

Microsoft Flight Simulator Six Year Anniversary Statistics
Wow these are some amazing numbers, and I don’t even know all those airports on the list!


Wow these are some amazing numbers, and I don’t even know all those airports on the list!
Malaysia, early Morning, final approach on Pangkor Airport (PKG). After a long flight from Phuket, I arrived at Pangkor island. The sun just rose during the flight and low hanging fog slowly turned into clouds. The island in front of me offered a beautiful sight, but I haven’t been able to spot the airport until the final moments.
It was laying in a small valley between the mountains, only my instruments reassured me that I’m on the right approach. I was doubting my instruments and was ready to do a go around. Then finally the runway appeared behind another small hill and I had to fly a steep aggressive maneuver to get down in time and bringing my aircraft to a halt. I knew how short the runway was thanks to my flight preparations.
It’s none of my best approaches, but certainly the most scenic one so far. This sim is just beautiful.
Me too, so I created this post on the official wishlist, my request is simple:
>Sort aircraft based on last used time, so that recent aircraft can be easily selected on the “Change aircraft” selection screen.
Since wishlist items need to get enough votes to be considered by the dev team, we have to log in and upvote them in their forum. So your support is highly appreciated.
Fly safe!
We got stuck on a stump with our gator and couldn’t move in any direction anymore. Nothing worked to move him, shooting the cannon, destroying the trees, etc. that was until we decided to nudge it with hellpods. The first one with a support weapon had no effect, but the second one, a laser sentry, has been able to free it from its doomed position.
Unfortunately the Helldivers on the back also got lifted away 😂 but the laser sentry stayed and we had a mobile cannon. Now we need to figure out how many sentries we can place there without destroying it!
Now you know. I thought this is worth sharing! ;)
It's actually quite easy and straight forward, simply throw a G/40-K Melta Mine underneath a warp ship and shoot it to blow it up. The resulting upward blast will cut through the shields and take out the ship.
Keep some safe distance, since the explosion will also set the proximity on fire.
That's all Helldiver, get back to work!
-- Youtube Shorts link: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/h4VQ25xYd8A
Previous post: https://www.reddit.com/r/MSFlightSimulatorPS5/comments/1v8c75r/day_5_cutting_off_the_horn_of_africa_digit/
It’s time to write the final chapter of my Madagascar expedition, and it took me quite some time to come back to it. Even though I completed the journey shortly after writing my previous post, my summer vacation got in the way, and I never found the time to finish the story.
But here we are, and it’s my pleasure to share the final leg of my Diamond Aircraft DA62 journey with you!
As you may remember, last time we landed in Zanzibar (HTZA), and I spent the night doing some sightseeing flights around the island in a rented Airbus H125. It seems that these sightseeing helicopters are available all over the world, at least in my favourite sim, so I regularly rent one whenever I arrive at an interesting location that is better explored in a rotorcraft than in a fixed-wing aircraft.
But more about that in other dedicated posts. Today, we want to continue our journey to Madagascar.
The final leg would be no easy one. I had 896 NM ahead of me, which could be covered in roughly six hours. Of course, it will take longer if I stop somewhere for lunch or simply take a short break from flying.
Most of the route would take me over water, so quickly diverting to a nearby airport would not always be an option. The first section would take me more than 254 NM south towards Tanzania (HTMT), following the east coast of Africa. From there, I would make a sharp turn to the left, heading east towards Madagascar and doing some island-hopping across the Comoros, a volcanic archipelago in the Indian Ocean between northern Mozambique and Madagascar.
It was at that moment that I realised I would soon leave another continent behind me. To be fair, Madagascar is geographically part of Africa, but as an isolated island with its own unique fauna and ecosystems, it feels like a completely different world, disconnected from the mainland.
It was still early for me, although my internal clock was running on Central European time and needed some adjustment to the local time zone. By the time I finally took off, it was already 10 a.m.
My fuel level was also getting quite low, so I filled all the tanks for today’s flight. Zanzibar Airport gave me this strange feeling of being incredibly close to my expedition’s destination. I knew that reaching it would still take the entire day, but standing between all those large airliners, I somehow felt special in my comparatively tiny DA62.
