Not Flyable? Party On!

Ha ha, what a day! I’m writing this only semi-sober, so please excuse any and all senselessness.

We all got booted out of bed ½ hour early this morning to shouts of “it’s flyable!” Rushing like mad, and then arriving at launched proved otherwise; it was blown out.

We ended up spending the morning groundhandling in 30 kmph winds – yeesh, not my idea of fun. We then went out for lunch, checked out launch, drove around to another site, waited for the wind to change while playing “the rock game”, then went for drinks. Not very encouraging flying-wise, but hey, I’m a paragliding pilot – this non-flying crap is what I deal with all the time.

Groundhandling aftermath

After drinks we went for dinner to a place where they have giant kabobs of different kinds of meat, and cut you a piece with your approval. At first I was so leery as the whole concept of the restaurant seemed almost barbaric, but it turned out to be cool. We then went back to Lagomar (the cave bar) where we danced the night away.

My British accent is now at a point where I like to use it in a somewhat mocking fashion towards my fellow pilots, which is received by praise and interesting critique. Apparently my accent is South London, with a hint of Kokanee – lovely!

So I’m writing this at 4:00 am – I’m so fucked for tomorrow. God, cut us some slack and let us fly – please!!!

P.S. The beer here tastes like shit. Volcanoes are cool. It is fucking windy here. I like the sound of the ocean. Our rental cars are driven way too recklessly. I saw some bastard hang gliders flying today. I think all Brits are alcoholics. Lanzarote is expensive. I am wasted!!!