caldrail

I do note however that the gladiator unit in ad64 was probably betrayed by its own officers, who disappeared before the planned attack and that the gladiators were soundly ambushed. My point being they didn't so much lose as got betrayed and slaughtered. It seems being in charge of a unit of slaves was too much of an insult which is conformant to slave units such as those raised by Augustus, who had them made freedmen but not allowed legionary weaponry nor to associate with legionaries. It would seem unlikely that Otho would raise troops as 'regular' auxillaries from the ranks of gladiators but rather as allies under Roman control. Although the effect is more or less the same in the context of an emergency measure to find troops for defense, the Roman class system was not to be ignored, and I'm not aware of any mention of gladiators being sworn in for a term of service with the phrase 'regular' would require.

Partly due to psychology rather than simply better discipline, arms, armour, or other factors the pundits usually suggest when they play Top Trumps: Ancient Armies. I notice the 'effectiveness' in settlement assaults was also down to released anger.

In what respect? Fighter aircraft are exercises in compromise between various factors such as speed, agility,climb rate, firepower, maintenance, durability plus many others. A plane cannot be best at all of them. Let's face it, in terms of charisma, there is no fighter than can match the Spitfire. Heck, we won the Battle of Britain because we had the best looking aeroplane

I think it's generally conceded that Roman soldiers varied in individual capability. I must stress however that stronger discipline and rigorous training was more prevalent during times of conflict. We can see some shocking laziness in peacetime, which was the primary motive for keeping troops busy on civil engineering as much as sword practice or drills. There's no statistical breakdown that I know of concerning the employment of gladiators as trainers. It did happen, but there's no convenient data, and in all probability most gladiators in the camp were nothing more than personal bodyguards and training from them was bound to be more informal and lacklustre.

Barbarian intimidation was not as ineffective as might be imagined. Caesar for instance likes to warble on about his victories but note he gives away clues about fear amongst his men. In particular he recalls having to force standard bearers back into the line, with one threatening him with sharp end of the pole, another simply pushing the standard into Caesars hands and scarpering. The problem with barbarians was that in general they were less organised on the battlefield and prone to intimidation themselves. The fiercest of them must have been formidable men - but note the others only rushed forward behind them. I'm well aware of the comparisons people make these days about ancient and modern - I've spoken against them many times previously and it's a hard ghost to lay to rest. On the one hand it's an odd desire to think of ourselves as somehow following in the empires footsteps and thus laying claim to some measure of military pride from it. On the other, people are reading into Roman organisation what they want and comparisons with contemporary forces have always occurred even when the armed forces fight in no way comparably. There are people who even attempt to reinvent Roman orgnisation. There's a unique facet of male human psychology that likes order. The Romans have this image of being a 'military machine' (even our pages describe them as such in places) and ideas about strength, relentless glory, and supreme power resulting from it resonate with some of our deeper social instincts.

Accepted evidence is not irrefutable. As we know, interpretation is all important and there's been many changes in how we understand Roman history. Sometimes we also face preconception, urban myth, and sensationalism mostly intended for the authors profit rather than educating the world at large. Would you agree?

