Further posts

Due to ongoing issues with blogger i.e. the software is so un-user friendly I can’t edit my posts properly with the bad software, you will find future posts on

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Ground School

 It's been a while since I’ve posted but for good reason since starting ground school. I’ve run down so many pens I’ve lost count, cut down so many trees for paper and sucked out energy from my iPad faster than my 8 year old mobile phone, and have since lost track of time. What is time? One of the reasons why I quit office work was because I had felt that my brain was dying; it was no longer elastic but a cobweb plagued, rigid and obsolete bit of blob. Oh how that thought was so true when I arrived…. So since being here in the Midlands (Middle(ish) of England) I’ve ….. Struggled to fit in, much unlike a well balanced aircraft.  I did not balance my aerodynamic forces correctly to allow myself for a smoothly transition in my new environment.  Curving myself into a spiral dive I watch myself spin, temporarily, out of control.  Sorry cheap seat passengers at the back (friends and family taking the ride with me), sick bags are in the compartment in front of you... [Slight side track - click here for a comedian’s take on the British use of the term, “ish.” I think it’s hilarious!] Before leaving home to begin my course I did say to my friends and family that getting into CTC was the easiest part. A couple laughed, others were bemused but either way they thought I was joking.  If only I was.  I thought doing 4 years of university was hard. Then I did my Masters degree, ha, Undergraduate is not hard, not even close! Try doing a Masters course which is akin to 4 years rolled into one. I remember feeling achievement when I got my Masters, it was a great sense of satisfaction. So before coming to ground school I thought, neh, it’ll be like doing my Masters. Ha! How wrong was I?! I thought my Masters was hard, it’s nothing compared to ground school. Trying doing 4 years rolled into 6 months and you start to get the idea! Despite (thinking) I was mentally prepared, I got my ass handed to me certainly in the first couple of months. The course is intense for sure but every piece of insecurity I felt from the past as I went through the education system came flooding out, hence the spiralling. I both didn't like nor had a great experience of the education system in the past. Ground school certainly reminds me of exactly why not, again. I find it absolutely humorous in a very unfunny way that we’re told to concentrate on the theory and learn the importance of understanding it. Personally I would certainly agree with that view, but the brutal truth of it is, we don’t have time to actually understand it, only (hopefully) enough time to learn the minimum required to pass the exams.  The pass mark for our exams is 75%, which in comparison to University level is of Master (honours) standards, and yet we aren't give enough time to actually master any of the subjects we learn.  Not for me anyway.  This is also a wonderful example of how I may also analysis things FAR TOO MUCH! The instructors here tell me that all the time! “Stop analysing things, you don’t have time!”  On the bright side of my rambling/analysing nonsense, I can now sit here and say, I did use trigonometry again. Which I’m sure you’ve all questioned this at some point in your high school life, "why are we learning this in Maths, is it necessary?"  Maybe one day I’ll look back at this moment in time and say, “yeah, this is why I was forced to learn all the parts in my ear. It is pertinent to flying after all!”  I look forward to that day. The instructors here are very aware and sensitive to the fact that we students have so much pressure to learn, drinking down information (overload) like a “fire hose”. But at the end of the day they have a job to do and we have exams to pass. It’s just unfortunate that on a course like this, time itself is very much the biggest luxury a student here doesn't have.

Reminiscing on interviews on assessment day

I remember this one, the group and one to one interviews for a couple of reasons. I remember the group interview because on the day of my assessment, the 12 of us struck up a decent rapport seeing that we were 12 strangers stuck in a room together (OK, we moved into three different rooms at different times) for a whole day with the vision of becoming a commercial pilot being the only thing that bound us together.  That helps when you have to sit through a group assessment together!  That and I was reunited with two of them more than a year later when I started ground school.  Another one had already passed ground school and was at the flying stage, while another had enrolled with another school and was also going into the physical flying training stage of this whole process.  It's nice to know that the others are also succeeding. For the one to one interview, I remember after the second one thinking, why didn't I get these questions in the first interview because I would have definitely known how to answer those.  And during the second interview, "are you seriously asking me that?"  If you're curious as to what kind of questions they may ask then just Google, 150 questions pilots are asked in interviews.   It feels like a century ago now since I opened that email to trembling hands.  Now that I have my uniform, and have been wearing it for a few months, I forget just how unqiue this path is, and how much people are not used to seeing "us".  Just the other day I was exiting the flat to my car to get to school.  In my uniform, a lady who had just exited the car and was standing on the pavement waiting for the passenger to get out, just continued to stare at me as I walked towards my car.  I actually had to stop walking and ask her, "are you ok, and do you need any help?"  To stop her from continuing to stare, only she continued to stare. Now I sit and look forward to the day of my exit interview from ground school, because that would mean that I've successfully completed stage 1 (if you like) and would be moving onto the physical flying stages of my training.  Until then I shall hold onto these great experiences so far and look forward to many more!

