Before I flew in my first competition, I always thought to myself, for God's sake, who does that voluntarily? You all must be out of your minds somehow. Why? You sit around here all day, then you wait to be allowed to take off with 30 kilos of ballast, then you slave away out there, and then you land somewhere outside. The retrieve takes forever, it's all just totally pointless, and why does anyone do it? Now that I've flown in my own competition, I can understand it and I also understand that it's actually really fun.
Podz-Glidz, the Lu-Glidz podcast.
Stories from the cosmos of paragliding.
Today with Anna Berger. And I am Lucian Haas.
When I invite people onto the podcast, in many cases it's already quite clear to me beforehand what the conversation will lead to. The topic is outlined, and it's just a matter of spinning a common thread with interesting cases, questions, and follow-ups. My guest for this episode breaks that mold. With Anna Berger, there's immediately a whole range of curious topics and stories. For example, she is the social media officer for the Pyrogliding World Cup and travels around the world with the PWC entourage. She runs a very successful private Instagram channel about paragliding with BiniBani. Her flying dog Skadi already has almost 500 followers too.
Before every flight, Anna struggles with a fear of failure, yet she still celebrates successes in Hike & Fly and XC competition. And even though she lives on the edge of the Bavarian Wall, the 28-year-old German is starting as the only woman for the North Macedonian national team. So, things are going to be colorful in this episode 182 of Podz-Glidz. I don't want to give anything away here. I just want to wish you some good entertainment.
I can only present these kinds of special conversations in Podz-Glidz because there are sponsors who financially support my work on the podcast and blog. Join in. You can find all the necessary information about this on the Gleitschirm-Blog Lu-Glidz, specifically on the Förder page.
Skadi or Skady, I don't even know how it's pronounced. Skadi. Skadi, Skadi the Flying Dog. That's an Instagram account for your dog.
Exactly. The one flying with you.
works. And he has nearly 450 followers. Tell me the story of how that happened. Or how do you come up with the idea of opening an Instagram account for a dog, a flying dog?
How do you come up with the idea? Well, I think I was just incredibly bored. And in the beginning, I only ever posted the really stupidest photos of her that I somehow had. I didn't fly with her for the first few months. I've only had the dog since October. And yeah, I just kept posting some funny photos of her. And then at some point I thought, oh come on, now that she's flying, I can practically post her flying content. And yeah, now she's there, the flying dog.
And what kind of feedback do you get on that? I mean, does Skadi have fans?
Well, I don't think she has any fans right now, except for my mom and my family.
But
at least 450 followers, so there are already a few people there. Yeah, it
It's also growing. I think in the paragliding scene itself, it's relatively common now—well, not normal—for people to fly with their dogs. But for outsiders, I think seeing someone fly a dog is still something special.
How do you actually come up with the idea of wanting to go flying with your dog?
I think that, fundamentally, it's not a nice experience for a dog. But the alternative is that they have to stay at home for four or five hours if you're doing some kind of hike and fly. And then it's nicer for them if they can come along, hike up the mountain, and be there for that. And then there are those ten minutes where you fly down. Yes, of course that's stressful for them, but it's kept to a minimum. And I think the added value of the hiking and all that just balances it out. And yeah, I don't think people really do it for the pleasure of it itself. So, not because of the flying, but because of the hiking and everything else around it.
I have a friend who also flies with her dog. And she says that since she started flying with him—I think it's a female dog, but I don't know exactly—since she started flying with the dog, the dog likes riding in the car with her, which he didn't do before, because he apparently knows it's time to go flying again and he apparently enjoys that in some way. I thought maybe because it's the lesser of two evils, the car ride.
No, I mean, before he probably wouldn't even get into the car, like he didn't want to get in at all. But if he notices, oh, there's the glider in the back, we're probably going flying, then he or she jumps into the car with more enthusiasm and says, wonderful, I'm coming along.
Yeah, I think most dogs just simply like being with their owner and, yeah, just like experiencing things in general. Mhm. Then, yeah.
I read that you started paragliding because you wanted to go flying with a dog.
Yeah. But that was quite a while ago. Yeah, I think I was 19 or 20. I saw this video on YouTube of someone paragliding with their dog. And there's no one in my family who has ever gone paragliding. I don't have any connection to it at all, really. And I thought it was so funny and thought to myself, oh, that would be so cool if I could hike with my dog and then fly down. And I somehow had the idea that it would just be that easy. I then signed up for an introductory course and found out very quickly during that course that paragliding with the dog wouldn't happen that quickly. Because, yeah, for one, I obviously acted like a total idiot at the beginning and was just happy if I survived myself. Mhm. And then I wanted to drag the dog into the mess as well, so to speak.
And yeah, the dog was also getting relatively old at some point, had cancer too, and then that was also kind of out of the picture. But, yeah. Yeah, since then it's been... I mean, it was sort of the trigger for how I even came up with the idea of flying in the first place. Because where I grew up now, there isn't really much that would expose you to paragliding that much.
You're from the Bavarian Forest, I think, right?
Exactly. So yeah, just before Deckendorf—well, Hausstein might mean something to some people. But yeah, the paragliding scene isn't that big there, and you don't see it every day. And then you get the idea, oh, I could try that out too.
That means you wanted to fly with a dog, but you didn't get into flying with a dog until now, with your current female dog. Yeah. But you did get into paragliding anyway. Yeah. And if I remember correctly, that really hooked you.
Yeah, I can still remember the introductory course. When I was taking off, my first five attempts were a complete disaster—I mean, you can't even call it taking off. Mhm. But every time, I'd get thrown into the mud and stuff, and I thought to myself, this is never going to work. And then, when it finally worked for the first time, from that point on, very little went wrong, and I just couldn't stop doing it and ended up getting really hooked on it.