The weather brought only a few clouds, mostly mild winds, and warm temperatures. Humidity was considerably higher than during the previous days, and the landscape had some beautiful shades of green, cyan, and blue.
The coastline in particular featured some lovely reefs, and the wind beneath my wings quickly carried me up to my cruising altitude of 6,000 feet, where the outside air temperature (OAT) was still 11°C.
It did not take long before I reached Tanzania, and I was already thinking about all the places I might have missed during this transit flight. I will certainly return one day to explore Africa in greater detail.
Another benefit of this flight was the almost directly overhead sunlight, which created some beautiful shadows and gave me the opportunity to take more close-up photos of my aircraft. I will share those in a dedicated post as well.
For now, however, it was time to concentrate on my next course adjustment.
I turned smoothly from 172° to 133° under autopilot control. My next destination would be Moroni Airport (FMCH), located on the first major island of the Comoros after another 196 NM of cruising.
As you may have noticed, I did not actually land in Tanzania at HTMT. Instead, I used it as my final backup airport before heading out across the Indian Ocean.
The Comoros archipelago is famous for its perfume production and beautiful beaches, and its location near the northern end of the Mozambique Channel made it the perfect place for an extended lunch stop.
The first island on my route was Grande Comore, home to the capital, Moroni. Its most prominent geographical feature is probably Mount Karthala, an active volcano rising to 2,361 metres, or 7,746 feet, which was clearly above my cruising altitude.
An experienced pilot would obviously have checked the terrain along the route beforehand. I had missed that particular detail. You can therefore imagine my surprise when I emerged from a fairly thick layer of clouds and discovered an island directly ahead of me, with a huge mountain partially hidden inside another layer of clouds.
I immediately checked the terrain display on my MFD. The peak was clearly marked in red and yellow (not good), but my planned flight path passed safely to its left and remained within the green area. There was therefore no need to alter my course (good).
Once I had passed the island, I continued towards Anjouan, which has a lovely little airport, Ouani (FMCV), situated on its northwestern coastline. The airport was no towered, so I flew a manual VFR approach as usual. Its only navigational aid was a NDB (non-directional beacon). Now that is what I call flying like in the old days.
When my wheels touched down on the macadam runway, an old paving method that predates modern asphalt surfaces, I immediately felt like a seafarer dropping anchor on some remote island. Surely the people here would welcome me and offer me something delicious to eat.
The scenery during the approach was certainly among the most beautiful I had encountered on the entire journey, and I genuinely want to visit this island in real life one day.
At around 13:40 local time, I finished lunch and refuelled the aircraft. It was time to concentrate on the final section of my flight plan: crossing towards Nosy Be and then continuing across Madagascar’s northern mountain ranges towards Sambava.
There was not much traffic as I taxied towards the runway. Actually, there was no traffic at all, just a few parked aircraft. I announced my departure over the radio and took off towards the ocean. This was definitely the better option, as the eastern side of the airport was surrounded by high terrain enclosing the bay.
My climb to 6,000 feet was accompanied by a beautiful view over the nearby town of Mutsamudu and Mount Ntringui, the highest mountain on the island. The next airport would be Mayotte (FMCZ), only 64 NM away, followed by Nosy Be (FMNN), another 180 NM farther on.
Nosy Be is a relatively small island directly off the coast of Madagascar, and unlike most of the places on this journey, I had actually been there twice in real life a few years earlier. I immediately recognised the shape of Nosy Be during my arrival. The island is surrounded by numerous smaller islands and features several lakes and volcanic formations.
The sun was already getting quite low, and I started wondering whether I should make another stop here and revisit some of the locations I remembered from my holidays, or continue directly towards Sambava (FMNS), which was only another 124 NM away and could be reached within an hour.
To put this into perspective, my normal cruising speed in the DA62 is around 170 knots. Even with a strong headwind, I would reach my destination without any difficulty.
The only disadvantage was the mountain range I would have to cross. The terrain varied significantly in elevation, but my planned route provided enough clearance.