Preflight (CTC) take off checks (Part 3)

13 January 2017:
Waking up the next morning feeling like I had been sat on by an A380 (Airbus), I hauled myself out of bed.  I had no choice, check out had to be complete by 10am and I had thirty minutes left. I threw my backpack into the luggage storage, made a short hop to the supermarket to grab some easy breakfast before heading back to the hostel where I sat in the common room intending to drink my just purchased hot coffee, eat a croissant (which is rare for me since I do not normally eat those things) and surf the net waiting for lunch time to tick over so I could meet V for lunch.  As I signed onto wifi my phone vibrated, who could that be, it's early?   The next minute was all a blur as I read my email....  I sat there in the large open area on a very uncomfortable long and wooden bench surrounded by more tables, more long wooden benches, other guests, and read the email again.  I then did a weird mix of light stamping and shaking of my feet.  An instant grin usurped my face and I quickly covered my mouth with both hands.  I read it again and took a photo shot of the email.  Sending the photo shot to V.......   I read the email again.  Was I reading this right?  Even as V was congratulating me I sat there dazed.  What?  I put down the phone to process.  Is this happening?  I sent my Dad a confirmation text message that I had made it.  I re-read the email.  Then I sent the photo shot to T and L.  Is this happening?  Suddenly I found what was supposed to be a relaxing two hours wait before meeting V for lunch disappear like a water droplet in the ocean; where did the time go, is this real?  I just desperately wanted sleep...  Or was I really still just sleeping? Although it has now been 48 hours the news still has not quite sunk in yet.  My mind and body is still continuing to recharge, slowly.  When I saw the results email I was so relieved that all I wanted to do was cry and then sleep as I felt the weighted burden disappear, just like that. A burden which I had put on myself, but the hard work and perseverance paid off.  I did it, I managed to walk through the door as CTC held it open for me. Though this is just the start of an extremely hard, though exiting, journey, I am also overwhelmed by the joy which this news has also brought to those around me. It was especially comforting knowing I had all my friends and family standing behind me when I was waiting in the lounge area waiting for my reassessment to begin. So now what?  Well I need to arrange funding, my medical certificate and arrange for life insurance to cover my loss of license before I can begin my course.  So this is what I will be doing in the next few weeks, along with tying up loose ends here in Scotland.  I have since also been contacted further by CTC Aviation's careers team.  Yes they have that department too, another reason why I chose the school, and there are plenty.  You get an assigned person to see you through the transition, which is helpful as they can also point you in the right direction to retrieve the documents they require before I can start the course. Is this real?  

Indigo zulu zulu yankee at departure point (Part 2)

11 January 2017: The day before the assessment I revived a little.  When you spot yourself in the mirror with two huge black rimmed panda eyes you know you're in trouble.  That morning I got up and did my last bout of pilot aptitude practise tests.  I then followed this up with a fifteen minute cycle on the trainer, and I felt it, I was exhausted.  Dad collected me an hour later and I was being chauffeured to the airport to catch my flight down to Southampton, where CTC Aviation's selection team are based.  The flight down was pretty uneventful and we even arrived thirty minutes early.  I had been lucky, I was to miss the British Airways cabin strike, the South West train service strike and the London tube strike. So much for happy new year, huh!? Reaching the correct campus, there are different ones for different purposes,

I informed the lovely receptionist, A, that I was here to check in.  She then informed me that yes she was expecting me, tomorrow.

