It's potentially dangerous. And especially in a rocky, stony environment like we have here, even more so. It's definitely less forgiving than a soft alpine meadow or a spruce forest. I always have to decide how great the danger is. And if I were to think like that, if I always had reservations, I wouldn't be where I am now. My life would have taken a completely different course. Podz-Glidz,
the Lu-Glidz podcast.
Stories from the cosmos of paragliding.
Today with Martin Stegmann. And I am Lucian Haas. Life itself is often similar to a cross-country flight with a paraglider. You look for opportunities, scramble from lift to lift, and glide into new territories. And sometimes it's coincidences that somehow move you forward. However, you only experience these coincidences if you give them a chance by starting in the first place. This image fits well with the life story of Martin Stegmann. The 67-year-old today emigrated to Almeria in southern Spain over 30 years ago with his then-young family to sell solar systems there. It was a lucky chain of coincidences that eventually also led to Martin learning paragliding in Almeria.
Today, he and his wife Annika run the El Campillo guesthouse on the edge of the Cabo de Gata Nature Park, with a small mountain right nearby. It is a popular winter destination for paraglider groups. Martin tells the story of how that happened in this episode 164 of Podz-Glidz.
Since you're listening to the podcast, why not become a supporter of Podz-Glidz? It explains how easy it is on the paragliding blog Lu-Glidz, specifically on the Support page.
Martin, how hot is it today? What's it like for you guys in Almeria right now?
Others say it's very hot. But actually, compared to the interior of the country,
it's all manageable here. I just read that there was a new temperature record in southern Spain, 46 degrees.
Yes, they happen every year, in Seville, in Cordoba. But here, you're actually relatively privileged because the prevailing winds, the east and west winds, always sweep across the sea before they hit here.
That means you live close enough that you at least always get a slightly humid and cooler breeze.
Sort of. The historical maximum temperature in Almeria is below 40 degrees. Ah, okay. At least that was true a few years ago. That might have changed in recent years, though.
When you're here in the summer and it's maybe not 40 degrees, but still very, very hot, do you ever regret emigrating to Spain? No.
No. No, everything here is manageable. You just have to adjust your life a bit. The days are long, you get up early, and make use of the morning. And around noon, when it's hottest, you're either at the beach or you retreat into the house, close everything up, and have a pleasant 28, 29 degrees. And we manage perfectly fine here without air conditioning. No, the heat isn't a problem.
What drove you to go abroad back then? Hmm.
That can't really be put into a few words, but basically, a certain sense of adventure.
The climate. I'm from southern Germany. There, it was often shrouded in fog for half the year during the winter. Yeah, and I traveled so much in my youth that at some point, the German climate just wasn't really suitable for me anymore. A
Climate refugee. And why did you choose Almeria as a location? You could...
You could say it the other way around. Almeria chose us. I can't just speak for myself either, because our whole project is a joint project with my wife Annika.
And how did Almeria choose you?
A chain of coincidences. I was studying mechanical engineering. Second internship semester. My first internship semester was at Mercedes-Benz in Sindelfingen. I could have done the second one there too. But I wanted to go south. I tried to get a position for a long time beforehand. I had a verbal offer through the GTZ for half a year in Nepal. Kathmandu Valley. In a recycling workshop. And as the time got closer, there was a rejection. It wasn't possible for legal reasons.
Work permits are hard to get. Blah blah blah. Okay, I had to reorient myself. Something a bit closer, but I definitely wanted to be in the south. Portugal, Spain. In Portugal, I got another offer. A cooling machine manufacturer, Bizza from Stuttgart.
Job interview, job offer. Then, shortly before the date. The date was September 1, 1991. Another rejection. Then. The third possibility. And that was pure coincidence. Exactly at the moment the rejection came from Portugal, there was a knock at the door. A friend of my older brother asked me what was wrong. I was somehow shaken. I had tears in my eyes.
When he said, "Look, I know someone in southern Spain. You know, I've been living in a house there for two years with another mutual friend. And I can give them a quick call." Then he called Antonio in Spanish. Of course, I didn't understand a word. And he asked something like that. And Antonio said, "Que si, que venga."
