Lelystad
 
 
We're off to flying school.
Like a rabbit in the headlights. Pure fear.
With all transport in Holland, there's always a traffic-jam.
Finally we're in the air, above those Dutch windmills.
You can almost see the alps.
Down to earth with a first-class window seat.
Time for drinks and stories.
All happy to have survived.
Don't ever get into a plane with Sanne at the wheel. She's out there...
The smell of fear. Dutch flying school.  
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