Following from yesterday’s failed attempt to depart, it became a waiting game for the cloud to dissipate enough for us to make our escape. Looking at the forecasts, it seemed as if the weather down south was clearing but Dundee was still fairly well fogged in and there was little means of escaping. By half past seven in the morning, tumultuous rain made the prospect of departure today seem even more unlikely, although there was the promise of a change in the weather for mid-afternoon.
We realised, however, that should such a miraculous change in the weather occur (and it this point it really did seem it would be a miracle,) we would be leaving far later into the afternoon than we had really hoped for, and our chances of making it all the way down to Durham Tees Valley and then Syerston were slim. Additionally, the worst of the weather was sitting right on the east coast, precisely on our route to Durham. Despite our eagerness to stop in at Durham, we decided the best plan would be to amend our route to tack further west and stop in overnight at Carlisle, leaving for Syerston the next morning. It would, of course, entail missing the first event on our list, the cutting of the turf of the new aviation academy at Syerston, but with light aircraft involved, such setbacks are too be expected.
We were in the middle of a game of bananagrams again, having a minor dispute over the legitimacy of certain words, when a glimmer of sunshine filtered through the window. The tiles were scrambled back into their bag, my nav socks were adorned, our last few belongings thrown into the back of the aeroplane and G-EVIE’s Grand Tour was finally about to commence.
Claire flew the first leg down to Carlisle, and providing we left for Syerston in the morning, an overnight stop would not hinder her ability to log this as part of her qualifying cross country. The cloud base had lifted considerably, and though there were a few spectacular cumulous displays to admire, there was nothing that hindered our progress along the route. Passing Gretna, it was all eyes open for spotting Carlisle airport, and though I enthusiastically pointed out what was quite obviously the three runways of Carlisle, it was Claire who bagged the first ‘airfield spot’ of the trip, when my runways, on closer inspection, turned out to be some slightly misleading hedges.
The friendly staff of Carlisle airport welcomed us into our first stop of the tour, and we found ourselves a cosy B&B for our first night, with all the good intentions of sorting out our routes for the next day, our belongings and generally getting our brains in gear for the next part of the trip. As it turned out, we had left everything we needed in the aircraft, brought all the wrong things with us into the B&B, and quickly gave up the thought of organising as just far too much effort. That was something we could leave for the morning, and with the glorious thought of starting as we meant to continue, we bedded down for the night and looked forward to what promised to be a good day of flying the next day.