Brill. I like it when people agree with me

At first glance you would think this was a summers day, The sky is blue, the sun is shining. It just doesn't feel warm though. There's an uncomfortable chill in the air which is quite unseasonal. Of course this good weather only arrived earlier, as I notice the ground was damp from overnight rain. There are of course other things putting a damper on todays fine weather. You might describe it as doom and gloom, at least potentially. Firstly there's an increase in energy bills coming our way again, just in time for winter. Hot water is becoming something of a luxury for me. Might have to invest in some thermals. But it won't make any difference because the gas company will still charge me nearly as much claiming it's the fee they require for ensuring the gas is connected. And it gets worse. Now the government are seeking savings from councils, probably to pay for the policemen they can't make redundant after those riots caused a political furore, which means that like around 16,000 other recipients of Council Tax Benefit, I might be facing extra bills this year. If the rioters or burglars don't get you, the council will. With a bit of luck I'll have enough left to eat. I've been living on sandwiches this past week as it is. Oh yeah... I forgot... Food prices are rising. Think About It I see IBM are claiming they've invented a computer chip that learns for itself. That's just great. Next year all cars will be fitted with back seat drivers that really will know better than you. And instead of just not doing what you want in dumb insolence, your desktop computer will be able to tell you what an ignoramus you are. I can't even begin to tell you what I think those 'android' powered smart phones will be capable of. As an advance in technology it is fantastic. But, inexorably, we human beings strive to prove that science fiction was right all along. You don't believe me? Think about it. A machine does what we design or program it to do. Doom And Gloom of the Week Of course if I get a job all my prayers will be answered. That's what they tell me, though I do wonder if I might find my bills increase as well as my earnings. No matter, the government want me to work for a living so once again I trawl through the vacancy lists for something to get rejected for. "We found this vacancy for you" My advisor told me, shoving a piece of paper under my nose that has no contact information on it whatsoever. "Can you do that job?" What? Manual labour in a warehouse? Good grief I've had seventeen years of warehousing ranging from sweeping the floors to running the premises. I think I can manage a few more years of it. Hardly a challenge there. Well, I got the reply from the recruitment agency the other day. Not enough experience.

The kudos gained by politicians with respect to chariot racing was definitely one of association. Politician benefit from social networking within the factions supporters by 'being part of the club'. Also, he might have the winning charioteer nearby in social situations, creating an odd situation by modern standards where a man of senior standing in the community is hanging around a celebrity slave (or at least making it look the other way around).

I'm afraid you're guessing. Had you asked, you would have discovered my information came from the works of Peter Donnelley and that I wasn't referring to decorative brow ridges (which aren't necessarily decorative at all, but designed to prevent blades slipping down across the face or prevent water from doing the same in inclement weather). If you like I'll enquire further with other sources but I don't expect any significant variations - I have after all seen photographs of the helmet concerned.

The use of ribbed helmets predates Trajan's reign and we can't ascribe it to a result of his dacian campaigns. Furthermore, it's likely that whilst the ribs may have had some beneficial resistance to weapon strikes, it was more to do with manufacturing techniques than defensive design since the Romans had used the gallic-style helmet for some time and had not shown any dissatisfaction with it. Given the traditional conservatism of Roman culture, the slow pace of change in arms and armour, the general spread of the 'ribbed' helmet along the germanic frontier from the m id 1st century, I cannot see any real reaction to the dacian falx however effective it might have actually been.

