Aeroplane

Luca. In Italy is a name. In Croatia it is a sea port. Out side Mexico city it is a small private air port. piloteboy gave some pass and a barrier was lifted to alow us in. The tank is full sir, chirrped the man who had brought the plane out the garage and reddied it for a sprigtley frolock, than drowe off to park the car.

I had fantasised and wanted the mexican to come rescue me from the prison of Monterrey with this plane, picking me up preferably in flight, using rope or harness to which I would have thrown my self at from the roof of the building.

Only the English are that romantic, I have since realised, and actually I was none the less excited about going to pilote a plane for the first time in the company of an extrodinariley handsome pilote. The frech-mexican had recived specific instructions to look after me, during my stay, from his cousin and my firend in Rome. He had done his best lifing my spirits with playful corrispondance troughout the tribulations of the Moteray exhibition and now that I was back in Mexico city the only thing standing in our way to the sky was his, fear that I, would be frightened.

Since mother had bought me the first toy plane, and seeing father took me for his coffees to the airport when I was a child, I had always wanted to fly a plane and just waited for the right moment for it to happen, and there eventualy it had, I was stranded with the most handsome man who was set on teaching me to fly.

. We reported our flight. Drowe the little 1945 design polish war plane on to the piste. And took off into the sky

Pilote boy used french and Spanish to show me what the different controls do, buttons mean, making it all sound so dream like,and once we where in the sky he handed me the joystick.

Flying a plane is a bit like driwing a game-boy tractor and being a bird at the same time. There was the sky everywhere, hammering of the engine in the eardrums and vibrating trough me, his perfect white smile and fat pink lips, floated in the cockpit like a Dali sculpture and a sootihng female voice of the air traffic contorl took us trough the air pockets. It was an adrenalin filled reverie for as the plane dowe or span I would for seconds loose consciousness, he would take the rein agian , my tummy would turn, the G force was stronger than anything I had encountered before, and pilotboy kept pushing me to soar, dive until I gained confidence and could coordinate the flight and simultaniousley mointor the instruments.

We flew ower the Teotihuacan pyramids, ower forests and prairies, I saw that Mexico city lies in fact on a hill above long stretches of flat lands, which explained the clouds on it and afternoon storms. In fact had it not been for the storm we where going to fly to the beach and above a ranch of zebras as he had originally proposed.

I would love his mother he promised. His french mother lives in Guatemala half the year, and when she becomes bored she gets out her helicopter and flies it above the ocean close to the waves loving the thrill of her life in danger as the waves could at any point bring her down or salt could rust the engine and make her crash. Pilote boy also was a pilote out of love he did something much more boring for his day job like build cities.

I loved flying, and there is something irresistable about a man who teaches a girl new skills.Are men as attracted to the girl eager to learn the skills he wants to teach? Two hours flew by like seconds. Pilot boy landed the plane back in Luca. Unoticed he flinched my mexican visa card becosue of photograph without which I got stuck in the airport for a day and almost ended up not returing to Europe. Had I had not planed an exhibition in Venice the folowing month, I would not have used tears at the customs to get on a now less satisfying commercial plane.

But the exibition thing was stronger than me, I embarked a plane, got out back in Rome where Fiumicino was the name of the airport and Luca was the name to another series of events.