

The arrival of all Squadron aircraft at King Hussein International Airport Aqaba on Sunday 27th March managed to be co-ordinated for a landing between 1330L and 1400L, within 30 minutes of each other, more by luck than judgement with the assistance of Cairo ATC, and with a tidy piece of corner cutting by James Astor at the NWB waypoint. We were met on arrival by the ebullient and charming Royal Jordanian Falcons Aerobatic Display Team's Director, Lt. Colonel Raed Ejailat. He had personally invited us to Jordan on behalf of the RJAF and made us feel very welcome.

After an Arabian dinner on the seafront and night spent at the very comfortable Movenpick Hotel in Aqaba, we departed at 0800hrs by coach for the airport, to watch an air display organised exclusively for us by the Falcons. Their precision flying is world renowned and was of superb quality on the day that we had the privilege to witness their training and aerial acrobatics. Despite a 25-30 knot northerly wind and significant dust, a flawless demonstration was executed in their red single piston engine Extras, including a solo by Maj Nofan Alghrair. There is no doubt that the Red Arrows will face a stiff challenge at this years' UK air shows including that at RIAT in July.

On leaving the airport at Aqaba, we took the Desert Highway to Wadi Rum, where TE Lawrence encamped with the Free Arab Army in 1917 before the assault on Aqaba and where the legendary rock named after his tome, The Seven Pillars of Wisdom, is found. We recrossed the old Hejaz railway laid originally by the Turks and repeatedly blown up by Lawrence and his mates, before taking the Desert Highway then the King's Highway to the ancient city of Petra.

Even for those who have been to Petra before, it never ceases to excite the senses and there is more than enough to discover afresh. Rightly designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site, its famous sandstone Treasury, tombs, temples, squares and concealed entrance canyons, undiscovered for centuries, covers an area of over 60 sq kms. Alongside Machu Picchu and Angkor Wat, the city of Petra is argued to be one of the ancient wonders of the modern world. We visited the city first by candlelight at night, then explored much of the rest at a trot the next morning, some on foot, some on donkey and some on camel, before returning to Aqaba in the early afternoon in time for the reception and dinner at the Royal Jordan Yacht Club.

The Yacht Club is located in a dramatic setting on the waterfront, near to the former Turkish Fort conquered in 1917 during the Arab Revolt, under the command of Emir Prince Faisal I and TE Lawrence. The Yacht Club has reputedly the best food in Aqaba and is reasonably priced. We returned the Falcons' generosity and that of Col Nasir, the director of the airport, by inviting the whole team to the dinner. It proved to be the fitting highlight of the trip.

Wing Commander Ian Marston, the Air Attache based at HME Amman, attended the dinner and he gave us invaluable support at Aqaba. We had hoped that HRH Prince Faisal bin Al Hussein of Jordan would be able to join us too, but this did not prove possible due to commitments in Amman. Presentations were exchanged, warm speeches made, glasses raised in toast of their Majesties King Abdullah of the Ancient Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan and Her Britannic Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. The Chairman was presented with a tablet "for our clubhouse" which he faithfully agreed would be displayed in a prominent location. It was a superb evening and made a great end to the Air Squadron's second successful visit to Jordan.

On the morning of 1st April, after the usual passport controls and filing of flight plans in a different building accessible only by bus, we departed for Rhodes. The departure route southwest from Aqaba to Taba in Egypt required a climb in the opposite direction of not less than 12nm northeast-bound to 6500ft before a right turn 180 deg back to METSA point 7nm south east of Aqaba. The two tricky additions, in particular with a 20kt wind were, first, that the Israeli border was within 5nm to the west of the northerly departure route, understandably a no-go area, and, second, that the rift valley mountains immediately to the east rose from sea level to over 5200ft. Despite some anxious calls by Aqaba ATC to keep east of Israel and remain on track, all made it out and overhead METSA pointwo southwards towards NWB then a right turn to TBA en route to overhead ARH El Arish on the Mediterranian coast of Egypt, and onwards for a total of 540nm across the Eastern Mediterranean, northwest past Cyprus to Rodos Diagoras LGRP.

