A Passionate French Pilot
Locations: L’aérodrome de Fayence Tourrettes.
Country: France
Tiny villages are all around, some still living on past achievements, some struggling to keep their citizens, and some in between ideas of what to become. One particular village in the south of France which can be described as the latter, say forty minutes from Nice, is one picturesque community. Somewhat filled with life on and off, yet a place I have grown fond of over the years. Fayence. Situated on the slope of a smaller mountain, the village climbs. Making up alleys not only narrow but also steep. On the top of the village, a historic clock tower stays put, and at reasonable hours reminds its inhabitants of an exact time. The town’s beige yet warm facades moreover provide a suiting reminder of a time that has been. At the bottom of the village. The steep slopes flattens, before climbing again on the opposing side. Which leaves a beautiful flat valley filled with fields, some greener than others. Difficult to miss, Amid vineyards and flower fields a green void stretches a kilometre in either direction.
L’aérodrome de Fayence Tourrettes.
The aerodrome is the home of flying enthusiasts, flying smaller planes and glider planes. Individuals whose passion for flying only can be described as a lifestyle. The airfield may belong to the enthusiastic pilots yet around the green field. A long promenade-ish track slicks the edge, without fences. Not an elegant one, one made of dirt and gravel. Used but not limited to, local dog owners. The path’s lengthy track around the field is enough to satisfy the dogs as well as its owners. At times, one can walk under the planes that either lift or land.
I often bring my camera, hence you never know what perspective might appear. One particular scenic evening while I was walking around the aerodrome alongside my girlfriend, we stumbled upon a pilot cleaning his plane. Mich as he later introduced himself, is as mentioned one of these passionate French pilots.
Mich notices my camera and calls me over in French. Since I barely can keep a longer conversation with the cashier at our local boulangerie in French, I am at first hesitant yet my curiosity takes over. I realized soon that my worries were in vain, his spoken English was far better than expected yet filled with a warm French, lovable, dialect. We end up talking about his plane, and what it takes to take care of it since he does it himself. I am especially intrigued when he tells me that he does three longer trips each year. Stretching as far as England with in-between stops at smaller airfields around villages in France. Noticing my limited knowledge of planes, Mich takes his time to patiently answer the questions I have. It turns out that Mich is the administrator of the local club (Musée volant pays de Fayence) and invites me to take part in this private French sphere. Before parting ways we exchange details, and I can’t help but ask for his picture.
Later I sent him the pictures I had spontaneously taken of his plane and him. He gladly responded with thanks and ended with the words that got me more than excited:
"The next time you come we can prepare the subject. We can fly."
Words: Philip Käll
Photos: Philip Käll