When I visited Madagascar in real life, we rented a car and travelled from Sambava towards Nosy Be, or at least to the coast, where we then took a boat. That journey took us an entire day because the roads had to wind their way around the mountains of northern Madagascar.
Now, sitting in such a capable aircraft, I could simply fly across them. I calculated that I would arrive at approximately 18:15, so I decided to skip the optional stop at Nosy Be and continue towards Sambava.
And this is where my lack of experience with such long, transcontinental journeys became apparent.
I was now in the Southern Hemisphere, where it was winter, and the days were shorter than my European instincts had expected. Don’t get me wrong, there was certainly no snow, but the sun disappeared much faster than I had anticipated.
By the time I was halfway across the mountains, it was already dark.
More and more clouds appeared ahead of me. They were barely visible outside at night, but the weather information on my MFD gave me a much better picture of what was developing along my route.
I had only ten minutes left to fly when I could finally see the city lights appearing on the horizon. Sambava lies directly on the eastern coastline beside a beautiful bay, with the airport located nearby.
And here came another assumption I had never questioned, despite my virtual private pilot licence and instrument training. I had been to Sambava Airport (FMNS) several times, both in real life and in the simulator, but never landed at night.
In real life, we usually arrived during the day aboard an ATR 72 from Air Madagascar (beautiful turbo prop airliner). It had therefore never occurred to me that the airport might not be equipped for night operations.
The 1,800 x 30 metre concrete runway was pitch-black. There was not a single runway light or other visual reference to guide my approach. The tower cleared me to land anyway, perhaps because I was the only pilot foolish enough to attempt it at that hour.
But what were my alternatives?
The next suitable airports were all some distance away, and I did not know whether any of them would provide better facilities for a night approach. I still had enough fuel to divert somewhere else within range, but after six days of travelling, I desperately wanted to reach my destination.
I therefore decided to overfly the airport first and identify any surrounding landmarks that could provide visual references. Afterwards, I programmed the Garmin for a GPS-supported approach.
Thankfully, the synthetic vision on my PFD provided an additional reference during the approach in the simulator. As I descended through the final part of the approach, my landing lights eventually began illuminating the runway.
Shortly before the flare, I finally had enough visual reference outside and a few moments later, my wheels touched the runway.
After six days of flying, I had arrived.
The ground crew was kind enough to welcome me at my parking position, probably wondering what on earth this pilot was doing there at that time of night.
I updated my flight log one final time, documented the fuel consumed, and recorded the total amount of time I had spent on this expedition.
But those numbers deserve a dedicated post of their own (spreadsheet magic or madness, call it as you like).
For now, I simply want to emphasise how incredible this experience has been.
In my next post, I will share an overview of the statistics and the insights I gained throughout the entire journey. In the meantime, you are welcome to explore the complete flight plan, which I have shared for anyone interested in the individual legs and details:
https://planner.flightsimulator.com/share/6f0d093f-3963-4e02-95c3-0e2c5a2a298e
Fly safe!
I tried to capture the total eclipse in the Microsoft Flight Simulator 2024 on my PS5. First I couldn’t find it and thought it might not be simulated, maybe the moon is just animated in the sky box and not an object which could cast a shadow on earth in the sim.
Luckily I was wrong and Asobo did an exceptional job calculation the sun, earth and moon in the simulation, so that we could actually see the total eclipse unfold.
I had to use the slew mode to get at 100,000ft to take a shot of the moon shadow on the clouds over Iceland. Then I switched to Barcelona where some of my friends were seeing it with their own eyes. Finally I moved to Mallorca, where I had a beautiful final shot of the eclipse during sunset.
I speeded up the videos, to keep it short. As long the 12th August 2026 is available as custom date and time to fly, you can also see it with your own eyes.
