Spice - Fun Event Feedback

Below you will find some fun feedback from a few of our existing members. This is direct from the horses mouth, unedited (apart from the odd spelling mistake) and shows you just what a fun place to be Spice is !

Gliding at Stratford - from Richard

It might seem unusual to send "fun feedback" about an event I attended almost two years ago, but in this case it's entirely appropriate.

Back in June 2003, I attended a trial lesson evening at Stratford Gliding Club. This wasn't the first time I had ever been in a glider, but most of the half-dozen flights I had had in the previous 25 years had been just as a passenger.

On this particular evening, I was fortunate enough to have two flights, and on the second of these the controls just about started to make a bit of sense to me, and I began to think that, if I put my mind to it, I might get a bit more involved in this sport. As luck would have it, Stratford offer a 28-day membership with each trial lesson, and the following Sunday promised good weather. This turned out to be a pivotal day for me, as I got a flight in the afternoon just as the best rising thermal air currents were kicking off. I had my first experience of spiralling upwards in one of these, keeping company with the buzzards, and reaching well over 4000 feet above the ground.

Physically, we were back on terra firma after 45 minutes, but I knew at that point that my mind was going to remain in the sky for a lot longer. Further weekends at the club ensued, and serious training began, and with it a remarkable insight into the way I was using my own mind. Gliding is probably the purest form of human flight, and as such very quickly reflects the way the pilot is thinking. It requires presence of mind more than anything else, so that each situation can be responded to, and it never ceases to amaze me how accurately my own state of mind is mirrored by the quality (or otherwise) of my flying. Moreover, having an experienced instructor flying with me enabled me to understand the sky in ways I simply had not previously imagined. Now all this may sound lofty in more than one sense, but there was also a good deal of graft and frustration to cope with as well (remember learning to drive?). At the time, much of my work was freelance, but based in schools, resulting in a chunk of free time in the late summer. I found myself spending three or four days a week at the club, flying several times a day, often wondering why I was doing it. Then on 11th September, after two flights, the instructor told me to consider one or two things that we had been looking at, but, and I remember the words exactly, "…the only difference is I won't be in there with you." I guessed at first that someone else was going to take his place, but then I saw him remove the parachute from the rear seat. I was being sent solo. I don't mind admitting that I went through all the pre-launch checks in a state somewhere between disbelief and abject terror. For the next few minutes I was in the air, constantly asking myself, "Is this happening?" Well, it was happening, and it happened again and again. Going solo was really just the beginning. Two years on, I'm still really a relative novice, but am currently training to fly cross-country and looking to buy a share in a glider...

Flirting for Fun from Mike

I just joined "Spice" last month, and on Saturday went to the above event. I just have to say want a "great day" I had.

Kate Rogers just kept me in laughter all day long, I have never laughed for so long, in one day "EVER" I had to take out my handkerchief to wipe a way the tears from my eyes, and at the end of the day, my jaws were acing from laughing.

Also a great room full of Spice people, thanks to Sue for ringing me and getting me of the wait list on to the event, and please pass on my good wishes to Kate, I will be attending any course which she is talking/taking, a great & funny lady.

Leaving Spice! from Sarah

It is with genuine sadness that I write to end my membership with Spice. Something I never thought I would actually do!

I am buying a new house with my partner in January with mortgage payments that would make your eyes pop out and so recently I had to re-gig my finances and save every penny hence very little spice activity on my part. Keeping my membership going in recent months has been more out of sentimentality - to keep a link with the good times - but it is a luxury I have to end with the house in sight.

I have to say that Spice represents one of the happiest times in my life. The people I have met and the activities I have done have helped me stretch, grow and develop into the person I am today and a person I now like very much. The personal development course especially helped me sort my life out which I know resulted in me finding (and keeping) a wonderful partner and I use the stuff I learnt every day with the kids that I work with.

Huge thanks to you and your team who have been so friendly and supportive during my time with Spice. You do the most amazing job, adding joy and laughter to the lives of so many. I know it must seem such a gruelling task from your end each day but know that what you offer is beyond measure. A bit like the MasterCard advert. We might pay membership, activity money and insurance but what we get out is priceless!

