****** AVIATE, NAVIGATE, COMMUNICATE ******

Well. It’s been a while…

I started learning to fly on 3rd July 2010 and it has taken me almost a year and a half to finally qualify as a private pilot (JAR-PPL). Had I known back then all the frustrations and extra costs involved in completing the course I may not have taken the plunge. Fortunately my failure to research the topic thoroughly meant that by the time I was told how much longer it would really take and how much more it would really cost to learn to fly in England I was too far in to turn back. So all I could do was suck it up and carry on. I say fortunately because once I’m sat in the pilot seat there is no other place I would rather be. The feeling of flying a plane is amazing. Considering that when I started I had an irrational fear of landing this is quite a turn around. Developing a passion for flying does have its drawbacks though.

1) My interest in the weather seems to have developed from carefree to almost obsessive. This is because learning to fly in English weather is a nightmare. There was a period over winter 2010 that I didn’t fly for about 2 months. Cloud too low. Cloud high enough but visibility too low. Cloud and visibility ok but prediction of thunderstorms on the way. Cloud and visibility ok, no storms predicted but wind is not right. Oh, and fog. BLOODY FOG. DAM THAT BLOODY FOG. I can understand that they built Biggin Hill on a hill because, well because it’s on a hill and high up. But this also means that whilst it may be clear and sunny everywhere else, even up to half a mile away, Biggin Hill could quite feasibly still be shrouded in hill-fog. Yes. The MET office do actually have a separate term for fog on hills (“hill-fog”). The term probably coined just for Biggin Hill.

2) Cost. There’s no avoiding it. Flying private planes costs quite a bit of money. I am happy to sacrifice everything else in order to do this though so I don’t mind. I don’t have a car and I lived in a £200/month (almost a) squat for a year, the savings of which paid for this course. I’ve met others that work at flying clubs in exchange for flying lessons. If you want to do it badly enough you’ll find a way.

Anyway. On Friday 25th November 2011 I passed my PPL flying skills test, which formed the end of a course that comprised of a medical examination, a brain scan, 7 written theory exams, 1 oral radio exam, 72 hours of flying (10 of them on my own) and a ridiculous number of take-offs and landings. If you’re thinking of doing the course you shouldn’t need a brain scan. It’s not normal procedure. I had it because of a motorbike accident I had in Belize in 2009. I’ve sent all my documents off and to the Civil Aviation Authority (CAA) at Gatwick so hopefully within 2 weeks time I should be the proud owner of a JAR Private Pilot Licence.

Step one of the plan complete. Now just to build up my flying hours, get hold of a plane and plan a trip to Africa… The more I learn about this topic the more I realise that this is going to be a much longer project than I’d originally envisaged!

The sightly less encouraging development is that I seem to alternate between ‘rabbit caught in the headlights’ and ‘gibbering idiot’ when trying to speak to Air Traffic Control (ATC) on the radio. I originally thought that my irrational fear of landing would be the stumbling block. However, landing a plane seems to be easy compared to speaking on the radio. My poor instructor can’t understand why I have such a problem repeating back what they’ve [ATC] just told me. I’m not sure why it’s so difficult either but there’s a risk it’s turning into a phobia.

However, once I can prove I can communicate properly on the radio, take off and land a few more times and pass my Air Law ground exam my instructor will let me go solo! Then it’s just the minor tasks of completing at least another 30 hours of flying, 7 more ground exams and the big ‘general flying exam’ and I’m home free… Well, I guess I would still have to confirm a plane to take, decide where and when to go, how to get there, resolve the various legal and administrative  problems associated with flying across Africa and perhaps then I’ll be ready! Daunting? Yes. Impossible? No (well I hope not).

As with the www.greasysprocket.co.uk website, I’m putting together a site for others that want to either learn to fly or plan their own flying adventure. I’ll also be posting updates to that site with how things are going with preparation. It’s still a working progress but you can have a look on www.aviatenavigatecommunicate.co.uk

To obtain your Private Pilot’s License you have to have flown at least 45 hours (a proportion of which are solo), pass a number of theory and practical exams and pass a CAA medical examination. The flying lessons with EFG Flying School, at Biggin Hill, had been going well so before committing the next chunk of money I decided to get my CAA medical examination completed. I didn’t want to pay for a lot more lessons and then find out I couldn’t fly solo for medical reasons. I’m fairly fit and healthy so I didn’t think it would be a problem.

