Blowing in the wind

Ground reference manoeuvres

We've just returned, hot and sweaty, from lesson nine of ninety-four. Things are starting to fall into place and while my flight was very far from perfect, I didn't make any big errors today and held my altitude a lot better. Normally I throw in a few clangers, such as talking on the wrong frequency which is very confusing for the recipient or having a blank brain moment half way through a checklist or even forgetting to level off at the top of a climb.

Today's lesson was an interesting one. Called 'ground reference manoeuvres,' it is a requirement of the American authorities and not something that I recognise from UK training.

It sounds simple — just fly a series of basic manoeuvres; turns around a point, tracking around a square and S-turns across a line. The challenge is to fly them accurately with reference to ground features. This brings two difficulties.

Firstly, the exercise is flown fairly low so our ham-fisted wandering around the sky, almost unnoticeable at height, suddenly becomes very obvious. The second is the biggie — understanding the wind. The wind complicates flying enormously and can take quite a while to get your head around.

Unlike a car, an aeroplane has no attachment to the ground and doesn't give a hoot about where it is or what is underneath it. It flies relative to the surrounding air only. Invariably the air is moving; in other words there is a wind blowing.

Normally, you think of the wind as blowing against you; you can feel its force pushing you around. But that's a a ground-based way of looking at things. An aeroplane does not feel the wind, is simply moves with it just as a balloon or a cloud does. From a few seconds after take off until touch down, the wind (if constant) has absolutely no effect on the way the aeroplane flies.

If you didn't look down at the ground you would never know the wind was there. Even the instruments are of limited help. The compass will tell you which way you are pointing, but is not the way you are going, not if there is any wind. Similarly, the air speed indicator tells you how fast you are flying through the air, but your speed over the ground might be quite different.

Top: what happens if you ignore the wind (bad)
Bottom: getting the right correction angle (good)

So — say you wanted to fly directly east to a friend's airstrip, but the wind is coming from the north (your left). If you ignore it and just point the plane east you are going to end up way to the south (your right) of where you wanted to go, because during this time you and all the air around you has drifted south.

The answer is to point the aeroplane slightly into the wind, so the nose is a little to the left of where you actually want to go. The aeroplane will appear to people on the ground to be skidding sideways, but this is an illusion; it is flying straight through the air, but the air itself is moving.

Get this 'wind correction angle' just right, and your slow progress to the left will exactly cancel the right drift from the wind and you get to your buddy's airstrip by the most direct route. The correction angle depends on the wind speed, air speed and the track on the ground you want to fly. Not easy to do in your head — for longer trips pilots will calculate it in advance using a 'navigation computer', which sounds posh but is actually is a couple of bits of plastic nailed together in the middle. I won't bore you by explaining how it works; here is a guide.

Wind affects speed as well as direction; if the wind is behind you rather than from the side, your ground speed will be faster than your airspeed, and visa versa.

How wind can ruin a good turn (FAA Flying Handbook)

Wind also affects turns. We try to turn in neat, accurate circles. This isn't too hard to do through the air, but the wind messes things up when you want to describe a circles on the ground, you end up flying a sort of squashed spiral pattern.

To counteract this, when turning into wind we must use less bank for a more gradual turn because our ground speed is low, and steep bank when flying downwind to compensate for the high ground speed.

I hope you can see there is more to flying around a square field than first meets the eye! So how did it go? Judge for yourself.

We arrive at the top left of the picture, and I first attempt a one-mile circle around the spot marked in blue. Then I attempt to fly twice around the set of fields marked in blue again keeping one mile away. Finally I am trying to fly S-turns over the road in the middle, aiming to cross it at 90 degrees each time.

I have jury-rigged an old phone as a GPS logger and it does jitter around a bit, I wasn't wobbling around quite that badly as the image suggests, but I concede there is room for improvement! I should point out the wind was very light making the exercise much easier that it should have been.

After landing, we had a chuckle when ground control told an Airbus A320 to hold and wait for us, rather than the other way around. I was a little worried we would get sucked into the engines as we trundled past the monster in our little spam can.