Then the phone rang and she went to answer it as I checked my confirmation email on my phone.  #$¥{~"#!  I had indeed booked the wrong night.  Finished answering the phone, A asked me if I had a confirmation email.  I then had the unsavory task of informing her and myself what an idiot I am, and the school was fully booked that evening so A could not offer me accommodation at the school.  She did however ring a guest house nearby and assured me it's a lovely place to stay as other students in the past have stayed there.  Luckily Dale Farm Guest House had two rooms left.  I took it, and later was informed by the lady looking after the Guest House that I was lucky as the last remaining room had also been taken by another CTC guest. Before I took a taxi from Southampton airport to the school campus I had wondered if I should wander around the city first as it was still early and the campus is situated in the neighbouring town in a remote area with nothing around it.  Having been there before I knew that once I arrived I would be stuck.  Looking back luckily I decided I would just head over to the campus anyway and try chill in my room for the remainder of the day as one, I may not have found alternative accommodation for the evening due to my error, and two the guest house was actually a large house on a farm so is was surrounded by a lovely large garden, fields with horses and just large open space.  So I was able to walk around a bit to expend any energy and adrenaline I had left which was putting me on edge.  The room itself was homey, with access to dining facilities and a small lounge, though each room had a tv too.  Running to the supermarket to grab some dinner before the last of the daylight faded completely, I came back and settled in for the night.  I was fine in the early evening, so relaxed I was falling to near sleep to the chilled mix I was playing via Youtube while sitting in the rocking chair, which was also in the room. But as night drew longer so did the pace of my beating heart quicken.  By midnight I was still lying in the beautifully soft queen bed listening to my fast and violently beating heart.  I have not heard my heart beat that loud in a long time.  Unable to sleep I got up and made myself a cup of tea.  Well two actually.  Then it hit me, I had even forgotten to brush my teeth before I left home this morning too! Eventually managing to fall asleep in the very early hours.  I was thankful that it was just as well that my reassessment did not start until later and so I didn't need to be at the school until 10.15am, which gave me a little more time to rest.  I was surprisingly OK that morning actually.  Alright, so I did not have the appetite to eat and I was a little nervous, but nothing was overly dramatic. As I got the taxi up the road and entered the school reception area again, I greeted A with a good morning followed by,

"I can see my name badge on the table here...  Well, that's a good start."

After some more pleasantries I showed myself to the large lounge area and waited while my colleagues who are also being assessed that day to finish their first bout of assessment. I would then join them on the second part of it.  I was informed that the day was running late so I ended up waiting for just over an hour before my day finally started. By that point restlessness (boredom) had completely replaced my nerves. I also found out that there are actually only two other people being assessed for the Wings course today; applying for thr same course as me as everyone else there was being assessed for a different course.  Of the eight others being assessed for the other course, six of them were also returners; their second attempt.  As both candidates and CTC staff themselves have confirmed, the reassessment rate for this school is very high.  From personal experience I am not surprised as I was certainly stunned after my first attempt at the standard of testing.  Especially compared to mant flight schools who don't even have an entrance exam. So the three of us were shown into the computing room as we were to sit the PILAPT (pilot aptitude) tests.  As I sat and went through all five tests again, again my heart began to punch out of my chest.  V would later comment that at least it showed I was healthy as otherwise I would have had a heart attack, however my blood pressure is probably very high right now.  Thanks V, this is what friends are for, brutal truth, no holding back there!  Sitting the test the second time around, yes it made it easier in at least I am to know what is expected, but upon completion I was still not sure if I did any better this time around either.  As a candidate we are never told our statistical scores, nor what the selection team are looking for from the results.  Thus none of us are sure where the benchmark is nor what the selection team are looking for.  The only things we are told is whether we passed or failed, followed by constructive feedback. As I left the computing room my hands still continued to shake as my inner earthquake insisted on remaining on tremor mode.  Though I still did not have much of an appetite, with the afternoon interview still to go I needed to eat.

 Standing in front of the coffee machine in the canteen, A, spots me in the canteen and moves over to ask me how it went.  I lifted my trembling hand in reply and she gave me a big hug...  Then asked whether I should still be drinking coffee as the machine continued to beep and pour my drink.