Sarah Bryan

Medieval Jousting from Di

I'm almost speechless at today's event. As a real non-rider I had an amazing time..the guys there made sure I could do every part of every event and were so encouraging. We hooked up hoops at the tilt (and I got them both..yay!) We had turns at hitting the quintaine..which is a target thing that spins round and yep I managed that too. We rode down facing each other as if we were jousting and gave each other a high five and we got a chance to ride against one of the knights with a shield and hit his shield with the pole...almost a real joust. I knocked him off! Well ok...he took a dive but it was great fun. On top of all that we got to fight with swords and staffs and perform our fights for each other and to ride round with flags, proper lances (very heavy ones) and wear great tunics and at one point, helmets. They had a photographer there all day so at the end we could go and choose pics of ourselves to order. As a total novice on a horse I got so much confidence at being able to ride one-handed I reckon 2-handed must be a doddle. Just loved it..loved it...loved it. So...I'd say...even if you can only just sit on a horse this would be one to book...a totally ace day...and if I can do it anyone can!

Quad Biking from Julia

I would just like to say what a great day I had on Saturday at the Quad Bike event. It's something I've always wanted to do - perhaps even own a quad bike!! - Considering I was somewhat frightened when I took the first sharp turn that was on an incline, with heavy rain, thick mud I and went sliding the wrong way - I lost my nerve. Yet this was soon returned after the amazing trek through the woods. The organiser's knew how to accommodate me by going a little slower. The heavy wet clay is still stuck to my boots!! My street cred is alive!

Welsh 3000's Weekend from Jan

Please pass on a really big thank you to Pete and Adam for taking great care of us all on an extremely tough weekend. From the very moment I arrived on the camp site I was made very welcome by them both and I knew we were all going to get along really well. Starting the days walk at 5 o'clock on Saturday morning and not arriving back at the camp site until just before 11 o'clock on Saturday night, meant that everyone was completely exhausted, but the guys kept our spirits up and we all managed to have a few laughs over a hearty meal and a few beers. Sunday was again a tough day, but compared to Saturday it was just a walk in the park. Except for Crib Gogh, oh my goodness, that was frightening, because I'm a little afraid of heights when it comes to cliff edges, but again Adam and a couple of my fellow Spicers stayed very close and gave me reassurance when I needed it. I've been back home a couple of days now and my feet are still swollen and painful, and its going to take a few more days until they are back to normal, but I think the memory of this weekends experience and personal achievement will stay with me for a long time to come.

Survival Weekend from Guy

It was challenging and very practical hands on weekend, some found it tougher that expected. Certainly would not be to every Spicers liking. Survival conditions were simulated as far as reasonably practical do to so, less food, less sleep and a lot less comfort etc than one is used to. All part of Cambrian Survival practise and policy! The Champagne, Mars bars and Course Certificates handed out at the end were more than welcome, particularly the Mars bars.A lot of useful skills were learned. Mike and Barney's teaching and people management skills were of the highest order.Highlight of the weekend was enjoying the Hot Rock Sauna at the end, constructed from a birch framework, insulating blankets and steamproof groundsheets. Lowest point was the despatch and preparation of the chickens, but that's something one deals with in one's own way and necessary in a survival situation.Will look forward to similar events, perhaps the river crossing can be included next time.

Fort Belan from Karen

"Wanted to send some feedback in regarding the excellent value weekend spent at Fort Belan. It was a wonderful location ... and even better than the description in the newsletter when we booked it. A big thank you to Kim, for doing the organising over the wknd... especially for her thoughtfulness in sending me a text on the Friday evening when we were running rather late getting there... to let me know any problems contact her and that she was saving us some wine for when we eventually got there..!! Also for all her and Alan's work for sorting a great local walk on Sat especially with finishing the afternoon along the beach in the sunshine.. could not believe the glorious blue skies in November (joked that Kim had done particularly well ordering the weather for us too!!), and Sunday around Snowdonia... which was well thought out to finish somewhere on the way back home for most people. It was obvious that Kim and Alan put a lot of work into organising the murder mystery event Sat night... although it got rather complicated..(confused?? ... we all were.. even the sober ones!... and no one guessed correctly.. still never understood the motive!) but it was enjoyable and a very good way of getting everyone to socialise with people staying in other houses. Overall an excellent weekend, and spent with a really good group of people"

