I owned a Rans S4 microlight for five years and after a bit of a struggle sold it this summer. His previous owner called him Alfie so I stuck with that name, wouldn't have been right to call him anything different.

The first time I saw him was in a shed north of Aberdeen. He looked right, he had low hours and a lowish price. I had nowhere to keep him but emotions took over – I was desperate to buy a flying machine and storage seemed to be a trivial problem. Of course it wasn't and became the most expensive part of what should have been a cheap method of flying.

Despite what some group A guys think microlights are real aeroplanes and do everything that lightplanes will do – everything happens that bit slower but the sensations are the same. For me the big disadvantage was that they are twitchy in winds and if the wind is strong they don't go anywhere quickly. Big boys call it penetration.

Well Alfie was slow but he wasn't thirsty, 12 litres or so an hour for three hours, so I could go places. I might have had to refuel to get back but hitch hiking with a can was easy. Looking back in my logbook I see trips from Cumbernauld to Stair, East Fortune, Strathaven, Stonehouse, Balado, Gigha, Oban, Mull, Great Orton, Montrose, Wigton, Kirkbride, Errol, Perth. Most of these trips were made many times. A lot of these trips were on fine sunny winter days when an hour in the fridge would have been warmer than an hour in the freezer with Alfie.

Alfie never let me down away from home. He always got me back. I think I let him down a few times, though. Eventually the controllers at Cumbernauld stopped asking me if I needed assistance, they realised I always landed like that. Surprisingly it wasn't windy days that caught me out, quite the reverse, gentle winds seemed to result in me dumping Alfie from a great height - once to the detriment of propeller and tarmac.

Our radio was never very good. There was the time at Cumbernauld when I asked for permission to taxi and the controller said I can't understand you but I can read your lips.

We spent 120 hours in the air together. I'd like to say he always started first time but he never did. He liked new plugs, boy did he ever, and when he got them then he would burst into life first time.

We only got a fright once. South of the Ochills on a calm day with strong Northerlies forecast, we got flung up to 3000 feet then dumped to 800 feet in the space of a few miles. That was not pleasant. When I got back to Cumbernauld there was a gentle breeze lying to us.

But all good things come to an end. A two seater beckoned, not quite a microlight, but Alfie and I had to part. It took a while and for our last year together he served as a roost for Perth birds. Cleaned up he still looked the part. His new owner liked him so that was that.

Alfie and I had our last flight on the 9th June. Perth to Eshott, two hours, direct across the Forth. Pure magic.

There were no tears, honest.