Unfortunately I may have been too honest when I completed the pre-medical questionnaire. Within the multitude of ‘yes/no’ questions about my family medical history, previous operations, etc. they threw one in about head injury or concussion. Not thinking much about the consequences I mentioned my motorbike accident in Belize last year, due to the head trauma I received. Those that read the blog may remember that the accident was in the middle of nowhere and although I was seen by some extremely well qualified doctors they weren’t Belizian and there are no medical notes, scans, x-rays, nada… It was only as I was relaying snippets of this information to the doctor during my medical and I could see his face dropping further with every new detail that I wished I’d just answered ‘no’ in the first place. To cut a long story short, he’s going to have to refer my case to the CAA and ask them for advice. So what should have been a formality (I am otherwise fit and healthy) might turn into a show-stopper or potentially costly round of brain scans. Seems that nothing is ever easy…

It wasn’t a totally fruitless visit though. In what was a rather surreal moment during the medical I discovered some interesting facts about my old school house-master. Bear with me on this. Part of the medical involved an ECG scan, where the doctor stuck 8 electrode-pads to my body (4 of which were on my chest). The hairiness of my chest meant that before he could stick the pads, the doctor had to cut away some of the hair to make 4 bald patches. He must have thought, as hairdressers do, that cutting hair is a good time for small talk so he asked where I went to school. Turns out he went to school with, and was best mates with, my old house-master (15 years before he was my house-master). I also now have an inkling why my house-master was so good about all my misbehaviour at school. Seems that he was quite a tearaway in his time. Who would have guessed it?!

I’m hoping we can get this ‘previous head trauma’ thing sorted, especially as I had already started building the website for planning this adventure and have sunk a fair bit into flying text books, lessons and the medical test. Guess I’ll have to wait and see.

The long awaited reunion with my motorbike was emotional but not in the conventional sense. No misty-eyed embrace between man and machine. More along the lines of: “Surely you can’t charge that much to dispose of the crate? You thieving b@stards! Oh, if you put it like that I guess I’ll have to. Here you go.” Followed by installing the battery the wrong way round, thus unknowingly blowing the master fuse, and then worrying that none of the electrics worked. It took a while to realise that the battery could have the + and – terminals switched and after doing this it took another 10 minutes or so of frantic key twisting and calling the RAC breakdown recovery service before I thought to check the fuses! Replacing the master fuse brought back the electrics. Unfortunately this didn’t appear to be enough to make up for over 7 weeks of neglect and the infernal machine refused to start. I think the engine finally caught on about the 20th push start so I cancelled the RAC call-out. And then as one final test I had to pump up both tyres from 4psi to 30psi with my mini-now-broken-foot-pump. Why hadn’t I just ridden the bloody thing into the sea in Brasil and left it at that! Thankfully my sister was there to take the luggage home and of course my nephew provided moral support with the occasional helpful statement like: “Ollie. What that?”; “Ollie motorbike broken” and “Mummy, I need wee, wee.”

Before:

After:

With both bike and rider finally back on British soil I feel that my Latin American motorcycle adventure has come to an end and although the bike needs a lot of love and my right ankle still occasionally aches and bruises I reckon we did ok. It’s good to be back and I’m actually looking forward to knuckling down to a bit of normal life for a while. I’ve even started to make a living…

However, whilst the wanderlust is quelled it is by no means extinguished. In a previous post I mentioned a couple of ideas for future travels and I’m pleased to say that my dad is up for one of them so we’re looking into it. If we go ahead with the idea I’ll produce and online resource for others that wish to do the same (as I did with www.greasysprocket.co.uk) and will also keep those that are interested up to date with a blog. I’ll post links to the online resource and blog here. The planning and preparation involved will be considerably more than that needed for riding a motorbike across a couple of continents so I can’t guarantee that we’ll make it. I am fairly sure though that father and son travelling over strange lands in a confined space will be anything but uneventful. If you thought I was absent minded at times you should meet my dad!

Here’s the PLAN.

If I can learn how to do this…

… and we can take this…

…we’re going to try and fly here.

Got to go now as I have quite a bit of work to do. Thanks for reading and good luck in any future adventures of your own.