And that was our agreement. I didn't know anything more. And then I set off with Annika and her son Niklas, the oldest of us, or actually of hers, and we arrived here and were welcomed warmly. And I... and then came the big surprise, how beautiful it is here. We lived here for half a year. I worked. And before we left here, the thought occurred to me that it would be nice to live here. What could one live off of here? And that's where the idea with the
Solar technology. Because there's so much sun here anyway. That's very logical and pretty much obvious.
Yes, start with that. And on the other hand, it was realized that there is a certain expat scene here. People, emigrants, Germans, Brits, or international people who buy little houses on the coast or inland and need electricity. And heat. So I definitely saw a field of activity there.
And that was the basic idea. And suddenly, I could give my studies some meaning. My studies were mechanical engineering with a focus on vehicle and energy technology. Okay, I'm going into energy technology, and in this case, renewable energy technology. That was the basic idea. And knowing that you can have dreams, but they dissolve very quickly if you don't take the first steps. And the first step would have been,
to have a piece of land, to buy a ruin, something that was affordable. We didn't have money back then, but 10,000 Marks would have been possible.
After some searching, we finally found the house we liked, but it was obviously way too expensive. The one we're in now.
And the selling price of 100,000 Mark was way too high. But it took weeks to get a price from those people, to get a statement. Because it was a purely private relationship with the sellers. And they didn't know. They first had to find out what the market was like. And then we said, okay, we don't have this money, we can forget about it now. And then they offered us again, no, you don't have to pay it all at once, we can do an installment agreement. And that's how we paid for the house with two Euro checks.
600 Mark back then, 300 euros. That was the first small installment. We already had a key and returned to Germany with this private, handwritten contract and explained the idea to our circle, our project. And Annika's parents reacted great and said, okay, we can give you the money for the first installment. So the first installment, it was for three years, every half year, one million pesetas. That means, at the beginning, the first installment was 16,000 Mark. Then we were lucky that the peseta
had lost some value, a loss of about a quarter, so the second installment was only 12,000.
My younger brother lent us the money for the second installment, and since I still had to continue my studies, I wasn't able to earn any money.
And we had already spent our first holidays here, with the first moving belongings and solar material. And then you were open to opportunities. And an opportunity presented itself in the form of sparkling wine. I started a sparkling wine trade. Spanish Cava, transported to Germany, 100 crates, always in the bus, 2 tons. And I distributed it in private circles without charging for it, knowing that New Year's Eve is coming, sparkling wine will be drunk, it's a product that doesn't spoil, you can store it indefinitely. And so a business got rolling. In fact, we used this sparkling wine trade to pay off the remaining installments, and it gave us the security that, yes, we could take the leap.
After graduating in '93, we set off for Spain with two and a half kids, lots of illusions, and many plans. I tackled the solar technology thing, but I think I still made five trips to Germany in the first year with the sparkling wine to finance ourselves. And that all worked out wonderfully. And after one year, I was able to give up the sparkling wine trade because I already had so much work here in solar technology.
A nice story. Emigrating with sparkling wine as the foundation first, to finance it. Were you already a pilot back then? No.
Mentally, yes, in my dreams.
In my dreams, I was maybe born as a pilot. So, even as a child. Everything that flew fascinated me. My first memories, I don't know, as a three-year-old with my parents at the Adriatic, there were these plastic things where a mini-helicopter would detach and fly ten meters into the air. You had to pull a string or something, right? Exactly, pull a string. And off it goes. I was fascinated. How does that work? And then later in southern Germany, the Americans and French were still stationed there back then, and there were regular parachute jumping exercises. Well, for me, I'd cycle 15 kilometers to see the parachutists land and, under certain circumstances, even see a helicopter land.
And I always found that impressive. No, I only got into flying later. It was always a dream. In my head. When I first saw the first hang gliders in the Allgäu during my studies in the 80s, I couldn't believe it.
I thought it was so insane. And just the idea alone. But of course, for me, it was somehow unreachable at first during my studies, and later with a family and moving abroad. There were completely different priorities. There was no room for flying. Or for dedicating yourself to it. To do something. No, that came with flying, that only came later once we had somewhat established ourselves here. And that actually already, for me, gave the feeling of being able to let go, of being able to dedicate myself to something else now. Even the financial freedom, that took about ten years.