Just watched the patch notes and they included some game clips for those who watch them till the end!
https://youtu.be/fpF8gI71Vjo?is=uWuFKClCxHag2mpT
I’m so excited to play tonight 😍
Relates to bug report: https://forums.flightsimulator.com/t/da62-manual-right-engine-start-not-possible-anymore/773256
As a regular DA62 pilot, I know the system and checklists inside out. Since the last MSFS2024 beta patch on the Playstation 5 ( Release Notes - SU6 Beta 1.8.11.0 - August 5, 2026 ) and the fix “Fixed alternators and battery flickering and using a starter”, the right engine isn’t starting manually anymore. It seems like it’s connected to the left engine somehow. When starting at night, you can see the light flickering. Alternators are both on and ECU on auto.
I'm uploading the video here, since the bug forum only allows 20MB attachments.
Holidays here are coming to an end and work is starting again tomorrow. It’s this strange feeling where I know that my daily schedule will quickly return to its routine. This also means that after a long day of work and taking care of the family, Helldivers will be back on the menu as my daily driver before I go to bed.
As a HellDad I always thought you will have more time for gaming during the holidays, but instead we went out, touched some grass and finally had time to visit some places we always wanted to see.
It’s the daily routine where Helldivers fits in so neatly and I’m really looking forward to getting back into the pods with you!
Let’s put the kids to bed and dive! I’m feeling so ready to spread more managed democracy!
Did you ever wonder why your squawk codes never include 8 and 9? The original radar transponder system (Mode A) was designed in the 1950s. It transmits four groups of three binary bits and with three bits you can only count from 0 to 7. Honestly, for me as an IT person who is used to binary and decimal systems, seeing an octal system in use is rather heart warming!
Impressive to see that this system was never changed, it only allows 4096 possible codes this way. Despite the fact that some of the codes are reserved (e.g. 7000 = VFR in Europe / 1200 VFR in USA), what would happen if a single ATC airspace needs to handle more than 4096 aircrafts?
I have spent the last two weeks working on this spreadsheet, but I think I'm finally done and ready to share it.
This spreadsheet's purpose is to give new helldivers effective builds they can use on Super Helldive when they are limited to just Helldivers Mobilize and one other Warbond. There are a lot of builds out there that talk about using equipment from all kinds of different warbonds, but I wanted to make sure players who don't have everything unlocked and don't have the money to afford every warbond can still find use from each individual warbond.
https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1CZr0mtOChZSGI8BemNq9R_fKEIF1taHjdgJVvMNKBuU/edit?usp=sharing
Well I guess VFR is off the table, requesting IFR and flight tracking today. Let’s go!
Previous post: https://www.reddit.com/r/MSFlightSimulatorPS5/comments/1v4bvwp/day_4_a_blue_red_sea_dragon_digit/
Djibouti was my final stop before the Horn of Africa, but I had to make an important decision: should I follow the coastline or cut straight across towards Mogadishu?
It was already the fifth day of our journey, and we had completed roughly three-fifths of the distance to Madagascar. There were only a handful of airports along the coast in this region and no particular landmarks that would justify such a significant detour. Instead, I decided to focus on making substantial progress towards Zanzibar, which seemed like a realistic destination if I got up early and avoided unnecessarily long stops.
To put this into perspective, during the first five days we had flown 3,119 NM of our total planned route of 5,249 NM. Reaching Zanzibar today would bring us to the 4,355 NM milestone, leaving only one more day to reach our destination in Madagascar. Completing this goal within six days would be a great personal achievement.
My route would take me mainly across Ethiopia and then south towards Somalia, a flight of around three and a half hours and well within the DA62’s capabilities. Afterwards, we would follow the coastline along Kenya and Tanzania. Before reaching either of them, we would cross the equator and enter the Southern Hemisphere of our blue marble called Earth.
The weather was perfect. Yesterday’s clouds had cleared, and I expected predictable conditions for the next leg. As usual, I followed my routine: I walked around the aircraft, worked through my checklist, removed all the covers, and climbed aboard.
I still had some fuel remaining from the previous flight, but because I didn't know whether any unexpected detours would become necessary, filling all the tanks seemed like the best choice. It would give me maximum flexibility when adjusting the flight.
So far, my DA62 had shown no significant changes in its starting routine. The FADEC-like-controlled engines started without any difficulty, even in those hot desert conditions. A few moments later, the flaps were set to the takeoff position, and the wheels left the runway of this busy international airport.