This action by A is one of the major factors of why I chose CTC Aviation.  A's affection is actually the culture nurtured there at the school.  Everyone there is so friendly and they want you to succeed so that they can welcome you into their school.  Of course as the candidate we still had to make that happen ourselves. After lunch I had to wait over an hour again for my interview.  With two interviewees, and because reassessing candidates always go last, I had to wait for my two other colleague candidates to finish.  I am not sure if that was a good or a bad thing but again, because I ended up waiting for so long, any nerves left in me fast dissipated by the time I was called into the room. Like the PILAPT tests, after the interview I was not sure how I did as the questions asked were slightly different from last time, and 90% of the material I had prepared was not used.  Damn it!  Despite that I left the room with a final declaration of, "CTC is where I want to be" and left knowing that whatever the result I did all I could have done, no regrets. I asked A if it was possible to book me a taxi to the train station as I would now head into London to see V before heading home the next day from London.  A informed me that there was an accident on the main road and that there are delays and a diversion in place.  OK, now that the assessment is finished I was not in such a rush, so as I waited for the taxi I also changed out of my formal wear and back into my casuals. The taxi driver walked through the front door thirty minutes later, faster than the minimum forty five minutes wait that every other taxi company had quoted, proclaiming,

"don't worry A, I'll get your girl to the train station in time, don't you worry!" A: "With the last 48 hours Izzy has had, this is nothing"

I burst out laughing, thanked A and got in the taxi, where we ended up covering sexism, racism, prejudism and family in our forty, probably nearer fifty minute road diversion drive to the train station.  The only thing we did not cover was ageism as the friendly and hilarious driver talked about his wife being from Perth (Scottish), one son married to a Jew and the other to a German Arab.  He has Welsh family and questioned why his wife did not continue going further South to the Isle of Wight since she was moving to England anyway.  This was after I commented on whether his wife could have moved any further South in England (as Southampton is literally on the flat bit at the very bottom of the British mainland).  I was so schooled. Sitting on the train to London I fell into deep sleep.  I had not slept well for a week now.  I was awoken by my vibrating phone, text message received.  British Airways (BA) was informing me that my flight home tomorrow had been cancelled, great!  I was not even in London yet. I arrived into London about six thirty in the evening as it was an approximate one and a half hour (South West) train journey from Southampton.  Then I caught the tube to the restaurant to meet V.  So you see, I missed the BA cabin crew strike as the cancellation was due to snow being forecasted, which then restricted the number of flights Heathrow is allowed to take off that day; the South West train strike and the tube strike.  Only to blight myself with booking the wrong day for my overnight stay in Southampton, and of all the domestic flights back to Edinburgh tomorrow, BA had to cancel one flight, mine!  Of course not forgetting the road accident on the main road outside the school campus either!  This was certainly turning out to be a very tumultuous 48 hours indeed. That evening though the food was great and V and I even went for matcha ice cream after, even though my appetite had yet to return and I was exhausted.  V tried her best to kick me out of it but I was depleted of energy.  At least now with a rearranged flight home, which was an hour later than my original one, I could at least see V for lunch as well before heading to the airport tomorrow. We said goodnight and parted ways till the next day as I headed to the youth hostel ten minutes walk along the road. As predicted I was to have an equally restless night.  This time my head pounded as my brain became the overheated car engine that had run out of coolant.  Thoughts of the reassessment just would not stop running through my head....

A long taxi to the runway (Part 1)

"I didn't have a dream..  [But I am now] 1 of only 15% who never dreamed of ever becoming a commercial pilot, but is on course to be one."

Present day, 12 January 2017:

I didn't have a dream....  As a child of expatriate parents, survival was the default mode, and just as well for me as the more they succeeded, the more it increased the opportunity for me to become 1 of only 15% who never dreamed, in all of their life, of ever becoming a commercial pilot, but is on course to be one.  I didn't even know piloting was a thing. Come to think about it, it's strange I never ever once thought about it in all my life, even after getting on so many planes so far in life, and I have been riding those things since the days of that tiny TV screen up on the ceiling of the aisle, and where each kid got a airline goodie bag as standard!  Heck I even remember foot rests until that became a 'luxury' and now reserved for those who pay for anything better than your standard cattle class!  So what happened? As I sit on my flight home from my flight school entrance reassessment writing this, I'm also wondering the same thing.  Over and over again... That and, 'I won't be sitting back here for much longer!'

