Paginatitel

The Grumpy Gang

The Grumman Aircraft Pilots Association European Branch

The natives were friendly too. They allowed us to pitch our tents around the back of the terminal (out of sight of the local gendarmerie) and, in the evening provided us all with a sumptuous feast fit for an emperor. There was wine a'plenty, the biggest tomatoes I've ever seen (Yes Floridians! - bigger than yours!!) and the food just kept on coming - A glorious evening and a very fitting start to our epic journey.

So you can see we had the benefit of some profoundly …… er! ………. Um! …. Adept? …….. Maniacal?….. 'interesting' people. It was a good mixture of talent, adventurism together with a certain degree of competence (Please note that Johannes took Danny [the 'token' ATC whallah] on his own volition - he wasn't encouraged to undertake this selfless act!!). It was by dint of a heavy thumbprint on a Jeppesen map that designated the delightful airfield of Charleville Meziers as the start off point for the whole adventure.

We all arrived in the early afternoon of the 13th June. The weather was nicely warm and the thunderstorms didn't interfere too much. Charleville Meziers is situated in the verdant green pastures of Ardennes region of northern France - rolling green hills and rivers - beautiful.

It should be noted at this point that some of our party had acquired new tents for the trip, all very pristine and, as their new owners boastfully proclaimed, " ever so cheap". This was their first erection! During the aforesaid banquet the heavens opened. Donner und blitzen were much in evidence and Oh boy! did it rain?. Suffice to say that some (new) tents proved to be not only cheap, but also very nasty and very, very leaky. We old tentarians, took great delight as the cheapskates new owners bailed out their abodes later in the evening. It's amazing the amount of H2 0 a tent can hold!! Never mind, their sleeping bags proved to have good absorbent qualities! As did their socks and undies!

Thursday 14th June - The airport management had warned us to be sure that we had de-camped by 09:00hrs, as the airport was getting a visit from a VIP (Bush? Blair? Who knows?), and that the cops would take a dim view on a tented village in the middle of their security blanket, so ….. after a good nights sleep for some (and a soggy night for others) we took heed and packed our stuff in decent time for another hearty breakfast before setting off for further adventure.

It had been decided, in between the numerous courses of our previous evening's meal and our breakfast, that Ferrara, Italy, was to be the destination for that evening's frivolities. This, of course, meant passing through several international borders and a possible flight through the Alps via Innsbruck and the famous Brenner Pass. Of course fuel and weather was a prerequisite for such a route so we elected to fly on to the small German airfield of Donaueshingen in order to get topped up with both of these necessities.
Our first deserter appeared at this juncture! Richard North, in his AA1B, decided that the exotic beaches of southern France better deserved his undivided attention than the beauties of Italy and he chose to divert off on his lonesome and to meet up with us towards the end of the trip. He'd keep in touch via our mobile phones. His adventures are annexed to this report so you can see what he got up to. He tells me that once again the natives were helpful but spoke in strange tongues. (See "North goes South").