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I didn’t find what I was looking for. Although if I’m honest, I probably couldn’t tell you exactly what “it” is. I did have a good time looking for it though and I definitely learnt quite a bit about myself in the process. I met some wonderful people that I hope I’ll remain in contact with. It wasn’t all rosy though and I also met people I’d happily never see again. Fortunately may more of the former than the later. Over the 27,500 miles I got through 5 rear tyres, 3 front tyres, 4 oil filters, 10 litres of oil, 1 chain and sprockets, loads of chain lube, 1 helmet, about 2,500 litres of petrol and about £15,000 (total for everything consumed. i.e. I don’t have it now – plane tickets, bike transport, insurance, living/spending money, etc.)

I’ve been asked quite a few times this year: “So what’s next? You going to ride round the world?” The thing is; I like riding my motorbike but I’m not fanatical about it. I only learnt to ride a bike for this trip because I thought it would be more interesting than doing it on a bus. And it was. However, if there is a next adventure I think it will be slightly different. The idea of flying a light aircraft around Africa or sailing a boat to a far off land are top of the list at the moment. Whether they remain just ideas is another matter though, as I would imagine the time and financial commitment involved in either is considerably more than learning to ride a motorbike. I guess we’ll see what happens.

I did have one idea in Mexico though; and have been developing it ever since. It would cost nothing (financially) and would only take a month to complete. However, for me, it makes riding a motorbike through Latin America look like a walk in the park. If I ever have the guts to do it and come out the other side I’ll let you know what it was and how it went (on this blog). Chances are I’ll chicken out though, so don’t hold your breath. (And no mum; it’s not settling down and having kids!)

Only one thing left to do now. Walk to the pub on this cold but fresh and sunny English afternoon…

I also had the pleasure of attending a ‘country’ wedding of one of Isabella’s best friends; in her home town of Araguari in Minas county. I probably shouldn’t be surprised but it was very similar to a wedding in England, even down to the cheesy songs played by the band during the reception. The main difference being that the pastor was Roman Catholic and the ceremony didn’t start until 9:30 at night.

At the risk of sounding like an ungrateful tourist, watching our guides make fire in the rain was probably the most spectacular thing I experienced in the Amazon. The problem is on my part. I’ve had my expectations skewed by nature programs and films. It wasn’t the wildlife. I knew that we might not see many animals. The jungle is vast and they have better places to be than hanging around paths cut by humans. It was the vegetation that let me down. I had visions of thick, impenetrable jungle and vines, all shrouded in mist. (Perhaps with the odd monkey or parrot occasionally swinging/flying into view.) In reality, the canopy (60 metres above) starves the rest of the jungle of sunlight. So in the desperate race upwards many plants don’t waste energy producing lots of leaves and fruits at our level. It all happens in the canopy above. My deflated expectations aside, it was still a hugely enjoyable experience; spotting monkeys and birds (albeit in the canopy 60 metres above), catching piranhas and caymans, learning about the medicinal properties of plants and trees, making blowpipes, canoeing through flooded forest channels, watching sunrise and sunset from the river, etc. It’s worth going, just don’t expect many David Attenborough moments.

After being shown this extremely large and well camouflaged tarantula every nature poo thereafter was a rather tense affair.

I also have a vague recollection of buying (perhaps sponsoring) a couple of Amazon rain forest tress for 50 pence each when I was in junior school. I’ve half a mind to try and claim a couple of the mahogany trees I saw. At 6 metres circumference and 60 metres tall they must be worth a fortune now. Not a bad little investment… I wonder if I still have the certificate somewhere.

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I removed the battery, windscreen and wing mirrors and then left them to it. Well, left them to it if you call “leaving them to it” hovering around, taking photos and intervening if I thought they were doing something that might harm the bike… Generally being a nuisance. Having said that. If I hadn’t intervened a couple of times they would have put my bike on its centre-stand. They also would have strapped the bike down (not using the centre-stand) to the full depression of the suspension. Again a potentially bad thing for a motorbike in transit. For those that are interested Horizons Unlimited give good crating instructions.

Photos below.

Measuring up.

Strapped down and ready for the rest of the crate.

Many men with hammers.

Taking it out to the lorry for transportation to the warehouse.

On the lorry for the 5 mile journey to the warehouse. The most expensive 5 miles this motorbike has ever travelled (see costs below).