There's a lot of nuclear weapons out there. That probably won't suprise anyone, but so far, according to a documentary I saw last night, there are at least 23,000 warheads out there and probably more unaccounted for. America, Russia, Britain, France, Israel, China, India, Pakistan, and North Korea are countries known to have them. South Africa briefly built three before deciding such weapons weren't desirable, opting out of the big league by disassembling them. It's a chilling thought isn't it? Of course the documentary made a meal of it, scaring their viewers with advice from ex-CIA agents about the difficulties of stopping nuclear proliferation on the black market. There's nothing new in this threat of random destruction. I grew up during the Cold War with both sides ready to launch within minutes of the other making the wrong move. it so nearly happened. The 1961 Cuba missile crisis for instance, when both sides stared each other in the face. There was a moment in the 70's when a technical fault convinced senior russian officers that a first strike was in progress against them. A lowly lieutenant managed to restore commonsense before the soviets mistakenly responded in full. During the 90's the soviets wwere advised of a mundane missile launch off Norway by the Americans, and because the message hadn't reached the Kremlin, senior officers marched into Boris Yeltsins office asking for permission to respond. As it happened, this was a day when Yeltsin wasn't drunk. Finally, a failure of a small microchip caused the Americans to prepare for a retaliation strike. Mutally assured destruction was within minutes of actually happening. As if improvied explosive devices in afghanistan weren't enough of a worry. Al Qaeda have stated their intention to kill four million americans to 'even the score'. We used to say in the 80's how mad this all was. Where's the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament now? CND made a huge fuss back then, but why aren't they telling rogue countries and religious nutcases that nuclear weapons aren't as good as woolly hats and songs around a camp fire? Big Collisions I've seen the latest Hubble photographs of a pair of galaxies about to collide - or rather, about to collide 450 million years ago, because that's how long the light has taken to reach us. The same thing will happen to our galaxy eventually since Andromeda is speeding toward us. Don't hold your breath though. Might be a few billion years before both galaxies begin to coalesce. Nevertheless, that gives us time to organise efforts to prevent this calamity. So stock up on tents, gas stoves, woolly clothes, and join the Campaign for Galactic Avoidance. Stop this madness now! Protest of the Week Talking about daft protests, it seems the civil rights brigade have decided that sentences handed out to rioters in the wake of disorder in Britain more than a week ago are too severe. It seems these poor helpless rioters are being given draconian sentences for a little bit of fun here and there. Yes. I know. Hanging's too good for them. I've heard the expected calls for National Service to be brought back, and even some suggestions of adopting the american 'three strikes and you're out' rules, which is ordinarily unthinkable in kind caring britain. You know what? I don't care what happens to these louts and looters. They can moan about how bad society is toward them, but if they can't get on with society and observe its laws, what in the name of all that's sensible do they expect? I don't suppose Australia is still open for business, is it? Can you imagine Mad Max in british yoof style? Look, those survivalists have got petrol! Wicked! Lets joyride our stolen cars around their camp!

I haven't come across this interesting anecdote before. Trajan's column shows troops in conventional lorica segmentata although I have to admit that you must allow some artistic license from the masons who carved the reliefs. I don't know if the Roman armour was especially vulnerable to dacian weaponry. There's no obvious reason for that. However, we are told by the Romans that in imperial times a legionary swung his sword as much as thrusted with it. Now whilst the gladius was a little shorter by Trajans day, this mode of fighting would still require a looser formation, or the legionaries are going to be smacking their colleagues as well. A swing requires room which the traditional close order drill does not allow for. If the story is true, then possibly the dacian falx was better able to cope with Roman armour not because of any particular inherent weakness in design, but rather that the employment of the armour was exposed by open order fighting and therefore did not protect the soldier in the same way as a tight formation would allow. However - I would hazard a guess that Roman style chainmail was not that much more protective than banded metal plates overall. There might be other reasons.

