Walking in air

Then it happens. Dave opens the throttle and I’m whooping with abandon. I can’t help it. And then we’re up, and I whoop louder. Yell and wheeze and holler and splutter, my euphoria battling the onrushing wind. We spend 10 minutes or so in the air (though it feels longer), Dave tossing me like a plaything over fields of golden rapeseed and rippling green…

The things you do to earn a buck. When an editor asked if I’d like to give wing walking a try, I felt I couldn’t really say no. I sort-of wanted to (you want me to stand ON TOP of a FLYING plane??!). But these opportunities are rare so I said yes and then tried to forget all about it until the moment I was strapped to a beautiful Boeing Stearman, propellor picking up speed just below my feet.

It was, in short, an amazing experience. And one that I was delighted to write about both for Boundless (the magazine of the Civil Service Motoring Association) and for the Telegraph. The only problem is, how do you follow that?

Image by Oliver Edwards