"How would you like to fly with me at six tomorrow morning?" asks Louvain farm manager Morné Jonker soon after we arrive at this guest farm between George and Uniondale.
The hesitation clearly registers in my eyes as he deftly suggests that perhaps I'd prefer to sleep late in the uber-romantic Berghuis cottage he's arranged for Annette and I. I'm somewhat relieved, not only because I prefer being on the ground than in the sky, but if I'm going to fly, I want the aircraft to have two fans and two pilots – a spec Morné's nifty microlight can't offer me.