Shortly after clearing HDAM’s airspace, the terrain maps on my EFB and MFD helped me select a suitable altitude for crossing the Ahmar Mountains. I planned to cross them near Jigjiga (HAJJ), which was also my next waypoint.
At approximately 5,500 feet, I would have enough altitude to cross the mountains with at least 1,000 feet of clearance. There were no further significant obstacles on the route towards Mogadishu, so I entered 6,500 feet as my cruising altitude in the Garmin and configured the autopilot accordingly.
The landscape around me quickly changed from the African Red Sea coast, to which I had become so accustomed, into a beautiful, sand-coloured painting. Almost-dry rivers cut through the mountain ridges below.
As the ground changed from sand to red soil, only sparse vegetation was visible around the riverbeds. Once I reached higher ground, numerous fields appeared beneath my wings. Compared with the rich green forests and colourful farmland of Europe, this landscape looked almost uninhabitable. Nevertheless, the Horn of Africa has a combined population of around 140 million people, although certainly not all of them live here in its eastern dry regions.
The signs of human settlements and agriculture gradually disappeared. Only long, straight roads sliced through the nearly untouched desert landscape below. For miles and miles, there were no visible signs of human life.
Then, quite suddenly, a small town and an airport with a 2,600 metre concrete runway appeared as I approached Kebri Dahar (HAKD). It was one of my planned waypoints and could have served as a convenient stop if I had needed a break. I did not, so I continued for another 291 NM towards Mogadishu (HCMM), which would take approximately less than two hours.
At this point, I switched on the transfer pumps to ensure that the main tanks did not become too low. The Diamond Aircraft manual recommends transferring fuel when the main tanks reach approximately 15 of their 25 gallons and repeating the procedure when they reach that level again. This helps maintain the correct weight distribution and centre of gravity.
During the final 30 minutes before arrival, my EFB displayed the relevant airport and approach charts. The proposed approach to Runway 05 would have required me to fly across the city and approach from the southwest - how inconvenient for me.
Instead, I checked the weather and wind conditions, which indicated that a safe approach in the opposite direction, onto Runway 23, was also possible. Once I established contact with the tower, I made my request over the radio. They approved it, allowing me to conduct a VFR approach from the northeast.
The city itself was surprisingly flat. After seeing the capitals along the Red Sea, I had expected taller buildings, particularly in the city centre. Instead, there were only a few high-rise buildings of around ten storeys and a beautiful view across the Indian Ocean, which will become the next major body of water that would accompany me throughout the remainder of the journey.
This could easily have been the end of my fifth day. I still had plenty of fuel in reserve and it was only noon. I was eager to reach Zanzibar that evening.
After a two-hour stop and a pleasant lunch, I returned to the airport and topped off the tanks for the final stretch. A warm ocean breeze seemed to be blowing against my face (or at least that was what the instruments suggested). It is still only a simulator, after all.
The landscape below offered many remarkable features. At first, a low layer of clouds obstructed my view, but it soon cleared. Only a few scattered clouds remained, enriching the experience as I continued along the coastline.
The scenery gradually became more colourful, with increasingly dense vegetation, rivers, and forests. I could sense that we were approaching the equator. The landscape was not the only thing changing. My northern latitude coordinates gradually decreased towards zero. After crossing the equator, they began increasing again, this time marked with a southern indicator.
Of course, I already understood how this worked, but watching it happen during the flight was strangely fascinating. It felt a little like observing the clocks adjust automatically when daylight saving time begins or ends. All right, I admit that this probably sounds rather boring.
At one point, a strange, empty line cut through a forest, almost as though someone were preparing to build a highway. Only later, after looking it up, did I realise that this line was actually part of the border between Kenya and Somalia.
More and more islands appeared along the African coast and the timing could not have been better. The setting sun appeared beside the outline of Zanzibar through my cockpit's windows. My timer already showed more than seven and a half hours of flight time that day, and I was beginning to feel tired.
With every 1,000 feet of descent, the sun also sank farther behind the landscape of Tanzania. Reaching the airport felt like a significant achievement, and I knew that I would be spending the night on this famous island.