Okay, so you...
you said it started in 1991, 1993, but you basically emigrated in the early 90s, '93 or something. That means ten years later, in 2003 or 2005, you started flying. 2005, yeah. How did that happen?
A friend called me. Listen, there's a course in Almeria.
Paragliding. And it costs 300 euros. Do you want to join? I said, oh sure, of course, immediately. Unprompted. Although I've never seen a paraglider up close. I've only seen them in the sky, on the drive to Spain in Annecy, and maybe on TV. The development just passed me by at first. And about this course from a local club in Almeria...
was then the meeting, a theoretical introduction for an hour or two, we got to know each other and immediately made plans for the next day at the practice slope. That was the first time I saw a paraglider in real life.
And I actually managed to do it, somehow after half an hour or an hour
to pull forward and start running. And suddenly, I was flying.
And that was such an immersive experience, actually flying for the first time, something I'd always dreamed about before. And the flight was short. It was hardly anything. It was hardly worth mentioning. I was maybe four or five meters in the air and flew 20 or 30 meters. Two or three seconds. But the experience was great. And I knew immediately, this is my thing. I'm going to keep doing this. And that's how it was. The course was, of course, somehow very amateurish. Here in Almeria, there are no legal regulations. So anyone can go paragliding and anyone can teach someone else how to go paragliding without any law.
It's like riding a bike. And the guys, they were highly motivated, but of course had no experience at all. And hair-raising things happened, and also serious accidents. For example? For example, when the course... We always joked. There were only a dozen flight students. And the first weekend, maybe they forget the practice gliders in my car. And we can then maybe do a bit of ground handling alone. But no one seriously thought to actually ask. Because of course, an instructor who has a bit of a sense of responsibility would immediately say, no, no, no. I'm not letting you play around out there alone. Way too dangerous.
But that's exactly how it was. The flight instructor felt guilty because then came the second weekend. He couldn't make it. There was a wedding or... well. He felt guilty and suddenly he's standing there, sets out two gliders for me and says, practice a bit on your own. Yeah, and that's what we did. Me and a Spaniard.
Hours of ground handling. We feel good. We've got this. We can do it. The wind got stronger. And now we're going over there to a small practice slope. Not my home park. But a bit further. And we're doing a slide. Yeah, and that's where a serious accident happened. The Spaniard, just now.
The wind was too strong. It was gusty. It wasn't nice. And he got levered out. Disappears from my field of vision. And I hadn't recognized the danger. It was a round mountain. Obviously, where at first there was no visible potential for danger. Yes, later it occurred to me on the north side. There, the farmer or the landowner made a path, an access road. And over the access road, an edge was formed. Four to five meters. A vertical wall. And that's where Alberto fell down. And I then recovered him. And took him to the doctor. Or to the Urgenzia.
And he had internal injuries. He was taken very quickly by ambulance to the right hospital, and from there by helicopter to Malaga. A specialist hospital. In the end, he had a liver tear. That's what happened. And that was the end of the course.
And there were other accidents that happened. Less severe. But such that I was the only student left. And by then, I was already so hooked. I bought a used glider. I'd made contacts with the local scene by then. I bought a used Swing Arcus from my former teacher. And then I discovered the local mountain here. And of course, I became cautious because of the potential for danger. I became more aware of everything. Yeah, sure, mistakes aren't forgiven here. Especially not in this steep, rocky environment. And then I slowly hiked up my mountain, flew down, hiked up, flew down.
And after two or three months, I reached the point where I had mastered my home mountain. I could stay at the top. And you can't imagine what a sense of triumph I had. Flying over my own property. Seeing my children. And knowing, this is my mountain. I can fly here many, many more times. And in fact, many thousands of times, when I hiked up this mountain, I...
I flew. I want to talk about your home mountain again in a moment. Before that, about these accidents. You say that basically the whole course almost gave up because of the accidents. Only you kept going. You gave first aid to your friend who had a liver rupture and stuff like that. Why didn't that deter you? You had a family. You had responsibilities. You had children. What kept you going anyway, making you say I want to keep flying, even though I see how dangerous it can be?
