Thursday, October 11
    The morning is again clear and pleasant. For now, a cool breeze blows in from the mountains and the low morning sun hasn't managed to warm the air on the as yet deserted beach.



    After nine it loading time again, and some of the trucks are even three-tiered this time. Almost ten additional people can fit up on top, above the baggage. I climb the side ladder up and take a strategic position, directly above the driver's cab. I'm protected from falling off the side by a forward-sticking hangglider. World Champion in acrobatic paragliding, Mike Kung shortens the hour-long climb through the serpentines to Babadag by telling of his unbeatable stunts, insisting there's nothing to it. It's "easy going". How easy to believe ...




    Because strong northeast winds are blowing at the 1990 meter, high starting ground, most pilots unpack at the lower start, about 200 elevation meters lower. Just before noon some pilots are finishing turning risers at 3500 meters, in a cloudless sky.




    Due to the strong winds flying at the higher starting ground begins after 12, where wild dust devils and rotating pillars of yellow dust rise skyward on the wind-sheltered sunny side of the crest. The discipline for today's flying is a 20km long route with two turning points.

    A show similar to yesterday's is taking place down on the beach and the tourists almost twist their necks off. In addition to the regular parachutists, a parachutist jumps from the powered hangglider as well.



    For the non-flying public, all this action is exciting and often shocking, and the excitement is fuelled by rhythmic music playing from public loudspeakers and the exacting commentary and exclamations of "ooolalaa" at all the critical points in the action, from the MC.



    From among today's delicacies I choose the grilled corn on the cob, roasted to a dark brown color. It tastes very similar to our fire grilled corn on the cob. The sun beats down so forcefully on the beach today that I have to continuously keep the black body of my camera in my own shadow, lest it become too hot to hold.



    Of the foreign languages heard around us, the most common are German, Italian, French and often Macedonian and Russian. I counted altogether 11 Czech pilots, including, of course, myself and David Bzirsky while not including non-flying wives, girlfriends or mistresses of these pilots. And so as not to forget the promised alibi, some pilots arrived alone. Except for Tony Pallas, Vaclav Motycka, Mirek Pechmann, Hanka Pechmann, Jolana Skopalova and Jarda Sembera, who arrived earlier, the Martins, Kokes and Nemec, are here as well, and they, on the other hand, arrived late due to a technical problem with the Czech Airlines plane. It was unable to take off at the Ruzyne airport in Prague, and the frightened passengers, who had to wait a day, were assured that this time they would be flying with a different plane, not the same one that was simply repaired. Viktor Prochazka arrived on his own today, and as usual with a load of his company's paramotors, and he even managed to demonstrate one on the beach this afternoon. In the evening everyone, as usual, meets in the Cloud 9 bar, and some un-named Czech pilots, tired, turn in by nine.