An airliner landed shortly after me, just as I was clearing the runway, probably carrying tourists beginning their holidays. At that moment, I realised that most of them had probably spent only around 11 hours travelling here from Frankfurt, while I had taken five days.
My journey, however, had been far more memorable. It would certainly become a story worth sharing while visiting one of the island’s famous bars and trying some local rum. After that, I would venture onwards for the final leg of the journey: across the Comoros Islands and towards Madagascar.
Fly safe!
I don’t even know why someone would spent time implementing something like this, but here we go. The little aircraft icon moves over the approach map based on your GPS location. While my auto pilot was flying the perfect path, the icon was offset to the recommended approach path.
Is this an easter egg? Or simply a hidden feature?
In regard to my bug report, I like to share my video here. https://forums.flightsimulator.com/t/h225-won-t-shut-down-and-flies-away-when-exiting/771760
You can’t turn off the H225, I tried auto shutdown as well manually following the checklist.
- turbines in STOP
- fuel switches cut off
- master switch off
- rotor break armed and on
The displays won’t turn off and the rotor keeps on fighting the break. When I exit the aircraft, the break gets loose and it spins up until it takes off without me.
Affected versions are beta current stable releases on PS5.
Previous post https://www.reddit.com/r/MSFlightSimulatorPS5/comments/1v1kpjx/day_3_flying_like_an_egyptian/
The fourth day of my journey would become my longest day of flying so far. More than 1,135 NM awaited me. At an average cruising speed of 150 knots, that would mean more than seven and a half hours of flight time.
Most of the journey would take me from Hurghada International Airport, Egypt (HEGN), across the Red Sea to King Abdulaziz International Airport in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia (OEJN). After touching down on the Asian continent, I would return to Africa via Massawa International Airport, Eritrea (HHMS), before arriving at my final destination: Djibouti–Ambouli International Airport, Djibouti (HDAM).
You might wonder why I chose to cross the Red Sea this way, but I really wanted to set foot on three continents within 24 hours. I therefore got up early in the morning, completed my preflight checklists, and took off.
The Red Sea is very long but not particularly wide, allowing you to see both continents when flying near the middle of it. People say that everything looks better from above, and seeing desert landscapes on both sides with the water below was quite a sight.
By this point, I had gained so much confidence in my aircraft’s reliability that I no longer minded flying for extended periods over water. Until now, I had kept my route as close as possible to the mainland or nearby islands. Today, however, I would spend most of the flight on autopilot, working on my notebook with the computer resting on my lap and enjoying the scenery.
On a side note, working remotely while travelling offers entirely new perspectives. In reality, I had to plan the individual legs so that the takeoffs and landings fitted around my work schedule, allowing me to handle those phases during my breaks.
I had heard stories about pilots falling asleep during long cruises with the autopilot engaged, and staying alert was a genuine challenge. You cannot remain fully focused all the time, and your body and mind naturally need occasional breaks. This is one reason why I usually plan shorter legs that can be completed within one or two hours.
Today was different, and I was not paying full attention to the flight at all times, which was a deliberate decision. I set an alarm to remind me to check my progress while the simulator continued running in the background. This particular leg did not offer much variety. Most of the journey looked exactly the same until I approached my destinations and that was where the flight became really interesting again.
During my approach to King Abdulaziz International Airport, I noticed a large structure along the coast. I was looking at Durrat Al-Arus, a settlement with numerous mansions directly on the waterfront. It reminded me slightly of the coast around Miami (Florida), although it appeared more artificial. This must be where wealthy people spend their holidays or buy properties with their own private beaches.
The airport itself was enormous, with three long runways, but I only made a brief stop. Refuelling was not necessary, although I still wanted to take the opportunity to touch down on the Asian continent, take a quick toilet break, and find something to eat and drink.
In reality, you have to plan such stops carefully. A small aircraft like the DA62 offers plenty of space, but you must still be prepared to make an unexpected stop when human needs require it. That is another reason why I generally prefer shorter legs, they provide regular opportunities to take a break and take care of business.