I thought it was in my hands. I always have to decide how great the danger is. And if I thought that way, if I always had reservations, I wouldn't be where I am now. My life would have taken a completely different course. I see the danger, I was also a windsurfer. I started that before paragliding. Also potentially dangerous. Always with downwind.
And I did it anyway. I think I can assess what the real danger is. I don't want to do anything stupid. And actually, I'm still here. I'm still flying. I've had accidents later on, but that's what the impression was. It's potentially dangerous. And especially in a rocky, stony environment like we have here, even more so. It's definitely less forgiving than a soft alpine meadow. Or a spruce forest. Landing in the forest, landing in a tree, is far less harmless than somewhere between rocks. So it didn't stop me. No, I was just too fascinated.
And as I said, my life would have turned out completely differently if I were the type of person who would just avoid any potential dangers.
You said that, in the end, you learned on your home mountain, which is right behind your property. Your property, called Casa Rural Cortijo el Campillo, is located a bit outside or well outside of Almeria, Cabo de Gata—actually, it's partly a nature reserve too. And you're on the edge of it and have this mountain. How are we supposed to imagine a home mountain in that location? I mean, is it a 30-meter little hill, or can you hike up 300 meters there? Or what does it look like?
The mountain is maybe an exaggeration. It's a hill. The elevation difference is 50 meters, the horizontal distance is 500 meters, and I'm at the top in 10 minutes. That means back when I still had my office here, my engineering firm, I had a weather station on the computer and I could see, oh, now it might actually be perfect. Let's take a half-hour break now.
And it took about fifteen minutes from the decision to the takeoff. Then I flew for 20 minutes, landed in front of the front door, packed up again, and in total, forty-five minutes had passed. And I'm back, feeling nice and refreshed, and back to my work. So it was excellent.
And also, from the wind situation, the flow situation there, does something always build up during the day through a sea breeze system or something like that, where you could say, actually, from 2 p.m. onwards, my home mountain is always active? So I can always take an hour for lunch and then go for a flight?
No, no. That also depends completely on the season. So in the summer, you can fly during the day, or forget about it around lunchtime. It's no fun. It's just too thermal, too turbulent. There are one or two hours in the morning and then towards early evening. And in the summer, it's just too hot during the day anyway. No one wants to go up the mountains or do any physical activities then. If they do, they go to the sea. But it's not always summer. Most of the time is actually autumn, winter, spring. And in the winter, there are days where you could theoretically fly all day. Now, the mountain is, of course,
or the hill is rather small. And in good conditions, we've certainly been out with four or five gliders at the same time. So, for the size it has, it's actually perfectly positioned. It's perfectly aligned with the wind. Often. Often with laminar, dynamic wind, almost like at the sea.
As I said, it depends on the time of year. And on the daily conditions. Sometimes with invited thermals, though I didn't get more than maybe 100 meters above the start. But it was definitely never boring. Yeah.
I still go up there regularly. I'm not tired of it yet. It's just relaxing.
and it's right on your doorstep. You can just hang out for a bit and then get back to work. Yeah. Today, you're offering this at your property, you've also expanded it to the guesthouse. Or you've had it expanded for a few years now. And you're offering it as a guesthouse for paragliding. How did that happen?
That was also like, a
a story where you get the feeling,
you just can't plan things like that. You just have to be open to opportunities and seize them when they come. In that case, it was 2008. In 2008, I was already—we had already been here for 13, 15 years, 15 years of solar technology. In those 15 years, I had had a huge number of customers by then, private customers. I sold and installed electricity and heat for them. That means if it fails, electricity and heat, then it's always an emergency.
And we lived quite well, I earned well, but I couldn't get away from here. I was indispensable.
Out of a sense of responsibility for my clients. And I saw that it's a cycle. How can I get out of that again? Or the desire, I want to get out of that again. Yeah, I can't keep looking for new clients until the end of my life, and then with every project, you're obligated to provide warranty service for at least five years. How do I get out of that? That was one reason. Then it was foreseeable, exactly in 2008, the economic crisis hits. Here in Spain, it was a construction crisis and no more interesting projects came in. I was quite spoiled. My radius of action kept getting smaller. I had no advertising at all, but people came to me and my order books were full.