Trip by Coach & Four from Marion & Jeanne

For a day that exceeded all expectations, we must say a big "thank you" to Spice. The event was "The Coach and Four Trip" at Darley Dale on Sunday 14th December.When we first booked it we thought that perhaps we would go for a short ride along lanes, stop at a pub for lunch, then return to the stables. What we didn't know was that we would be going on an hours' journey to Bakewell, travelling along lanes and main roads in the company of the driver, Caroline, two young coachmen, twelve passengers and best of all, Father Christmas! Sitting on top of the coach, which was decorated with holly and pulled by four magnificent grey horses, with bells on their reins and passing through beautiful scenery on a cold Winter's day, with flashes, hoots and waves from all the cars on the road was absolutely wonderful. But the highlight of the trip, without any doubt, was coming into Bakewell, with the driver blowing the posthorn to announce our arrival and people pouring out of houses, pubs, hotels and shops to greet us and take photographs. Half an hour stop in Bakewell, then we were off again back to Darley Dale with the posthorn sounding, as the four grey horses got under way. Back at the stables, tea and biscuits were waiting for us, then we stayed and watched some of the other horses and ponies, with their traps being prepared to take part in the town's Christmas parades. We do hope Spice will run this event next Christmas and for many Christmases to come, because it was the most magical day anyone could ever experience and we will never forget it. Many thanks from two very satisfied customers.

Jet Provost Club from Jeremy

I thought you might like some feedback from one of your newest members, who's just completed their first adventure! It was yesterday, Saturday 7th February 2004, and I duly phoned to ensure the event was still being run despite high winds and the forecast for snow and blizzards. It was! I drove the fifty odd miles from my home in about an hour and the directions were spot on. The administration took two minutes and then I got to see me aeroplane and the pilots and watch some other adrenaline junkies go up for their flights.Eventually it was time for me to put on the jumpsuit and the helmet complete with earphones and microphone and strap into the tiny seat with the 6 point safety harness. After a fairly short run down the runway we left the ground at around 80 miles an hour and literally 2 seconds later we were doing 150 and then we went straight up - yes, vertical like a rocket and I felt a huge weight pushing me into my seat, and just when it started to become a little uncomfortable the pilot took the power off and we went into a controlled stall. 1 think my heart stopped for the first of at least a dozen times as the Provost fell like a stone with the wings spinning round and round. For a second or two, I thought we were out of control, and then the next moment we were going vertical once again and went immediately into two, no, three barrel, rolls, and then another four or five the opposite way, and then climbing again, only this time the pilot said: "Look up" and then we went up and over in a perfect loop de loop. I felt my stomach leave my body and attach itself to the inside of the canopy! Then we went into a vertical dive and I saw the air speed indicator pass 250 knots and then the aerobatics started again! All the time my headphones were filled with my voice saying: "Oh! my God, God, I don't believe it, God" After what felt like 5 minutes, but was actually about 20, we levelled out and made our approach to get back on terra firma. We had achieved 4 G numerous times with a couple of 5G turns, and all this in an aircraft of 40 years old! Nothing can really prepare one for this experience. It is the fairground ride to end all fairground rides, but of course you really do leave the ground" The thrill and the adrenaline is still giving me a rush and you ought to let people know they can experience Top Gun at first hand for relatively little expense.

Trip by Coach & Four from Marion & Jeanne

For a day that exceeded all expectations, we must say a big "thank you" to Spice. The event was "The Coach and Four Trip" at Darley Dale on Sunday 14th December.

When we first booked it we thought that perhaps we would go for a short ride along lanes, stop at a pub for lunch, then return to the stables. What we didn't know was that we would be going on an hours' journey to Bakewell, travelling along lanes and main roads in the company of the driver, Caroline, two young coachmen, twelve passengers and best of all, Father Christmas! Sitting on top of the coach, which was decorated with holly and pulled by four magnificent grey horses, with bells on their reins and passing through beautiful scenery on a cold Winter's day, with flashes, hoots and waves from all the cars on the road was absolutely wonderful. But the highlight of the trip, without any doubt, was coming into Bakewell, with the driver blowing the posthorn to announce our arrival and people pouring out of houses, pubs, hotels and shops to greet us and take photographs. Half an hour stop in Bakewell, then we were off again back to Darley Dale with the posthorn sounding, as the four grey horses got under way.

