It is hard to know where to start to recount my story of AWAC. The decision to participate was made several years ago. Or at least it was a long-term aspiration. The commitment in terms of cost and time away from work and browney points was always more than I could summon. The simple matter of qualification was the least demanding hurdle. Coming from a nation with only 2 current Advanced pilots has meant that by now, I could have been a many year veteran of AWAC or EWAC. Alas, the last few years has involved 2 house moves and a new business start and a growing young family.

Finally this year, the dominoes have started to line up and I could sneak away more. Any future contenders out there should have no doubt that the commitment is great both in terms of cost for training and preparation and more importantly time. A couple of late spring training camps with former female world aerobatic champion Catherine Maunoury has helped to prepare the 2 man Extra 200 team from Ireland. I competed at 2 regional advanced competitions this year Sleap and Waterford. Not as much as I would have liked because the best competition training is doing more competitions. I have flown the Q nearly a hundred times in practice and never had I left out a figure. However at Sleap I did just that. I completely left out a rolling element. A costly mental error! I understand that this has been a recurring AWAC story in the past. Competition pressure makes pilots think too much. The head gets too clogged and there is no room for the flow of conditioned reflex signals. Things seem to happen too fast and the brain cannot keep up with the speed of events in the air. So people surprisingly forget things in the programme Q or in their Free. I can only hope that it will be 'them' and not me.

My story starts this morning early enough for it to be still dark. Today my plan was to set off for the east towards Poland and AWAC 2006. Having never ventured further than France in my flying career, I had hoped that part of the fun of my 2-week flying holiday would involve the cross-country adventure. But things had unfolded in a rather different way than I had imagined. Firstly, I would have to find Poland by myself. Dave Bruton had already set off for Switzerland with his navigator/team manager Gerry Humphreys 3 days ago to participate in the Swiss championships before heading to AWAC. Additionally, the British contingent has dwindled to just Uncle Cassidy and he wasn't planning to leave till after the weekend. I didn't want to wait as the forecast weather in Ire was looking dire for the weekend. So sticking around till Monday would mean losing a chance to get some practice done at home or at the practice airfield in Poland. The bad weather was to drift over the UK and then eastwards. If I was to wait, I would have to cross it somewhere. Last night the weatherman said that the early morning would be barely OK but a front was on its way by mid morning. So an early start had me in Kilrush airfield as the sun was rising. Or at least the clock said the sun was rising but the heavy cloud barely let any light through. My extra 200 was stuffed with bags and tools and spares and fuel. It was impressive. I was all set for a dawn departure but the crap weather had decided on a dawn arrival. This morning was spent in the clubhouse with my laptop on the wireless internet constantly checking the weather. I knew the picture in detail from the mid Atlantic to Russia. 1,500 hrs of flying has taught me that if you do not like the look of the weather then a cup of tea and another look will usually do little to change your go no-go decision. But 10 cups of tea and 10 looks will always create a slightly less murky sky in the desired direction. By 10 am I had peed away about 8 of those cups of tea and I was arranging my flying office after latching the canopy. Some water and grub rations cleverly stowed, millions of maps tucked into all corners. I was bumbling down the grass runway. My next turning point was supposed to be Holyhead. If truth be known, it turned out to be the 973rd turning point. You see scud running in an extra is much safer when doing gentle turns as the view directly in front under the nose is pretty poor. To avoid the high ground, I also had to go south of the Wicklow mountains. Throttled back to scud run more safely??! It took 30 minutes longer to reach Holyhead than planned but at least by then I was able to climb up to 800ft with the improving weather. Yippee!