And suddenly I noticed, it's changing. Nothing interesting is coming in anymore. So times are going to change. I'd have to expand my radius again. And in the same year, we had the guesthouse, which is actually Annika's, my wife's, project. She managed the whole thing. And we had opened. And then I sat on the terrace and thought to myself, yeah, it's nice, in the high season everything is full, but the off-season, which is at least three to four times as long, how could we get people? And that's where the idea came from, aha, I have the local mountain here. It could be interesting for paraglider groups,
for schools. Let's give it a try. On the same evening. It was a frustration, it was. Actually.
Ten emails, the early internet. It was all new. We had an internet connection. It was very slow. But I only find twelve flight schools, write an email. We have a guesthouse here, ideal for groups of up to twelve people. We have a small local mountain. I'm a pilot myself. I can take you to the flight areas. Yes, you can take a look at it. And it didn't take long. A few days. A response already came from Papillon, Germany's largest flight school. Yes, they are interested. They'll send a group over. Yes, and that was, of course, somehow a huge success with, where
I thought, that can't be a coincidence. Then I started researching. Yeah, how do the flight schools do it? Well, of course, they can't work in Germany during the winter. They either close down or offer guided flight travel. It was foreseeable that the common destinations, like here in Spain, Algodonales or Almunieca, were already partially full at that time and people were looking for new areas. Only I wasn't that far along yet. I had to—I could only devote myself to the topic to a limited extent, but the idea was born in 2008 and it took until 2012 for that idea to actually be fully implemented. I was slow, I gradually freed myself from the
solar technology business and was able to found Cabo Activo, the active tourism company, so that the whole thing could be operated officially and legally. And then I started doing proper advertising and offering it, and actually, the groups started coming in 2012. In 2013, I think there were already seven groups, and it was relatively easy to keep getting groups whenever it was necessary.
What does this area around Almeria have to offer for paragliding, besides your home mountain? The pictures you see, that's the classic Mar de Plastico—the sea of plastic from all those greenhouses where half of Europe gets its tomatoes and all that—it's not exactly visually appealing at first glance. No. Where can you fly nicely in that area then? Yes,
there are beautiful flying areas. So, look, this Mar de Plastico, yeah, that's a world you have to deal with. But ultimately, it's maybe about five to ten percent of the province of Almeria, yeah, and that's what shapes the image. But it's mainly south of Almeria and actually, I try to avoid that area if possible. There are still some greenhouses here, but not on that scale. Then we have wonderful flying areas inland. The province of Almeria is relatively large and quite pristine inland. Completely different from Malaga, yeah, where everything is built up and developed all the way into the hinterland.
Almeria has several small mountain ranges here that are absolutely original, pristine. And there are flight areas, at least half a dozen, where you don't see a single piece of plastic. There are other areas, yeah, as I said, I try to avoid those. I don't find them beautiful. The eye doesn't fly. For me, it's important that the surroundings have to fit somehow. And we have great, beautiful flight areas. Really. With great views and no plastic.
Which one would you describe as the most beautiful flying area in your area? The most beautiful in terms of landscape.
is Eremita. Eremita, or maybe it's sometimes known as Alicun. The real name is Huessicha, but that's such a tongue twister that most people can't get it right.
That's nice, because from there you have a view of the Tavernas desert. Everyone knows the Tavernas desert from the Spaghetti Westerns or Deliverance or Indiana Jones. In any case, it's an extraordinary area that's more like Arizona. Although I was here in Arizona once.
You know it from the movies. You know the movies too. Yes, exactly. So there's a great diversity. Sierra de Gado, Sierra Filabre, Sierra La Mia, Sierra Nevada—all meet there. So, more or less, five mountain ranges converging. And with a lot of diversity. This valley, down below the Ermita, there's the Andarax river. Yes, it's a completely different world from here. Fundamentally different from here on the coast. Yes, there's water, there are autumn colors, there are trees and spruce and pine forests.