Back at the stables, tea and biscuits were waiting for us, then we stayed and watched some of the other horses and ponies, with their traps being prepared to take part in the town's Christmas parades. We do hope Spice will run this event next Christmas and for many Christmases to come, because it was the most magical day anyone could ever experience and we will never forget it. Many thanks from two very satisfied customers.

Bardsey Island by Lesley Smith.

Bardsey Island. Some of us have heard of it but likely not, that small bump on the map off the very tip of the North West coast of Wales. A tiny fishing village and dash down a steep costal path to crystal blue and green waters in a craggy bay to be greeted by cheering Spicers was a breathtaking sight. The breathtaking bit was nothing to do with the view or the company but the 18 crates of lager; eight cases of wine; bottles of gin and some fine whisky liqueurs and all for ten people over four nights. One or two Spicers had managed to squeeze in the odd flip-flop; "T" shirt and bag of crisps but why waste good drinking space in the baggage?

The Welsh Reg Varney type who gaffed the bags into the ferry from the inflatable boat that also contained us, was mesmerised by the volume of drink. He didn't bother to speak to us he just gazed in wonder. It may also be the seven rather assertive women and only three men that set his imaginings racing. He was wrong!

Around the curve Bardsey came into sight, like an ancient turtle swimming in the Irish Sea. It was a bright, breezy day that smacked of Enid Blyton. In the bay there bobbed a welcoming committee of a dozen seals who bottled, puffing and hissing in the fleam. The island has seventeen human inhabitants in the summer and two hardy souls in the winter months. The ferry rarely lands in the winter months. On the shoreline breakwater stood a gloomy group of tanned birdwatchers who looked on us with envy. "It's wonderful - your're lucky" said one. We battled in a human chain to pass vast telephoto lenses, bags of files and stray hiking rucksacks full apparently of bodies by the weight. They also struggled with the crates, boxes and bottles. Sort of, off with the intellectuals, the lovers of nature and in with the drunken bums, the cookers of chilli and "Where did you say the toilet was?" Reg Varney set off with them and we set off following a tractor with our bags on, initially by a farmer with no arms which I felt was incredibly gutsy of him until I noticed he had his arms down his green chest high waders - which is a nasty habit but there is no telly on Bardsey. There is also no running water, flushing lavatories, electricity, television, microwaves or anything vaguely like a bathroom. That, of course, happily excludes politicians, gyms with matching leotards or those ghastly take-away kebab houses that serve you what is affectionately known in the Midlands as "Pensioner's Leg". The mountain took care of any intrusive mobile phone calls.

We were dropped off at three farmhouses. Two joined and a third a little further up the field. The Bermuda Triangle of Wales where all drink disappears. We all had our own bedroom, compulsory sea view and kitchen a straight out of the "1940's" house. Gas lamps and candles littered the rooms, such romance, such plunging in complete darkness to pee up the garden because I wasn't going in that bucket in that stone privy that you had to put grass on afterwards. Within five minutes, I had claimed my own private fuschia bush up the garden sheltered by the green mountain.

I had taken a cook with me, Wendy. In fact, a damn good cook. Smart move eh? We shared with Maggie and Peter who has a laugh like Muttley and similar sense of humour. We staggered around shrieking and laughing most of the time. Maggie and Peter, frightfully organised and experienced produced extra rugs, Marks & Spencer snacks and a "Hello" magazine which I sneered at briefly and then would steal it and read it at every opportunity in my fuschia bush. Next-door was a Belgian fire eater, Anne, then Paddy the insurance broker and Katherine the occupational therapist. On the point of the triangle, Kim, Clinical Specialist and Heather the computer buff handled the island Warden, Peter. That night we went to the point of the triangle and had a barbeque and met some of our fellow islanders. When the most spectacular sunset presented the far shores of Ireland's Wicklow hills and a red sun dipping behind a Celtic cross, we remembered this was the place that Merlin was buried by the enchanting Vivienne and 20,000 saints are buried (so they say) and King Edward 1st visited in 1285.

