Martin Buckley follows a trail blazed by female fliers as he continues his hitchhiking adventures in light aircraft
As we flew over Ugandan jungles, I peered down at silver water that still bears the name of a foreign nineteenth-century prince: Lake Albert. East Africa may no longer be coloured pink on the maps, but it’s still littered with reminders of its colonial past.
I was hitching again with the pilots of the Mission Aviation Fellowship, who fly in and out of airstrips no commercial operator will touch. One ‘runway’ of packed, orange dirt doubled as the main road through a village, and before landing the pilot made a low pass to clear it of cattle, cyclists and children.