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Aviation1 October, 2025

Where earth meets sky

What do a photographer and a pilot have in common? One chases the light, the other – the wind. One captures a fleeting moment, the other flies right through it. But the meeting between world-renowned photographer George Kardava and Centrum Air captain Vasiliy Rodionov is more than a conversation between two people from different walks of life. It’s a dialogue about the sky, fears, rituals, the road, memory, and the human spirit. No posturing, no pomp – just honest words, gentle humor, and a deep respect for details. A conversation where takeoff and landing aren’t just about airplanes.



G.K.: Before our meeting, I did a bit of research and found out that you have a full namesake – a Hero of the Soviet Union, a military fighter pilot. Did you know about this?


V.R.: That’s the first I’ve heard of it. It’s a fairly common last name, but for him to also be a pilot – that’s definitely interesting.



G.K.: With that in mind, I’d love to go back a bit. Tell me – how did you come into aviation?


V.R.: I was born and raised in an ordinary family. Well… maybe not entirely ordinary. My father was a test-engineer who worked his whole life at an aircraft plant testing helicopters. That must have influenced me somehow.


After ninth grade, a local aeroclub opened in our town. A bunch of us guys went there just out of curiosity, passed a quick interview, and that was it – we started training. We studied there for a year and even got to fly the Yak-52, a small training aircraft.


The director of the aeroclub was a military pilot, and he kind of indoctrinated us – worked on our mindset, you know? So when it came time to finish school, I didn’t hesitate much: I decided to apply to a military assault aviation school. It just felt like the natural next step. My dad had been in the military, and I wanted that too. But I didn’t pass the medical – there were height restrictions…



G.K.: You didn’t fit in the cockpit?


V.R.: If I just didn’t fit in the cockpit, that would’ve been manageable. But according to the ejection seat standards, my height posed a risk – with that kind of force, I could’ve injured my spine. The surgeon looked at me and said flat out: “Not allowed”. It’s kind of funny now, because that was literally the only thing that would’ve stopped me from flying a combat aircraft. My mom still keeps the medical record with that note: “Not fit for flight training”.


After that, I rewrote my application – this time to a transport aviation school, where they don’t use ejection seats. I passed the medical with no issues and got in. I graduated in 2000, and from 2000 to 2012, I served in the military.



G.K.: Did you ever have to drop anything from the aircraft? Paratroopers? Equipment?


V.R.: We did a lot of training flights – we practiced airdropping. But for the most part, we were transporting equipment, cargo, and troops.



G.K.: Do you remember your first solo flight?


V.R.: I remember it very well. It was on June 4, 1998. I was in my third year of training, and we were flying the B-410 aircraft. A solo flight means they put two cadets in the cockpit and send you off. I flew with my friend, Dmitry Lopatin. We’re still in touch to this day – we meet up whenever I fly over there. It was an unforgettable flight, for sure. I don’t think you can forget something like that.



G.K.: What made it unforgettable?


V.R.: The feeling itself. You're alone, no instructor. You take off, do a circuit, and land. The whole thing lasted maybe 12 minutes. On your first solo day, you have to complete two of these flights. And then, as tradition has it, you hand out signed cigarettes to your friends and instructors. That’s been around long before our time.



G.K.: What did it feel like when no one senior was in the cockpit with you – just you and the plane?


V.R.: You know, I didn’t really feel like: “What do I do, I’m all alone?” Sure, there’s a little anxiety when you first get in, but then you start going through your checklist – switch this on, check that, request clearance… And before you know it, you’re just in the flow.


Honestly, I was more nervous that morning when I woke up. It was my first solo flight – plus, I was the first one from my class scheduled to go up that day. The uncertainty weighs on you a bit. But you know others flew before you, more will fly after, and now it’s your turn.


Once we got to the airfield, went through the preflight prep and briefing, the nerves started to settle. And having your buddy with you – that’s huge support. You’re in it together, and that gives you confidence.



G.K.: Your profession is often romanticized. My own love for aviation started with “The Little Prince” by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry – a man who flew planes and later became a writer. With that in mind, what’s the least romantic part of your job?


V.R.: If there’s any romance in aviation, it begins the moment you sit in the cockpit, power up the systems, and take off. You’ve got a mission, a destination, a purpose. But the rest of the time, a pilot – like a doctor, a programmer, or a teacher – is constantly studying. Endless briefings, assessments, simulators. Sure, you're always learning something new, and that’s great – but sometimes you sit there thinking, Why do I even need to know this? Those moments – the sometimes illogical grind – are probably the least romantic parts of the job.