I hurried back to light the gas storm lamps - my eyebrows grew back in no time. And also to obtain help in getting my sleeping bag out - having a spanking new one, having never been camping in my life. This was evident from the roaring from the others as my bag was apparently like the ones used on Everest Base Camp at 28,000 ft. and slightly over the top. I discovered during the course of the night that any form of movement was impossible without an intense campaign of planning. The language in the darkness of my room as I tried to roll over had nothing to do with saints.

Cereal and long-life milk is good. Peter gathered rainwater and we boiled and stored up spring water in great strong pans. We also walked and read and sketched. Birdspotting and visiting the famous bird observatory was delightful but there was little more thrilling than watching the antics of the seals as they called and squabbled over bits of warm rock as the tides rolled in. The lighthouse was large and empty but the light flicked round over the sea each night. The stars were unbelievable - absolutely stunning and we rolled from house to house in turn to marvel at the amount of water we could boil at once and the herbal flower arrangements in the privies.

One day two, I shared the delights of showering in my bush. I revelation of buckets of steaming water, a saucepan and half a bottle of shampoo and conditioner all in the bright sunshine. I should, however, point out that I did not appreciate at this stage that the mountain behind was often dotted with birdspotters. They had telephoto lenses that would look at your tonsils from Boulogne. Well, they saw more than my tonsils and I hope it didn't put them off their lunch. We didn't know how many were on the island at once but discovered if bikini clad and going down to the beach simply say "Morning boys" to a large hedge and it will answer about six or eight strong.

Time slowed down and then…fell away. The seals ever drew us to their court and the sunsets remained rite of passage experiences. We beached partied. Had a fascinating slide show about the island and enjoyed the not so vast range in the local shop run in a barn and by the farmer without arms' wife. There were on sale 14 pot noodles, toothpaste, some long life milk, a jar of coffee and six tins of peaches. My cook and I bought out their entire tinned peach stock. This was for our rather flash peach crème brulee when it was our turn to cook. We did rather wonder if the stock in the shop was what was left in the cottages by visitors who couldn't be bothered to haul it back. We also wondered what they would be selling left over from us - presumably the flip-flops.

We fell to reading and dozing in the hot, bright sunshine. I wrote poetry - it was unutterable crap as were my sketches but I did enjoy the ghost story night in the ruined abbey where we all held candles and scared the hell out of each other. Heather had brought sparklers and we wrote our names like kids. When we left, there was to be found in our faces the same wistfulness we had seen on the faces of the birdspotters, the day we landed. Bardsey is Spice as it should be. We pioneers were the first and don't forget - if you see flip-flops for sale in the shop you know where they came from.

Lesley Smith, Possessor of Sleeping Bag, Tutbury Castle September 2003

Fort Belan by Karen

Military Jet Aerobatics

Or "bandits at 4 o'clock" by Spice member "Hamilton".

I joined Spice for several reasons, but mainly on the recommendation of a friend, who said they organised some pretty neat events. A quick look at the website confirmed this: "ordinary people who do extraordinary things" seemed a pretty good philosophy. It was with some excitement then that I tore the wrapper off the first months activity brochure. Scanning through it, I wasn't disappointed. And then I got to the entry "military jet aerobatics". Wow! Must be expensive. But no, less than £200. (usually this sort of thing requires trips to Russia and the handing over of thousands of pounds.) And it was a 'real' jet airplane ex RAF. Not only did they train jet-pilots on these, but they were also used by the Red Arrows.

Now, I appreciate that flying in small planes isn't everyone's cup of tea;. But I grew up a few miles from Duxford Aerodrome, and have lost count of the number of sunny afternoons I'd cycled up there to watch the planes. I'd done a bit of flying with the cadets at school, but that was in little propeller planes: THIS, on the other hand, was the Real McCoy. The Real Thing. Needless to say, the cheque was despatched forthwith, and I had to contain myself for several weeks. Now the following might sound shallow, but there's a LOT of kudos to be had at the office water cooler, when the inevitable "so, what have you got planned for the weekend" question rears it's head. "oh, nothing much" is the normal refrain. Not this time. I try to sound as laid back as possible: "oh, I'm going to fly a jet airplane". I think I'm misheard, they ask me where I'm going. "No, I'm really going to be flying it!". The questions come thick and fast, and I try to remember all the details, without sounding too much like the kid who's had all his birthday and Christmas presents in one go.