"Ahhh... Caldrail... We meet again." Miss R always smiles when it's time for me to be interviewed. There's always a plastic ruler on her desk. "We've got you a vacancy to apply for." It's hard to be enthusiastic. Not because I have to find work, but because I've already found 25 suitable vacancies under my own steam since we last spoke. I have to smile and accept it though. Applying for this extra one is mandatory under the new rules. I read the information sheet and as it happens, the job was more or less something I could do without much worry. There's no problem with that. "Have you given any thought to what you want to do?" She asked me. Now there's a question. I know the government is keen on getting unemployed people back to work, but worrying about career prospects at my age seems a little futile. I might only have another twenty years. "You might might die tomorrow." She corrected me. Heck. I hadn't figured on my lifespan being that short. Found dead with ruler marks all over me? I can see the headlines now. There'll be paperback books printed for decades discussing the mystery plastic ruler death of Swindon 2011. I held the information sheet up. Shall I wait another day before applying for this? Big Brother Rules Just when you thought it was safe to back to the television we find another series of Big Brother is coming our way. They've built a new house for the new series and brought in some presenter to replace that other woman. Can't remember her name. She did some beauty product advertising. I think I might have better things to do than watch idiots try to recreate human social behaviour from scratch. I can see that sort of thing outside my front window any day of the week. Thanks, Jeremy! Top gear is proving a fertile source of controversy. A mole at the BBC has suggested that professional drivers do all their filming with the presenters doing the chatty bits inside the cockpit seperately. In the news is Jeremy Clarkson's dismissal of those accusations and understandably he's a tad irate about the idea that the presenters can't drive. Interestingly though Mr Clarkson has laid down a challenge, saying that if anyone doesn't believe that he drives Lamborghini's at 207mph then they can come along and see for themselves. Bring a sickbag, he writes. Yeah? Really? All right then. Mr Clarkson can't drive Lamborghini's. There. Accusation made. I await my invitation to Dunsfold. Hey, I don't make the rules. Or do I? The Rule Of Caldrail Sometimes people think I take myself too seriously. Clearly they haven't read this blog then. Thing is though I'm finding life a bit spooky. In the wake of the riots Britain suffered a week ago, politicians keep on suggesting policies suggested by me. That leads me to some shocking conclusions. Firstly that politicians in our country are so desperate for ideas that they're using my blog as source of ideas, and secondly, that I'm almost running the country from the back seat. So, in order to prove this hypothesis, I hereby suggest to the government of the United Kingdom that schools take on a community role in shaping the behaviour of our young people. Now sit back and wait for an announcement at a press conference by a senior politician.... Any moment now....

How could any sane mortal resist a weekend of sword & sorcery on television? Furry underwear and long hair. Incredibly pathetic villains and the violent comedians who thwart their evil schemes. A part of me has some masochistic enjoyment of the genre. The rest of me cringes at the sheer awfulness of the films that portray these invented worlds. Okay, there are one or two that aren't so bad. Armie's Conan The Barbarian retains a sort of immature exuberance. I still watch Red Sonja for it's visual uniqueness and triumph of energy over talent. Actually, in both films, it's the humour they get right. Having struggled with Kevin Sorbo's easy going one-liners in Kull The Conqueror, almost like James Bond with a long sword, it really was a pleasant suprise to watch Brigitte Nielson submit to Arnie (oh come on, we all knew she was going to...) My regard for those films probably results from an involvement in role playing games since I was a teenager. Sadly Brigitte Nielsen didn't submit to any of us and of I were honest, didn't turn up to a session at all, never mind in furry swimwear. Yes. I too played Dungeons & Dragons. Shame on anyone who hasn't. All The Table's A Stage I sort of stumbled across role playing games when I saw some odds and ends my friends left lying around. What's that? D&D? For some reason or other I found myself running games as a referee from the start. Erm... What am I supposed to do?...Without understanding anything about the finer art of saving throws and armour class, I clumsily began by describing that first chamber among many. I ended up building entire worlds. Only a select handful of people have ever visited Goddomir, the fantasy world I put together. As a referee I had the luxury of acting the part of everyone the players encountered. Of course it's been a long time since I've taken to that informal stage around the table and played these characters to an audience. They've become long lost friends in a way. I remember them well. Okay, I'm done. Believe This Some people seem to think that D&D or other similar games are some sort of secret demon worshipping cult. Pardon me? A bunch of friends gather for an evening of dealing deadly retribution to evil, greed, and self aggrandisement. Certainly no worse than christianity, is it? Also on the 'hard tio believe' list was the news that a hypersonic test plane crashed into the pacific. Apparently this modest little racer does 22 times the speed of airliners, although in this case, only when pointed vertically downward. Claiming we can get to Australia in an hour aboard a passenger carrying version leaves me with a bit of a worry. Clearly half the delay in getting to foreign destinations is getting stuck in holding patterns whilst the queue of arriving airliners waits for a turn on the runway. Not any more. Back to the drawing board guys. Also going back to the drawing board are Walkers Crisps, who have dropped footballer Gary Lineker from their advertising. In the beginning his unquenchable hunger and greed for Walkers Crisps was almost amusing, but once he sang on television, I knew it would all end in tears. After pushing Lionel Richie through a plate glass window too. Perhaps the only reason to board a hypersonic jet would be to snatch a crisp from Gary Lineker and make your escape. Now there's no need to plunge headlong into the pacific. He's been ditched in an effort to save mankind after sixteen years playing Gary The Unavoidable. Sixteen years? No way! Finally our revered leader is rallying troops for the counterattack on teenage gangs. Not before time I have to say, though there are other targets that should be considered, such as the rotten little scoundrel who's been trying to burgle my flat. You can see his nicotine stains on the front door where he's been pressing his weight against it. I know that you see, because despite the attempted diagnosis of my doctor, I don't smoke. An englishmans home is his castle. The temptation to draw swords and defend it is pretty strong right now. What about that, Mr Cameron? Are you going to get tough with the looters that aren't rioting?