Next week we are starting some basic instrument work — how to fly a plane without looking out of the window! I suspect the poor old brain is going to be hurting again.

Some pretty pictures especially for fellow cloud spotters

Intense downburst from a towering cu-nim (in English; a rain cloud)

Arizona can be relied on for dramatic sunsets

A rainbow over the Rainbow Valley practice area

And just to prove I'm not making all this up!

'About to write blog' checklist complete

At long last, our flight training has begun. It's been a slow start, with instructors still busy with students nearing the end of their training but we've all been up at least once and lessons should fall into a regular rhythm next week.

One of the school's Piper Warrior aircraft on final approach to Mobile,
a runway in our Rainbow Valley practice area
(middle of nowhere) built by Lufthansa for training.

For me, the flying here could not be much more different from my previous experience. We are operating from a long concrete runway under air traffic control in a very busy area, which is a big contrast to the rural grass airfields of East Anglia. The aircraft handle in more or less the same way as others I have flown of course, but have far more instruments and equipment on a huge panel, and a comparatively poor view outside.

But the biggest difference is the deliberate, standardised procedural approach to flying. In gliding, you learn a set of skills but must constantly use your judgement to decide your next move. There is no fixed plan, instead you adapt to the situation, making the best of the sky around you.

The panel and controls in a PA28 (Photo Martin Hodgson)

Here — and in the passenger jets we will eventually fly — every phase of the flight is carefully planned and flown according to a standard procedure with an associated checklist. Many of these have to be memorised, which is a daunting task at first. It's one thing to master them on the ground, but when you are flying a plane, trying to follow a fixed route and listening and talking on the radio you tend to find they drop right out of your head. Silly acronyms certainly help (A-Bump-Firms and Meat-log are two of mine) but it's very easy to forget what each letter is supposed to stand for when you are a little busy.

To illustrate this idea (and not, I hope, to bore you silly) a typical one-hour lesson with an instructor might go something like this:

Two hours before take-off:

• Meet up with flying buddy, in uniform with all the required kit packed.
• Check with dispatch which aircraft has been assigned, review the technical log, then go out to the aircraft detailed set of checks on it (The 'A' checklist). 
• Assuming no faults are found, return to the student crew room to plan the flight. 
• Get the current and forecast weather for the route and any weather warnings. These are in an archaic and highly cryptic format that only pilots can understand.
• Read all the special notices and restrictions (called "NOTAMS" or "Notices to Airmen").
• Complete mass and balance calculations to check that the plane will not be overloaded or out of balance at any point during the flight. 
• Complete a risk assessment.
• For cross country flights, prepare a flight log with all the waypoints, times, speeds etc. Mark up the map with all this information. File a flight plan with air traffic control.

Half an hour before take off: 

• Meet up with the instructor, brief the contents of the lesson and the departure and arrival procedure in use. Review all the paperwork prepared above.
• Book out and walk out the the aircraft. Do the pre-start checklist, followed by the start checklist and the after-start checklist.
• Contact dispatch to 'block out' and taxi onto the apron, while doing the taxi checklist from memory.
• Complete the power checklist, followed by the lengthy before take off checklist.
• Call ground control and get clearance to taxi to the runway holding point.
• Call the control tower and get clearance to take off.
• While lining up on the runway, complete the cleared onto runway check list from memory.

Take off!

• While not strictly a checklist, there are various checks to be done during the ground run.
• Between taking off and 200' you can concentrate solely on the flying!
• At 200', complete the after take off check list.
• During the climb, regularly check the engine instruments and weave from side to side, as you can't see over the nose.
• Complete the top of climb checklist, and made a radio call when entering the practice area.