That's when you basically flipped a switch.
Yeah. So it just kind of clicked and then… Yeah. Yeah, it was
that's how it was.
What fascinates you, or what fascinated you back then—maybe that's changed a bit over time—but what was it about the experience of flying that fascinated you so much that you said, wow, I don't want to stop doing this at all, or I just can't quit, and I dedicate so much time to it?
I think what I love most about flying is this solitude in the air. Like, the fact that in a way, you're in a different world, one that somehow feels like another world. I think it's a very special experience because you're partly cut off from the rest of the world; you can't just be approached by someone, no one is just going to come around the corner or... Yeah, it's just somehow its own world up there, where you're so peaceful and so far away from everything, just so far away from reality somehow.
So, flying is basically an escape for you?
Yes. I mean...
An escape from reality?
I think it's basically just a way to switch off, and just, yeah, peace sounds so stupid, but yeah, it's very peaceful, just a way to balance out everyday life.
Can this switching off become addictive? Because I mean, on your Insta account—you have your own Insta account, BieniBani—and it says prominently at the top, "addicted to flying." So I'm like, "I'm addicted to flying," sort of. Yeah. So, can this switching off become addictive?
So I think I was very addicted to it for a long time. Right now, I don't think I'm quite as into it anymore. But I think you're more chasing this success or some kind of illusion. Like, at the very beginning when I started flying, it was like, at some point, I don't know, at some point I'll fly a C-glider, at some point I'll fly a D-glider, or always chasing this, I don't know, something like that, or having this illusion that you could achieve something. Or yeah, if you then—I was actually quite good at some point, by some coincidence—and then that gives you this validation and you want more and more and more, and you end up chasing it so much.
And only then, I don't know, like the last thing, a year or so, one or two years, where I started to notice a bit that you're just chasing an illusion that doesn't actually exist. And yeah, I'm more like, currently, more into just flying for the fun of it, enjoying it more, and no longer thinking to myself, oh, someday I could, I don't know, turn off the X. Win or I don't know, win which competition, because if I think it through, I think to myself, well, then I win it and then nothing else changes.
But if I look at it that way with you, you have to be somewhat ambitious, because you're telling me so wonderfully, "Yeah, I want to have these flight experiences," and I don't really have those goals anymore. At the same time, you participate in competitions; you've taken part in a whole series of Hike-and-Fly competitions and been quite successful. You were at several prominent ones—not Red Bull X-Alps, but Born to Fly and what's the other one, around Mont Blanc and stuff like that—where you came in second each time. Then last year, I think, you also did a few XC competitions and were second among the women each time, so already quite successful, which for me is always a sign: okay, if you're flying that far forward, there must probably be some form of ambition there.
Or would you say, no, I'm only so successful because I'm having fun?
No, I don't think so. I mean, I do think that it's somehow... I mean, I'm very ambitious. So what does very ambitious mean? I'm very... I'm very easily provoked into competition or I very quickly fall into a competition or a fight mode, not right now, but.
A mode of wanting to measure yourself, like that?
Yeah, it's not actually about wanting to compete. It's more about wanting to avoid being the worst.
Like, I mean, even with competitions, I get incredibly nervous beforehand and have these huge fears of failure, I'm just totally in panic mode somehow.
And there's actually nothing, I don't really want to know how good I am compared to others now, but I somehow want to prove that I'm not worse than anyone else. Or I sign up for the competition. I sign up for the competition and then I'm in that situation and then I have to, I mean, I have to get through it somehow and I don't know, I have four brothers, I grew up with four brothers, so it's just.
You always had to assert yourself somehow.
Yes, I thought that
I did. And you
couldn't be worse
be worse than the brothers, right? So at least somehow, at most the second worst or the second weakest or whatever. So
to always be the strongest and just keep pushing through, and yeah, I can do that in competition, I don't know, I don't get scared. So when I'm flying myself, I think I get scared more often, but in competition not at all. I'm like, yeah, what does that mean, not focused, but I know
no, the focus is so much on, yeah, what's happening in the air, what are the others doing, how can I gain altitude here or whatever, that I don't back down at all or think to myself, oh, I'm not flying into that thing back there because who knows what the air is doing, but rather I'm more of a risk-taker.
But in that moment, you don't even think about the risk. You just follow, there's a group or whatever, I follow them, and then afterwards I realize, hey, if I had been out there alone, I might have been scared at that point, and now I've seen that it actually works perfectly.
I think just having others around you gives you a sense of security, because you can see what the air is like, more or less. And yeah. Also, races in general are often relatively well-controlled, and there aren't such extreme dangers—I mean, you don't just put a turnpoint in the biggest lee or anything.
if 20 other pilots who are good are flying ahead of me and flying in a certain direction, then you can already assume to some extent that they're not going to throw themselves to their deaths. But it's also just that when you're flying alone and it's very turbulent around you, you often question things, like, where is that coming from now, or you become insecure—am I making the right decision to be here now, or am I overlooking something? And if you're out in the competition with many other people, that gives you the security, yeah, okay, everyone else is doing it, so it's fine; I can see around me that it's fine right now, which of course carries other dangers, like just following others so closely.
It kind of works that way, but yeah, you can just focus more on the competition itself and aren't as preoccupied with, I don't know, the wind right now, or what kind of dangers you're putting yourself in.
Does it make you feel anxious, if I'm hearing you correctly, when you're out alone because you can't see the air and stuff like that, whereas when you're in a competition with 20, 30, 50, 80 people? When you're out with other people, depending on how they're spread out, you can see quite a lot of what's actually going on in the air around you, because of course you have all the others—you have more than just your own air buoy, so you can see where it's rising, where it's going down, where it's pocketing, and where you maybe shouldn't fly.