G.K.: Is there a way to tell if someone is a good pilot without knowing their total flight hours?


V.R.: Honestly? Not really. These days, new pilots join our company all the time. I conduct training with them, get to know them. One of the first things I ask is how many hours they have on a specific aircraft type.


If they’ve logged thousands of hours on this exact model, it’s easier to work with them – they’re more confident in their actions. But if someone just graduated and flew light aircraft, and now they’re transitioning to an Airbus – that’s a different story. It takes more time, more guidance. So for me, flight time is an important indicator.



G.K.: How many hours have you logged?


V.R.: Approximately eleven and a half thousand. 



G.K.: Have you ever felt fear in the air?


V.R.: No, I wouldn’t say fear. Sure, there are moments – like when you have to reroute around a thunderstorm. You’re staring at the radar, calculating the best way around it, because flying through it is both forbidden and… let’s be honest, not appealing. But that’s not fear. That’s just decision-making. That’s why we’re up there – to make the calls.



G.K.: These days people say it’s only a matter of time before we have one pilot in the cockpit – or even fully autonomous planes. What’s your take on that?


V.R.: I don’t think that’s happening any time soon. There are still too many situations where only a human can make the right decision – not a computer. Sure, you can teach an AI to avoid thunderstorms, but if every autonomous aircraft starts rerouting differently on its own, you’ll have chaos in the skies.



G.K.: By the way, my next question is about artificial intelligence. It’s a hot topic in the media right now. AI is getting smarter, faster, sometimes even more efficient than humans – and, most importantly, cheaper. Do you think the switch to AI is inevitable?


V.R.: I believe we’ll get there eventually, but definitely not in the near future. Airbus has already developed a passenger aircraft that can take off and land automatically, but it’s still far from being widely adopted. The issue isn’t even the technology – it’s more about our mindset. People feel safer knowing there’s a human being in the cockpit.



G.K.: Reminds me of those Instagram reels showing taxis with no drivers, where the steering wheel turns by itself.


V.R.: Yes, I saw one of those recently. On the one hand, it’s impressive; on the other – it triggers a primal fear. There’s so much news now about autonomous vehicles. It’s definitely becoming a reality.



G.K.: Back to the previous topic – can you share the most extreme situation in flight that you’re proud of handling?


V.R.: Well, I wouldn’t call any of them truly extreme. You have to understand: an aircraft is still a machine, and machines fail. Especially modern airliners – they’re packed with electronics. I’m not even sure how many computers are onboard... probably around 150 or more. But we’re trained for that – we go through simulator sessions every six months. The simulators are nearly identical to real aircraft, so the experience feels very close. There’s always an instructor sitting behind you – “the villain”, we call him – who triggers all sorts of malfunctions for us to handle.


I believe the simulator training cycle is set up in a way that, over the course of three years, a pilot will practice handling every possible technical failure that could occur on their aircraft type. I’ve had such situations in real life too. Of course, it feels different – on the simulator you’re on the ground, while in the air you’ve got 200 passengers behind you. But in the end, you follow your training. I always tell pilots: follow the checklist – don’t improvise. These steps were created by smart people for a reason.


Failures do happen, but I wouldn’t say they’re something to boast about. Still… one case stands out. Once, I had a hydraulic fluid leak – in an Airbus, there are three independent hydraulic systems, and I lost one. We followed the procedures, managed the failure, and safely landed at our destination. A month or two later, there was an official investigation – as it was an aviation incident. And when the commission confirmed that the crew acted correctly, with no remarks – that’s when I thought, “Yeah, I did a good job”.



G.K.: I often see lists online like “Top 10 Scariest Airports in the World”: some on cliff edges, others with runways only three meters wide. Do you have your own “red list” of airports where you’d never fly?


V.R.: No, I don’t have a list like that. Over the years, I’ve flown into many airports. Sure, some are more challenging, but you just prepare more thoroughly for them. One example is Dushanbe. It’s a mountainous airport with a pretty steep approach. And pilots, especially when it comes to safety, face strict requirements.


There’s a concept called a “stabilized approach” – by 1,000 feet above the runway, the aircraft must be fully stabilized: proper speed, proper configuration, wings level, everything by the book. In Dushanbe, achieving that kind of approach isn’t always easy. If you don’t manage it – you’re required to go around. And at night, in mountainous terrain, in a thunderstorm... well, that’s not exactly a pleasant prospect. You’re simply not allowed to continue the approach. So airports like that require extra preparation.