it is interesting. The Romans and their imperialism is unfashionable, partly because we now stress the disregard for eco-systems and the bloodier side of Roman culture, whereas a hundred years ago or more we thought highly of classical culture and stressed the civic and literary side of things. We're more concerned with the impact of society on our surroundings and so we judge the Romans by the same light. Then of course we're recently re-evaluated celtic culture in the wake of neo-paganism, and thuis 'rediscovery' has been catered to by improvements in archaeology, media, and the desire to find alternative roots. There were swings and roundabouts with each cultural migration. The Romans had a rapacious exploitative streak (there you go, I'm bashing the Romans), but for me one of the most enlightening sources is part of a letter sent by Cicero. From my brother's letter I gather surprising indications of C

There's a curious thing about that - on television, the student is whooping and telling everyone how fantastic it is. In reality, he's silent, because as a neophyte the business of flying keeps him too busy. In the last series of The Apprentice, the winners of a round were given flying lessons and I remember one of the women was screaming like she was on a fairground ride. Boy, did that instructor struggle to grin. One point about getting lessons. Flying clubs vary in their policy and some will attempt from the start to sign you up for a full course of 50 hours flying right there and then. Others are more open to negotiation and willing to give a one-off instructional flight. What none of them will do is give a joyride, because that's commercial flying which they're not licensed or qualified for. But them the whole point is to fly for real isn't it?

I presume the mosaic is imperial in origin>? There's a difference in the animal trade between mid republic and early empire. It goes from one where animals are deliberately targeted, trapped, or traded by happy coincidence, to one where an established logistical network was supplying animals whether a performance was scheduled or not. In later times, people trapped animals and sold them because they knew there was a market. One legion even boasted of ursarii, soldiers that trapped bears for a lucrative income, obviously with official patronage from their officers. At Ostia, the pavements have animals marked on them, telling customers where agents for those partioular beats could be found, and zoo's were assembled near Rome to house animals before they were required. In the latter case we have an organised network that would no doubt have benefitted from Roman expertise in logistics, thus the costs would have varied and in some ways have been cheaper than 60BC for that very reason, although as the supply of animals has to extend further and further as populations are depleted, the costs inevitably rise again. This is one reason for the decline in animal hunts for the arena.

That depends. Typically barbarian tribes in western europe used intimidation as a primary tactic, yelling, rushing forward swinging a sword with wild abandon, and melees tended toward masses of both sides standing apart with little actions going on here and there as the barbarians surged forward again when the braver souls decided to go for it. The Romans of course would try to maintain formation and silence. As such, an intent to 'break' the enemy formation wasn't the point. Breaking his morale certainly was. The barbarians wanted you to run away for your lives. I doubt they actually preferred a slaughter - that wasn't the way they thought. Eastern tribes, whether mounted or on foot, preferred to wither their opponent down to size before making any confrontation face to face. That is of course a general observation and you will find exceptions in behaviour.

