Flying Adventure
CYMRU CULTURE Martin Ferid takes a sojourn in Haverfordwest, Pembrokeshire, to check out what is on offer in Wales…
H
opefully, the aircraft were all still usable, everyone managed to get airborne, and those first few flights weren’t as traumatic as they could have been. The skies should be a little safer now than a few weeks ago, as pilots gradually get back into the swing of things. After not having flown for so long and due to the backlog, most instructors have been rushed off their feet, inundated with currency checks and instructional flights. Personally speaking, I must have flown from half the airfields in the South East and done enough circuits to get dizzy – no complaints though, it’s better to be doing lumps and bumps with rusty pilots with seemingly suicidal tendencies than not flying at all. Last month’s highlight for me was the Vintage Fly-in at Compton Abbas, one of the few events that hadn’t been cancelled. Understandably, many were put off by the forecast and, generally speaking, the thought of showerdodging for three hours would not hold a great appeal, but under the circumstances, it proved to be a good day out. As an event, it was low key, but as a chance for a bit of normality, it was a great start. Covid precautions were in place, food was served outside, but unfortunately the public were not allowed airside. However, it was an indication of things to come, the start of a return to life as we knew it.
20 | LIGHT AVIATION | June 2021
Above Pembrokeshire has a magnificent coast with secluded beaches and the 186-mile Coastal Path for the more adventurous.
In last month’s magazine excursion, we travelled to the eastern coast of Britain and the last stop before the North Sea and Holland, Beccles. In an attempt to maintain a Parnassian balance, it seems reasonable to head for the western coast in this issue, and one of the last bastions before the Emerald Isle, Haverfordwest. Generally speaking, Haverfordwest, or Hwlffordd in Welsh, has been a stepping-off point en route to and from Ireland. My partner Sian’s name is Welsh, the equivalent of Jane in English, Siobhán in Irish and Sheena in Scottish, so she feels a connection with the friendly nature of the people and the country in general. My first landing at EGFE was at a time when things were new and full of wonderment. To describe things as exciting, thrilling and downright scary all at once is an understatement and doesn’t do justice to the mix of high-octane emotions. Articles such as these would fire the soul and stir the spirit but the reality appeared, to a neophyte like me, that they were the preserve of real aviators, an elite group to which access was ostensibly denied. Apart from a few club trips that served as a great introduction, this was the first real foray as a ‘big boy’ with a group of experienced pilots. With no instructor or mentor to hold your hand, anxiety levels were high, although the guys surrounding me displayed an enviable equanimity. In seeking advice from the most seasoned aviator within the