Now for the costs…

• Authenticating paperwork for Brazilian customs = R$150 / GBP56 / USD85 (This has increased form my previous post because customs have since asked for more documents. Looks like the fun and games have already begun.)
• Crating the bike (see above) = R$1200 / GBP450 / USD680
• Moving the crated motorbike by lorry from the crating company to the warehouse = R$430 / GBP160 / USD245 (yes, that’s GBP33 per mile!)
• Brazilian Customs clearance and moving it from the warehouse onto the ship = R$1190 / GBP450 / USD675
• Sailing it from Santos to Tilbury = R$219 / GBP82 / USD124
• UK Customs clearance and getting it off the ship and onto the road at Tilbury = R$930 / GBP350 / USD527 (although not confirmed yet)

Giving a nice and juicy total of around R$4120 / GBP1550 / USD2335

Of course, if you wanted to crate and deliver the motorbike to the warehouse yourself (as many people do) you could reduce this by about 40%.

I can supply a more detailed breakdown of the costs for anyone that needs them and I’ll also update the horizons unlimited shipping database when I actually finish the process. (ie. I have ridden my motorbike out of Tilbury docks.)

I can’t tell you how effective they have been in exporting my motorbike from Brazil yet, because I won’t know until 25th March, but I can tell you that my shipping agents in Brazil have provided great customer service. When needed, they have come in person to translate and ensure the various processes are completed correctly (e.g. paperwork authentication and motorbike crating). They have also explained as much as they can about the intricacies of the export process and why it’s such a nightmare to import/export to/from this country. Their contact details are below (along with the crating company I used).

Nothing to do but wait now. So the plan is this; horse racing in Sao Paulo this weekend, then off to the Amazon for 10 days – including a 5 day trek into the jungle, back for a wedding in Minas the following weekend, then proper site seeing in Sao Paulo before heading back to Blighty at the beginning of April. Starting to get a little anxious about that last bit…

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* On average there are 25 motorcycle accidents and 1 motorcyclist death a day in Sao Paulo. The highest in Brazil.

Shipping Agent in Sao Paulo – Santos – Brazil.

Contact: Victor Hugo, Overseas Brasil (Transporte e Logistica Ltda.).

victor.mello<AT>overseasbrasil.com.br

+55 11 27293460

www.overseasbrasil.com.br

Shipping motorbike from Brazil. Shipping motorbike to Brazil. Brazil shipping agent. Freight forwarder Brazil. Shipping motorbike from Brasil. Shipping motorbike to Brasil. Brasil shipping agent. Freight forwarder Brasil.

Crating company in Santos – Brazil

Contact: Cesar Pacheco, Export Paletizacao.

export<AT>cmg.com.br

+55 13 32321231

www.export-paletizacao.com.br

Crating motorbike in Santos. Motorbike crate. Santos. Brazil. Brasil.

After a while the bus stopped and the ticket lady shouted in our direction that we were next to Lapa district and that we could walk from there (translated by my helpful sweet-seller). We thought otherwise though because the area didn’t look particularly familiar or busy. So to the ticket lady’s slight irritation and the locals’ amusement; we stayed on, the doors closed and the bus moved off. After a little more confusion we decided we would get out at the next stop and walk into Lapa to find the bar. But by this time the amused interest had turned to concern for our safety and quite a few people told us not to walk around in that part of town. By now most of the bus was involved in much discussion as to the best way to the bar, what bus to take, whether we should take a taxi instead, where we should and shouldn’t walk, etc. along with a fair amount of laughter at our expense for getting on a bus in Rio and not really knowing where we were going. Eventually the masses decided that we should stay on the bus till the end of the line, at the bus terminal, and then take a taxi to the bar from there. However, after everyone else had disembarked at the terminal the ticket lady told us to stay on because she and the driver had decided that they would drive us directly to the bar. So the five of us were driven in an otherwise empty bus to the bar for free. Like a giant, free taxi. I bet you wouldn’t get that kind of service in London!

And after all that, we arrived 15 minutes before the live band was due to finish playing. Although if I had to choose between missing the band or getting robbed I reckon I’d choose missing the band every time.

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* To give you some idea of a not so safe area; one of the girls in our group was robbed at knife point the previous afternoon three streets away from the bar we were going to. This was the only robbery I heard about during my 4 nights in Rio though; so not so bad.