Everything is right nearby. It's incredible how different the microclimates are here.
can be. But aren't they all simple take-off and landing sites? Because you say there's a lot of rock and you have to be careful. Yes, well
Let's just say, the perfectly perfect flying area doesn't exist here. No, there's always either the launch site is a bit difficult or the landing is a bit difficult.
But it's actually all fine, as long as you're somehow careful and prudent, it's really no problem. I mean, I've had so many, so many pilots here now.
Minor accidents have happened. Thank God, nothing serious. And afterwards, people are grateful because the ground effect is, of course, very large when the conditions are a bit more difficult. You have to approach the matter carefully, consciously, deliberately.
But we have beautiful flying areas here. We can't compete with cross-country flight areas. We have a cross-country flight area, but that's along the Mar de Clastigo and it's not so nice to look at. Not so nice to look at, no. But what do people want? Most of them, well, there are differences now. Our pilots, and we have many repeat visitors who come, or there are other pilots who want their vacation, they want to fly, fly, fly. Yes, nothing else. And as high as possible, as far as possible, they might be out of place here. You have to be aware of that in advance, I'm sort of more...
Tell the people, listen, cross-country flights and record flights—you can't compare those to Algonales.
This is more of a mixed vacation. You fly in the morning or afternoon, and maybe hit the beach in between. For half the year, you can definitely go swimming or snorkeling, which is a huge draw. And when you can't swim anymore, you can certainly go hiking. So the area is very versatile and, yeah, it's a mixed vacation. It's also ideal for couples, for example, if he flies and she doesn't, or vice versa. They can complement each other perfectly. In Las Negras, for instance, you can fly while someone down below swims in the sea.
That's a soaring spot near you. That's a soaring spot,
Exactly. Now you always have these flight groups and have basically become a pilot professionally in a way. How have you managed to keep that fascination for flying?
It just happened that way. The fascination is there and it stays. It doesn't cool down. Not significantly. I still get my heart racing when I go out for a flight. I still have these great feelings when I'm up in the air. What kind of feelings are they? Yeah, feelings of freedom.
Feelings of freedom? It's just the act of flying. I don't know how to describe it, but every pilot knows that. It's beautiful, taking off. Yeah, leaving everything behind. Still do. Maybe I don't fly quite as much anymore, and not at every opportunity. Only in good conditions. But in principle, the passion for flying hasn't faded. It's not the jadedness I could see in some flight instructors, for example, who come here with gliders and show no signs of passion for flying at all, but just hang on the walkie-talkie supervising their students.
Has this flying in your area, has it changed over the years? I mean, do you feel something like climate change or other types of change where you'd say you have to approach flying differently today? I can't really judge that specifically right now.
I don't think so. There are always,
no, that the thermals are somehow more brutal now than they used to be. I can't really confirm that myself. There were already tricky days at the beginning
dangerous situations, and now too. And like I said, when it's really hot in the summer, you shouldn't think about flying during the day. Except on the coast in Las Negras. There, it's always possible, of course. When the wind comes from the sea and is laminar, it's obviously great. But I can't say that I feel any kind of change there right now. Maybe not enough time has passed. 20 years.
What about flying? What about your kids? Did you pass on your passion for flying to them? Did they inherit it somehow? Or did they watch you fly and say, "Dad is always hanging out on the mountain? That's actually kind of annoying." And they turned to something completely different. Yeah, I think the last one is their thing.
I didn't indoctrinate them, not excessively. Of course, I tried to involve them. They all flew with me in tandem. I even hooked them up on the practice slope at times. And I tried to figure out for myself how much interest in flying they actually had. But their reaction, compared to mine, was pretty mild. And then I was also aware that the kids probably always need a bit of their own space, or that it's better if they follow their own path, do their own hobbies, their own things. And in that case, my boys,
they discovered wave flying. They became passionate wave surfers. So they aren't pilots, there are no active pilots among them. Although I don't want to rule out that this could change at some point down the line. But as I said,
that hot-blooded passion I felt in myself, you won't find that in my children.
You're 67 now.
How much longer do you want to fly?
Oh, as long as I can somehow manage it. I'm thinking of my home mountain.
