The Stampe of approval

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Reporter Gareth McPherson finds it hard to keep his feet on the ground as he joins pilot Michael Parr in his 1946 biplane

Huddled in an open-top cabin in a rickety-looking light aircraft that was just months younger than my dad, meant I wasn’t best impressed when the pilot told me he couldn’t see.

“It’s not a big problem but you have to be careful you don’t hit another plane on the way to the runway,” he said, weaving from side-to-side along the grassy plain of White Waltham Airfield. The meandering, I was assured, was so that he had some idea where the nose of the 1946 Stampe SV4C biplane was heading.

But luckily Michael Parr, the generous pilot from West London Aero Club who offered to send me skywards in his £40,000 pride-and-joy, knew exactly what he was doing.

“I love going to other airfields and meeting people,” he said. “It’s the best way to get around. But as Jeremy Clarkson said when you add everything up you’re paying £200 for a cup of tea. And it’s not something I’d want to stop doing. It’s too much fun.”

Most of us have flown in commercial aircraft. This does not compare. The thrill of speeding along a bumpy runway in a small, vintage but perfectly nippy singleengined plane with air rushing straight past your head is something else.

While I didn’t feel unsafe, thanks to Michael’s calm confidence, my knuckles had turned a whiter shade of pale.

A swooping jerk and we left the runway soaring into the sky at a rate of about 50 knots. A few blustery jolts as we gained height got the blood pumping and nerves wrangling as the speed boosted to 90 knots.

And the reward soon came in the form of a bird’s-eye panoramic view of Berkshire and Buckinghamshire. Reading looked like a Lego village and the rolling greens, browns and yellows of the Buckinghamshire countryside was vast and vibrant.

The joyride took us from White Waltham towards Marlow and Henley before looping around the edge of Reading. “It’s one way to beat the traffic,” said the pilot through my earpiece, as the traffic built up around the borders of Marlow.

Back on firm ground and a few missed heartbeats later Michael, who gave local scout groups rides in his plane in the summer, explained why the hobby was so appealing for him.

“I’ve always loved old machinery and it’s not just planes, I’ve got a prewar BMW sports car,” he said. “I just love the technical aspect of it; checking the dials, considering all the risks and making sure you’re on top of all the machinery. I’m still a relatively new pilot. I’ve only been qualified for two years. But I can’t imagine not doing it.”

My budget airline flight next week with cramped leg room and plastic-tasting tea is rapidly starting to look like a chore.