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I’ve heard that although trying to import anything into Brazil requires large amounts of patience and money, shipping items out of the country is supposed to be slightly easier and cheaper. Unfortunately I haven’t met anyone yet that has done it. In fact, Dave (a biker I met in Ecuador) rode to Rio de janeiro, made some inquiries and then promptly turned round to ride back to Buenos Aires to ship his motorbike from Argentina instead. However, I promised some friends in Sao Paulo that I would spend their holidays with them at the end of this month so I’m shipping from Santos, 60 miles from Sao Paulo, regardless.

As you can imagine, shipping is a fairly common topic among motorbike tourers. How and where did you import? With whom and where are you exporting? etc. Many months ago a German biker in Panama gave me contact details of a hostal in Chile (Martina - villakunterbuntvalpo<AT>yahoo.de) that help bikers export their prise possessions from South America. After trying to engage freight companies in Brazil myself (with mixed results) the hostel owners in Chile set me up with a UK shipping agent with sister company in Sao Paulo. The Sao Paulo shipping agent will look after the Brazilian paperwork, help me crate the bike and put it on a ship out of Brazil. The UK shipping agent will then do all the UK paperwork for when my bike arrives at Tilbury docks in London, where I will hopefully unpack it and ride off into the sunset (or traffic jam on the M25). You still with me?

The people I’m dealing with in Sao Paulo are lovely, although I’m a slighly tense that I’m their first motorbike customer. So now to the process of exporting my bike. I’m complicating things slightly by shipping personal possessions in the crate with the bike (in my hard luggage and duffel bag). Apparently this requires a whole new set of checks and paperwork!

So…

1. I’ve had to itemise and price everything that’s going in the crate.
2. I’ve had to sign over power of attorney to 6 document processors/lawyers enabling them to crate a legal entity under my name that will be used to export my bike. Apparently it’s like creating a company for me that will dissolve in 6 months.
3. This legal document, my passport, the itemised list of possessions, the original temporary import documents and my signature then had to be photocopied and authenticated. This was done at a special office (common in Brazil) and cost me about 5o USD. And yes, each set of documents had to be done at a different counter in the office.
4. I then had to buy a plane ticket to prove I’m leaving the country as well. All this is then sent to the customs clearance officer in Santos. The customs clearance officer then decides whether everything is in order and the bike can be processed to leave. This can take between 2 and 14 days. The worrying bit here is that if s/he decides things are not correct s/he can hold up my bike, causing me to either have to change or miss my flight or leave the country before it does.
5. The bike is provisionally booked to sail on a ship on 25th March. Normally I would have to deliver the bike to the warehouse 10 days before then but because I’m sending personal items with it I have to deliver it 15 days before sailing, as they anticipate “hold-ups”! I’ve also been warned that an English motorbike may arouse interest in an otherwise boring day of a customs official so perhaps they’ll open it up anyway. My response to this was, “well why don’t they have a good look at it all before we crate it up.” Apparently that’s not how it works. Everything is crated. They then look at the bill of lading, decide what they want to look at and remove anything that they don’t like (or do like – depending on how you look at it).
6. Now to the crating. I was going to do this myself. I’ve since decided that if I let a professional do it we’re less likely to get picked up on some technicality. The crate though is the most expensive single component of the costs. Unfortunately my shipping agent doesn’t crate motorbikes themselves so they’ve found me a man that can. This adds another level of complexity, as they need to sort out whether the bike is crated at the crating company and then transported to the warehouse or the crate is transported to the warehouse and the man crates it there (although this second option may be against the warehouse company policy). On the face of it this all seems trivial but the negotiations and costs involved are not. All of this is exasperated by the fact that although my Spanish may have been adequate for this, my Portuguese is not. However, (my English speaking) Brazilian shipping agents have promised to look after me and they are even having someone meet me at the crating company in Santos to make sure I don’t get ripped off.

I am not oblivious to the fact that sending my bike home is probably going to cost more than its worth but I’ve grown quite attached to it over the past year to it’s coming with me. Also, if it’s this tricky exporting a motorbike I can’t imagine the paperwork involved in legally selling it here. The bike is linked to my passport so although temping, I’m not keen on trying to sell it illegally either.

Anyway, I’m off to Rio for a few days until I have to return to Sao Paulo to deliver the bike to Santos.

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