Some sad news from the day before. There was a small party in the evening to celebrate the departure of Melanie Hallam from the office. She wants to spend more time running her B&B. Her able replacement is Christine.
We also arranged for an evening meal in the airfield. Jorge (pronounced Horgay) announced a menu in the morning and we signed up to three courses. By the evening some of us even remembered what we had ordered. The quality was standard 12 euro Spanish fare. Vultures were apparently not on the menu despite RW's attempts, though the chickens were suspiciously large.
The following day was warmer and less windy than the day before. It was tricky to get away. The thermals stopped at several levels, possibly sliced by the wind. Eventually 431 made it up to 7800 feet and very modestly told 775, in which there was an audible grinding of collective teeth. 431 then then had to fight to get down. Bob Akehurst was then loaded in to 431 with tales of how great it was up there. After one and a half hours on Stage one at 4500 feet, 431 admitted defeat. Sportingly they took on the chin 775's modest announcement of reaching Stage 3, though using such unfair tactics as greater span and low cunning.
Today (Friday) has dawned with the prospect of greater warmth and even less wind but you can always guarantee round here that something will make us look like April Fools. Curiously the image above was cropped and resized. When checking that it was now small enough, it was seen to be 775kb.
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