I think when you're out alone, it's harder to judge how it actually feels for yourself; it often feels much more dramatic than it actually is. But when you're flying with 20 other people around you and you see that their glider isn't completely collapsing and everyone seems relatively calm, that just gives you security, making you think, oh, okay, then it's probably not that bad for me right now either, it's just my nerves or it feels worse than it is. And when you're out alone, I think you get into that mindset faster, like, oh shit, it's totally turbulent here. I shouldn't actually be in the lee right now, or am I overlooking a thunderstorm cell moving in, or am I missing something else?
And yeah, I think that kind of group thinking is often reassuring.
Would you recommend that people who might be a bit afraid of flying join a competition, because they might develop a different perspective on flying that involves less fear?
I don't think it has to be a competition, I mean, competition too, yes, but...
Basically, flying with larger groups helps a lot, I think, because you can coordinate with each other via radio connections or something. How is it for you guys right now? Or is it just me? And with flights, I think it's also quite practical to get a bit of feedback on how others around me are perceiving me right now.
That might help you move forward, because you can also move past your own perceived—whatever the reason—realistic... meaningful or something like that limits, just to realize, hey, this isn't actually a limit, it's only in my head.
Yes, I think fear is fundamentally very good, even in aviation, because it provides you with information or is supposed to protect you yourself. So it's a good mechanism to have, but in some ways, it's not always appropriate, or it's irrational. And in those cases, it's good if you can push past it. And not let it get to you so much or let it limit you. And I think that in group situations, it helps a lot to be able to reflect better on whether the fear is appropriate right now or if you can just let it go.
Well, you also said earlier that you have fears of failure every now and then in the form of, like, I don't want to be the last one or something. Do you have this form of fear of failure even when you're out alone? I mean, in what proportion then? Always? Or is it something that's typical of competition, where you'd say, okay, when I go flying alone, I'm afraid of the air, but during the competition, I'm afraid of the ranking?
Well, for me, it's actually always reduced to some kind of performance thoughts. I talked about that with Anja, my mental coach, for a long time. It's just, I don't know, I can fly. Then someone starts heckling me and I think to myself, Anna, you failure, this can't be happening. You've been flying way longer than that person probably, and this is just really embarrassing and shitty. And sometimes I'd go to land and then cry at the landing field, just because someone heckled me or because I had a shitty start and I was just so embarrassed by it. And yeah, I worked on it a lot to make it better, because it's also kind of ridiculous.
How did the mental coach, Anja—you mentioned her—how did she help you with that, or what tips, tricks, or ways of thinking did she open up for you to say, hey, I don't always have to see myself so critically?
I think that it's often very helpful just to say it out loud, to hear how ridiculous it actually is right now. And because... yeah, it has so many different, well, how do you say, so many different facets and levels that it can't really be solved with a strategy or anything like that. But what I think helps a lot is that I've also visualized what it's actually about for me. Like, what is my goal actually? And if I set a goal now, then I can only fail if I haven't reached this goal. And not just constantly comparing myself to the immeasurable or with...
Comparing yourself to levels where you actually can't or shouldn't compare yourself, or I don't know, if I go flying on a nice Sunday and tell myself I just want to do one glider here or just have a nice day somehow. And then I land, look at XContest, and compare myself to those who flew 300 kilometers. Then it's, well, that's a totally unfair comparison too. And I did that for a long time. I mean, I thought, today I actually just want one highlight. I can do some flying with a small glider, land, then somehow see that a few people are doing cross-country, and I'm still so stupid that I check XContest to see what's going on right now. And then I think to myself, Anna, now you've done it again today, you didn't go cross-country, you should have looked at it properly beforehand, you should have gone cross-country today.
And what kind of failure are you, that you didn't have the guts to go cross-country today? And yeah, that's just irrational and doesn't achieve anything at all.
When it was, let's say, more extreme for you for a while than it is today, were there moments where you maybe even thought about quitting paragliding, like, I'm too bad at it or it causes me too many... I have to cry too often when I've landed or whatever, it gives me too many bad feelings. Even if the high was there in the air just then, afterwards it always drags me down.
I never actually thought about giving up, but I often thought to myself, "Yeah, what can I do now to get even better? I have to get better." So, I basically just talked myself down and beat myself up, finding reasons or things regarding how I could improve or stuff like that. But giving up was never really an option.
And what did you do then to get better?
Nothing at all. You just got better. Or you were
...always been good, you just always talked yourself down, maybe that's why.
Yeah, I think it's more... I think it makes you better if you clear your head a bit and just let go of this pressure for a moment, and also the realization that it wasn't actually my abilities themselves that made me feel bad, but just some ideas I'd pulled from somewhere else. Because there was never actually a reason. And for me to think I'm bad, and "bad" is also something you have to compare it to. Compared to Kriegel Maurer, yeah, bad, but now compared to most other people or someone who doesn't fly at all, I'm actually really good. So, I think you have to set yourself some more realistic goals and not compare yourself to the best in the sport who have been doing this for 30 years.
And yes.
Were there any situations, even in competition, where that huge worry you sometimes have—that I'm the last one, that I could fail, or something like that—actually came true? Or has it always been the case in practice that these fears of failure are actually completely, completely off-base and irrelevant? Because in the end, you're actually good.
It was mostly off the mark, actually. I mean, of course I've ended up outside before, it's not like that. I've also made real mistakes. So, in the XC competitions, there were maybe two tasks where I made a mistake. Of course, that was something where I thought, oh man, now I've finally been able to prove that I'm really as bad as I thought I was.
