Its March 1996 and after 11 years since the last attempt I had made up my mind to achieve a long life ambition, TO FLY.  
After some extensive research of all the schools I could track down in the States, South Africa and a few other exotic places (I concluded the UK weather and prices were not the best on the planet) and following a personal recommendation I ended up at Mazzie Flying Services in Fresno, California.
Although not the cheapest, they provided everything you needed including great accommodation located in the middle of a golf course, with a swimming pool, washing facilities, bicycles to get you to the field and more importantly, a guaranteed pass.  It was now June and I'm on my way to the USA on the UA flight to San Francisco and a local flight to Fresno, I was meet at the airport by Mrs. Brannan and taken to my apartment which had been stocked with fresh milk , tea, eggs and bacon, the next morning I was collected and taken to the school, and after introductions I found myself surrounded by other trainees of various stages in their flight training (most were looking for IFR and CPL's). It had all the makings of a great months of flying and I was right.

An aerial view of Fresno taken during my second trip to the states a year later on a trip from Gillipsie to Columbia (Yosemite) . I could have sworn I heard my old instructor, Marc down below on the radio.
As an early hour student, sweat would brake out every time I cleared the runway wondering which taxi way I was supposed to take  while the big boys were stiring from their stands at the terminal.

We couldn't believe our luck when the marines turned up in F18's  at our school one day to refuel. It seemed a little odd given the California National Gaurd and their F16's were based at the other end of the runway, but who's complaining. As you can imagine a few of us spent the rest of the day dreaming of what could have been or wished had been.

During the month I spent at Fresno, the GA area was often visited by exotic aircraft  of all sorts. This privately owned Eastern Block  jet trainer, a Delphin, dropped in one day for a refuel.

A plane I'll never forget, Tomahawk 2452T gave me my first solo at Chandler, a small field a few miles from Fresno on 30th June 1996.

My favorite plane, she took me away on my first cross country to Porterville, following the instructions of my training to the letter, I couldn't believe it when exactly 26 mins later I arrived over head of PTV, a massive confidence boost.  Later she would take me on most of my solo's, a 3.5 hour excursion to Monterey and my 5 hour cross country to Paso Robles, and Santa Barbara to name a few but most of all she gave me my PPL.

What a wonderful place, after a short flight from Fresno and perched up behind the hills forming the back drop to Monterey, I called up the tower and they sailed me straight in for a full stop. It wasn't all that easy though, trying to loose height, I had to spin a 360 before I was reasonably set up for my final approach and landing
With assistance I eventually found my way to the local FBO for a refuel, coffee and a snack. It was back to my plane and I'm away. The tower directs me down the long golden beach as I leave Monterey behind and head inland for a few T&G's at a field a few miles away and then on to Fresno for another night of swatting.

I spent nearly 4 weeks in California and this is about the closest I got to enjoying the beach. I have to admit, this is the best way of enjoying it though.

A familiar sight returning from the latest sortie as I'm lined up for 29L, the smallest of the tarmacs and watching out for the California National Guard F16's which have the habit of coming low on the right for 29R.