During my second crossing of the Red Sea, this time towards Massawa International Airport (HHMS), I encountered a large, scattered layer of clouds as I approached the African coastline. The weather was not particularly bad, but I increased my cruising altitude from 8,000 to 12,000 feet to avoid turbulences.
It was interesting to see that most of the clouds had formed on the African side of the coastline. At some point, I would like to research the atmospheric and thermal conditions in this region to better understand this weather pattern.
My stop at HHMS was mainly planned as another short break and an opportunity to refuel. So far, fuel consumption had remained within the expected parameters. I was using a relatively high throttle setting to maintain an engine load of approximately 75%. This resulted in higher fuel consumption than a more economical power setting, but it remained within the aircraft’s normal operating range.
The MFD displays the fuel flow and remaining fuel for each engine. At this point, the fuel flow was 7.9 GPH per engine, with 14 gallons remaining in the left main tank and the same amount in the right. All the auxiliary fuel had already been transferred, since I had skipped refuelling at OEJN.
Since I still had sufficient fuel, I could cruise at a higher speed and reduce the duration of these long legs. It was a trade-off I was willing to accept, especially because neither the cost of the fuel nor the aircraft itself is a constraint in the simulator.
Selecting suitable airports for a journey like this can be difficult. Because of the desert terrain, there are not many airports with asphalt runways and the infrastructure preferred for a relatively delicate aircraft such as the DA62. It can operate from dirt strips, but doing so is not recommended.
From Massawa onwards, I mainly followed the coastline south towards Djibouti (HDAM), covering the final 332 NM over land. This would require another two hours of flight time, although the entire leg could still be completed during daylight.
Provided everything went according to plan, my approach would take place during the golden hour, with the low sun shining over the mountains to the west and long shadows stretching across the landscape.
Djibouti Tower cleared me for an ILS approach to Runway 27. This was the first time I had needed to use the sun visors, as the runway heading pointed almost directly towards the setting sun and made it difficult to see outside.
The airport itself featured a lovely mixture of trees between its runways and taxiways, including several palm trees. They created a pleasant atmosphere and reminded me of Disney’s Aladdin and the Prince of Persia games, good old childhood memories.
Considering that I had never explored the areas around the Red Sea before, this had been a fascinating flight. The next day will take us from Djibouti across the Horn of Africa and down to Mogadishu. If the schedule works out, we will also pass Mombasa and reach Zanzibar in the evening.
Let’s see how it goes in the next post.
Fly safe!
Previous post https://www.reddit.com/r/MSFlightSimulatorPS5/comments/1uxcyfe/day_2_the_greek_mythos_dshi83/
The third day of my journey took me from Crete (LGIR) to Cairo (HEAZ). The sun was shining, and the weather was good. Ahead of me lay a two-and-a-half-hour flight, mainly over the Mediterranean Sea. Provided everything went according to plan, I would be able to continue to Hurghada (HEGN) that evening.
The tanks still held plenty of fuel, so I simply topped off the main tanks for the next leg. All the preflight checks were successful, and the DA62 was still in fantastic condition. Now that I was leaving the European Union and its free-travel area, all my documents had to be in order before arriving in Egypt, the first African country on my journey to Madagascar.
Traffic was busy on Crete. A service van unexpectedly crossed my taxiway, so I had to stop and let it pass before ground control cleared me to proceed to Runway 09. My departure required me to maintain a westerly heading before turning to 124° and flying diagonally toward Cairo.
While planning the route, I had considered flying south first crossing the water and then turning east. However, this would have extended the flight by more than an hour. The aircraft had proven so reliable that I decided to accept the risk and fly directly toward my destination.
Crete has an amazing landscape. The long, narrow island stretches for more than 260 km (or 160 miles) from west to east, while measuring only around 60 km (or 37 miles) at its widest point. Its highest mountains reach more than 2,456 metres (or 8,057 feet). I therefore selected 9,000 feet as my cruising altitude, which required a steep climb at 1,000 ft/min after takeoff once I was clear of the surrounding traffic.
