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Friday, May 2, 2003, 14:43 UTC (5:43 pm local) Report from Amsterdam, Holland, by Karl Hipp Wednesday, April 30 Even though we got a fairly early start today, we didn't take off till 10:45 am from Porto, Portugal. It was just moments before our flight plan would time out. Porto is a big airport with all the wonderful security, and the airport authority has no separate way to deal with general aviation. I had a card with a telephone extension number for the airport, a mobile phone number, and fax number that the handler had given me when we left the airport on Sunday. I had the hotel fax the flight plan and then tried to call. No answer on either line. The taxi dropped us at the only airport access point--the main terminal. We went to information and they called the "handler". The handler told me go to gate 7, show the police my pilot's license, aircraft registration and flight plan, and they will meet us on the "other side." We did so, but at the gate the police shook their heads and, in so many words, told us to go away. So it was back to the information desk, and another call to the handler. In 10 minutes they were at gate 7. The police then said we needed boarding passes; just like passengers on a commercial airliner. Idiots! The handler--a girl--was gone another 10 minutes and got us some boarding passes. Once we got past the police, John and the girls were taken the "about 2-3 miles" to 56Y. While John was loading and preflighting, I was escorted to the guy who computes all the fees we owe. It is apparently a complex formula based on the aircraft weight, where you came from, the length of your stay, and where you are going. In addition to that information, I had to show him my pilot's license and aircraft registration. They spend time doing investigative work to make sure you don't live in Europe with an "N" registered aircraft. Also, they will try to collect VAT (value added tax)--around 17-19%. I complained to the handlers of what a poor job they had been doing and all the delays. It is their job to expedite our flight plan, weather reports, and all aspects of our transit through the terminal and airport property. After paying the $60+ airport fees, I was escorted to the handlers office. I was met by a supervisor who apologized for the very poor service (the Lears and Falcons get good service--I wonder why). They waived all the handling fees, which I am sure would have been $40 to $60, but charged for a "customs" fee (even though we never showed anyone our passports) plus charged a transport fee--all totaling about $18 Euro. By the way, U.S. dollars are about .89 Euro at present. We contacted the tower, got permission to start and taxi. Our clearance was ready at the runway. I flew the leg to La Rochelle, France. The flight was 3 hours with tailwinds averaging 25 knots. We managed to stay on top for the most part at FL130 through Portugal and northern Spain.
Backseaters at FL130: Barbara relaxes with no oxygen … while Judy tends to her knitting There was light ice in the clouds. John and I anticipated the coastal cloud tops to be lower and we were correct. Once in French airspace, we got a descent to FL90 since we had no oxygen. There was ice in the clouds over France throughout the descent till FL50. The approach to La Rochelle was visual. Ceiling was 3,000, wind 270 at 25G30, landing runway 28. At Rochelle, it was another Mercedes diesel taxicab to the hotel. The meal that night was typical of France. Small amounts of good food that is expensive. Also, as Dave Buttle has observed, "It doesn't matter what you order; you will get what they bring you."
Thursday, May 1 Today, John and I were going to take a bus to visit the German submarine pens. It's a bank holiday. No buses! We took a taxi. Observation: There have been continuous "holidays" since we arrived in Europe. No wonder they pay such high taxes. Between all the holidays, and two hours "closed for lunch", they don't work much. We were told the sub pens were off limits and guarded. We figured we would get a look from the outside. As it turned out we had no problems gaining access. Maybe the French don't guard stuff on holidays.
The sub pens are an enormous set of structures. John estimates a bizillion cubic yards of concrete (he's an engineer; he should know). Apparently the Allies bombed the pens like crazy in WW2 with no effect. The girls had an expensive "sissy" endurance lunch while John and I were off by ourselves. We had several beers with a couple bowls of mussels that afternoon since all the shops were closed. DARN IT!
Friday, May 2 We were up at 7 am and in the air at 10:00 am, having departed La Rochelle for Lelystad, Holland. It's now 10:23 am local, FL80, and John is at the throttles.
We'll meet John's cousin, Dini, in Amsterdam and send this report from her place. I just called her on the satellite phone to inform we are one hour out. It's solid in the clouds; now at FL100, negative ice at minus 5 Celcius. The HF antenna is full of ice and shaking the tail. Signing off; 11:15 am.
(Karl had almost starved while in France)
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