I am feeling enormous pressure to perform the impossible in explaining the absurd, but I will try... In an unfortunate stacking of misfortune and through no fault of any one individual, we found ourselves collectively gutted on the promenade of the Turkish recreational paragliding Mecca of Oludeniz.
The entire field happy and excitable as children in the bright sunlight and feather-like sea breeze caressing our faces as it slipped off of the turquoise water. The search for a task had us up bright and early on the buses to Camil three hours south.
That perversely optimistic plan was very quickly squashed in favour of a guaranteed free day of flying at Oludeniz (see previous post here).
Another hour or two on the buses saw us on the Oludeniz promenade slavering in anticipation at the thought of the three thousand meter cloud base, the cool water of the lagoon and the prospect of cold beer in the Buzz Bar. The unthinkable news filtered through: The gliders are not coming! Howls of anguish from disbelieving pilots drowned the Buzz from the Bar. For some reason the truck carrying the bulk of gliders was not allowed to leave the Camil area, so it went back to Pamukkale.
Now let me try explain how it feels to be in a place like Oludeniz without a glider after a week of no-flying: Ever read the book or see the movie Charlie and the Chocolate factory?
Imagine you were one of the kids with a golden ticket to see the factory with Willy Wonka and you are just about to take a dip in the chocolate river when the Oompa Loompas quickly drain the chocolate lake and hide all the sweets while you stare around in wonderment and Willy Wonka howls with laughter at the prank.
Don't get it? Try this one: Imagine you somehow fake your way into heaven and stake your claim to a bevvy of vestal virgins only to discover the virgins are unionized and on strike for eternity so you get to watch re-runs of Little House on the Prairie.
Still don't get it? Well nor do any of us! I consider myself one of the lucky ones as I have flown there before, but I can tell you that the only thing worse than not flying for a week is watching a hundred other pilots descend from the heavens and flop onto the beach in continuous waves.
and finally... we will go the Camil again tomorrow because hope trumps all!