Sunday,  April 27, 2003,  14:45 UTC (3:45 pm local)

Report from Porto, Portugal, by Karl Hipp

JOHN FLEW THE LEG DOWN FROM SAN SEBASTIAN.  WE HAVE A HOTEL DOWNTOWN, AND JUDY IS TAKING A BATH.  SOMETHING IS MESSED UP ON MY KEYBOARD AND I CAN'T NOT DO CAPITAL LETTERS. [Editor was able to fix it for the balance of the report]

While the girls and I loaded the plane this morning, John rechecked the weather and filed the flight plan tp Porto, Portugal.  CNN news showed a mess of rain where we are headed in Portugal, but my computer Flightcheck shows the terminals predicted CAVU.  John confirms after checking the met office in San Sebastian that, as usual, CNN is full of s- -t.

Portuguese countryside near the coast

The 2 1/4 hour flight becomes 2 3/4 with strong headwinds.  Once airborne, John begins to negotiate the complex route. MEA is FL120.  He negotiated

FL80 VFR on top.  In Spain, it is not called VFR on top; you need to proclaim  you "have the ground in sight."  Eventually, we eliminate a dozen waypoints by getting direct to LPPR.  John talks to Center and we make quite certain that we are still on an IFR flight plan.  We have adopted the phrase, "Are we in positive control?"

On final, runway 17, Porto, Portugal

LPPR is a major airport.  There are no FBOs like in the states.  You get parked way the hell in the middle of nowhere, and then a guy shows up in a mini-truck and asks, "Do you require a handler?"

I'm thinking, hell no, I just greased the suitcase wheels; we can do the three miles to the terminal easy!

Stupid question they ask.  Of course we need a handler.  When asked the charge, they shrug; they have no idea.  I make it clear we are in no hurry for a van, we need to get fuel and we need to change a spark plug.  On runup at San Sabastian, we determined the spark plug for the left magneto on #3 cylinder, left engine, was bad.  The JPI EDM 760 told us so.  Great unit!

The handler asked if I wanted jet-A.  I said, "No; Avgas-100LL."  Another truck appears. Two more handlers working for the same outfit get out.   The first guy looks at the plane while the second comes over and asks if want jet-A.  I answer again, "No; Avgas-100LL."

The guy from the first truck leaves.  A van pulls in with a girl employee and another guy, and they start grabbing our bags.  I tell them, "Not so fast. We need to change a plug and get fuel." They say no problem, the girls can sit in the van and we will wait.

A big fuel truck pulls up five minutes later.  It says Jet-A all over.  I explain to the driver we need 100LL.  By the way, these guys all speak fairly good English, they just don't care or pay attention. 

Karl, his own A&P, changing #3 spark plug at Porto

John and I got the bad spark plug out and are ready to put in a spare.  A big bus pulls up and they start to move the girls and bags to the bus.  I go to see what the hell is going on.   They tell me, "We need the van for a few minutes."  I say "Put the bags on the ground and come back in half an hour.  I still don't have fuel."

"No-no it's okay."   We change out the plug.  

Porto fueling rig

Ten more minutes; here comes a jeep with a fuel tank on a trailer.  The guy jumps out and asks, "What kind of credit card?"

I reply,  Visa, Master Charge, American Express.  What do you want?"                                                                                 

"Shell," he replies.

I say okay.  He wants to see the card.  He looks at it.  Turns out it's not okay.  It needs to have an aviation company name and aircraft registration on the card.

We ask if he will accept cash--Euros.  He will.  We finally have it worked out.

We took 287 litres.  Cost was 302 Euros, or about $4 per gallon, with my "commercial" discount.

We now have 120 gallons aboard for the flight Wednesday to La Rochelle, France.

Almost fueled and ready to head for the terminal

The bus hauls us to the terminal.  We enter a nondescript back door and avoid immigrations, customs, and security that the passengers from the commercial flight which just landed are enduring.

Then, it was two beers in the terminal restaurant and a taxi to the hotel.

The hotel is okay; 80 Euros with breakfast. The girls have everything planned for the next two days.

Judy is out of the tub.  I will send this off, put on my pants, and with some help from John, go find more beer.