Fighter pilot, Nick Costin, was inspecting me through his jet-black, aviator sunnies. We were seated side by side in a CT4 military training aircraft, somewhere in the sky, between Bankstown Airport and the Blue Mountains. We were upside down and my insides were about to come out, midway through an aerobatic manoeuvre called a Cuban Eight.

It was too early on a Sunday morning for my hangover to be hung-over like this. I squirmed under the scrutiny of Nick's gaze while four to five Gs sucked the blood out of my brain. Everything it seemed, was headed south - everything but my breakfast. Nick's head was about a bucket away from mine... Geez! These Top Guns are brave, I thought.

Miraculously, I survived Nick's scrutiny - even managed a thumbs up and an "Excellent" reply to his: "How was that?"

A moment later, I realised my mistake. Thus encouraged, Nick was pushing us through the second loop of the Cuban Eight... and I had to swallow hard as the gauges in front of me blurred and spun out of control. I would learn later, back at base being comforted by coffee, that the aorta can be torn away from the heart when subjected to 20 Gs or more. Celebrity stunt pilot Nick also told me how he'd routinely avoided blacking out while enduring 14Gs in a Russian Sukhoi 29 aircraft he used to contest the unlimited aerobatics category at numerous national air shows. Nick's neck does contain a few compressed vertebrae, but having spent six years with the Royal Australian Air Force, he subscribes to the "no pain, no gain" school of thought.

However, unlike my uncharacteristically masochistic mistake, most passengers only have to endure the degree of pain that gives them the most pleasure. Nick's scrutiny allows him to judge your threshold, easing off the control stick or turning harder in accordance with just how bad you want to be Top Gun!

In addition to Castro's Curse (my name for the Cuban Eight), a standard aerobatic routine in a CT4 will include sharply banked turns, loops and rolls that get you upside down, steep speed-dives and a vertical ascent a la a Space Shuttle take-off.

The CT4 is a highly manoeuvrable piston-powered aircraft that is frequently used to train jet fighter pilots - including Australia's own F18 Top Guns. Nick recommends a CT4 sortie as the ideal preparation for the real thing - a combat mission in a Strikemaster Jet. Both experiences are available through Jet Fighter Flights - the only commercial operation of this kind in Australia and one of only three in the world.

For value for money, the CT4 Sydney Harbour Reconnaissance flight is hard to beat. You receive a full briefing on the flight path and aerobatic routine at Bankstown before pulling on a flying suit and taking off on a north-east course to the northern beaches. Turning south, the CT4 cruises along the coast at 500ft before heading from Manly into the CBD for a spectacular circuit 1500ft above the Harbour Bridge. Then it's back out through Sydney Heads and down to 500ft for another coast run to Cronulla before turning west for an aerobatic climax over the Royal National Park. This flight takes just over an hour and costs $495.

But if you've got plenty of the folding stuff - as well as the Right Stuff - the Strikemaster Jet program can take you to another level. A standard half-day experience costing $1595 includes a 20-minute flight featuring aerobatic and combat manoeuvres while the ultimate Low Level Strike and Air Combat Mission costs $2995 with 40-minutes of high-adrenalin simulated weapons release, dog fighting with a friend or matched adversary and formation aerobatics.

At three times the price and twice the speed, there is no doubting that the souvenir video of your Strikemaster mission - featuring you in Top Gun flying suit, helmet and oxygen mask - will be more "Tom Cruise" than a jaunt in the humble CT4. But the CT4 can deliver an "out of this world" sensation that the Strikemaster cannot. If you've ever wanted to experience zero gravity - like an astronaut in space - the CT4 is for you.

On our way back to Bankstown Airport Nick placed a pen on the dash in front of us before pushing the mighty little aircraft through a parabolic arch that had us descending at zero gravity. At that magic moment, the pen floated off the dash and hovered in front of my eyes. Imagining my cornflakes floating around the cockpit with the pen - I plucked it from the air.

"How was that?" Nick enquired.
"Excellent," I said.
"Do you want to do it again?" he asked.
"Not today."