If you're ever in need of falling (back) in love with Newcastle and its nearby coastline, then getting above it all in a gyroplane would be one sure-fire way of doing so.
I'm just five minutes into my introductory gyroplane flight, tracking south from Lake Macquarie Airfield, when the gloom that has beset me recently begins to lift.
It's the combination of the excitement of flight and the bird's eye view, from 700 feet (213 metres) in the sky, of what can only be described as a sparkling, mesmeric shoreline that immediately resets my perspective.
Below us to our right, the caramel-coloured sands of Blacksmiths Beach curl around to Swansea Heads, where Lake Macquarie meets the sea, and the melding of fresh and saltwater in the shallow inlet produce a scintillating display in a spectrum of green and blue hues that any artist would cherish.
Further south we fly overhead Caves Beach, the rugged clifftops of Wallarah National Park and the secluded coves of Munmorah State Conservation Area before tracking above Catherine Hill Bay, where my pilot Rory Duncan points out the old coal jetty jutting out to sea.
The extent of the greenery along the coast is remarkable from the air, with long swathes of undeveloped land stretching south along what I had always envisaged as a long and mostly unbroken urban corridor between Newcastle and Sydney.
We soon reach Frazer Park, where the ocean has hollowed out significant caves in the cliffs, and arc over the top of the Budgewoi Peninsula, with Lake Munmorah glinting inland and Birdie Beach, with its few scattered nudists under umbrellas, beneath.
It's at this point that we turn around to head back north and the excitement ratchets up even further as I take up the option of flying the gyroplane.
Invented 100 years ago by Spanish engineer Juan de la Cierva, the gyroplane, also known as a gyrocopter or autogyro, is a mix of an ultralight plane and a helicopter, predating the first flight by the latter by 16 years.
The autogyro I am flying in today is a two-seater, Italian-made Magni M16, with a rotor blade at the top and powered by what is called a "pusher engine" and tail plane at the back. It has open cockpits so I can take photographs, and dual controls, as this is technically a training flight too.
Learning to pilot one of these aircraft takes as little as 20 hours of training flights and this introductory experience can count toward the total.
After a quick pre-flight inspection, we are ready to go.
To take off, pilot Rory Duncan taxies to the far end of the Lake Macquarie Airfield, then takes the aircraft through a pre-rotation process, using the blade above, before releasing the handbrake and engaging the throttle to speed down the runway and achieve uplift and eventually auto-rotation, which is how the gyroplane flies.
Normally, take-off is into any headwind but today the southerly breeze is blowing across the airfield so rising off the ground is bit bumpy, although by no means scary.
Autogyros have a top speed of up to 160 kilometres per hour, but cruise at around 130 kilometres per hour at an altitude of above 500 feet (150 metres). They can fly for up to four hours and for a maximum distance of about 600 kilometres, in non-controlled airspace, communicating via VHF radio with other smaller, low-flying aircraft. Gyrocopters are inherently stable to fly and able to fly in a much broader range of conditions than most light aircraft.
So here I am, 20 minutes after take-off, above Budgewoi Peninsula, taking control of a gyroplane for the first time.
It is a bit nerve-wracking at first. However, after following Duncan's instructions, issued through our headsets, to visually check the direction we are heading, I am soon gently turning the gyrocopter to the right, using the cyclic (a long lever/joystick jutting up from the floor) in front of me and guiding the autogyro out to sea.
Next, Duncan suggests I effect a 360-degree turn, easing the autogyro further to the right and slightly up to keep us level.
The buzz is immediate and palpable. Yet, as I settle back into flying the autogyro up the coast, on this slightly blustery but cloudless summer's day, it is also strangely and quickly relaxing.
If the scenery weren't screaming to be photographed, I'd happily continue guiding the autogyro for the rest of the hour-long flight.
As it is, Duncan soon has us back up the coast, above Redhead beach, the surf club and the famous ruddy cliffs looming ahead. Next, we track over Awabakal Nature Reserve and gorgeous Dudley Beach, the 1.3km length of which I often walked during Covid, then over Glenrock Lagoon and onto Burwood Beach.
Passing Newcastle's prime real estate in Merewether, in front of which people are swimming lengths in the ocean baths, and Bar Beach, there are wide-angle views right across this great city, with the harbour prominent behind and Stockton Bight reaching into the distance.
Further north still and the cliffs seem to rear up from the ocean. We pass the Memorial Walk, the Hill and King Edward Park before the coast slopes down to Newcastle Beach, set under a few of our city centre's tallest buildings, the avocado-shaped canoe pool prominent at its far end.
There cannot be any better way of getting a perspective on the layout of this city, built on coal and steel, than by seeing it from the air like this.
As we near the Hunter River mouth, we can see Fort Scratchley crowning a mound and chunky Nobby's Beach lining the ocean side of the long breakwater that defines the harbour entrance, with dog-friendly Horseshoe Beach tucked away behind it.
It is no exaggeration to say that, in this moment, I am smitten with my adopted city, and would gladly hang here, taking it all in, on a glorious summer's day. However, it is time now to head back to Belmont and so, with about 200 photographs taken on my camera and iPhone, as well as the odd windblown video, I ask to fly the autogyro again.
The remainder of the flight goes way too quickly. It feels like no time at all before Duncan is reassuming control, bringing us thrillingly down low over Nine Mile Beach before swooping inland above Belmont Lagoon and then over Lake Macquarie, Marks Point curving into it.
If it is possible, Duncan has saved the best for last. On our approach to the runway, we fly over Pelican Island and the outer edges of Swan Bay, where the confluence of the shallow lake waters, island fringes and sand banks produce a palette of diaphanous green and turquoise.
It is an unforgettable end to an unforgettable flight that has provided a timely reminder both of our coastline's indelible beauty and that you don't have to travel far for a huge adventure.
DETAILS
Airborne Flight Training is based at Lake Macquarie Airport, Pacific Highway, Marks Point. Run by father and son team, Russell and Rory Duncan, who have been flying gyroplanes for nearly 50 and 15 years respectively, the company offers introductory or training flights in autogyros, microlights and hang gliders. Rory is also an Australian hang-gliding champion, competing all over the world. Airborne offers both open and enclosed autogryos and only operate aircraft certified to the highest safety standards. Introductory gyroplane flights start at $250 for 30 minutes, up to $490 for 90 minutes. Visit: airborneflighttraining.com.au ( http://airborneflighttraining.com.au )