You cannot see the African coast from Crete, not even from an altitude of 9,000 feet. Once I had left the island behind, there was nothing but the sky, the sea, and a few clouds. It took a very long time before I could finally see the coastline appearing on the horizon. It was not that I was afraid of making an emergency landing on the water. I was prepared for it and had practised the procedure in the simulator before. Nevertheless, the solitude of this crossing genuinely surprised me.
My mind is accustomed to European maps when estimating distances and travel times, but the distortion created by familiar map projections produces an interesting bias. Of course, the aircraft provides instruments and three-dimensional maps that allow you to plan a route without relying on a distorted flat map. Even so, the flight felt considerably longer than my monkey brain’s understanding of cartography had expected.
It is always good practice to check how the weather at your destination is developing before beginning your approach. You should also prepare your altimeter setting so that it matches the locally measured air pressure. At HEAZ, the pressure was 29.77 inHg, and the temperature was 35°C, with gentle winds at 6kt from 320°, which sounded like a lovely summer day.
Another important step before approaching an unfamiliar airport I like to recommend is reviewing the available flight charts in your EFB. These allow you to select your preferred approach, choose the correct procedure in your Garmin, and study the airport layout. You should know where to find the airport facilities and have a solid understanding of the taxiways. This becomes especially important when arriving at night.
During my approach to Cairo and Giza, the Nile painted a beautiful green ribbon through an otherwise sandy landscape. From this altitude, the Pyramids of Giza looked tiny. I would certainly visit them later that day, once I had landed, checked my aircraft, and prepared for the next flight.
HEAZ is located in Cairo, close to Cairo International Airport (HECA), so you need to pay particular attention in this traffic-dense airspace. The tower routed me south for an ILS approach to Runway 36, which gave me an opportunity to study the city from a higher altitude. The Pyramids of Giza were visible through my left window, although I had to keep most of my attention on the final approach. It was astonishing to see how many people live in this region. The Greater Cairo metropolitan area has a population of more than 23.5 million people, meaning that roughly one in five Egyptians lives there.
After a late lunch and watching the sunset over Giza, I felt compelled to continue my journey and see the pyramids from the air. It was already dark by the time I returned to the airport, but that was fine. I had committed to completing this expedition in real time, regardless of the weather or lighting conditions.
You might assume that an airport is a relatively safe place for aircraft and that encounters with animals are rare. While this may be true most of the time, pilots must always be prepared for birds crossing the runway during takeoffs and landings. I had studied all the theoretical material required for a private pilot licence and had also completed my instrument-flight training in the simulator. But nothing, however, had prepared me for an Egyptian cow relaxing on the taxiway. In ancient Egyptian culture, these animals were associated with life, love, and motherhood, in other words, this was not an animal I wanted to mess with!
Once I had managed to taxi around this lovely obstacle, it was time to take off again, and my DA62 lifted into the night sky and headed toward Giza. Spotting the pyramids during the daytime had been easy, but finding them at night proved to be a challenge on a whole different level. Their silhouettes were invisible, and they were not illuminated. I therefore had to locate them on the satellite imagery in my EFB, set a direct course toward them, and search for them in the pitch-black night.
They still looked amazing, although I felt slightly disappointed that I had not been able to see them in their full glory during daylight. I circled back toward the airport and considered either staying overnight or continuing farther south to make more progress on my long journey. I checked the next leg to Hurghada (HEGN), which was less than an hour away.
While plotting the route, I realised how close the Suez Canal was to my location. I therefore planned a small detour to visit the famous location where the Ever Given, operated by Evergreen, blocked the entire canal in 2021.
The blockage lasted only 144 hours (or six days) but caused billions of dollars in losses and delays. A compensation settlement of $540 million was eventually reached. Supply chains across Europe felt the effects of the incident as important deliveries failed to arrive on time.
Now it was my turn to follow the canal and the Red Sea southward, eventually bringing me closer to the Horn of Africa.
This post has already become rather lengthy, and I needed to get some sleep anyway.
In case you ever wonder what time it is while flying, there is a small clock displaying UTC in the lower-right corner of the PFD. After leaving Greece, I had to adjust my watch to the local time in Egypt (UTC+3).
Fly safe!