Thought. Imagination. Calculation

My day hasn’t started until I’ve showered. My day hasn’t started until I’ve had breakfast. My day hasn’t started until I’ve wished my children a good morning. Perhaps I’ve gotten used to these simple rituals, so I don’t consider them special anymore. But I never stop appreciating everything I do.

Because of my work, my schedule is very different from my wife’s. I feel overjoyed whenever we get the chance to spend a day off together. We don’t try to plan it in advance – we just do what we feel like in the moment.

This Sunday, we decided to go to the park to enjoy a warm day that might be the last of the year. The cold will come, the lingering birds will fly away, the bare branches will be wrapped in falling snow. Surely, there’s beauty in that too, but I love hot days when you can swim to your heart’s content in the sea and dry off in seconds as if you’ve just reached the shore. Or eat several servings of ice cream without worrying about getting sick the next day.

Sunday, 12:18

Since my last visit, the park hasn’t changed at all. The same whimsical color of the ground – like a young artist splattered black paint on a brown canvas. The trees still try to ruffle the clouds of sweet cotton candy in the sky, hoping to awaken them, while the sun, like a stern yet wise parent, watches us, waiting for our gaze.

When I was a child, there were days when I strolled through the park with my father. Those moments hold a special place in my memory, and now I am the father.

Time is a curious thing. It relentlessly moves forward but always at a different pace. When you’re waiting to see a loved one, time crawls, but when you’re absorbed in something, the hours fly faster than sound, and only echoes remain in our memory.

Sunday, 17:52

Family dinner is my favorite part of the evening. At that moment, we’re as close as possible. Everyone shares their plans for the near future, talks about their concerns, and expresses their wishes. I feel incredibly happy realizing that we are a family. For these people, I would circle the Earth three times over.

But then, a fleeting thought brings me back to earth: I forgot to upload the video from my last trip to YouTube* on Saturday. Being a blogger isn’t as simple as I once thought. Yes, I love sharing my travels and achievements not only with those closest to me but also with those who are interested. My travel videos have already inspired many young people to become pilots. I want to keep making a difference, but now I should get to bed early because tomorrow I have a flight to Doha.

The video is uploading. My uniform is ironed. The alarm is set.

*YouTube: @InstructorAirbus / Instagram: @vladimirshabrin

Monday, 3:55

Outside, everything is quiet. In a few hours, dawn will awaken the city. People will slowly begin their day. The highway will come alive, with cars flowing like small ships. But for now, everyone is still asleep. Everyone but me.

I have one hour to get ready, eat breakfast, get dressed, pack my uniform, and reach the office. At first glance, it might seem like that’s not enough time, but after working in aviation for so long, I’ve learned to do everything with Swiss precision. Every process is automatic, with minimal extra movements.

The taxi is waiting outside the building.

Monday, 5:02

As I walk to the briefing room at the Centrum Air office, I wonder: why is it that only pilots get applause at the end of a flight? Yes, piloting an aircraft is no easy task, but driving a train or a car is challenging too. It’s unfair.

Every briefing follows the same plan: the crew meets in the office; the senior flight attendant instructs their team separately, while the captain instructs the pilots. There’s a medical check, a review of personal documents, a study of the weather forecast along the flight route, the flight plan, and the NOTAM*. At the end of the briefing, we decide whether to fly or not.

In all my time here, I’ve never gone straight home from the office. But honestly, sometimes I’d love to get home sooner. Yet piloting a plane is a serious job that demands maximum focus. Time to get it together.

*NOTAM (Notice to Airmen) – a notification issued by aviation authorities to alert pilots and air traffic controllers of changes along the flight route, at the destination airport, or at airports we will fly over.

Monday, 5:41

To board the aircraft, I have to go through a personal security check – just like all the passengers who will arrive at the airport an hour later. Why do people think that working in aviation is something special? Today, just like the passengers, I woke up early, crossed the border, had my documents and carry-on checked. Even onboard, I’m just a person doing my job.

Monday, 6:03

In two minutes, I’ll meet with the flight engineer. I must remember to ask when I can visit him at home – we haven’t seen each other outside the airport in a while.

I can usually tell right away from his expression if the aircraft is ready for departure. When you’ve worked in aviation for a long time, you start to understand a lot without words.

All that’s left is to refuel, board the passengers, and we’ll be ready to go.

Monday, 6:31

Another briefing before departure. Today I’m the instructor pilot, but I’ll be sitting in the co-pilot’s seat because the captain is making his first flight to Doha and this flight must be conducted with an instructor. I’ll also be maintaining communication with all the air traffic controllers and filling out the flight documentation.

Now the captain will brief us on the taxi route to the runway, since every airport is like a maze. We’ll discuss our plan of action in case of an emergency, although the airline’s engineers do their job properly and the people at the factory who design these planes know their stuff. Every possible scenario during the flight is accounted for – we all want to make it home safely.

Monday, 7:00

The passengers are seated. The flight attendants are finishing the safety briefing. Soon the ground control will give us taxi clearance to the runway. After that, I’ll say goodbye to ground control and switch to another frequency to contact the tower controller, who will clear us for takeoff.

The plane takes off, I retract the landing gear, and I need to switch to approach control, which coordinates the flight within the airport zone until reaching Flight Level 190*.

*Altitude equivalent to approximately six kilometers above the ground.

After reaching that point, I contact Tashkent Control, then Samarkand Control, then Turkmenabad Control, and so on from one controller to another, until we reach our destination.

Many of my friends still think I just switch on the autopilot and sleep. Oh, how wrong they are! At every checkpoint during the flight, I must report the altitude, fuel consumption, and outside weather conditions, so that in case of an emergency, the crew can adjust the flight path. All of this is essential to ensure passengers arrive safely and comfortably at any point on the planet. Pilots definitely don’t get to sleep on the job.

Monday, 9:00

The senior flight attendant will be stopping by the cockpit soon – it’s time for breakfast. I don’t know what’s on the menu today, but I’m sure it’ll be tasty. I wouldn’t mind some pancakes with condensed milk. Too bad they don’t serve that here.

There are two rules. First: pilots always eat different meals, and that’s no myth. This is a measure to reduce the risk of both pilots getting food poisoning. The second rule is more informal than strictly necessary: the captain always gets to choose his meal first. Seniority is seniority, after all.

Monday, 11:00

In 30 minutes, the plane will begin its descent to Doha International Airport. Now I’ll contact approach control so we can start preparing for landing. It’s important to check the weather report and find out which runway we can use.

200 kilometers from the airport, we begin our descent. At this point, the captain prepares the plane for landing – configuring the onboard computer and updating the data in the system. My job is to double-check all the new inputs to avoid any mistakes.

I remember my math teacher in school often saying: “Humans are prone to mistakes.” And indeed, we often get things wrong. We can pick the wrong dish at a café, the wrong movie to watch at night, or the wrong gift for a loved one for New Year’s. But none of those mistakes are usually fatal. It’s different when you’re responsible for 180 passengers – there’s simply no room for error.

Monday, 11:30

The tower controller has given us landing clearance. In a few seconds, the landing gear will deploy, in 30 minutes the passengers will be heading off to their hotels, and in an hour we’ll be ready to return to Tashkent Airport.

Half the workday is over. As soon as the second half is done, I’ll head home. This day wasn’t particularly special or difficult for me. I flew over four countries and the Persian Gulf, spoke with nearly thirty air traffic controllers – all in one 3,000-kilometer flight. Maybe I’ve gotten used to these simple rituals, so I don’t consider them special anymore. But I never stop appreciating everything I do.