The issue with airports in Europe has been a cumulative problem since my arrival. While I had an initial burst of enthusiasm (delusion) in Germany, the situation calcified in Spain with a near phobia of airport chaos, such that I didn’t land outside of my base airport for over six months. Eventually, I snapped out of it and settled into a middle ground.

As previously described, the problem resurfaced in Switzerland. Ironically in this case, my first forays here were met with a similar enthusiasm, where I landed at a few technically challenging locales. I was so starstruck with the Alps that I was willing to dive in and figure things out as I went. That lasted for a while, until a combination of COVID and calcification of the mind caused the problem to come back.

Sure, a slow plane with one tank coupled with legitimate extra steps for airport visits in Europe does contribute to the problem. The other is a sort of mindset that creeps in imperceptibly, where it becomes simply easier not to. While there are plenty of places to visit in a reasonably short range, over and over a line of reasoning developed: why go to these places, put up with complicated and unique procedures, and pay a bunch of fees, when I don’t really need the fuel where they are located, and I can fly in the Alps instead? Who would have thought that stunning beauty would be an excuse for lazy closemindedness?

Like Spain, where it was the month of March where a complex web of seasonality and biology likely interacted to cause an exit from “airport hibernation,” it was this month of March where I equally and suddenly snapped out it. Sure, I had visited Wangen-Lachen (LSPV) near Zürich in February (terrifying myself with south Föhn winds), though that really in my mind was an errant dose of exuberance that changed little. I had terrain I badly wanted to see and forced myself to test out the place as a fuel stop.

A funny lineage led to this new reality. I had been invited to join the Fluggruppe Saanenland, a small club of pilots in the local area. After sending in a membership form, I received audited financials, bylaws of the Swiss verein, and a small invoice; the Swiss are, if anything, orderly. After receiving a few newsletters in German, I eventually received a few small magazines from the Aero Club Berner Oberland, which is apparently the regional parent club for the small group that I had joined. Many months after that, I started getting “Flying Revue,” a magazine in German from Aero Club Schweiz, the national aero club, which is apparently higher on the totem pole than the regional club. When the second magazine arrived, I thought to myself “this is not going to be free.” Sure enough, an invoice in German came two weeks later, for which I could not tell if it was an actual bill, or one of those membership solicitations where the invoice is included for “ease of joining.” It dutifully listed my involvement in Fluggruppe Saanenland and Aero Club Berner Oberland, with specific nominal surcharges associated with each. Given the reasonable amount and my disinterest navigating the situation in German, I paid it. That resulted in the next magazine, where there was an article about “Flugparcours 2021.”

Apparently, at the centenary of Swiss aviation in 2010, there was a similar Flugparcours, where pilots would fly to ten airports in Switzerland in honor of the anniversary. It was repeated every two years since. While I am not sure if said Flugparcours is the exact same ten airports or if they vary, there is a form with all the airports, a place to enter details, receive a signoff that a visit was completed, and a deadline to get it done by October 2021. Apparently, if I do complete it successfully, I send the form in and I get added to a list.

For some reason, that did it. I decided to get off my rear and start visiting some other places, for the simple reality that landing at other airports can actually be something other than mind-bendingly complicated. Besides, if there is a national scheme to encourage landings at these places, surely they will not snarl at the idea of visitors?

I knocked two of them off: La Côte (LSGP) and Neuchâtel (LSGN). Ironically, Langen-Wanchen is on the list, so three are done. I also decided to start work on my instrument rating, so I flew to Yverdon-les-Bains (LSGY) to meet with an instructor, although it was not on the Flugparcours list. It is ironic that visiting other airports is a reminder that landing at the same base airport over and over (and nowhere else) is NOT good for making smooth landings….

While meeting with the instructor, I began snarling about PPRs (Prior Permission Required), and he had an excellent explanation, which was accented by having spent many years in the USA, so he is familiar with my American-centric perspective. Basically, all of the PPR airports are private. While they look and act like public airports (maintenance facilities, fuel, flight schools, paved runways, etc.), they are under tremendous regulatory pressure if they were to operate officially as a “public” airport, which comes with insurance, noise, and other complications. It is a form of ducking under onerous rules to operate privately. For some reason, I had deduced that the PPR requirement had something to do with FOCA statistics, and it does not. Most airports I have talked to just want a quick phone call, tail number, and aircraft type (to verify the visit is not ill advised) and that’s the end of the PPR issue.

At any rate, I have set my mind to visit the rest of the list. And, while I am at it, why not visit the ones that aren’t on the list? We’ll see.

I mistakenly pressed the wrong button and got a 10x time lapse video from my Go Pro. Below is a 4 minute rendition of the flight from Gstaad Airport (LSGK) to La Côte (LSGP).

Climbout from La Côte. Unsurprisingly, that means “the coast.”

Right hand downwind for Neuchâtel. The body of water is Lake Neuchâtel.


Climbout from Neuchâtel, with the city of Neuchâtel along the lake. In the event of engine failure, one’s options consisted of impacting a hard object or getting wet.


Climbout Yverdon-les-Bains.


Some exploits in the past month that didn’t necessarily involve other airports….

Jura Mountains from France. Geneva airport is in the center, along with the Large Hadron Collider lurking amongst all this farmland.

Bütlasse. It has been a bit cold this March in the cockpit…

Sunset on the Spitzhorn, with a 35 knot breeze.

Mt. Blanc, France (15,771′) from above Chamonix. Visiting another airport is not necessary to see this. 

Grosses Engelhorn. No airport stop necessary…

Summit of the Matterhorn (14,692′) with Dufourspitze (15,203′) in the background. This does not bother me as much as airport gymnastics.

Doldenhorn with a bit of a breeze from roughly, 12,400 feet. It is almost comical that flying in such a circumstance is rather relaxing whereas I have to reach deep down to find the motivation to overcome my reticence to land elsewhere….

Book #30 is done: Pobles de la Cerdanya. It is a photo journey of unique villages in Spanish and French Cerdanya, viewed over multiple years from the Cub.

Garrett Fisher is an aerial adventure photographer, having photographed some of the most rugged and wild terrain in America from his 1949 Piper PA-11. After living in Germany with the Cub, he recently moved to the Spanish Pyrenees to continue the flying adventure. He has published six aerial photography books covering the Colorado Rockies, Wyoming, high terrain in the Southeast, and the Outer Banks, with more US and European books in the pipeline. He blogs regularly about his flights at www.garrettfisher.me.