De copiloot van Air Alps was een bekende. Hij nodigde me uit in de cockpit. Zo vloog ik van Bolzano naar Rome met een koptelefoon op. Stemmen in Verona, in Bologna, in Perugia praatten tegen ons. Ik vertelde de piloten over James Salter die Air Force piloot is geweest en in het fenomenale Burning the days schrijft: ‘We flew to Hilo every day and Kauai twice a week, and there were irregular trips to Australia, Japan, or one of the dots of islands in the south, usually with double crews. Distances were greater then. Setting off for Sydney or New Caledonia meant being gone for a week. Flying hours were what was sought, either on routine flights or the long ones, when it came in large, sedentary servings. There were very few crashes. With native boys we walked at night in the kneehigh surf of distant islands, the sea warm and pulling, hunting for lobsters, reaching down to grab them with gloved hands. That is what one remembers, the rain, the solitude, the dampness, and of course the longing, stepping outside the ramshackle buildings late at night wondering what they were doing elsewhere, in Honolulu or at home.’
Geschreven door Ernest op: woensdag 3 Maart 2010 - 07:37:46