The actual lesson

• The content of the lesson is defined in the school syllabus, and designed to start from the very beginning regardless of previous experience. Not that I mind this in the least, as you can see there is plenty to learn and practice even if in the early lessons the exercises are straight forward. Around 30 minutes are available for the actual exercises.
• At regular points during the lesson, carry out the routine cruise checklist and make position calls on the radio

Going home

• When it's time to head back, listen for the weather conditions at the airport (the "ATIS") and give a descent briefing.
• Complete the descent checklist from memory, interrupting if needed to call the control tower and to announce your departure from the practice area.
• Complete the initial approach checklist from memory once near the landing circuit.
• Complete the landing checklist (memory again), also radioing your position and getting a landing clearance.
• For the final part of the circuit, approach and landing, you are allowed to concentrate on the flying more or less uninterrupted.
• At 300 foot, you must decide if you are 'stable' — on the right line, with the right speed and height, set up for landing and with acceptable visibility and wind speed/direction. If not... you must go around and try again.
• When safely down and clear of the runway, stop and do the after landing checklist.
• Radio ground control for taxi clearance and return to the parking area.
• Complete the closing down checklist.
• Call dispatch to let them know you are back.
• Chain down the aircraft and install the sunshades.
• Leg it to the nearest air-conditioned building.

At any point between start-up and shutdown, the instructor can and will throw in emergency drills. Here you must perform the correct emergency checklist from memory. There are seven of them.

And finally...

• The instructor will de-brief the lesson, and make suggestions on what you could have done better (i.e. not fluffing the checklists). 
• They will file a report on the lesson and enter the times in to the database, check and sign your logbook, and set you any homework. 
• Oh, and if you filed a flight plan you'd better remember to close it or search and rescue will be out looking for you — and that can get very expensive.

So you can see that an apparently simple one hour flying lesson is in reality a three to four hour test of memory and endurance! Add to that daytime temperatures will be well into the forties and you can see we have our work cut out for us.

But it's not all work work work

Here are some of the ways we have been keeping busy.

At the local ballpark for 4 July celebrations...

...where we helped to break the world record for the most people wearing
false moustaches at the same time (2000).

At the South Mountain County Park

The Organ Pipe Cactus - emblem of Arizona

Phoenix is generally much prettier when it's dark (and your eyes are shut)

Not a bad selection at a local bar

Mucking about in the pool

At the Commemorative Air Force Museum, in Mesa. Douglas A26.

Schweizer TG-3A Army Training Glider

A very shiny Mustang

My first baseball game. Hardly anyone in the crowd and the Goodyear
Centennials lost, but hey it was only $1 a pint.

Note: A recent rule change means I am not allowed to take photographs in the aircraft. Any pictures on this blog from this point on showing the inside of a flying aircraft or the landscape will have to be borrowed from previous courses or found on the internet.

Hot hot hot

Location: Phoenix Goodyear airport, Arizona
Temperature: 118°F (48°C)
UV factor: 11 out of 10
Last rained: 83 days ago

Today's weather forecast. Jealous? Don't be!

We have finally arrived in Arizona's Sun Valley, a strange land of desert, rock, cactus, poisonous animals and searing heat for our 'fair weather' flight training. I'm not sure you could reasonably describe 48°C as fair weather, and the forecast for the weekend is even higher.

Imagine the rush of hot, dry air that hits you in the face when you open your oven, but continuously. If you stay in the shade and keep still it is actually quite bearable, but because it is so dry you don't realise how much sweat you are generating and how quickly you are dehydrating.

When flying a small aeroplane staying in the shade is not an option, and they do not have any air conditioning either. Dehydration or heat stroke obviously would very serious consequences, so the many warnings about staying hydrated are appropriately dire. And a forced landing out in the desert hardly bears thinking about...

It's not just the pilots that suffer, hot air is less dense and is bad for aircraft performance. Here, take-off is not allowed above 45°C, the aircraft manufacturer's performance data simply doesn't go that far. Hence flying starts at dawn, when in the relatively mild thirties and it can all be over by 11am.

The facilities at the training centre are a pleasant surprise, and we are feeling very welcome and quite spoiled. The staff have been fantastic, good old American customer service in action.

Our rooms are large and well maintained, we have access to two pools, BBQs, floodlit tennis courts, a small gym and our class has even been loaned three large cars. The canteen, open from 5am, is excellent and everything except the aircraft is air conditioned.