But yeah, if you mess up one out of, I don't know, five tasks, then it's not really that big of a drama. But the next day, of course, I'm standing at the start and thinking, but today, now probably.
Today I'll land on the outside or whatever, no matter how good I actually was in the competition, every time I thought to myself, today is the day I fail.
So eventually the others will realize that you're not actually that good. It was all just a bluff until then.
Yeah, so also accepting compliments even then, because those were my first three competitions and I won the first two. And then accepting it if someone said, "Yeah, you did well." How was it immediately? No. It was just luck. So what else could it be? And I was practically expecting to crash every single day.
I mean, this "just luck" thing you had—if I see that correctly and have done my research, you're now ranked 17th in the women's world ranking. So, you're already wonderfully in the top 20. And you really can't think about it that way. I'd say you got there only by luck.
For a while, I thought to myself that everyone else just had really bad luck.
But yeah, I'm really happy about it and I'm really proud of it. But a part of me is also just waiting for things to go downhill and for it not to go so well anymore. For the next competitions I've signed up for, of course I hope it goes well again. But yeah, this self-doubt in me is more like it's saying, yeah, because this year it's not going to go so well anymore.
If you look at this world ranking, there's an interesting entry under the nation category for you. It doesn't say Germany, it says North Macedonia. How does it happen that you fly for North Macedonia in competitions?
Those were my colleagues at the World Cup. That's how it is. Most of them are from North Macedonia. And because of that, I've always had a lot of contact with the North Macedonians, including the pilots from there. When you just sit together in the evenings often. At some point, we were sitting together and telling stories about the World Championships, about the European Championships. And they were like, yeah, it's such a shame because they don't have a woman. And because of that, they always lose a ranking, so practically that plus-1 ranking is lost. And I was like, yeah, yeah, well, if you ever need someone, then... just let me know. I had never flown an XC competition at that point and thought to myself, yeah, come on, I mean... who would want me on the team? You'd have to be completely crazy. And then they were like, yeah, it would actually be quite funny.
And then we kept talking about it more and more. And at some point they were like, yeah, do you maybe want to try to see if I can meet the requirements and join the team? Which we then actually managed to do. And I got the Macedonian sports license and have been flying for North Macedonia ever since.
And that was, as I said, pretty successful. And the North Macedonians are probably happy that they now have a woman at world ranking spot 17. And I saw that you've also qualified for the World—no, not the World, the European Championship this summer. Will you be flying with them?
Yes, she's also in North Macedonia, in Kruševac. Practically a home game.
And I'm already looking forward to it. And of course, for me... for me it's also a mega cool opportunity, because by switching countries I also get the chance to fly with them. Because it's not a given right now. Especially in Germany, it's a bit harder. There are only other women who are very good at it.
And yeah, exactly, I'm looking forward to it.
If you could choose now, or once you're successful enough to say you're just as good as the other German women, or better, or whatever—would you rather fly for Macedonia or would you rather fly for Germany? Is there some kind of emotional connection where you'd say, "Well, okay, I'll fly with them"? It was more of a joke when it started, and now I'm just in it. But actually, I'd prefer to be competing under the German flag.
I have to say, I'm very grateful to the Macedonians for believing in me from the start and supporting me like that. And yes, they've shown a lot of skill too. And I don't actually want to switch back now, because, well, I really appreciate that they said, "Yes, we see the potential and we believe in it," and supported me like that without any prior competition experience. So I don't actually plan on switching back, and it's not that easy anyway.
Are there no female pilots in North Macedonia, I mean female pilots? There are probably women in aviation, but...
Yes, well, there are some. A few who fly, but then they're just cross-country pilots or... So, right now, there's no one with competition ambitions, yeah. It's also a very small country, so...
That means you're filling a wonderful gap there. Yes. You said you got there by working with the many Macedonians at the Paragliding World Cup. But you haven't explained or told us yet, how do you get to the Paragliding World Cup? Yes. That you're the social media person, but how did it come about that you took on such a job?
A buddy of mine is on the World Cup committee, and a few years ago they decided they wanted to do more social media or basically engage with the newer media, so they were looking for someone. He knew that I actually have quite a bit of experience in that area, so I just applied normally, sent over my application, and then I got the job.
What are the responsibilities of a social media officer then?
So I go to all the competitions, like the World Cups, there are about six of those a year, and I do the social media, take some of the photos, sometimes I fly along too and take aerial shots, and I try to portray it as live as possible. I do interviews, then I write the daily reports, you know, those newsletters that go out.
and just try to convey what's happening there as well as possible to the outside world.
Six PWCs, I think they're always ten days long, and with travel and getting back, you're probably on the road for 14 days each time.
Yes, about ten days. We usually arrive a day or two before the competition and then travel back a day later.
So you're traveling the world for just twelve weeks a year, only for the PWC?
Yeah, roughly, yeah.
Is it great or is it stressful?
So I had a bit of a burnout last year, because it does often get quite backed up in the summer and then there's so much to do and you're basically never at home. But basically, it's also very nice, of course, and it's always the same people and in a way it's a bit like family too, because it's already the pilot. And it repeats over and over again, and the colleagues too. And yet, it really is a privilege to be allowed to do a job like this.
And can you just fill it in completely freely, basically however you like? I mean, can you decide completely freely what you actually want to do there? So you're basically also doing the media strategy, or is there actually something prescribed by the PWC board for what you have to deliver per task, per... competition or something like that? Like at least ten posts a day or per week or whatever?
