Fly on, or what?
The course of duty sometimes brings me to strange places. In this case Aurillac, the existance of which I had no preceding awareness. Initially only as a intermediate hop between Castres, where I did the stuff I do for a living, and Paris. Unfortunately, a few moments after landing a fireman arrived, and looking upward to the plane with this weary look. This, initially, was not abnormal. French fireman look after everything, and on these tiny airfields it isn't thst surprising they take care of security. However, this guy kept looking, with a face that looked grimmer every minute. After a while, he disappeared, only to returned with a collegue who also had this knowing look. Next, the pilot's compartment opened up, and two unhappy looking pilots came out. One of them appeared eventually next to the fireman. A small discussion ensued.
*** result*** four hours later, after all sandwiches were finished, a roar announced the arrival of another ATR 42 which brought us to Paris. The original craft remained on the tarmac with ladders and worried looking technicians all over it. I still wonder what happened...
Fly on, or what?
The course of duty sometimes brings me to strange places. In this case Aurillac, the existance of which I had no preceding awareness. Initially only as a intermediate hop between Castres, where I did the stuff I do for a living, and Paris. Unfortunately, a few moments after landing a fireman arrived, and looking upward to the plane with this weary look. This, initially, was not abnormal. French fireman look after everything, and on these tiny airfields it isn't thst surprising they take care of security. However, this guy kept looking, with a face that looked grimmer every minute. After a while, he disappeared, only to returned with a collegue who also had this knowing look. Next, the pilot's compartment opened up, and two unhappy looking pilots came out. One of them appeared eventually next to the fireman. A small discussion ensued.
*** result*** four hours later, after all sandwiches were finished, a roar announced the arrival of another ATR 42 which brought us to Paris. The original craft remained on the tarmac with ladders and worried looking technicians all over it. I still wonder what happened...