Events were held in any public space depending on the scale of it. The supply of beasts is not necessarily clear cut. Although we see a variety of beats mentioned in sources, this was usually when the animals were first pushed in front of the public. Some of the species we regard as staples of the arena hunts weren't introduced until after 60BC. Since many of these creatures were supplied from very distant llands, the hiring of trappers would have been done via proxy. Also, since it was never certain what animals were available, event organisers must have been obliged to take what they could get. Remember that shipping the animals to Rome would have involved the loss of some of them, either through poor treatment, the shock and deprivation of captivity, or simply because a ship was lost at sea. It's believed that one vessel was sunk because the elephants they were carrying got upset and broke loose. Therefore anyone paying for the importation of animals was taking a risk, and since the regular supply of species was a feature of early imperial Rome, there were no guanrantees of getting what you asked for in 60BC. The phrase bestiarius means 'animal man'. Strictly speaking this was a class of fighter who tackled animals in the arena one on one, thus he was regarded as a lowly competitor because he wasn't honoured with fighting another man, though his courage at facing an irate animal head on, sometimes without weaponry, was certainly worthy of entertainment. There is a claim that one bestiariius was able to defeat bears by thrusting his arm into their throats (?!!!!!). I do see repeated mentions of bestiarii in other guises, such as animal handlers. I think the troubkle there is that the latin phrase is less specific than we usually think of and in fact covers a number of arena vocations dealing with animals. That would infer that a fighter of animals wasn't worthy of a specific vocational title, as opposed to the better regarded venator who 'hunted' animals in the arena from a position of mastery over them. Since the Roman sources aren't detailed in describing the handling of animals for the arena, it's hard to tell. Currently I prefer to think that bestarii referred to 'animal experts' whether they actually fought them or herded them - I suspect that was the sense the Romans used the word as well.

I always encourage people to try it at least once. Not everyone gets a buzz out of it, as I don't with sailing, but none of my passengers ever got out at the end of a flight and said they hadn't gotten anything from the experience.

There is a link, although one more subtle than the direct sponsorship of games as we observe in the development of munerae. Chariot racing was quite an old Roman pastime. There's some confusion between this and horse-back racing, especially when dealing with legends of Rome's origins. Anyway, the chariot races were a popular adjunct to certain festivals that took place every year. These festivals grew in scope and number during the 3rd century BC, and certainly by the 1st century BC, there are established rivalries between chariot racing factions. This is where politcs comes in. Whereas chariot races weren't normally staged by direct sponsorship, having an even stronger religious theme than gladiatorial contests, the powerful politicians might gain kudos by their support of a certain faction, a practice that continued into imperial times.

The germans did develope some stealth technology with u-boats, such as rubber honeycomb coating to offset sonar reflections, and so forth. Nothing hugely amazing but given how effective the allies anti-submarine warfare was from the mid-war onward, any hope of slipping past was worth trying. Regarding the Ho-229. The stealth qualities were coincidental, since the aircraft was based on experimental gliders built before WW2 by the same designers. As a flying platform, I would hazard a guess that directional stability was a problem, and quite how you'd recover from a spin is beyond me. Regarding the Bf-109. That was a private venture by Willy Messerschmitt and intended to propel his aviation company into the big contract league by providing Germany's next front-line fighter. He brought together several advances in aerodynamics and also used experience with the Bf108 Taifun, a four seat low wing monoplane that had performed well in prewar aerial contests. Since Germany in 1936 was becoming an aggressor state, there was no requirement for a 'defence fighter', although the later models were adapted for this role as the war turned. There's a lot of bunkum said about German military research in the closing period of the war. Most of these aeroplane designs were no more than fanciful sketches, ideas, or suggestions. What we notice is that radical redesign usually occured once an idea was put into a wind tunnel. It is true that aircraft designers of the late war were an imaginative lot, but we must also note that despite some intriguing technological systems that were tested or put into service, the Germans struggled to make them a success.