So, exactly—I mean, there isn't anyone on the World Cup committee right now who would be extremely well-versed in social media. But of course, in principle, the World Cup committee—those are practically elected pilots who run the committee. They are basically my employers or my bosses. And if they want something, then I have to do it. But otherwise, it's a voluntary position they hold. No one there has the time to sit down every day during the competition to discuss with me how to conduct which interview or...
Yeah, so you actually have quite a bit of creative freedom.
You said they do it as volunteers. But you're not a volunteer, so you
get paid for it. Exactly, there are a few positions in the World Cup that are paid. And those include, let's say, the workers, like the president, the scorer, then the Retrieve Manager, and then Laura, the secretary, and me. Exactly, and those are practically the paid positions, because no one can afford to volunteer for six or twelve weeks a year for free now.
Yeah. I don't have to give exact figures, but is it still a reasonably well-paid job, or is it something where you'd say, yeah, I'm young, I still want to see a lot of the world, this is a nice opportunity for that, but in the long run, I'd have to say it doesn't really pay off. At some point, I'll have seen all the classic PWC spots in the world; after a few years, I'll have seen them all and checked them off, then someone else can gladly take over.
So I don't think anyone does it for the money. It's not... I mean, you're not living on the edge of poverty. In principle, it just replaces a normal job for the week you have. I don't know if I'm allowed to say publicly what you earn. I think it's also publicly accessible, but each of us gets practically, so for one World Cup, 1,200 euros, and then you still have to set aside taxes.
And exactly, so that's also a chosen budget that the World Cup pilots select. And exactly, so that's also quite publicly accessible.
Plus probably the expenses for everyone, the flights you have to take to get there and stuff like that. Yeah,
Of course. Otherwise, you'd end up in the red if you had to pay for the flights yourself.
In the past, regarding the PWC media coverage, there were always long YouTube videos, sometimes from every day. There was the Belgian, Philipp Bröers, who always flew along and presented it very epically. Sometimes they were really beautiful videos. And now it's been reduced to these actually short social media snippets. I know that some people regret a bit that Philipp doesn't do that anymore. How is that seen within the framework of the PWC itself? Do you really see that as the future, that these short social media snippets are actually the way to go?
That's always a big discussion, actually, because there are basically two camps. On one side, there are those who would like to have those long, long videos again, and then there are many who say, no, it was actually unnecessary or it's difficult nowadays to get people to watch such long content because everything is so short-lived and few people take the time to watch longer videos anymore. And then, of course, it's a question of budget, because a videographer would be very expensive if you have a professional, and I think Philipp... he did it more for the fun of it.
And then, you just have to enjoy going to these World Cups, being part of the community somehow. And as for the money, as I said, I don't think anyone does it for that. And that's also why it's difficult to find someone who would take that on, I think.
When you're at a PWC like that—the last one was in India, I think, Panshgani—what does a day look like for you? I mean, how do you approach a day like that? You know, today is a task. What do I look for as a social media officer? I mean, not what will my role be, that's probably defined, but what do I pick out for a day like that? What do you do?
So in the morning, it starts, of course, when the shuttles drive to the launch site. That means, usually around 8 a.m. or so, you're standing there ready to head to the launch site. Then, depending on the situation, it takes about an hour to get to the launch site. Then you walk around a bit. I take a few photos, talk to the pilots, and wait for the briefing. Then I make a post about what the weather is like right now.
and I basically announce publicly what the task is for today and when the start is supposed to be. Then the pilots get ready to take off. I film the starts. I take photos on the days when I fly myself. I get ready at some point so that I'm in position before the start to take some photos of the start gaggle.
I basically stay there in the gaggle until the start. I take photos and videos, and if the internet is good, I try to post them right away. That usually doesn't work very well in most countries. Then I make sure I get to the goal as quickly as possible, depending on how far away it is. Either by flying there or I make sure I can land so that I can be picked up by a retrieve and brought to the goal, because I actually have to be in the goal before the others. Exactly, I basically wait in the goal until they arrive. I take more photos and videos of the landing, post that, announce who the winner of the day is, do interviews with the winners, and then basically head back to the hotel. That usually takes another hour or two to get back.
And then it continues with the... we have posts with the rankings every day, more or less. That usually takes about an hour for me to get done. Then I write a daily... You do that
you're at the computer, doing the graphics for them and you have to enter the names and then all of that has to...
Exactly. Okay.
Then, what else is there? Right, I also have to edit the photos I took. And then write the daily report. Basically, what happened, what the task was, what the weather was like, if anything special happened. And then, exactly, I send that to Laura, who then posts it. I mean, posts the newsletter.
That's how a day goes.
You started this job at PWC in 2023.
Back then, you hadn't flown in any competition yourself. So you were just seeing it from the outside. How did you... How did you... How were you actually able to report so reasonably without having had a feel for it yourself? Or was it a bit like, I'm reporting on another world that's happening right there?
Well, it's a different world from the Hike and Fly, where I was more active before. But it's not completely foreign either. I think if you fly reasonably well or move in those circles a lot, you get a good sense of how things work beforehand. And of course, I have to learn how Leading Points work—the scoring system—so that I can somewhat imagine what's happening or report on it correctly. But you actually learn that pretty quickly. At the very beginning, I basically extracted almost everything from the pilots flying along. After the task, I'd ask as specifically as possible so that I could write the report.
And also pilots who are on the committee, for example, and flew along in the PWC, often helped me after the task and somehow quickly gave me the task report via audio, so to speak. And I just had to rewrite it.
At some point, I just knew it myself, because you're always there, you hear it all the time, and eventually, you just have it down.
Now, last autumn you flew your own first competitions yourself, and they were just as successful, as we already discussed earlier. Did that change your perspective on what happens at the PWC? For example, were you in India now—I don't know, maybe that was the first PWC after your competitions back in the autumn or something?