I had elected to follow a more northern route as the south coast of England was forecast to have a lot of coastal fog and of course it is best to avoid bad weather! By mid England, I was happily flying at FL45. Flying towards the high pressure in central Europe would mean that the worst of the weather was behind me. It was time for some unfolding and refolding of the first of many maps. As many of you know, this is always an entertaining thing to do in most aerobatic aircraft. Especially if there is no wing dihedral meaning you cannot pick up a wing with rudder. My lovely Extra 200 is a bitch at these times. Let go of the stick and before the first map fold is moved the horizon is way above my head and at an oddly steep angle, ruddering would do little for that worrying horizon position except blow more air into the canopy sliding hatch. I used to fly to competitions looking like a very unskilled aerobatic pilot practicing up and down 45 degree lines with various rolling elements along the way. No longer! I purchased a very effective wing levelling system. 2 bungee chords around the stick and then around each leg. So now I was happy. Snacking in rations and enjoying the view. The controllers were a bit annoying though. A busy Sat in the UK means radar information will call out contacts in various O'Clocks about once a minute. Of the hundred or so 'contacts' that I was informed of, I only saw about 3.

My original plan was to make Lelystad in one hop. 450nm is ambitious but 3hs 20 mins is a breeze in a car so why not? I had over 5 hours of fuel. But 2 hours into the flight and I wouldn't mind a pee. Don't think about it!!! Keep your mind off the waterworks and think of something else. So I navigate harder and talk to more controllers than I really need to. Passing East Midlands and the weather was getting better still, so I can climb to gain a better tailwind. At FL95 over a lot of towering cumulus and I was making 155kts on 21 square. Coasting out and I had to face the North Sea. No, the engine did not start to make funny sounds. The prospect didn't really worry me. The water crossing is about 50 minutes and I regularly fly the 25 minutes Irish Sea crossing. The North Sea has excellent air sea rescue with heli's buzzing out to the oilrigs a mile and a half below and it is a fanciful notion that it would be no problem putting down on one of the many aircraft carriers (Oil Tankers) below. The biggest problem with all of that water was the reminder that my previous distraction of needing a pee was now an all-consuming pain in the groin. Beads of sweat on the forehead are hard to make when the air temperature at FL95 is nearer early winter day figures but I had many. I decided to fight on and stick out the next hour and a half. My original estimate of 3 hrs and 20 mins was no longer accurate. My additional 972 turning points would mean this flight was going to end up taking 3 hrs and 50mins in the air at 21 square. A miserly 35 litres/hr would end up leaving me with a spare 1 hr 25 unused fuel on landing. The Extra 200 with the long range tanks is an impressive tourer..especially with a wing leveller!

Back to the more immediate problem of my bulging bladder. All of that water below! I wasn't going to make it! I could turn back to Norwich and land and be peeing in about a half an hour or I could continue to sweat it out. I really didn't want to wet myself. I hadn't done that since Christmas! There was one other option. My rations included a rather large plastic bottle of water with the large neck and pop up nozzle, which at this stage of the flight was about ½ full. What if?????. Decision made, I was squirting the last of the water out of the canopy hatch. This important practice run taught me that if the nozzle is not far enough out into the airflow, then some of the spray can work its way into the cockpit at the trailing edge of the canopy. However if it is thrust too far out then it tries hard to escape and that would be a bad thing during this crisis. Next, the contortion act. Trying to release little ED is much less painful when wearing a flight suit with an upward opening zip. Luckily that is what I had on. My clever wing levelling system was struggling to keep up. Wriggling and twisting to get all the angles just right had me flying 45 lines with various rolling elements again. Fortunately, I hadn't spent the boredom of the long transit with thoughts of a naked Jessica Alba. The angles would be much tougher! The bungee chords and the trim and the correct leg positions took a while to work out and the anticipation made me tremble. However I can honestly declare that not a drop was spilt and I only did a couple of rolling circles during this delicate operation. I can declare that it was one of the happiest moments of my short 37 years on this planet and that includes the time with the sisters in the Partenavia. (or was that one just a dream??) Anyways, next it was time to rain down on the North Sea oilrig workers. Someone down there may have wondered where the heavy rain was coming from on this now sunny day.

The rest of the transit was a non-event.