Two days were spent exploring Rhodes and staying at the Grand Hotel, located on the coast just to the north west of the Old Town. The hotel was comfortable and reasonably priced with an excellent buffet breakfast, but surprisingly rated 4*. The weather was overcast and it was pleasant between light showers, but not particularly warm at 16C. This was such a contrast to Aqaba and Petra, where the temperature rose to over 30C. As it was out of season, there were almost no tourists to be found in the OId Town, which meant that sightseeing of Crusader castles and museums was almost bearable. The C14 Palace of the Grand Master of the Knights of Rhodes is in places original but was largely reconstructed by the Italians in 1912 as a rather overblown holiday residence for Victor Emmanuel III of Italy and later Benito Mussolini. Nevertheless, it was highly impressive. The charm of the Old Town, with its narrow streets, squares, small cafes and shops, tavernas with balconies, fish restaurants with priceless menus (yet another story), is to be contrasted with that of one of the handlers at the airport. Suffice it to say that the rather demanding Bronx-accented red-haired female agent received short shrift and we eventually were able to negotiate after much telephoning, arm waving and face pulling, that each aircraft would each pay a nominal €13 plus 16% tax to Olympic for a "technical stop" handling. The Olympic handlers were by contrast undemanding, charming and could not have been more helpful.

The taxis in Rhodes were yet another amusement not to be missed. They turned up in droves and in an of excess of numbers on each occasion, each demanding an excessive fare. We fought them off like one swats midges and were expert at doing so by our departure. When the taxi meters went round like tombolas we were able to defeat them, as a fare had been negotiated beforehand for each cab. We were becoming wiser and more cynical by the day.

Discussions were held over yet another dinner in a fish restaurant, washed down with a glass or two of passable plonked, and in consequence the majority decided to head back to Salerno to stay on the Amalfi Coast at Amalfi itself. Roddy and Celeste Blois headed for Kerkira on Corfu and as a result enjoyed a more leisurely trip back to the UK. The only question the rest of us had to decide upon was the route, whether direct if a tail wind materialised, or if not via Kerkira on Corfu, where a refuel with avgas was possible but delay inevitable.

It transpired that the route back to Salerno in Italy was the longest leg of the trip. One of no less than 710nm, passing overhead the island Milos then retracing our steps to Crotone via the TRL Tripolis beacon at nearly 8000ft high on the Peloponnese. It was here that on the way to Sitia we saw areas of snow. On the way back over the mountains if southern Greece we hit hail and ran into towering thunder clouds, CBs which tossed us around over the mountains for over 20 minutes. It was a relief to be over the sea and calmer weather. Except when icing forced us down to MSA height in the thunderstorms, for much of the way to Italy we had tailwinds and were able to keep high at FL110. With the use of oxygen, we could remain here and lean back to extend range by some 10%. Without oxygen, it is surprising how quickly a headache materialises at this height, given that it is the same height as many ski resorts. For extended periods, FL085 is about the limit. For those interested in figures, this, together with the fitting of Gamijectors, increased the range of a C182S with a 230hp IO-540 Lycoming engine to over 850nm from its normal 750nm max range with a 45 mins reserve, with full tanks to the brim of 92usg, and using 9.8 usg/hr in the cruise.

In Amalfi, about 1 hour's dramatic coach drive along the winding coast road from Salerno, we stayed at the 4* Hotel Marina Riviera and had dinner at the family owned and run 5 star Hotel Santa Caterina, which turned out to be a superb combination. The historic town of Amalfi with its beautiful cathedral was buzzing but not overcrowded. We managed to stock up with Limoncello and walk around the town before being collected by the Santa Caterina hotel minibus for dinner up the hill in the restaurant overlooking the lights of Salerno and the promontories of the Amalfi coastline. The Hotel Marina Riviera was charming, indeed very comfortable, the restaurant at the Santa Caterina excellent. It was a great end to a perfect holiday.

The next day, Saturday 2nd April, brought sunny weather and after the 1hr coach drive from Amalfi to Salerno airport, departure back to Avignon then across the Channel to the UK. In 9 days we had flown some 40-45 hours, depending on aircraft type, had taken three days off and had covered over 4500 nm. This translates as an average of some 7 hrs and 750nm per day on flying days. It was by all accounts a successful and enjoyable trip and, in the end, good value.

John Steel
Easter 2011