No, it was the second one, but yeah, it changed a lot. Has the...
Perspective changed? So are you saying now, no, I have to report something else here. I have to shift my focus, or I ask completely different questions or something?
Actually, well, not the questions now, I don't think, but my perspective on it has changed a lot because before, I mean before I flew my first competitions, I always thought to myself, for God's sake, who does this voluntarily? Like, as an employee, if you look at it that way, you really think to yourself, you're all kind of crazy. Why? You sit around here all day, then you wait, it
is there
...that you're allowed to take off with 30 kilos of ballast, it's a struggle for you, then it lands somewhere outside, the retrieve takes forever, it's all just totally pointless, and why does anyone even do that? Now that I've flown in a competition myself, I can understand it and I also understand that it's actually really fun and why people do it now, I can relate to that, even though it's also like this for me that while I was flying the competitions myself, I was totally motivated and understood it completely. Now, when I was in India, I thought to myself again, for God's sake, so now I'm supposed to fly those competitions again, shit and fuck, and how can I do that? It's actually always a bit daunting to see that as an employee, but as a pilot, I think it's just a completely different experience.
But would you say, looking at it self-critically, when you watch the videos you're making now, that you've gained a different perspective and that you're selling this fascination with competition flying differently now than you did back in 2023 or 2024?
I don't think so, actually. I mean, the goal is always to portray it as spectacularly and as well as possible, whatever it is. I don't think you can ever portray it faithfully, how great or how beautiful it actually is. Even right now, if you look at the start gaggles or something, how spectacular it is—that feeling of flying along with 100 pilots around you in such a small space, with bits of clouds in between—it's just a feeling that you can't really portray, how intense it is, and also those spectacular moments in the competition when you're flying along yourself and someone next to you has a collapse and it's just really wild and totally exciting.
And I think, or it feels like, it's almost impossible in a way to show it faithfully to someone who isn't in the situation. I think every pilot would need cameras on their heads and from every angle just to be able to report on it even remotely, or to show somehow what the emotions are like and how exciting it is. No matter how hard you try, it's difficult.
That means the fascination of competition flying can really only be experienced, but from your perspective, you can't really convey it to a stranger who hasn't done it yet.
I think it's totally difficult. You could probably do it somehow with a lot of equipment and professional filmmakers and all that, but now with the small means we have in paragliding, I think it's very difficult to really convey it. You can only describe it. How do you describe such natural wonders to someone in a certain way? I think that's very difficult.
You mentioned earlier that you ended up at PWC because you already had so much social media experience beforehand. Was it also recommended to you and things like that? Where did that experience you have come from? I mean, what else do you do with social media?
It actually started when I—I don't know how old I was, 16 or something—I started a food blog and then ran it relatively successfully for a few years. At some point, I just couldn't handle all the food anymore; I had so much of it that I just couldn't look at it anymore. I was making a cake every day and no one could eat it anymore, and eventually, it just started to annoy me.
Did you eat cake back then too? No, I mean, were you, to put it simply, way more of a total [foodie] back then than you are today?
No, actually not. I mostly just passed that on to my family. I was more of a food addict back then, if I were to say it now, very much so. But yeah, it was just simple, I stopped enjoying it at some point and then I started paragliding, started posting more content there, and it kind of developed in that direction too, and, exactly, I just sort of grew into the whole social media life.
Your Insta account is called Bieni Bani. Bieni Bani. Or Bieni Bani. Where does the name come from? Or how did you come up with the name? Or what is it supposed to express? Or is it just a figment of your imagination? I have to stop there.
Hello, to say "Blasi" if you hear that. That's my best friend's father, who—well, as Anna, you quickly get called Annie Banani, practically, how do you say, addressed informally? No, not informally. He just has nicknames, like Annie Banani. At some point, for me, it just became Banani, and back then my Instagram name was still Banani, but my friend's father couldn't pronounce it or didn't know how somehow, and then he was like, "Yeah, Bieni Bani is coming." And since then, everyone just calls me Bieni Bani, and then I changed it on Instagram.
You like it too? So you like your Bieni Bani? Yes,
I think
that's actually quite good. Fantastic, yeah.
What are you pursuing with your own channel? I mean, what do you want to achieve with it? What does it give you?
What does it give me? Well, in a way, it's probably that anyone who does a lot of Instagram or something is looking for validation in a sense. I think you'd be lying if you denied that.
So I don't earn any money from it now, but it has, it has so many advantages because you just have so many connections and I don't know, no matter where in the world I travel, someone from my followers lives there or someone knows someone who knows someone, and I think that also helped me a lot with flying, that I just always had many people that I somehow knew in a way or who gave me tips, precisely through this reach, and I think, so that's the biggest advantage I actually have from it.
Basically, that's the feedback you get back from the individual people.
Exactly, so you just get a lot, I don't know, or I get a lot of help from others, or encouragement, or yeah, tips in a sense. I mean, by now I'm getting my paraglider cheaper, for example, but I'd say the biggest, the biggest benefit is simply these connections. Now
At the beginning, you said that flying is also a lot of this, in a positive sense, this solitude. You're there in peace. Yes. On the other hand, you have these experiences of solitude and then, so to speak, you scream them out again on social media.
Yes. And
you say, like, how does this one thing of enjoying your own solitude fit with the fact that I have 65,000 followers, to whom I'm presenting my videos now? How do those two things go together?