Lelystad is a great airfield with several aerobatic types and interesting classics. The temps were in the mid 30's and it didn't take long to develop a thirst when pushing the aircraft around while refuelling. But I wasn't falling for that again! I had ambitions to hop over Germany and land in Poznan to clear Polish customs and then onto the practice airfield all today so more endurance flying would be called for. The late start would mean time was going to be tight. So a quick refuel and a spot of DRY lunch and I was off again. Holland and Germany was as busy as England. The controllers were calling out traffic in all directions. The haze kept all of them well hidden. Some say that when flying in mainland Europe that it is better to just turn down the radio and have a peaceful life but the conversation kept the boredom away. Earth was now very much a flat and boring thing to look at. Lots of identical fields with crop lines running in perfect symmetry but at least in Holland there were a lot of canals and barges to add variety. Germany had even more perfectly symmetrical fields. Very organised looking when compared to the random mosaic pattern of various shades of green where I usually fly. The busy controller switched between English and German depending on the mood. I droned along not seeing any of the contacts that he called out.

After passing Hanover at FL 75, Bremen info passed me onto Berlin info. My planned track would take me north of the capital city. The radio was now dead quiet. No one in east Germany was flying on this sunny Saturday. In fact this was to be the case in Poland as well. The economies between east and west become glaringly obvious even in the air. The airport of entry on the west side of my final destination is Poznan. The flight from Lelystad took 3 hrs exactly and there were no dramas with unintentional rolling circles. Sunset at the contest and practice airfields was 18:20 UTC/ 20:20 local. Surprisingly early at this time of the year when we are used flying till 10pm at home. I would need a super fast turn around if I wanted to do the last 170nm to my goal. Unfortunately nothing happens super fast at Poznan.

Lots of form filling and the first of many games of charades to get across my message across had me ready to depart after about an hour and 20 mins. There was only now 1 hr 10 mins left of daytime VFR so I am now here in a small hotel in a drab part of Poznan typing this for you. They have no internet facilities here so I cannot send this yet but I will keep the diary going and send the updates when I can.

My plan for the morning is to get away at 7:00am to make it to the practice airfield in Radom Piastow before 9:00. I understand that there will be a marked practice box, which we can use for 2 days, and slots go on a first come first serve basis. I haven't had a flight since Waterford 7 days ago and before that flight it was about 4 days before that, so I would love to get more practice time. I am no where near as ready to compete as I'd like to be. I will try to write more tomorrow night. Gotta get up again in 6 hrs. Nighty-night.

Day 2 - Sunday 30th July
I woke this morning to find a text on my phone from my team mate David Bruton that said that yesterday he had just won the Swiss championships. He had been out late celebrating and hoped to make it to the practice airfield in Radom late today or early tomorrow. There were 9 Advanced pilots at advanced and the result is hopefully a reflection that our preparation will prove adequate for participating at international events. Well done to the Dave!

For me, this morning worked out as planned ... just. I was at Poznan looking at the weather at 6.30 am. The problem was the unexpected low cloud and 4km viz that was now forecast to cover western Poland for most of the day. Eastern Poland and our practice airfield was going to be Cavok. Time for a bit more scud running! Airborne at 7:10, I was S turning my way around Poznan town and following the main road out to the east. I am sure that it made many heads look up. 2 GPSs are a great backup when trying to fly in these conditions. My wing levelling system was working well as I would have to fold and unfold 2 maps for this leg. My flight plan which I had filed last night requested FL55 but stuck down at 600ft with a grey roof was not going to make that likely. The controller cleared me to FL55 but I declined so he just tried to clear me to climb twice more. Not having total faith in the Jeppesen maps having all high obstacles marked and not having full faith in the wonderful Garmin 296 with terrain data, I had kept up the S turning routine. The bored controller with only one airplane to talk to seemed to be getting agitated with this. I am sure that his unhappiness was heightened when I disappeared of his radar at too low a level heading east. "Report your altitude!" he requested. "below 1000ft" I said. "Please squawk Mode C and you can climb" he barked. I said that I already had mode C on and that I could not yet climb. And shortly after he left me alone. Or so I thought!