The drive to the aerodrome takes 3 hours (must check map before signing up for events in future), but doesn't seem like it; and I'm there early! Meet up with the other Spicers, real mix of people, but we're all chatting like best buddies as we wait for the pilot to turn up. Pilot Fast Eddie arrives and asks who wants to go up first; and I'm narrowly beaten into 2nd place. The other pilot and I get fitted for helmets, and Fast Eddie goes thro' the embark/disembark process, pointing out where the 'no step' areas are and explains about 'jet wash' and air-intakes; I try to pay attention but am frankly starting to feel nervous. The airfield is still pretty deserted apart from us, and it's a quiet, grey morning. Then Eddie fires up the engine. We're stood about 15 yards from the plane, and the noise is indescribable. Even tho' I've been to lots of airshows, you're never allowed this close. Eddie swings the plane round to head for the runway, and we all have to turn away as the jetwash blasts away at anything loose. It's as if there are Four thousand Horsemen of the Apocalypse and they're running right over us. The jet taxis 50 yards to the runway, and then the throttle really opens. A few seconds later and it's suddenly a rapidly diminishing dot in the sky. That'll be me soon. The rest of us exchange nervous glances. No going back now! It seems like it had been ages, but he lands, and taxi's back to us. As soon as he stops, I'm over the fence and walking round the front, to where the current 'passenger' is getting out; big grin! Eddie helps me strap in, and as we taxi to the runway asks whether I've done any flying before, and whether I want the 'long' trip or the 'fun' trip. I confess I've done a bit of flying, but not much, and choose the 'fun' trip. Each trip uses the same amount of fuel; the fun trip gets through it in half the time, and is basically the aerobatics routine that Eddie normally gives at airshows. This time, I'll be on the inside. I'm looking at the instruments, and Eddie out of the corner of my eye, as he does the pre-flight checks, then suddenly the throttles are opened and I'm being pushed into the back of the seat.

Takeoff seems almost immediate, and we're soon scything thro' the air at nearly 400mph. It feels incredibly smooth, not at all what I'm expecting. I try to find the 'standard six' instruments: airspeed, compass, altimeter, turn & slip, horizon, fuel gauge?. The radio crackles "so, ready for some fun then?" I try to reply with some grit and determination, but I'm sure my voice just squeaks. We launch into a barrel roll, and the world seems to spin forever. At one point, we're doing a stall turn (where the plane heads straight up until it runs out of puff, and then drops back down; hopefully it's just the plane that stalls, and not the engine! Eddie talks me through it as we head toward the clouds. It feels odd, all the weight on my back, and the horizon 'above' my head. As the reach the apex, the unforgettable feeling of weightlessness washes over;.. and my stomach and my head seem to swap places. It feels like it lasts for ever; but as the plane drops over sideways and backwards, and the horizon passes me at some wholly inappropriate angle, I'm soon pressed back into my seat as Eddie guns the engine and heads for the ground;.. the phrase 'earth rushing towards you' takes on a whole new meaning; it seems to take much longer going down than it did going up, and I'm vaguely aware of the altimeter spinning anti-clockwise like some cartoon clock;. we must pull up soon, surely. Images of "history of jet flight" flash before me, they all seem to involve craters. Eddie hauls back on the stick, and I suddenly feel like a Sumo wrestler, as the g-force pins me to the seat. I try to lift my arms; and struggle. Eddie doesn't mess around. "hey, that's four n half g" he says, grinning. I try to reply, but my cheeks seem to be wrapped around my jaw, and my mouth won't close. He's kept the stick hard back, so the horizon has swung around again, and I'm really not sure which way 'up' is anymore. At some point, the plane rolls again, and this time we come out of the loop upside down. There's something distinctly unnerving about flying upside down; it just doesn't feel 'right'. Eddie lets go of the stick, and we're flying along, upside down, steady as anything;. My brain struggles to make sense of the situation. "do you want a go?" "sure". "ok" (he pushes a half roll round so we're the right way up again) "you have control" "er, right, I have control". I'm holding the stick.