Yeah, of course you control the external perception or what you show. So, if you hold the GoPro for ten seconds and then post it two or three days later, it doesn't really interfere with my solitude or the experience in that moment for me. And when I'm flying, I don't think, "Oh, now I'm sharing this with 65,000 people" or anything like that; it's more like you film it and then,
even when you post it, you don't see those 65,000 people in front of you, but in a way, you're posting it into like an empty space. I don't think you're even really aware of that. I'm often not aware of it; it's just something you do, and I just have fun with it, like editing the videos, watching them again later, looking for music that I think reflects the moment well, or reflects what I felt at that moment, or something like that.
And I kind of enjoy that, yeah. Even if it somehow stands in opposition to that loneliness, yeah.
But doesn't that change or influence your own perception in the moment? For example, you could go flying and there's a super beautiful sunset. Yes. And you say, I'm going to just let go now, let everything just hang, and just look at this sunset, let myself be flooded by that sun, that golden sunlight, and breathe in this moment, just one like that, for a while. I do that quite often, yes. Or I have to take out the camera, I have to turn it on, I have to check, okay, is the setting right, and then I'm actually maybe not so in the moment at all. Or can you manage to combine both? Or, put another way, how do you manage that? Because apparently, it doesn't seem to bother you.
Well, there are also many times when I don't have the camera out, or in that moment, I just simply can't get it out. On the other hand, because I'm so used to doing it this way over the years, it doesn't really register or bother you anymore; the camera just sort of runs in the background in a way. Right now. That is
it has become second nature.
Yes, especially right now, when I'm filming it with my phone or something, the phone is just in my hand and automatically you get this "phone hand" that kind of films by itself and then, without even... I don't necessarily look at the screen at all, but it's just kind of there and I'm watching, it's actually experiencing it right now and it's just filming along and I think if you do that for so long or so often, then at some point it just becomes kind of automated.
Does it ever happen that you notice, hey, I'm making a flight decision
or do I do the hike and fly still or whatever, or that you do certain things because you're doing it for social media, that you say, "Ah, I can post this really well now." Now I'll do three more circles somehow because I want to have this panoramic view, but actually, I would have flown further already or whatever, that's something like that.
Yeah, yeah, probably. Even if it might not happen consciously very often,
but especially now,
So especially back in the day, which means about 20 years ago, I think I did it much more, like thinking, oh, now I'll do a wing over here because it's better for the post or I can post something there, or yeah, now I'll stall my glider over the ground because that makes a good video or something.
It also helps in a way to get out of your comfort zone a bit, but I don't think you're ever completely free from it. Even if you don't know that much about the video, if you're not fully aware of it, I think you still do it anyway, yeah.
Have you seen any changes regarding social media over the years? You've been doing it for so long now and say it's basically become second nature. But is it something where you'd say you've always become more comfortable with it? Like, you can accept it more and more, or has it also become the case over time that sometimes you think, "Ah, I'd just like to leave it alone sometimes. It's too much for me."
Yeah, well, I've kind of let it be for the last six months or so, since after those last three competitions I flew to, and then there were quite a few World Cups as well, and it was somehow... it was all just too much for me, and I think I actually didn't post anything for a long time, and now I'm also doing, well, for about half a year now, very little social media by my standards. So before, I don't know, if I had breakfast, I'd post it, if I went for a run, I'd post it, and I haven't done that at all for about half a year now, and I don't really miss it. I mean, I think I could get back into it quickly, but right now it's just like this, and right now I'm just not doing it.
and nothing has changed. I mean, before I would have thought that the world would end and everything would change, but it's not any different now. But I also think that lately—or well, more and more lately—I've become more critical of social media than I used to be.
Critical in what way? I mean, what do you see as critical about it?
I think that, well, because social media isn't really
is controlled. I mean, anyone can say whatever they want, do whatever they want, post whatever they want, and present it exactly how they want to at the moment. And there's nothing to check how accurate it is, which in some ways is good for certain topics. But I find it often very difficult in the paraglider sector because someone who's been flying for a year can buy a D-glider, then post beautiful videos with it that might not even reflect reality. They can lay their glider down at a really tricky launch site, take a photo of it, say "tricky launch site," and present it as if they started there, even if that's not ultimately the case. So, on social media, you can really portray anything however you want to at the moment.
and influences other people, either subconsciously or consciously, who then think, oh, okay, he could launch that, then maybe I can too. Or, yeah, he moved from an A-glider to a D-glider, yeah, then maybe I can too.
And because of that, it just...
I don't know, maybe increasingly, or maybe it's just my own perception, but it's increasingly the case that people do that, that everything is portrayed in such a glorified way, and then real close calls are presented as, "ha, ha, ha, that was funny." I also find it very difficult that, yeah, that social media is so encouraging in that regard. I mean, motivation can be good or bad; for some things it's good, but in a certain way, I find it's often very difficult as well. And I'm very torn about that.
Has it ever happened to you that you posted something where, from today's perspective, you might say, "Hey, I actually only posted that for the attention," and it was, let's say, at least a distortion of reality?
I believe that everything you post is a distortion of reality. No matter how much you try to portray it accurately, I don't think you can really portray it correctly. I've often had flights where I made a video, the flight was really nice and all, but I had this stupid moment during the flight that I didn't have on video. And now, you can't really... I mean, it's difficult to portray it like that. I've also done really stupid things that I then...
on one hand, for self-protection, I wouldn't have wanted to publish it anyway and wouldn't have been able to, because there wouldn't have been any video footage of it. Or, well, I had this one time, for example, I was in Stuba, flew there with a C-glider for the first time, or the fifth time, I don't know, with a C-glider, and I wanted to do my first stalls with it. I still had a GoPro on my helmet and for the first five stalls, every single time the glider shot out sideways. And I tried it again and then it shot out, I jumped after it behind the glider, got caught in the lines with my helmet and then sort of spiraled down, and to be completely honest, I didn't check my altitude, so I can't really remember what I did anymore.