Training has started with a week of ground school; orientation lectures, the issuing of piles of literature and charts, safety talks and lots more bureaucracy. This is likely to last until the end of next week due to 4 July holiday, so fingers crossed we will be flying by next weekend.

This Saturday will see our informal welcome party hosted by the classes above us, and is shaping up to be a huge party. There will, no doubt, be some sort of enforced humiliation / initiation ceremony awaiting us. It's all part of the fun... bring it on! I will let you know what happens — if suitable for public consumption — and also take some pictures of the airport and the area for next time.

Stay cool... if you can.

An ideal birthday present for a pilot

Years ago, when I was at school and later university, my birthday would invariably be spoiled by falling in exam season. Now I am a student again my date of birth has come back to haunt me, with my 37th birthday falling on the first of four days of intensive exams.

I'm now delighted to report that I have finally received the exam results and passed them all. Apart from one slight wobble — Aircraft Performance — got some excellent marks. Without wanting to sound like a an Oscar acceptance speech, I would particularly like to thank my wife for her help and support. Her... inventive... memory techniques (ICAO became "I-Cacky-Boo-Boos" and EASA evolved into "Eee-Arse-A-Bum-Bums") she helped me achieve full marks in the dreaded Air Law exam.

The trusty PA28 Piper Warrior will be the basis for
all our single-engine training - but not in this livery!

A few people in our class did drop a paper or two, and sadly will have to retake in a month or so. We are joined by some new students who are in the same position from an earlier class. Welcome!

We have also crossed the bureaucratic minefield now required to undertake flight training in the USA; something they are understandably very twitchy about these days. With our visas, tickets, TSA permits, SEVIS forms, FAA medicals and other acronym-heavy paperwork firmly in hand, we are all set to jet off to start what should be the most enjoyable phase of our training — five months flying small single and twin engine planes in Arizona with the goal of a commercial pilot's licence.

An ideal birthday present for a pilot

What would a trainee pilot want for his birthday? More flight training of course! My wonderful family clubbed together to buy me a holiday course gliding at the Long Mynd, a rather special location on the Welsh Borders.

Rather than bore you with endless technical information about gliding (don't tempt me!) I will try to let the pictures tell the story. Throughout this blog, you can click on any picture to see a full sized version.

The sun setting as the weather clears over the Mynd on day two

 Although we lost the first two days to poor weather, on day three I was checked out and approved to fly solo from this challenging site. The airfield is shared with sheep, horses, pedestrians and cyclists. It does not have runways as such, rather areas where the heather is kept a little more trimmed. The site slopes this way and that, most of the landing areas being significantly up or down hill. And the whole thing is 1600' high perched on the top of a long, thin hill that is the reason for its existence.

The airfield from above

 The beauty of the Long Mynd — aside from its natural beauty — is its ability to attract all three types of lift commonly used by glider pilots; ridge lift, thermals and wave. Sadly the wind decided not to blow in its normal westerly direction onto the ridge, but remained stubbornly northerly. Despite this we had good thermals on the last day, and I flew for several hours in three different types of gliders.

The superb Discus, my favourite, a high performance glider that is a joy to fly

Sharing a thermal with Alan, a fellow course member, in a K23

At the Mynd, gliders are mostly winch launched. Their winch which consists of a 400hp Chevvy engine connected to a drum wrapped with about half a mile of steel cable and is located at the opposite end of the field. The glider is connected to the cable via a special hook and weak link, designed to prevent excessive forces on the aircraft and to automatically release the cable if slack or overflown.

On a signal the cable is wound in, accelerating the glider forwards rapidly. Once it has enough speed, the pilot will allow it to pitch up and generate lift, flying steeply up somewhat like a kite. Typically you can achieve heights of 1000-1300' this way though 2000' is not uncommon. After the launch, a smaller retrieve winch pulls the cable back to the launch queue.
 

A Twin Astir two-seater training aircraft about to launch.

