After our chaotic start yesterday we did a bit better today. We filed an IFR (instrument) flight plan and left Tours in light drizzle and low cloud slotted in between several pairs of fast French air force jets taking off in close formation. Probably instructors and pupils learning the magic art of precision flying, so close their wingtips seemed almost to overlap. Thrilling to watch. Le Top Gun. Them not me. The operations staff at Tours were welcoming, friendly efficient and helpful. They downloaded the weather for us at various airfields we might land at (Memo to MetOffice UK: get with the programme and check out some of the software the FrenchMet guys have. For starters try http://www.orbifly.com/member/metmap.php?lang=ENG ) found us a hotel, gave us a cup of coffee " Sorry,no tea. We are French.". They then sent us on our way with warm wishes for our onward journey through Africa " Vous allez OU?"..and promised to follow the blog. Merci les gars.
After an initial climb through cloud to 4000 feet we were cleared to 7000 feet (FL70) and emerged in blue skies between two layers, white and puffy underneath and thin stratus on top. Outside temperature was zero degrees Celsius but we hadly picked up any ice on the airframe. Alpha Charlie behaved impeccably. No battery tantrums today. Leaned the mixture and got less than 8.5 US gallons an hour most of the way. Very frugal. As we sped south at around 110 knots with a 35kt cross-wind, the skies above and ahead cleared and we caught sight of the Pyrenees about 150 miles ahead shimmering in a blue haze. It took my breath away.
Limoges had cloud down to 300ft. We could hear frustrated airline pilots chattering away at machine-gun speed in French to the tower. Definately not cricket. L'Anglais est obligatoire. I could tell you a story about a German pilot who went ballistic for being ordered to speak English at a German airfield but I won't. We might need their money.The French, bless their little croissants, just won't accept they've lost the battle for La Francophonie..no direspect to Voltaire et al.
Toulouse radar, anticipating our needs and reading our minds, quickly cleared us to our destination: Gaillac. Nice little wine attached to a town, tannic, fresh with a hint of herbs and spices. Grass runway. "Will you land VFR (visually). Cloud base maybe 1000ft, maybe.." he asked implying that we were bonkers. We did, John skillfully taking over just as we broke through over a green and damp landscape dotted with vineyards and woods, executing a perfect hard bank to the left to line up and brought her down on well-drained French soil.
Alastair ( ex-RAF chopper pilot and Captain Bird's Eye look alike) met us in his stately little Renault van with the push-pull gear-stick. Alastair and his friend Charly are joining us on the trip in Charly's kit-built dinky toy( compared to our Tonka). It's actually fast, has a range of 1000kms, sups Avgas in thimbelfulls, a parachute ( for the plane not them) and almost certainly a small wine cellar. Alastair used to own a vineyard. It's a brilliant little aircraft.
Steve arrives tonight from the UK. We head to Corsica on Sunday, then Corfu, Crete and almost certainly entering Africa at Tobruk in Libya, Rommel and Monty and all that. Sam the Man appears to have finally accepted the inevitable and canned the route through Egypt.
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