I somehow ripped the helmet off my head, the GoPro broke off, the glider somehow opened up again and then I landed. But I have no idea how I would have portrayed it or I don't know if I posted it back then or not. I didn't have any video anyway because I lost the GoPro.
And even if I had shown it, I wouldn't have really known how to present it to draw people's attention to how dangerous it actually was and how stupid it was, too.
Yes, well, of course you can do your best to say, hey, this is really dangerous or that was really stupid. But how someone else takes that isn't really in their control. Or how it gets portrayed—and I can't blame anyone for not wanting to really shout about their mistakes right then if they're going to be judged quickly or judged very harshly.
What was your takeaway from this incident?
No GoPro on the helmet during stalls. So, it wouldn't have happened if the GoPro hadn't gotten caught in the lines, and well, you have to check the altitude more often, I don't know. I mean, nothing happened to me, but yeah, a lot of things came together that made it go wrong, and yeah, it does happen that you make a mistake like that sometimes.
But without stalls, you'd still put the GoPro on the helmet.
I don't think I have a sticker on my helmet to attach the GoPro to right now. I don't think I've put a sticker on my helmet to secure the GoPro since then. Instead, I usually have it on a stick so you can hold it, or tied down somewhere briefly so you can drop it quickly. And yeah, I don't think I've put it on my helmet since then. I don't really find the helmet itself that exciting most of the time anyway. I don't know. Yeah.
One thing is posting a lot on Insta yourself, which you did very intensely for a while. The other thing, of course, is following other people and constantly scrolling through paraglider videos, pictures, and whatever else follows. Do you do that too? Like, are you a bit of a paraglider Insta-addict, or do you say, "No, I don't need that at all. I do my own thing and I don't have to watch that much."
I like watching some things, of course. Like, you often don't miss very specific videos if someone, I don't know, does those backflip loops with these kitesurfers. I'll definitely watch stuff like that again. But basically, my algorithm isn't really set to paragliding at all, and I already see so much paragliding content privately with the World Cup, and then I fly myself too, so that's actually enough, and I mostly just watch dog videos on Instagram. And very little of anything else.
paragliding-related content, actually, yeah.
Then let's close the loop back to the beginning. Let's go back to your dog. You haven't had Skadi for very long, how did you end up getting Skadi?
My mom got a dog last June or July, and I went to dog school with him, and then the dog trainer said, "Oh, that's so cute, don't you want a dog yourself?" And I was like, "No, that's not possible with paragliding and all that, it's difficult." And then she said, "Well, there's a dog looking for a new home and I think he'd be a really good fit because he's uncomplicated and just wants to be there all the time, and he doesn't mind traveling either." And I was like, "Yeah, okay, I'll take a look at him." And then, once I saw him, of course I couldn't say no anymore. Yeah, love at first sight. Exactly, yeah.
How do you do that now, because you say, yeah, with all the traveling, does Skadi come along? So it's different than when I was in
India, she was at my mom's place. That works out quite well, because she has a dog now too.
So, in the European competitions, I'd like to take her along wherever possible, and otherwise she stays at her mom's house, but it's already planned that she comes along as far as she can, yeah.
How would you do that then, if you say, for example, you're going flying, have to film the PWC gaggle or something, and then you get another PWC gaggle. The person in charge takes the dog and says, "Here, take Skadi for the next three hours."
Yes, I have to say, I'm a bit like, how do you say, a helicopter dog mom. That means I think I have some trouble just handing the dog over to someone else like that. But yeah, in the PWC, I don't necessarily have to fly, or I only have to, mostly I'm only there once or twice per competition to take videos, and she can also wait for three hours, I can leave her alone for three or four hours. She can wait in the hotel for a bit until I pick her up again and then we drive to the landing field. And she can fly along. So, if it's just practically top-to-bottom glides, then she can come along.
Would you take Skadi with you on a start gaggle? I mean, I don't have to keep flying for performance, but the start gaggle hangs around for kilometers before the start. The thermals are clearly defined. Now, Skadi could fly along with me, and I'd fly the circles with her alongside 80 other PWC pilots?
Yeah, right now she doesn't feel completely comfortable flying yet. I mean, she's calm, but after about seven minutes she gets a bit more nervous or just likes to, because she's practically hanging between my legs down under the harness and she actually prefers to sit on my lap. I'll have to see if there's a solution for that. But yeah, currently I'm actually trying to keep the flights short for me, because it's in her interest to fly thermally.
Do you have to build her a lying harness where she can sit down inside and look out from the front?
Yes, if she weren't so heavy. I mean, she weighs 23 kilos. Oh, okay. And
that is
Of course, yeah, she's just relatively big, unfortunately, to just pack her in somewhere. But let's see, it'll happen eventually and yeah, you can't plan everything in life. I've decided now that if it just happens to me, I'll let it.
Then I'm curious to see if a video will eventually be posted on Skadi the Flying Dog where Skadi is the first dog to have flown a task on the PWC—so, in quotation marks, at least in the start gag, was along for the ride once.
was. The ears are flapping and the dog is looking all excited.
And takes first place in the FAI dog world ranking.
Well, who knows, you never know what might happen.
Anna, thank you for sharing. Thank you. You're leading a wonderful, very interesting life in all directions. I wish you lots of fun with it and also lots of success in the European Championships. Let's see if you'll be the first Macedonian or North Macedonian participant to somehow make it onto the podium.
Yeah, we'll see. I
keep your fingers crossed.
You can find further links to this episode of Podz-Glidz in the corresponding show notes on the Gleitschirm-Blog Loglights.
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