The weather in London was surprisingly benign, which is odd, because it is normally blowing a gale at this time of the year. Once we pull up to the gate we complete our shutdown procedures and just as we’re talking about where to go for a beer the head cabin crew announces someone would like to ask us a question.

 

I’ve been a mega aero-sexual since I was very young. Growing up beside an airport will do that to you. I used to try get into any flight deck I could when I was travelling so whenever someone asks to visit the crew and view the cockpit I am more than happy to entertain their request. We are obviously more than happy to entertain any little people who have questions about flying so we turn with welcoming smiles only to be confronted by a middle-aged man with a sugar-gut that he hardly manages to shoehorn through the door.

 

My first reaction is to continue to smile because honestly I do not know how to react to this. I glance to the other guy and we, in unison, ask what we can do for the man. He asks is it okay if he asks us a question, which is in fact just another question.

 

Me: Yeah, what would you like to know?

Passenger: Do you believe the earth is flat?

M: No.

P: Do you have to push the controls forward every 1500 miles to account for the earth’s curvature?

M: No.

P: Well then the earth must be flat!

M: No, it’s not.

P: How do you explain the fact that you don’t have to push forward then?

M: The airplane actually flies a fixed pressure setting that maintains a constant altitude above the earth. This pressure in this atmosphere conforms to the earth’s curvature and therefore no active corrections are required by the pilots flying. (Can’t beat the science)

P: The earth is definitely flat; I actually fly myself.

M: (Trying not to laugh) Really, and you believe the earth is flat?

P: Oh yeah, I’ve seen it for myself – while flying.

M: That’s nice, but the earth is definitely not flat. I think you must be confused.

P: The earth is definitely flat.

 

Having run out of patience, I decide to point out the switch that we use for chemtrails on the flight deck. He seems both stunned and excited and we thank him for dropping in and chatting to us. I look across the flight deck, start to laugh, and realise that although flat earth theory died with the murder of hundreds of Bahamians when Columbus arrived there in the 1490s it must be back in vogue.

 

I end up balls-deep in flat earth “science” and I leave the hotel an hour after I should have to hit the pub. I’m telling some local (non-pilot) friends all about it, and this blog, when I get a text message from a pilot I know. He’s wondering how I am getting on in the pub – which he names. I am a bit freaked, because I tend to be a little loud sometimes, but then he explains that a pilot he knows overheard my conversation and has been texting his pilot friends. He says he is so complimentary it borders on weird but honestly I am thrilled that he would mention the blog in such a way and encourage people to read it.

 

I always thought that social media was the key to spreading this blog but maybe just talking about it to my friends is the best way. So, if your own friends are boring the piss out of you in the boozer pull up a stool and I’ll regale you with stories from the flight deck. I have plenty.

 

Happy Christmas everybody.

 

LJ