Crossing the Atlantic

travessia_atlantico_004.jpg 22nd June, 1989

I craved the solid earth of the island of Fernando de Noronha, the island we had just left behind. How I wished we were still there. Life had seemed so eternal, so indestructible as we walked to the airfield after dining at the island’s only hotel, a former American army barracks. The road had unravelled ahead of us like a grey ribbon lit by a tangible oval moon. A hundred frogs had serenaded us in a raucous chorus from the nearby swamp.

Arm in arm, caressed by the sea breeze, we drew deep breaths of warm tropical air filled with the scent of wild grasses. We lived those moments intensely, one by one, like a Space Shuttle countdown.

The scenario was electrically romantic. But the apprehension of what we were about to do – fly off in a small plane across 1,356 nautical miles of open Atlantic Ocean – quashed any inspiration for a long, passionate kiss which might resemble a desperate farewell…  It was no time for good-byes: we were embarking on the trip of a lifetime, to far off exotic lands.

As long as we made it to the other side…

From the book Freedom of the Skies

Fernando de Noronha Fernando de Noronha Fernando de Noronha

Glimpses of the journey:

Map of route flown around the world

List of Destinations

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