Another one is Tivat, in Montenegro. The approach is quite unusual – you fly through mountains, approach the runway at an angle, and then make a turn to land. Thankfully, we have access to all the aeronautical information we need, and we study it carefully beforehand.


In my previous airline, Dubai was considered a Category B airport. You’d think – desert, nothing to worry about. But it’s challenging because of the heavy traffic – so many planes in the air at once, you have to be extra alert. Bangkok is often on that list too, for the same reason: very busy airspace.


There’s no airport I’d say, “No way I’m flying there”. Every flight is unique. Weather, wind – they all affect your decisions. And every time, you think about how to get your passengers safely from point A to point B.



G.K.: One last thing – do pilots tend to be superstitious? Do you have any pre-flight rituals or habits you always follow to make sure the flight goes well?


V.R.: I think every pilot has their own. Picture this: an aircraft stands alone on the ramp. The crew arrives, boards the plane, and suddenly it comes alive – it hums and buzzes. It’s like a living organism. The aircraft is the body, the crew is the soul.


As for rituals… many pilots – and I’m no exception – have a tradition: to give the aircraft a little pat on the fuselage. I’ve seen female crew members gently touch the plane as they walk up the stairs. Some pilots always follow the exact same sequence before a flight, others just take a moment to focus. I personally never speak badly about an aircraft.


In my old company, we had a plane whose tail number ended with “BDA”. People nicknamed it “Beda” (which sounds like “Trouble” in Russian). I asked, “Why do you call it that?” They said, “Remember Captain Vrungel’s yacht was called ‘Pobeda’ (‘Victory’), and when two letters fell off, it became ‘Beda’ (‘Trouble’)”. And sure enough, something was always breaking on that plane – one system or another. I asked them to stop calling it that – and guess what, it stopped having issues.


In the army, we had our own traditions too. For example, we always had to shave before a flight. One veteran noticed me unshaven once and said, “You know, even during the war, pilots would shave before flying. So the enemy wouldn’t get the chance to do it for them”. I never forgot that.



G.K.: I’ve heard that pilots often personify their aircraft. Is that true for you? Do you treat your aircraft like a living being?


V.R.: Well, as I’ve said before, we’re like a single organism – we work as one: it won’t fly without us, and we can’t get anyone anywhere without it. I don’t talk to the aircraft or anything, but now that you’ve asked, I do remember something… I was flying with a training captain. The aircraft was modern, full of electronics. Suddenly, we get a failure message on the screen. We tried fixing it ourselves – the error disappeared. Then, a little later – bam – it popped up again. We tried fixing it again.


We called the engineer, he went through his checklist, everything seemed fine. He left – and the same failure reappeared. So we tried again and managed to clear it. We just sat there staring at the screen, waiting to see if it would come back or not.



G.K.: Hypnotizing it…


V.R.: Exactly. And the instructor I was flying with, Dmitry Ivanovich, gently patted the aircraft and said, “Alright now, easy, easy”. And it listened! We asked, “Should we board the passengers?” We’re not allowed to fly if there’s an unresolved issue. But everything was fine, so we let them on board. We flew the round trip, and that error never came back. What happened? No idea. We just gave it a pat – and it calmed down.



G.K.: What about your relationship with the crew? You’ve mentioned that it depends a lot on who you’re flying with. Do you feel a strong connection to the people?


V.R.: There’s no big secret to it. You don’t have to force anything. There’s a clear structure in how the flight crew and cabin crew interact, and everyone just sticks to their role. Like I said: no freelancing. Just do your job, and everything runs smoothly. The procedures we follow were developed over many years. In aviation, there’s a saying – though I’m not a fan of the phrase – that regulations are “written in blood”. Because every one of them came from some real-life incident.


You might remember the incident with the German airline in the Austrian Alps? The captain left the cockpit to use the restroom, and the first officer locked the door and flew the plane into a mountain. Everyone on board died. That wasn’t that long ago – maybe five years back. After that, a new rule was introduced: no one can be alone in the cockpit. If the captain or first officer needs to step out, a flight attendant must come in before the other leaves. That rule was introduced then – but in Russia, it’s been standard for years.



G.K.: And what about informal relationships between pilots and flight attendants?