The club's K13 two-seater being winch launched

Once launched, a glider is always descending through the air around it, typically at around 1.5 to 2 knots or a steady walking pace. The only way to postpone the inevitable landing is to find and exploit air that is rising faster than this. One such source is the thermal — pockets areas of air that have been heated by warm sunny ground and broken free.

Finding these thermals, and staying centred in them is a real challenge of piloting skill. It is necessary to fly slowly with a lot of bank to keep the circle small, and to control your speed very accurately to hold position and to coordinate with any other gliders sharing the thermal with you. The air is often turbulent, causing your airspeed and climb rate to constantly change. The thermal tends you throw you out, can be small and is generally surrounded by sinking air. And it is of course invisible — though if you are lucky Buzzards or Kites will show you the way, or a cumulus cloud above hints at its position.

View from the cockpit while thermalling

The launch queue stops for a civilised lunch

Eventually the sun got low and the sky clouded over, the thermals dying out for the day. It was time to fly the gliders back to the hanger and pack them away — and intricate 3D jigsaw that squeezes eight gliders and a motorglider into one small hanger.

The gliding day draws to a close

Hanger packing at The Mynd is a work of art

What a great birthday present! A big thank you to the staff and helpers at Midland Gliding club for a memorable week. And best of all I can go back again and claim the two rainy days another time.

Airbus G-EUOE

I am a cadet in the early stages of flight training, with little knowledge, no real experience and absolutely no authority. However this does not stop people asking me about accidents and incidents, like the Airbus A319 that ran into trouble at Heathrow last week.

My usual answer is simply that I don't know and don't wish to speculate. Fortunately in this case I don't need to. The Air Accident Investigation Branch have already released a preliminary report. It's short and readable, so go ahead — get the facts not the nonsense that appears in the newspapers.

Job done!

Just a quick update and a lot of numbers for you... after six months, 650 taught hours and many more of private study, about 8000 pages of text book and no less than 39 exams it's all over. The final seven CAA exam papers are complete and all that remains now is a tense wait for the results.

Personally there is only one exam that I have concerns about - Aircraft Performance - as it was the least predictable, included a lot of difficult multi-mark questions and the time available was extremely limited. Perhaps I was having a bad day, but I don't feel that I was able to focus properly and may not have scored well on that one. Only time will tell.

We have just one more week of study in the UK, covering flight safety issues and starting some of the work towards the foundation degree in airline management that is included in our course.

After that, a generous break then we will be jetting off to Arizona to finally get our hands on some aeroplanes.

One more number - 6600 - the number of people who have read this blog. I am genuinely surprised and flattered that it has generated this much interest, and I hope you will keep reading as we progress on to the much more interesting part of our training. Thanks!

Ground school complete

Firstly congratulations to all the lucky candidates that have been accepted on the second round of the Future Pilot Programme! I look forward to meeting you all. More selfishly, I have to say it is a great comfort for those in the first round to know that British Airways expect to have openings not only for us lot, but shortly after for another 76 cadets as well.

This week marks a major milestone - the end of ground school. Six months of hard graft have come to an end, and all that remains is to pass the final exams.

Having just done a 'dry run' in the form of the school finals, there should be no gremlins lurking. We just need to keep up with the revision and not forget anything in the next week and a half.

Tradition dictates fancy dress on the last day, and our class did not disappoint, with a full complement of revealing, embarrassing yet thankfully anonymous morph suits.

And a full dance routine to match, to the tune of "Call on me" and inflicted on several innocent unsuspecting classes. The instructors seemed impressed, but one commented that it was not as good as the real video (I'll let you Google that yourselves).

Anyway here is the boring official photo of the class (on a very windy day):

And here is the unofficial but much more fun version.

Various problems have caused a delay to the start of our fair weather flight training in the USA, but on the bright side I do have a month of English summer to enjoy post-exams (no irony intended) and I will be taking the opportunity to brush up on my flying in my aged but charismatic glider as well as saving some pennies for the USA.

Photo: Steve Thomson

 Until next time!