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In the last remaining days of high school, soon to be off to Uni, I had two very different talks from each of my parents. To me it wasn't really a big deal that I was going off, after all they had already sent me to boarding school for a couple of years, what is a little more added distance of University? But to them it signalled an ending to another chapter of their life, while for me it was only the beginning.

Talk 1:

Mum: “Why bother going to Uni, just settle down and get married.”

Me: ….. ….. …..

OK, so this one was more of a rambling spoken outloud (unappreciatively) thought from my Mum than a talk, but oh the damage it could have done. On hindsight my Mum did not say this to me because she was trying to anchor me down to the home, she was saying this because that is the life she chose, which many in her generation felt they had to choose mostly out of societal pressure.  Back then a woman's place literally was in the domestic kitchen. But that was never going to be me. Lucky for me as a millennial my world's options were to become limitless.

Talk 2:

Dad: “Daughter, our family have never been great.”

Me: ….. ….. …..

Dad: “We have never been generals, Emperors, great writers nor even a world renown philosopher....”

Me: ….. ….. …..

Dad: “Look at the Wongs, Chu, Cheung. Our family name isn't even one of the big 4”

(The big 4 Chinese surnames are Lee (Li), Wong (Huang), Cheung (Zhang) and Lau (Liu) as they are the most common Chinese surnames.)

Me: ….. ….. …..

Dad: “I'm too old now to do anything about it, it's now up to you”

Me: ….. ….. ….. !!!?

Did I mention that this conversation took place in the early hours of a Saturday morning after my usual school hockey match?  Heck, I just wanted to go home for a shower, not talk world domination. I'm Chinese, no where in Chinese history have China ever gone off and colonised another country. Civil wars sure, many in fact! Colonising the world, ha! Ancient Chinese thought they were the centre of the world.... Hm, in hindsight, is this why 'seeing the world' and stomping off well trodden paths are not done, because we were already the centre of the universe and so it was pointless to think there's anything but there? Anyway I digress.

I think by now you can guess which route I took in life.

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My aviation story, really, started back when I graduated from Uni and cluelessly went backpacking. In that lull period between the last exam and graduation day, my Dad asked on behalf of him and Mum, “what are you going to do now?” All my life up to that point I was dictated upon what I should and should not do by them. Now I find myself with this sudden freedom to do anything, except, I had absolutely no idea what to do. Like a true millennial I went to search for the answer...  On the internet.  It was fate that would have me  land on a webpage informing me of the wonders of volunteering abroad. From there I then thought, where do I want to go?  Thus my gap year, which turned into several years starting with a volunteering project followed by an added backpacking road trip through South Africa and a few of it's neighbouring countries after the volunteering project. I found myself going through a sample menu of the world and did not realise that I was slowly becoming addicted to it as my appetite for more just grew. Freedom and adventure tasted too good.

Eventually I did come home though and I struggled with reverse culture shock as I tried to integrate back into normal life. Like many I also struggled for several more years to find my footing as I tried different jobs in different industries, and got 'stuck in' with different events, sports and activities in my private life. Eventually, after a hard few years, I ended up with a good company surrounded by wonderful colleagues. I even thought I had found my place, but as time grew, my appetite to try more from the a la carte menu returned. It was also around this time I found myself stumbling into flight lessons (to read about my first flight - microlight (trial flight), click here ). I didn't think much about it as a career at the time but as soon as that seed was planted, and then watered by my reoccurring restlessness in life, it grew into a journey I am now on.

After doing my research, and there is so much information,  I went to go visit the flight school of my choice, which happened to be CTC Aviation. From there I was hooked. Who wouldn't be when you have several giant flight simulators towering it's presence over you?!  Going home after the school open day I decided to investigate into this route as a career and started by chatting to old flight instructors and reading a lot of other newly qualified pilot's blogs, forums (which quite frankly also has a lot of bitter remarks and horror stories) and recommended reading material about aviation. It was over a year later when I finally decided to quit my job and go for it. By that point I had nothing holding me back as I had grown too restless to remain in an office position for much longer.

