It is late afternoon, and I find myself waiting expectantly in front of the furthest hangar at Umm Al Quwain’s Aeroclub. ‘Lazlo won’t be long,’ I’m told. I console myself with a nervous swig from my water bottle and stare up into the dimming sky. Suddenly the air is alive with parachutes. A confetti of shrieking, whooping people-shaped flotsam slowly descends into view and I retreat quickly into the hangar to avoid the increasing likelihood of receiving a parachutist to the head.
Inside, I meet light aircraft enthusiast Nick Forster, a qualified air pilot who has recently completed his microlight training. He has flown all manner of planes, he tells me, in the kind of authoritative tones that you only ever hear in the armed services, but describes microlighting as true ‘seat of your pants flying’. It is then that Lazlo makes his entrance, heralded by a chorus of whirling propellers and a sharp gust of wind.
Shaven-headed, heavyset and full of cheerful Eastern European vim, he points at me and calls me over, thrusting a helmet and safety jacket into my hands. I squeeze into the microlight’s backseat and Lazlo does likewise in the front; it’s a snug fit, but given that there is little but a loose seatbelt to stop you from falling out (there is no sidebar and little to grip to), the snugness is appreciated.
Microlight (or ultralight) training entails more than just the ceremonial donning of flying goggles, however. You begin with fundamental principles: the aerodynamics of flight, air law, navigation, meteorology, essentially the mechanics of flying a weight shift aircraft. Only then do you graduate to sharing the controls, but I am just here as an enthusiastic passenger.
The microlight is a curious contraption to look at. It is basically a motorcycle sidecar suspended on a pivot under a giant wing. Unlike a normal plane, whereby you pull on the yoke and the craft goes upwards, pulling on the bar of the microlight inverts the wing, causing it to do the opposite with alarming swiftness. Your velocity is determined as much by the shape of the wing as by the power of the engine (top speed ranges from 80-120kph), but it really is a brittle looking thing.
And with that the engine sparks into life, I utter a quick prayer unto Lazlo, and we amble slowly down the sandy airstrip before the motor kicks into gear and we arc upwards at an alarming rate. It is a feeling not unlike being borne aloft on a noisy cloud. There is little sensation of being supported by anything. Were it not for the vibrations of the engine shaking my very bones, it would be a truly magical experience.
The biggest surprise is the mist – the moisture visible in the early dusk. It shrouds the horizon in an almost unreal haze. Over the two-way comm Lazlo explains that we’re going to circle the mangroves, passing over a wreck, and then fly in low over the airfield. He signals his intention by veering sharply to the left, and I find myself at a 45-degree angle to the earth, clinging with mortal intent to the framework. The ground has never looked so threatening.
What little I learn of Lazlo – his English is fine, but seemingly deteriorates with altitude – he has been flying microlights for 16 years. He once flew in the Hungarian army; now he runs the Micro Aviation Club, who also provide paragliding and paramotoring classes on the Dubai-Abu Dhabi border at Jebel Ali. But conversation (well, shouting) is tricky, and so I just lean back and take in the view.
All too soon my trip comes to an end and we slowly descend, skimming furiously over the ground before touching down with a gentle bump back at the hangar. The experience is incredible. True, the microlight is a rather primitive creature. It looks rather like something that the Wright Brothers might have knocked up over the weekend, but it is all the more exciting for it. There really is little between you and the sky, and whilst this thought might seem terrifying, it isn’t, it’s simply thrilling. This was definitely a flight to remember.
Microlight training begins in Abu Dhabi on December 1. A course of training sessions costs Dhs12,000 and includes 10 hours assisted flight plus two hours solo, as well as equipment hire, fuel and a license. Call Lazlo on 055 212 0155 or visit www.microaviation.org for location details and more information
