Born to be free, born to be wild, born to fly

"Kiwis can't fly" is one of the most widespread statements on the national emblem of New Zealand.Yet, before catching a long haul flight to the edge of the world, I secretly yearn to catch a glimpse of a Kiwi flitting around in one of the mind-blowing sceneries I spotted in the Lord of the Rings.Once on the plane, I start planning a bit so as to make the most of this two-week trip I have been dreaming of for ages. As a rugby lover, New Zealand is a garden of Eden to visit at least once in a lifetime. Surely, the chance to spot a Kiwi flying over the pitch, ball in hand to score a try is far higher in the game season but this time, I want to gaze at a bird flapping its wings in the land of the long white cloud's sky. After a bit of research, I’ve found a flyer advertising for a unique experience: pilot a stunt plane over the Abel Tasman coastline. I guess it's a 'now or never' opportunity to go on a wild-kiwi chase. From up there I'll certainly be able to prove Kiwi can flutter. I'm so boosted by the prospect I omit I've never been behind the wheel of a plane... Never mind, the sky's the limit when achieving one's goal - or so I try to convince myself. Thus, after landing in Nelson on a sunny summer day, I rush out of the airport and drive to Motueka aerodrome all aquiver with anticipation. Fifty minutes later, I leave the peaceful country roads and veer to the shed where Pitts and Vincent are waiting for me. I get a warm welcome and finally meet the plane I am to pilot: the Pitts Special S2A. It may sound a bit technical but it looks like a Candy Crush sweet, painted in red and white with lovely stripes. I bet I can handle that until Vincent, the genuine pilot of us three, explains the details of loopings, cuban eights and rolls; also called aerobatics for those acquainted with the parlance. In Vincent's words it seems easy-peasy but I'm not sure I want to track the national bird any longer. Then there's the little adventurous voice gliding in my thoughts and without conscience I put on the pilot uniform and get on the front row seat ready to take off. In no time we've reach the sky, enjoying a magical bird-eye view of the stunning littoral zone. Vincent reckons it's time for him to rest, so the plane is under my control. It would be hard to describe and even harder to believe but I quite manage and even love it. After a series of all sorts of Top Gun movements in the air, I’m breathless but there's something I know for sure: Kiwis can fly... and so do I!