I did wonder if that point was going to come up. I agree our modern virtual violence is essentially reconstructed, rather like some choreographed ballet, and I also agree that gladiators fought for real with sharp pointy things, and that monuments do list a number od deceased gladiators who found that out. However, let's make clear a distinction here. They weren't trying to hurt each other per se, but fighting to please their master and achioeve that elusive victory. It wasn't warfare, it was competition. Admittedly it could get pretty deadly out there but bear in ind the rules they fought by, the close attebntion of the referee, and the demands of the audience. These are things that don't apply to warfare.

Once I've finished my chores for the day the world is my oyster. A small one if I'm honest, but that's the trouble with living on benefits. So with an afternoon to kill, what should I do? Something creative? Prose, artwork, or music? You have to be in that mood. Play computer games? I just don't feel the inclination. Yes, you guessed it, I decided to watch television. Why, I don't know, I just sort of felt that way. Finally I settled on a channel called Quest. They occaisionally show some interesting programmes you wouldn't normally find elsewhere (You might want to guess why) but who could resist a program called A Plane Is Born? Not me. My passion for aeroplanes knows no limits and once aroused, I sat back in my seat, opened a can of drink, and vegetated for all I'm worth. The program follows a presenter's efforts to learn to fly and build his own aeroplane from a kit. Now that takes me back to those heady days in the nineties when flying was a reality for me. In my younger days I wanted to build my own aeroplane and I even naively designed one, at least as far as I was able to before I learned engineering at college. I watched the presenter cope with his first flying lessons. Does he know anything else to say except "Amazing!"? Foir me learning to fly was not a new experience. I'd flown in aeroplanes as an air cadet, including hands on control, mostly in De Havilland Chipmunks but also Slingsby Venture motor gliders. At a time when the dominant lads at school thought they were cool riding their very first noisy little moped, I was buzzing overhead in a military trainer. So for me learning to fly began with dusting off those teenage cobwebs. I learned to fly in a Cessna 150, an aeroplane lacking glamour and excitement, but one that was sturdy and even dependable most of the time. I don't ever remember saying "Amazing!" myself though I did smile in between getting told off for doing something dumb..Make no mistake, flying an aeroplane is a busy activity and not until you accumulate skill and experience does it all become second nature. I never did get the point of building an aeroplane. Membership of the Popular Flying Association, essential for correct inspection and certification of your project, taught me what I might be letting myself in for. Truth was, I could never afford it and had nowhere to complete my dream aeroplane. So I rented Cessna 150's instead. However, I did get to say "Amazing!". For that, I spent a total of five and a half hours flying a Beagle Pup Series 2, with the larger 150hp engine. Sweet. And after flying mostly bog basic trainers, it was pretty amazing. There you go. My Worst Ever Flying Nightmare It wasn't always amazing. Flying can sometimes throw problems at you that you didn't expect, and however difficult or frustrating it gets, you have no choiuce but to deal with it. Once, it was a nightmare. This happened when I was an air cadet on a gliding course at South Cerney. It was a no-win situation. I was being tested to destruction. That was my first experience ever of a stern military style instructor and I was gradually losing reach of my objective, a long glide back to the field, and worse still, my confidence that I could have done it without that withering disapproval from the right hand seat. That was the last time I flew motor gliders. My Bestest Ever Flying Experience Sometimes, when I didn't have to worry about whether an air traffic controller wanted to kill me, or worry about whether the British weather was plotting to kill me, or whether my flying was going to kill me, I got this feeling of... Well... I'm not sure how to describe it. There's an elation that you're flying, defying gravity, completely in charge of your own destiny, at liberty to travel anywhere you want, and despite the engine and propellor making a right old racket in front of you, you feel completely at ease. Peaceful. Content. Nothing, not even completing your stamp collection, relaxing after great sex with an attractive woman, or showing the world how a sports car should be driven, nothing else in the entire world makes you feel like that. Amazing.