This left me to study the landscape closely. Endless rows or fields of wheat or barley crop. Very flat. Great tank country. Not many houses or villages for miles and miles. No wonder the Germans overran the place so rapidly in 1939.

Low down will always keep my attention focused on searching for electrical pylons. There were none, big or small. How western Poland is powered, I am not sure. Half way through the flight and the thin overcast was showing holes. When they got frequent enough I popped out on top into glorious sunshine and the east was looking good. I started a climb to FL55 and realised that Lodz zone was not far off so I put in a request to the area controller to change frequency. Well the controller just about lost his reason. I hadn't known that he had been bouncing off the walls calling me endlessly for the past half an hour and as he couldn't get me on Radar had feared the worst. I could almost see the white knuckle grip on his mic as he reluctantly allowed me to leave his frequency after trying so hard to get me.

I landed at Radom Piastow at 8:30 and there were some gliders on the ground apparently operating since 8:00 and they would have to finish for the aerobatics at 10:00. I found out that the American team had been there for just over a week and had taken on the job of organising the flying list for use of the practice box. I put my name down and it turned out that I would be first to fly at 10:00 as I was the first on the airfield. Slots were to be strictly 15 min duration. Dave wasn't available to critique but a helpful and friendly Don Peterson of the US team said he'd help out. The flight showed that I had a bit of rust in the reflexes and I didn't fly well. Some how my site gauge was now directing me to fly my verticals 'toward the gear' (ie. positive up and negative down). This unusual nomenclature used by the some of the Americans confused me in mid flight as to which corrections were required. Any delays in the flow of thought in a busy sequence is a bad thing and leads to a snowball effect of errors. I landed dejected but stubborn. Time to get back on that list and do myself justice.

The Americans are a very serious team. They have come with the maximum number of 8 pilots and the one spare pilot will enter as an independent unless someone falls off. They have 4 or 5 other people as managers/ coaches mechanics etc. They closely study everyone who flies to suss out who is a threat. It was clear to me that they were satisfied when I landed that they felt that I was not a threat and so would happily help me out. Today at the practice airfield there was about 20 of the total of 80 or so pilots expected to compete. Others were either using one of the other 3 practice airfields or had not arrived yet. Alan Cassidy had plans to wait till tomorrow as he was working in White Waltham today. At a pace of 4 pilots per hour in the box it would mean I would have to wait till mid afternoon to fly again. I decided to do some practice away from the box. This flight went better and the x-country head was now firmly exchanged for the aerobatic pilots head. I landed a happier man and I grabbed some grub and struck up the first of many light hearted slagging conversations this time with the Ozzie pilot Richard Wiltshire. He had a rented car and has been here for a couple of days. He offered to drop me up to the hotel to deposit the mountain of bags and tools and spares that came out of my airplane but I declined as I didn't want to loose out on practice time. Richard is the sole competitor from Australia and he flies a rented Extra 300 from the Polish team. The aircraft flies well but looking at it makes me believe that the favourite tool for the polish engineers is a hammer. The grass practice field of Radom Piastow has no real runways and you can take off or land in any direction. It does however have a plentiful supply of White Waltham like potholes everywhere. Hard on the undercarriage, especially if you fly an Extra. The polish Extra which is based here had long since had modified undercarriage attachment brackets fitted.

Another rented Extra 300 came from Germany for use by 2 of the Americans and 2 of the South Africans. It is an almost new Extra 300 LP and boy does it go up! The Americans who arrived first, have commandeered the airplane and they seem to be making the father/son South African pair feel like it is an American machine on loan to the South Africans. The airfield organisers have placed a landing arrow in the middle of the field to indicate the most favourable landing direction. Presumably it is also set up to avoid the most significant holes. Patrick, the son of the pair landed beyond this marker after his flight in this unfamiliar airplane and maybe had a bit too much speed for the no wind conditions so stopped his landing roll somewhat beyond the stopping point of the others. The Americans have been muttering concerns that their airplane may not make it through the competition in such young hands. Some palpable tension building there!