I applied for the Wings programme with CTC and they got back to me very quickly.  The next thing I knew I was booking an assessment day (entrance exam) with them.  Caught off guard at the speed of which everything was travelling at, I quickly bought a gaming joystick and pilot aptitude software package to practise on to prepare myself for the big day. It was on, and wow was I not ready, which I found out soon enough.

When I got to the school for the assessment I was happy, confident and thought I was prepared. By the end of the full day I was pale and looked more or less like I had been run over by a truck which then reversed and ran back over me just to make sure that I would think twice before returning. It was just like when I started my postgraduate studies, wow was I not mentally prepared for that either. Oh humility, how you smacked me good as I received the rejection/failure result email which triggered a huge walk down the path of contemplation on my part, which then transpired into the most schooled ten months of my life as I learnt and relearnt forgotten lessons. I had three choices now. Wait the mandatory minimum six months before reapplying to the same course. Apply to a different school or give up. The last one was not an option, as if I would give up that easily! So with much more research and thinking I decided to stick to plan A, so I had to wait......

Six months is not a long time, nor is it a short time when you are waiting and is unemployed. Since this was my decision I needed to find a job quick before I could no longer support myself as my savings started dwindling fast. I finally found an uninspiring temporary office job but it was a means to an end as I stayed there longer than intended. I did not stay longer than six months with that office because of the job itself, but because I was simply not ready to retake my assessment after the mandatory six months waiting period was over. Mentally I had lost focus, badly as I found myself stuck in demotivated mud. As a student of lifelong learning, of course I then turned to life lessons to guide and teach me through this latest challenge.  (That is TED videos by the way.  Subscrive to their Youtube channel, they're great!)  In the end it took me a few more months to get my head back in the game as I hit the books and pilot aptitude tests again. This time I was a house on fire.  That and I wanted to throw the laptop out the window due to practise frustrations but yeah, house on fire!

Now I know I am not a particularly patient person.  But as I knuckled down and made myself practise and practise again those pilot aptitude tests, I very quickly found out just how much I underestimated my own level of impatience. Again I found myself with two choices. Keep practising or walk away; give up. As always, giving up is not a choice so I had to keep going. With that determination I learnt about the art of focusing, and my mind started to change. Changing the way I think, the way I process things and the way I acted.  It eventually rebooted me into a new person, again.

Ten months since my first assessment, I sat my second assessment.  The few days leading up to it was nerve wracking and I was in bad shape.  Lack of sleep, on edge and my brain had reached saturation level as nothing I did would register anymore.  Because of that I had no other choice but to walk away and do something else to relax, which I did, a little.

Post selection day - results

Front entrance to Dibden Manor in the evening

So keeping with the interest of being open, I received my results from the assessment last Mon, the email was sent just before noon.  I was at the time on Lismore Island cycling to a spot where I could receive mobile data.  (Read about my travels at Dizzytravelling, click here.) I had planned a road trip for the week after the assessment purposely to either celebrate, or commiserate.  As I stopped outside a cemetery, sponsored by the lottery as advertised by the shiny plaque near the front entrance, I sit down in front of the information points in time to hear a roar above my head, followed by a black fighter jet zipping above my head in the clear bright blue sky.  It was teasing me.  At this spot I managed to receive a 4G signal, which was a hit and miss on different parts of the Island, as I found out when I would receive messages in odd spots, and I mean there is nothing but farmland but still receiving messages, spots!  At least the cemetery is next to the only main road that runs all 12 miles from north to south of the Island.  And the Island is only 1 mile in width, that's how small it is.

The back garden view to the Manor in the evening

As I read the email, the dreaded feeling that offered me only broken sleep through the entire weekend, even up to yesterday, came to fruition.  Fail, followed by the usual generic feedback.  The weight, exhaustion from not having slept properly since last Tuesday night, and the complete depletion of energy instantly erupted into anger.  I was livid, at myself.  I had already cycled 5-6 miles at that point, half of it over rough hilltops, so I needed  both rest, and to calm down.  As we were all informed at the assessment presentation that we would receive feedback from the day, I read and re-read the email in confusion.  "What kind of feedback is this?  It's completely generic?!"  After chatting with some friends over social media of course, I am a millennial after all, I got moving again.  I'd like to say that that was 30 mins later, but I really didn't know how long it was.  The sun was shining on me, I was in a peaceful place, and I had a bit of time before I needed to cycle back to the small ferry port to get back to the hotel on the other side - Port Appin.  It turned out it would take me a further six hours to calm down, and a further two days to start recharging.

