Or, wishin', hopin', thinkin', and prayin' that the tin can with wings hurtling me through the clouds, bumping and grinding at the mercy of the air pressure, didn't fall out of the sky!
That was my sentiments a couple of months ago, as I returned par avion to Mt Ive for the red dirt and the white salt as backdrop to the new Wish campaign.
And you may already know, I'm not a great passenger in a proper plane, but a prop plane?
That was truly a lesson in bravery for me!
Small enough to not have a toilet on board,
and yet just large enough for any warmth from the heater to not reach the back of the aircraft, where I was sitting.
It gave me pause for thought.... I remembered Dad telling me about what they wore in the Lancaster bombers on their night sorties over an icy Germany. I was shocked to hear they wore four pairs of gloves!
Not so shocked anymore. Over a distinctly milder Australian landscape, during the day, I was an ice-block.
I love the misty valleys...
Texan model, Bay Berger.
Is our pilot lost??
Patchwork near Swan Hill..
Being such a small plane, we had to make a couple of re-fuelling stops...
With Ross, our friendly and (lucky for me, lucky for everyone) very able pilot on the pump.
It was a long journey for Santa, who had flown from Europe that morning. I met him at Sydney airport at 6am, then we drove to Bankstown, got straight on the flight to South Australia, and it took all day to get there.
But we got some great views up there!
Spectacular Lake Gairdner...
The red earth that I love, and perhaps that is the rest of our travelling party down there?
We landed late in the afternoon.
Too late for any shooting, but enough time to have a potter around
That American show, 'Picker Sisters', makes me laugh. I've only seen it a few times, but when I have the chicks always seem to be talking about how their find will make a great wingback chair.
Naturally now, everything I see I call wingback chair...