V.R.: That’s easy – Centrum has a great atmosphere. When I joined two years ago, we were immediately sent on a long summer assignment in Kuwait. That really brought us closer as a team. Of course, new people come in all the time, but we still all know each other. Someone always knows someone who introduces you to someone else.


The relationship between pilots and flight attendants in our company is really great – I like it a lot. For example, if we’re flying to Guangzhou, we’ll be there for three or four days. So we arrive, and over dinner we say, “Alright guys, what do we want to see in Guangzhou?” We sit together and make a plan. It’s a young company, and the team is mostly young too. So there are no issues. On board, we work strictly by the book, and off the plane – we just hang out like regular people.



G.K.: I’d like to talk a bit about the media side of your job. Specifically, that moment when you suddenly went viral on Instagram. How did that happen, and how do you feel about it? About your appearance, the attention from passengers – does it get in the way of your work?


V.R.: Not at all. I wouldn’t say there was crazy attention or anything – no. Honestly, I don’t even remember how it all started. One day someone called and invited me for a photo shoot on an aircraft. I happened to have a free day, no plans – so I went.


As for that video… I had just landed when I got a call about the shoot. They said, “Please don’t leave the plane, wait for us”. So the first officer and I stayed behind while the crew left. I just turned on some music, and the moment took off. Honestly, I was really surprised that the video went viral – two million views! I thought, wow, I totally didn’t expect that.
(Editor’s note: the video was posted on the official Centrum Air Instagram page.)



G.K.: Any idea how many countries you’ve been to? And where would you still like to go?


V.R.: Oh… I didn’t bring my tablet! (laughs) I haven’t really counted, but I do keep track of the places I’ve visited.



G.K.: I use TripAdvisor for that too – I’ve got a map of where I’ve been.


V.R.: I just drop pins in Maps.me. There are still so many places I’d love to visit. For example, South America. I can’t name one specific country... well, actually, Brazil for sure. And the northern part of South America is really intriguing. After watching a film about Pablo Escobar, I really wanted to walk those streets.



G.K.: You mean Medellín, in Colombia?


V.R.: Yes, exactly. I’ve also never been to the U.S. Why not? I’d love to see how people live there. Telling you this now, I realize my travel dreams are pretty global. Like Australia, for example.


But if we talk about the places I’ve already been – I absolutely loved Prague. I’m also a big fan of Barcelona. In general, there are lots of amazing places everywhere. Even in Saudi Arabia – I rented a car and drove off into the desert somewhere, and it was actually a great experience. Well… as long as the AC works! (laughs)



G.K.: What about transatlantic flights? What’s that like from a technical or sensory standpoint?


V.R.: I’ve flown across the Atlantic only once, and that was as a passenger – to the Dominican Republic. It was insanely long and exhausting. Around twelve and a half hours in the air. The flight was early, around dawn. I purposely stayed up all night so I could sleep on the plane. In the end, I only slept about four hours. And there were still eight hours left to go! I just watched movies... that’s how it went.


Some of my friends fly long-haul like that, on big aircraft with dual crews. Two pilots take off, do the first shift, then go rest while the other two take over. A little before landing, they switch again. It’s all logical and well-organized – but it’s still tough. Although I guess you get used to anything eventually.


Right now, we’re flying to Guangzhou and Phu Quoc. Not 12 to 15 hours, of course – but 8 hours one way is still something. You want to stretch, walk around... but you can’t really roam the cabin much.



G.K.: And how do you feel about flying as a passenger? Don’t you ever feel the urge to hop into the cockpit?


V.R.: Honestly, I don’t enjoy flying as a passenger. Not sure why – I just don’t like it. And no, I don’t feel the urge to jump into the cockpit, because I know there’s a professional in there. If that pilot was trusted with the aircraft, it means they earned it, and there’s no reason not to trust them. That’s it.



G.K.: Have you ever had conflicts with another pilot?


V.R.: If you see that the other pilot is doing something wrong – not according to the protocol – your job as the captain is to point it out, guide them. If that doesn’t work, the captain always has the right to take control. There’s a standard phrase for it: “I have control”.


In the cockpit, it’s usually just the captain and the first officer. One of them flies a segment of the route, the other handles the radio and systems. On the return leg – they switch. But even if the other pilot is flying, if I see something going wrong, I have the right to step in. Safety comes first, so if needed – I take over.



G.K.: What did you learn about yourself after your 100th flight? Did you feel more confident – or more uncertain?


