I arrive at the DSM Airport to Fly for an East African Gathering taking Place at the Spice (not Chilies) of Zanzibar. A Uniformed lady approaches me and asks me whether I would like to leave on an earlier flight. I readily agree. The Plane was on the runway...a 15 seater. The Air Hostess takes me to the Co Pilots seat. I have been in the cockpit of a 737, courtesy of a former student. ...all the way from Harare to DSM ...I loved the the way the radar screen warning the pilot about turbulence etc flying over the Rufiji River was an additional asset I looked back, there was a Scandinavian blond and her pre-teenage son. ...Capitan Mapunda arrived and took the pilots seat. ...went through the routine and my half steering moved. He then noticed that I had not buckled up. These are not normal ...in case of a crash they make quite sure that you do injure your skull. He reaches out and helps me to buckle.
We take off and in less than 20 min we land in that wonderful island. The Scandinavian safely in the ground approaches me and says in good English Have you flown a plane before ? My reply:Oh I am an extreme faster leaner I hope we meet on the flight to Dsm in thre days time. No comment...I was all prepared to Meet Goans, from Zeng, Dsm and Mombasa.... Grandolfo about to leave his Manor PS...Nice diversion fro Goan Popes, Goan Clubs etc. Let me tell you episodes of Flying in a Russian Plane over the Sahara, then another fro mZurich to Australia when the Pilot pot it on an Auto