I pull back a little, and the nose rises instantly. A little to the left, and we're arcing thro' the air as if on rails. The plane seems wired directly into my brain; or is it the other way around. Eddies talking to me all the time, I pull back and start a loop. I'm so busy watching everything that I almost miss the horizon sailing over the canopy, I look up just in time, utterly caught up in the moment. This is getting high. I can barely speak. Eddie takes control back and we charge off towards cloudbase again. Moments pass, and he's asking me to do the approach. I find the runway, and he's talking my height down, and I'm pushing the stick forward, but nothing's happening. The runway seemed so far away, but it's getting awful close and we're still too high. Suddenly the plane drops like a stone. I swear. Eddie is grinning (again). I swear (again); he was turning the trim wheel, so as I pushed the stick forward he was making the plane compensate, then he took all the trim out in one go, making us drop;. He takes over, and lands. My head is still in the clouds (as I write this some months later, it's still there). I try to thank Eddie, but am mumbling incoherently. As I get back to the others waiting by the fence, my knees start to go all wobbly and I have to sit down. It feels like I've been in the air ages, but apparently I wasn't up long; Eddie must have been putting his all into the manoeuvres. I'm absolutely buzzing, my hands are shaking, and I can barely talk. It takes me an hour to calm down, and I can barely keep the cup of tea inside.
Eddie chats to us once we've all been up; he must have the constitution of an ox. Apparently, 5 grand would fund private pilots licence training in one of these; and there aren't many people who have a jet pilot licence. So, if I sell my car;. I'm at a party in the evening, and someone asks me what I'd been up to that day. I start to explain, and suddenly realise that everyone is listening to me.
The Spice strapline "ordinary people who do extraordinary things" is no lie. p.s. I realise that flying a jet won't be everyone's idea of fun;. But then, if you don't try, you wont' know;. And there aren't many people who've tried it.

First Training Weekend for Bengal - from Fran

Fran went on the first training weekend for the forthcoming XCL Community Project Expedition to Bengal, India.

What an amazing weekend! It started Saturday march 22nd and finished two brilliant days and one freezing night later. I arrived early not by intention more the result of miscalculation of the surprisingly unimpeded Saturday journey up the M6 from Brum. The first people I met were Di and Dig both smiling friendly faces who put me at ease, before I had time to consider the prospect of the time ahead others had started arriving and I found myself deep in conversation with new people with whom I found I had several things in common. From then on we were taken on a carefully constructed journey to get to know each other and within a few hours we had erected our tents and chosen partners for the night! This was a great relief for me because I seriously didn't know what to expect having heard the word "tepee" I imagined totally communal arrangements including sleeping, so the fact that I turned up at all was an act of faith! But my faith was not in vain because the whole weekend was outstanding, even the overnight temperature of - 2C was compensated for by the enthusiasm, support and encouragement of the group leaders. I was very tired on Sunday but was carried along by my group and felt I achieved things beyond my own expectations and learnt so much more than on any other similar occasion about how to work in and with a team. My apprehension rose when we had to do a presentation about Sikkim and West Bengal and I realised that I had misplaced the information I had brought with me. But hey! Did it matter? Not at all, because the team had plenty on offer and overall it was hilarious like so many other occasions over the two days.
I didn't know XCL existed before I contacted SPICE and received their information pack in late February now I feel the only one holding me back is myself. I said I wanted to do a parachute jump I feel as if I am about to jump.

Gliding at Stratford - from Lavinia

My second event with Spice was WOW! well that's the tame word for oh my god and SH** from the group who attended the gliding event last night. Having the chance to be one of the few to do the second flight with an instructor who has 25 years experience, I was turned upside down, rolled, and saw the ground head on. An experience of a lifetime. Would I do it again - oh YES! The Stratford upon Avon Gliding Club worked really hard to look after us all and we came away with praise for being such a great group of people.

Another excellent event which I can only recommend to all fellow members.
So, in one week I have gone from walking the streets (I better explain that Lavinia's first event was Ian's Lichfield Walk! - Richard) to being upside down in mid air! Thank you SPICE!