I'll still be doing that in ten years. I don't know. I don't want to make a statement. I'm happy. I'm doing well. I'm healthy. I still feel hardly restricted at all. And I'm going to keep doing it.
Here at the home mountain and elsewhere. I already mentioned that I've started a new project that also allows for flying into old age, which is over there on Gran Canaria. What do you do there? On Gran Canaria, I discovered the flight area that I've always been looking for here—namely for tandem flights—and never found because of uncertain weather conditions and dangerous launch sites. And on Gran Canaria, I found it. Laminar sea breeze, constant conditions. For three-quarters of the year, the northeast passat blows. Almost every day, the weather is the same.
Then there's the logistics near the capital, Las Palmas. 250 meters above sea level. The cliffs. The drive is easy. Completely open launch sites. And I've started something there. A subsidiary of Coveractivo. I thought, I have the company, I have the insurance. I want to try this. Also, perhaps with the fact that I have two sons there, to have a reason to be there. And also, in case the sons eventually come back to flying later on, so that they have a field of activity there too. And of course, because it can be economically interesting.
It's not there yet. I've done a balance sheet of 200 flights so far. But the feedback is, of course, excellent. You can see it in the bookings, in the reviews on the platforms. And it's really fun. That's another thing. So we basically have two places where we live now. That's Las Palmas, Gran Canaria. And here in our Cotijuel Campillo. Or at least, that's the goal for the next few years.
That means you'll be commuting with your wife every now and then, saying, "If we don't have a group, we'll fly to Las Palmas and work there or just enjoy it there. And if we do have a group, we'll fly back to Almeria and look after the group coming to our guesthouse." Exactly, like that.
That's the idea. So here, we do the work ourselves—looking after the groups. While in Las Palmas, I only supervise and don't fly myself. I have local pilots there and actually want to give them those few flights because I want to tie them to me or to the company. The beginning is always the hardest. It's not yet so much work that people would change their lives or quit their jobs. But I'm on my way there. Like I said, it's a lot of fun. It's a great thing. And it's a new topic. Plus, we got ourselves a sailboat because it's located in the port of Las Palmas.
We also discovered sailing. So...
a very wind-oriented period of your life is approaching. You can either go sailing or paragliding, or continue to manage and build a tandem business. Yes. Wonderful, Martin. Thank you for your story. One gets a bit of an impression of how someone from Germany ends up in Spain through many coincidences, builds a really great life there, and eventually gets into flying. In exciting ways, too. For those who might feel like coming to Almeria sometime to go flying, I'll of course provide the corresponding links to Cabo Activo or Cortijo El Campillo and such in the show notes and will provide further details there.
Back then, I was also with you years ago, and I was fascinated by the fact that at one launch site, for example, the landing field is practically in a film set where you come down and you still have these Western backdrops—and I think there's something Egyptian there too—and stuff like that, where you basically land in between it all and can look at everything like some kind of open-air museum. I found that very fascinating back then too. This is the most important flight area here.
Sierra Almeria. That's the central area and where it's most, or rather easiest, to fly. Almost always. It's very sheltered. It's incredible. For example, there can be a really strong, almost storm-force wind by the sea. And 20 kilometers back inland, Sierra Almeria is calm. You can fly beautifully there. And the scenery, as you said, is of course unique. Everyone knows the scenery. A lot of car commercials have been filmed there. Whenever the advertising folks need an exotic backdrop, they come here.
Then I wish you a great summer, a wonderful time with the gliders, and thanks for this interesting conversation. Thank you so much, Lucia. Do come back again sometime.
That was episode 164 of Podz-Glidz. If you enjoyed this story from the cosmos of paragliding, then please recommend Podz-Glidz. Tell your flying friends about it or leave a comment on Luglite, Soundcloud, Spotify, iTunes, or whereverver you listen to the podcast. And if you want to do something nice for me personally, then become a supporter of Podz-Glidz and the paragliding blog Lu-Glidz. As a freelance journalist, I put a lot of time, work, and also costs into these projects. In order for me to continue doing this so professionally, independently, and ad-free, I need your support. On my homepage www.Lu-Glidz.blogspot.com, there is a Support page. There you will find all the necessary information and links to give me a financial hand.
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