V.R.: Oh, that’s a great question. Honestly, I don’t remember whether it was my 100th flight or not – but in the end, that doesn’t really matter. What I’ve noticed is this: a pilot flies as a first officer for a while, then eventually becomes a captain – which is a challenging path in itself. After going through all of that, they start operating flights as Pilot-in-Command. And then, about a year in, after logging close to a thousand flight hours, something starts to shift subconsciously. They begin to feel – not like a legend – but definitely like a pretty great pilot.


Confidence builds, and that’s when mistakes start happening. Nothing major or dangerous, but still – little slip-ups. One or two, and then they get back to flying normally. I’ve made mistakes too – I won’t deny it. But we’re closely monitored. All aircraft have objective control systems, and every flight parameter is decoded. If there's even a small deviation, a red flag is raised, and you’ll hear: “Hey guys, what happened here?” Even if it’s not critical – it still gets reviewed.



G.K.: So what happens when a pilot makes a mistake? 


V.R.: The flight data gets decoded, and then the instructor is obligated to go through the incident. The goal is to understand why it happened. Maybe the pilot had nothing to do with it. It’s important to dig into the root cause. This kind of work is routine at every airline – it’s just part of the process.



G.K.: Are there any public stereotypes about pilots that annoy you?


V.R.: There was one incident. I was in a taxi in Irkutsk. We’d flown in for a 24-hour layover: my crew went to the hotel, and I went to visit a friend from school. The next morning, I was heading to the airport in uniform. The driver asked, “You a pilot?” I said, “Yeah”. He replied, “Why are you sober?” That actually rubbed me the wrong way.


I didn’t even bother explaining. He already had a whole picture in his head – why argue? But it was unpleasant. For some reason, he assumed that if you’re a pilot, you must be drunk. I don’t know where that idea even comes from.


Another common misconception is that today’s pilots just show up, push a couple of buttons, and the plane flies itself. That always makes me smile. Reality is quite different. The Airbus is a very complex machine – and I’ve got something to compare it with. I used to fly Soviet aircraft – like the An-24, An-26, An-18. Now I fly a modern Airbus, and it’s on a completely different level. Yes, it’s packed with automatic and electronic systems that definitely help – but to operate them correctly, you need to understand how they work. The whole retraining process for the Airbus wasn’t easy for me.


And here’s another myth I hear all the time – that almost all landings today are automatic. That’s just not true. In 27 years of flying, and 13 years on the Airbus, I’ve done only three automatic landings. And even those were due to weather conditions – not by choice.


The interview continued in a cozy restaurant on the banks of the Salar canal. Suddenly, a slight movement near the water’s edge caught our eyes – it was a muskrat.



G.K.: Look, she’s getting ready for a swim.


V.R.: Yep, looks like it. Actually, we have one pilot who works in our safety inspection department – he’s about 59 years old now. A man I truly respect. My last name is Rodionov, and his first name is Rodion. Two years ago, when we were on assignment in Kuwait, we were chatting over breakfast and he said, “I’m flying to Istanbul for a couple of days”. I replied, “But we had flights to Istanbul and never had a two-day layover”. And he said, “No, I’m just going on my own”. Turns out, he was going to take part in the international Bosphorus cross-continental swim. And he did it! In his age category, he didn’t come in last – somewhere in the middle, maybe even closer to the top. That’s impressive!



G.K.: Everyone seems to have a different opinion, but I just have to ask – is clapping after landing considered as a bad manners? And do you actually hear the applause?


V.R.: You know, I think I’ve heard it a couple of times – in Antalya, maybe somewhere else. But even if I didn’t hear it myself, I come out of the cockpit after everyone’s already left, and the flight attendant says, “Hey, they clapped for you”. Well, that’s nice, isn’t it? I don’t get why some people react so negatively to that. If someone wants to show their emotions – let them, for heaven’s sake.


There was one time I heard it clearly, but it wasn’t during landing – it was mid-flight. I think the Ice Hockey World Championship was on – maybe the semifinals or finals, I don’t remember exactly. We were in the air, and I looked at the time and thought, “The game must be over by now”. So I asked the air traffic controller, “What’s the score?”



G.K.: Did you announce it?


V.R.: Yes, I announced the score right there during the flight. It was a night flight, and everyone just burst into applause!



G.K.: There are lots of examples online of flight attendants and pilots doing creative things – like reciting the safety briefing in verse or adding jokes. Have you ever done anything like that?