Sitting up the front

When I last wrote, just a few weeks ago we were enjoying a short break after our phase one finals. Now as I write now we have just completed the phase two mid-term tests. The pace is blistering.

The character of the phase two subjects are noticably different from the first. There are only two 'memory' subjects — air law and operational procedures — though these require mind-bending quantity of technical detail to be retained.

The remaining subjects are far more practical. We are looking at general navigation, a course that Marco Polo would find familiar, and radio navigation, its slightly more modern cousin.

Aircraft performance takes the principles of flight that we learned in phase one and applies it to practical situations such as take-off distances, climb rates and optimum altitudes. Flight planning is even more hands-on, being based largely around a massive set of technical graphs and tables that require a sharp eye and an sharper pencil.

Finally there is mass and balance, which is essentially about making sure the aeroplane is not too heavy to take off, and once it is flying will remain stable and controllable. If the term 'centre of gravity' means anything to you, that's pretty much the whole story.

There is a lot of common ground between the subjects, and overlap with phase one subjects, making the whole thing less daunting. Certainly it feels like we are on the home straight now.

In the jump seat

That's enough boring stuff, now for the exciting bit. As part of our programme, we are invited to take a familiarisation flight — shadowing the crew of a short-haul flight from start to finish and sitting in the cockpit 'jumpseat' — the little fold-down chair behind the pilots' thrones.

I was fortunate enough to bag a place on a return flight from Heathrow to Milan — a route that not only promised plenty of time in the cockpit and amazing mountain views, but didn't even require getting up early.

First I met up with one of our liaison pilots who was to be the first officer on the flight — let's call him Sid. Sid was showing me around the very plush crew facilities in terminal 5 when we bumped into our captain for the day — let's call him Bob.

G-EUYN - our ride for the day (Photo Tony Woof)

In large airlines it is rare for a flight crew to work together regularly, often they will not even have met before. This may seem strange, but has proven to be the safest way to operate. The pilots have only the standard company procedures and terminology in common and don't develop the shortcuts or shorthand that over-familiarity can foster.

The first task was to log in to the dispatch computers and print out all the documents needed for the flight. Currently these are done on paper, but will be moved to electronic versions accessed via ipads soon.

Included are the weather forecasts including the high level winds, details of the route and all the waypoints, notices about any airspace or other problems (notams), fuel calculations, mass and balance, any dangerous goods and more. We sat down with a coffee to review them together.

Most simply need to be checked over and approved by Bob (in aviation, the captain is responsible for everything). But there are judgement calls to be made; in our case an unusually high 130 knot tailwind was forecast and Bob elected to carry a little extra fuel over the calculated figure just in case it did not materialise.

The other thing that did not materialise was our plane, which had been held up in Amsterdam and was running late. We waited poised at the gate for its arrival, the crew keen to make up some of the lost time. Soon enough G-EUYN appeared, an shiny one-year-old Airbus A320.

We boarded as soon as we could (several people challenged me on the way, which was reassuring) and the pilots set about their tasks and checklists. Bob headed out to do the 'walkaround' — a quick check of the outside of the aircraft which is done before every flight, while Sid gave me the legally-required safety briefing. Apparently, the way to escape from the cockpit in an emergency is to jump out of the window while holding on to a sort of strap device which is supposed to lower you gently to the ground. Hmm.

Cockpit of a typical A320 (actually judging by those seat covers
this may be the deluxe version...) Much to my own amazement, I can now
tell you what at least 90% of those knobs, levers and gauges is for.

 This is a busy time in the flight deck — the pilots are programming the flight management computer with the route, fuel and payload information; talking to the ground controller; dealing with various visitors to the cockpit such as the fuelling guy, cabin crew and the cargo handlers. But it all went like clockwork and in no time we were being pushed back from the stand, starting engines and taxiing off to the runway.

As we queued on the taxiway, I watched one of the new A380s line up and take off. They are absolute monsters, some can seat 800 people. Perhaps not the prettiest aircraft ever designed, but an engineering marvel all the same.

