10 Things I Wish I Knew Before Starting My PPL in Finland

By an American military spouse, Air Force veteran, and very humbled student pilot

When I decided to pursue my Private Pilot License (PPL) in Finland, I thought I knew what I was getting into. I had aviation experience, military discipline, and just enough confidence to be dangerous—which, historically, is when the universe likes to teach me lessons.

To be fair, I hadn’t flown in 20 years.

For two decades I told myself, “I’ll get back into flying someday.” That someday kept getting bullied by convenience, responsibility, and life in general. After retiring from the Air Force, I assumed I’d magically have more time. That was a gross miscalculation.

Instead, I started a new career. Then I went after a Master of Science because apparently I enjoy suffering for future paychecks. My wife and I started a family and opened our home to foster kids. Flying didn’t just take a back seat—it fell out of the car somewhere around mile marker adulthood.

Eventually, I gave up on it entirely.

Then we moved to Finland—and everything changed.

Starting Over, Because Ego Doesn’t Convert to EASA

Moving overseas put me completely outside my comfort zone. I believe opportunity doesn’t show up quietly—and when it does, you’re supposed to answer. For the first time in my adult life, I wasn’t employed.

“Jobless” didn’t mean useless. It meant I wasn’t billing hours for someone else. I became a stay-at-home dad—house husband—Air Force dependa, if you will. My new duties included cooking, cleaning, logistics, and chauffeuring children like a small-scale airline operation.

But here’s the key detail: all our kids were in school and daycare.

For the first time in years, I had time.

So I committed to Career 2.0. Step one: get current. That’s when I learned the FAA PPL does not magically convert to EASA unless you meet very specific criteria.

I did not.

So I started from scratch—which honestly was fine, because after 20 years out of the cockpit, I needed the reset anyway.

What I didn’t have was context. I’m great at jumping into things blind. My wife is the planner. I’m the guy who says, “How hard can it be?” right before it gets hard.

Finland is an incredible place to learn to fly—but it is not the U.S. And there are a few things I really wish someone had told me before I dove in headfirst.

These aren’t complaints.

They’re lessons.

Earned the hard way.

1. Winter Isn’t a Season — It’s a Lifestyle Choice

I knew Finland would be cold. I did not understand that winter here is basically a personality trait.

Finns casually refer to November as “death month.” That’s not poetic—that’s operational planning. Darkness creeps in, rain never stops, and the sun becomes more of a rumor than a celestial body.

I took my checkride at the end of November after a solid month of clouds and rain. Then—like aviation divine intervention—the weather cleared for three days. Just long enough to fly, prep, and test.

The Flight Examiner looked at me and said, “Fly as much as you can. Winter is coming.”

That was not a joke.

Flying doesn’t stop in winter—but everything slows way down:

• Aircraft availability (this is when all postponed maintenance happens)

• Weather windows

• Daylight (and somehow it’s always in your eyes)

You’ll spend hours staring at METARs and TAFs wondering if the sun still exists.

Lesson: Budget more time than you think you need. Winter will absolutely punch your timeline in the mouth.

2. Daylight Is a Currency — Spend It Like You’re Broke

In summer, the sun barely sets.

In winter, it barely clocks in for work.

Short days mean:

• Fewer VFR windows

• More pressure to “make it work”

• More cancellations than your calendar can emotionally handle

• And when a nice day does happen, everyone else wants to fly too

Lesson: Finnish aviation rewards patience, not hustle. Impatience gets grounded.

3. The Weather Whispers… Then Tries to Kill You

Finnish weather doesn’t yell danger. It politely suggests it.

Low ceilings. Mist. Surprise icing. Conditions can degrade fast without much drama.

Lesson: Conservative decision-making isn’t optional here—it’s survival.

4. Radio Work Will Humble You (Good)

Yes, English is the language of aviation. Yes, everyone passes an English proficiency test.

No, that does not mean everyone speaks English on the radio.

Towered airports? English.

Uncontrolled airports? Finnish—because it’s their airspace and they all know each other.

You’ll often need to ask for positions in English, which everyone accommodates—but you have to stay sharp and assertive.

Between accents, international traffic, and your own nerves, radio work will expose every weakness you have.

Lesson: This will make you a far better communicator than flying in a single-accent environment ever could.

5. The Airspace Is Clean — Which Means You’re Visible

Finnish airspace is simple. Logical. Clean.

That also means mistakes stand out.

Finland is small. The aviation community is smaller. People notice things.

Lesson: Know your airspace cold. There’s nowhere to hide.

6. Flying Here Is a Privilege — And the Clubs Are No Joke

This surprised me the most.

Flying in Finland is not treated like a casual hobby. It’s treated like a responsibility.

The culture is:

• Serious

• Respectful

• Safety-obsessed (in a good way)

• Zero ego

And let’s be clear: the clubs and gliders absolutely rule the sky here.

Glider operations are disciplined, organized, and not messing around. If you come in with a “bro-pilot” mindset, you’ll get corrected quickly—probably politely, but firmly.

No one cares how fast you log hours. No one cares about your Instagram.

Lesson: If you come from a “fly fast, flex harder” culture, recalibrate immediately.

7. Aircraft Availability Will Test Your Patience

Smaller fleets. Harsh conditions. Meticulous maintenance.

Planes will not always be available when you want them.

Lesson: Flexibility beats frustration. Always have a backup plan.

8. The Written Exams Will Hurt Your Feelings

EASA theory has a reputation—and it deserves it.

Nine subjects. Two days. Zero mercy.

I wildly underestimated this exam.

Lesson: Respect ground school. It will make you smarter and more humble at the same time.

9. Progress Will Be Non-Linear (Accept It Early)

Weather. Instructors. Maintenance. Life. Finland.

Some weeks everything clicks. Some months nothing moves.

Lesson: Stop measuring progress by hours logged. Measure competence instead.

10. Finland Will Quietly Make You a Better Pilot

This is the big one.

Flying here teaches:

• Patience

• Precision

• Respect for limits

• Calm decision-making

It strips away ego and replaces it with real confidence—the kind earned through preparation.

Lesson: Stick with it, and you’ll come out sharper, quieter, and safer.

What I’d Do Differently If I Started Over

• Build a longer timeline

• Stress less about pauses

• Lean into winter ground study

• Trust that slow progress still counts

For context: it took me 8 months to earn my PPL in Finland. It took over a year in my twenties.

That’s not because I’m smarter now.

It’s because I’m less stupid.

Different environment. Different rules. Different lessons.

Final Thoughts

Learning to fly in Finland isn’t flashy.

It’s disciplined. Intentional. Sometimes frustrating. Often humbling.

But if you want to be a good pilot, not just a licensed one, it might be one of the best places in the world to learn.

And yes—I check the weather obsessively.