V.R.: No, I haven’t. When we first started flying at Centrum Air, captains weren’t required to make announcements – it was optional. But just a few days ago, a new regulation came out: we’ll now be required to greet passengers, provide updates at cruising altitude, during descent, and after landing. If there’s a delay – we’ll need to announce that, too.


In my previous airline, I actually liked sharing information about what we were flying over – landmarks and all that. Why not?


I remember one time on the way to Barcelona, we were flying over the French Riviera – Nice, Cannes, all of it. I got a little carried away with my commentary, and we happened to hit a bit of light turbulence. Nothing major – there’s always a little turbulence during flights. Even so, later a passenger filed a complaint, saying the captain was “talking about seas and cities” instead of “holding the aircraft steady”. My supervisors and I just smiled – kind of like we’re smiling now.



G.K.: Aside from money, what keeps you in this profession?


V.R.: Oh! You know… it’s not just about aviation – this applies to any profession. I simply love what I do. That’s it.


My sister is a school principal, and once she asked me to give a talk to her class about aviation. I told the kids: go study something you’re truly passionate about. Become who you really want to be.


Take you, for example. I only use my phone to take pictures, but you – I can tell you really know what you’re doing, and you enjoy it. You studied it, figured it out, and now you’re all in. Whether you’re a doctor, a teacher, a pilot – it works the same way. You can’t go into a job just for the money. You have to do something you truly love. That’s how you become successful – and once you’re successful, everything else naturally follows. I don’t remember who said it, but there’s a quote that stuck with me: “Set big goals – they’re easier to hit”.



G.K.: Yes, aim for the stars – you might land on the Moon. Vasiliy, I’d like to shift gears and ask a bit about sexism in your profession. Specifically, about female pilots. What’s your take on it? How common is it these days? Is it still possible to meet your own Hanna Erhardt or Sabiha Gokcen?


V.R.: I’m very much in favor of it. In my previous company, we had female pilots. I personally trained one of them as an instructor. At first, I was cautious – purely from a professional standpoint. But after flying with her for a certain amount of time, I realized: there are absolutely no downsides. She’s completely competent, knows her stuff, does her job well.


Here at Centrum Air, there’s also a young woman who recently joined. I’ve only flown one mission with her so far, so it’s too early to judge. But during all the initial ground training, she proved herself to be no less capable than the guys. In general, there are more and more women pilots around the world now. Remember when cars first appeared? Only men were behind the wheel. Later, women were allowed too – and now many of them drive just as well as seasoned male drivers.



G.K.: What does it mean to you to be part of Centrum Air? And how is this airline different from others, from a pilot’s point of view?


V.R.: I truly enjoy being part of this company. I joined almost at the very beginning, when it was just starting flight operations. It’s been a pleasure watching Centrum grow. Of course, there have been challenges, but we’re overcoming them.


Our route network is expanding fast, and we’re based in Tashkent – a great international hub. It’s where ancient trade routes and modern airways intersect. The Silk Road never disappeared; it just changed shape, and Centrum is an active part of it. We fly passengers, transport cargo – continuing the tradition of connecting East and West. That’s inspiring.


Doing what you love, working for a dynamic company with a great team – what could be better? It really is a dream job, just like in the movies.



G.K.: Have there ever been moments when you wanted to quit flying? How did you talk yourself out of it? Do you remember the first time you felt burnt out?


V.R.: Fatigue comes regularly. Night flights get tougher with age. I’m 47 now, and I’ll be honest – nights are no longer easy. But I’ve never seriously thought about quitting.


There was a break in my flying career after I left the military and was transitioning to civilian aviation. That break lasted about a year and seven months. I clearly remember the moment I stopped flying – standing on the ground, looking up at the sky, watching planes take off, and feeling this deep longing. I really wanted to fly again, but the opportunity just wasn’t there. After about three or four months, the ache started to fade. But I knew that to return, I’d need retraining and certification. Becoming a civilian pilot is no small feat – and I didn’t even speak English at the time.


As they say, the road is made by walking. I went through all the training, got accepted into civil aviation. Then I had to learn to fly an Airbus – I hadn’t flown one before. And when that aircraft finally took off under my control, I thought, “How could I ever have stepped away from this?” Not that I wanted to leave – the desire had just faded a bit. But once I was back in the sky, I knew – there’s no turning back. As long as I can fly, I will.



G.K.: That’s beautiful… I think that’s the perfect note to end on. Thank you for such a fascinating conversation. I hope it wasn’t too exhausting?


V.R.: Not at all, talking with you was a real pleasure. Thank you.