Our turn came, and Sid taxiied onto the runway, lined up and opened the throttles. You can feel the awsome power of the jet engines as they wind up to full thrust, but it is oddly quiet up here and you feel quite detached from the maelstrom in the engines way behind you. I tried to follow the various calls made during the take off, but it does all happen very quickly. Sid lifted the nosewheel off the tarmac and in seconds were were climbing at an astonishing rate. Seconds after that, the auto pilot is engaged and the pilots watch critically as it executes the planned departure track perfectly.

Except for critical parts of the take off and landing, passenger jets are flown with reference to the flight instruments and not the outside world. Still I found it a bit of a shock when we vanished into a wall of cloud and could see precisely nothing. The clouds bumped us around for a few minutes before the jet climbed free from the English murk and into the bright sunshine above.

Gorgeous views of the Alps are a perk of the job

The undercast stayed with us most of the way, but thankfully gave way for some beautiful views of the Alps as we passed over. Although I know them well, I could not identify any of the peaks from this unique view point but it was stunning all the same. Mont Blanc was one of our waypoints, so we flew directly overhead the peak of Western Europe.

The powerful tailwind appeared as promised giving us ground speeds well over 600 mph, rapidly winning back the earlier delays. I watched what the pilots were doing and tried to ask intellegent questions, but kept talking over air traffic control on the radio. To be honest there was so much to take in I was happy to just watch and listen. After months of rather abstract study in the classroom, it was great to see it all happening right in front of me.

Top of descent point came along incredibly quickly, the engines rolled back and we started the gradual drift down. Milan is a quiet airport, and gave us a straight-in clearance, which means a constant slope is flown all the way from the cruise to the landing.

Milan Malpensa magically appears out of the valley murk

 
Helpfully, the clouds below petered out a few miles from the airport, and I could see the runway in the far far distance, already perfectly lined up and 'on glide' — two white and two red lights either side of the touchdown indicating we are already on the correct three degree slope.

British Airways have developed a way of sharing the workload between the pilots that I think is quite unusual and also very insightful. One pilot, not necessarily the captain will be nominated 'pilot flying' for a particular leg and will fly the take off and landing, and make any inputs required during the cruise. The other is 'pilot monitoring', and acts as a backup to spot any errors or problems, and deals with the radios. This is the normal practice.

However, with BA the pilot monitoring will fly the approach — this is the section from about 25 miles from the destination to 1000' above the runway. The idea is to keep both pilots involved and alert, and make them both 'stakeholders'. The pilot not flying has to be 'in the loop' in order to fly the approach properly. The pilot flying is certainly going to want the approach flown correctly and accurately, as they have to land from it.

So Bob flew the approach and handed over to Sid for the landing. This is one phase of flight that remains entirely manual and quite demanding. I watched him juggling the side stick, dealing with a little turbulence and cross wind, to bring us neatly on to the centre line for a good positive touchdown.

Textbook stuff as you would expect from the Queen's finest

It's a common misconception that a super-smooth touchdown means a 'good' landing. This may be appropriate if you have a long and dry runway, but it is far more important to get the plane down onto the tarmac in the right place and get weight on the wheels as soon as possible. Until this happens, neither the brakes or the reverse thrust can be used.

Pilots will aim for a 'positive' touchdown with no 'float', especially if it is wet, about 1000' from the runway threshold. This puts them in the best position for getting rid of all that energy and getting the plane slowed down with plenty of room to spare.

As we rolled off the taxiway towards our gate, now just a few minutes behind schedule, there were no signs of life - they have a relaxed attitude to timekeeping here. With the help of an electronic gizmo on the terminal wall, Sid parked the beast inch-perfectly and shut down the engines.

Time to do it all again — paperwork, walkaround, checklists, computer programing and ATC — for the next leg. Bob and Sid calmly and efficiently got the job done for the flight back. They would fly two more legs after that as well. To me, with my brain already aching from information overload, that seemed like marathon. But for the crew, with all their training and experience, it's all in a day's work.