It was a beautiful day. I even managed to persuade my younger son, Oliver, to join us. David flew us in the club Cherokee, Tango-Lima, to Sywell, which we found without too much trouble. Everybody sat outside the restaurant and waited for Jane and I think, Wendy, in a 152.

Now at Sywell, the radio conversations are piped over the sound system in, and outside, the restaurant. So we could hear Jane approaching the airfield. We also saw Jane go straight over the top of the airfield, and heard Jane asking the tower where the airfield was. "Are you lost?" asked the FISO. "No, we are temporarily unaware of our location" came Jane's answer. The circus entourage at this point where rolling about laughing. Sorry, Jane.

On to Leicester, barely time to get up to altitude when we are descending to join. Sandwiches, and one solitary photograph, taken by Jim. The caption is also Jim's:

Seems Oliver has heard Jane's story before!

Switch round, and I am flying Xray-Kilo to Sibson. Best check the fuel. At the time Xray-Kilo had a pipette type fuel dip. Somehow I managed to slip with the pipette in the tank, lost my grip on it and it fell in. After some calculation, I decided, and Jim confirmed that there was enough fuel in the one tank to get back to Andrewsfield even if the pipette block the flow from the other tank. So off we went to Sibson. On the downwind leg, the monster that Sibson use for parachute jumping took off on the runway perpendicular to the active. This meant that I had a rather large aircraft heading straight for me. I pointed this out on the radio, but got no reply. Eventually the monster turned to port and climbed away.

And finally, back to Andrewsfield, the pipette only having damaged my pride. And the codicil - when they fished the pipette out the fuel tank, there was not one but two in there!

:[Text: Rob] [Photo: Jim]