One of the selectees from the group had decided to get everyone's number so that we could all share in each other's results.  I have to say I was skeptical at first, wondering if it would be strange to know if someone passed while you didn't, but it turned out that it was a great idea.  Though I didn't pass myself, it was nice to that others did, especially those who had taken the assessment several times already.  We offered our congratulations, and encouragements.  I wonder if I will meet some of the others in six months time...  

Port Ramsay on Lismore Island

As planned for my road trip, I was to travel to Arisaig on Tues.  I arrived with the sun blaring, and sea kayaking waiting for me.  As we made our way down the coast, we had stopped for a short break in front of Cambusdurroch beach.  It was here I received an attempted call from one in the careers advisor team regarding feedback from my assessment day.  It was both an inconvenient moment, and I had not fully recovered, so I decided not to take the call.  No point in taking or calling them back if I was not fully receptive.  As I sat down onto the beautiful sandy beach staring out across the sea into the Skye's Cullins mountain range in the background staring back at me from a distance, a loud noise is echoed through the sky.  Suddenly like out of nowhere, about 500ft in front of me, and must have been about 300ft in height from the sea, a green jet fighter whizzes across peripheral horizon, turns 90 degrees on it's side flashing the plane's underbelly to me, and a couple more blinks of the eye later, scoots between two mountains and disappears.  I sit continuing to blink, mouth hanging open and questioning whether that just happened.  I don't even have a photo to prove it, it moved too fast.  My guide informs me that of the years he's been there he's never seen a jet fighter fly by before, never mind in such close proximity.  That's two in two days, is this a sign!?

By Thurs afternoon, as I was sitting on the ferry back to Mallaig, that's the end stop of the Harry Potter train by the way, for those who are interested and don't know where the port town is, I decided to give the school a call back.  I was both ready, and I finally had the time, as today was the last of my small island hopping.  I landed, packed my bike back in the back of the car and sat in the driver's seat just staring out into the open sea, only to be stared right back by the Isle of Eigg.  After the generic email, I wasn't quite sure what feedback I would receive.  

Phone box on Lismore Island

First the advisor confirmed that the email is generic, after I shared my concern.   Then I was walked through the positives and negatives, given more detailed tips and then advised on how to prepare for a second attempt, should I wish to proceed.  Though it is said that applicants have only two chances to try to get onto a flight course, and though I had to wait for 6 months to reapply, the school did not invite all applicants back for a second assessment try.  I was further encouraged, or was very 'sales talked to' depending on how you look at it, that the assessors had written that though I am good, I am not quite there yet.  As such, they believe that in six months time, I will be better ready to proceed with the course.  Of course the obvious sales pitch was the advisor telling me that should I reapply, I will "only" pay the slightly reduced cost to sit the assessment.  Yes folks you heard me right, you have to pay to sit the assessment.  I have to say, I wavered earlier this week about CTC Aviation after the results were released, needless to say, after such a positive phone call, my faith was renewed.  Not that I would give up anyway!

As friends started asking me about the results, and offer their commiserations, which don't get me wrong I feel very lucky to be surrounded by such a supportive village of people, do not feel sorry for me, I am fired up and ready to relaunch!  If I fall and give up after my first big hurdle, I certainly don't deserve to be in this industry.  Resilience, handling tasks under pressure, and continual learning is part of the job description, that I have in abundance.  As I reassess my options, and readjust to this first failed attempt, I will in the meantime work on my negatives, first by playing more joystick controlled computer games, especially the 3D spacial tracking ones.  Dang, I never thought I would be slapped in the face by my weakness in playing computer games before, had I known I would have learnt to control Sonic a lot better back on my Game Gear (Sega). 

Looking out from Lismore island onto an unnamed Island, and Mainland UK in the background