I've always had a connection with the mountains, as a boy I walked them, later in life I learned to climb, and this took me to many places in the West Coast of Scotland. I was aware of paragliding taking off as a new sport at this time, and after seeing a few gliders flying over Glenshee my imagination was captured. It wasn't until many years later I happened to ask one of my work colleagues what he had been doing at the weekend. When he had replied that he had been paragliding, my excitement was reawakened.

When I asked about him about learning to fly, and he pointed me in the direction of Flying Fever on the Isle of Arran. So I booked a weeks course with Zabdi, and headed over to Arran. I completed my Elementary Pilots licence, and made plans to achieve the Club Pilots licence, that was in June. Over the course of the week Zabdi had mentioned that she planned to take a course in Nepal in the spring of next 2004. I had intended to get my CP and meet her there, to further my flying experience.

Meantime I was immersed in work. Whilst working offshore in October I was surfing the Internet, and visited the Flying Fever website where I noticed that Zab had changed her schedule. Apparently she was to take part in a competition in India, and as Nepal is a close neighbour, she had decided to spend some time there. Recognising this as an opportunity that may not present itself for quite some time, I set about organising my flight tickets, insurance and buying a glider, all though the Internet/email. A few weeks later I was back at home in Aberdeen, and organised to collect my glider, ready for the trip.

I was flying out of Edinburgh, and due to my flight to London being delayed by 3hrs, managed to miss my onward connection to Abu Dhabi. By the time I arrived in Kathmandu and caught the onward flight to Pokhara I was knackered, and at the same time I was relieved. After catching a taxi from Pokhara airport to Sunrise Paragliding in Lakeside, and a relaxing lunch overlooking Phewa Tal, the lake, I met up with Zabdi.

The afternoon was filled with ground handling to familiarise me with my new wing and harness, which I hadn't managed to fly since I bought it. This afternoon also gave me and introduction to the local kids, which through their curiosity, just cannot get close enough to you, or your glider. The next few days were spent taking short hops from Male Patan and Khaun Danda, areas that Sunrise uses for training slopes. This is where we practiced our take off and landing techniques. Or take off and crashing techniques depending on your point of view. These flights were taken in sheltered areas over some very wet paddy fields, needless to say thermic activity was at a minimum.

We quickly progressed on to slightly higher flights from Thore Pani, another site that Sunrise uses for training. Uncongested, but more exposed, with several consistent thermals on the route from top to bottom. Here the training concentrated on trying different exercises in flight, such as big ears, asymmetric collapses and D line steering. "How can I soar with eagles when I fly with crows?" had become a catchphrase within the group, as we struggled to stay within the thermals that we would tend the fly straight out of, almost as soon as we had entered them.

We also concentrated on the finer points of Air law, whilst playing the "turkey game", or so it became known. This consisted of us all pretending to fly our gliders as we walked around the hillside, paying due respect and observing the appropriate rights of way when crossing the paths of other "pilots", inadvertently looking like a bunch of turkeys. Nevertheless, "Airlaw, it's very important", as Adam Hill felt necessary to reiterate to us frequently after the English World Cup victory, and I assume, several San Miguel's.

As per usual, the local kids were showing keen interest in the gliders, and several of the older ones had expressed their desire to try flying one day. The others were happy to earn themselves 20 Rupee's (about 16 pence) by acting as porters, lugging the gliders up to the take off. A few of the kids were smaller than the rucksacks they carried, the larger ones opting to maximise their earning potential by carrying two.

The last day that I had in Pokhara, I decided to fly from Sarangkot, the largest hill overlooking Pewa Tal, and the most popular take off in the area. We made it up to the take off at around 11am, and watched other pilots take off, before laying out my own glider and taking to the sky. Soon I was thermalling up above the take off, with about ten other gliders, and several wild birds of prey. The fear and disconcertment at hitting my first few thermals on the Thore Pani flights, which were unexpectedly violent, throwing you around in the harness, turning to joy and excitement, as you headed skywards. It was an emotional roller coaster of elation and disappointment, from finding a strong thermal to falling out into equally strong sinking air.

The Eagles and Kites were perfect for marking out thermals, as they pass though Nepal on their migratory routes, appearing to enjoy sharing the thermal with gliders as we climbed together. I followed an Eagle as he soared towards the head of a spur, expecting to see him thermal out, only for disappointment to reign when he started flapping his wings. Bugger. I turned around and headed towards a landing area by the lake. I was only in the air for slightly more than an hour, but was mentally drained. A quick cup of buffalo milk tea with Zabdi, and we caught a "water taxi" back to Pokhara.

During the course of the trip I had met some interesting people, and made some good friends. The group we were in worked well together, and I hope to remain in contact with many of them. There were also lots of other pilots around Pokhara always willing to share a beer and a story. Many pilots take off from Sarangkot and make a cross-country flights lasting several hours, over some of the most fantastic scenery there is, with the Annapurna mountain range in the distance behind Sarangkot, and the lake in front. All busses return to Pokhara from the surrounding area as it is the centre of activity in this part of Nepal, and with most people having a grasp of English, communication was never much of a problem. The weather was unbelievably consistent, every day being flyable.

When the time came for me to leave a huge sadness descended over me, and a sense of futility prevailed. Having learned to soar with the eagles, I was to leave it all behind, and return back home to work, knowing that I would not experience free flight quite like that for some time. Already it seems a distant memory, fading from a living reality to a dream. One day I will return, of that I am sure.