LOOKING HIGH, HIGH, HIGH!

Ah, they don't write 'em like that anymore! And they don't sing 'em like that anymore, either! When was the last time on Eurovision that you saw a baritone in evening dress singing the British entry? It might easily have been Bryan Johnson in 1960 (53 years ago, good grief). And he came Second!

 

But it is not of such that I speak today. Last night we were offered a flight by a friend of ours in the village, who has a plane, to go fly with him. Taking Mr. B. Johnson's example, we were too gentlepersonally to refuse, so we did.

 

Here's the plane:-

 

 

Here's Ruth getting into it:-

 

 

And here she is aboard:-

 

 

Here she is soaring above the village:-

 

 

And here are some photos I took while aloft:-

 

The junction of the rivers Esteous and Adour in the village.

 

 

Our house, with the white car in the garden.

 

 

A shot of Marciac - a bastide [fortified town] founded in 1298 by Philip IV (the Fair) of France as a defence against the English, who controlled Aquitaine at the time. You can see the marquee (confusingly called a "chapiteau" in French) being erected at top left for the Jazz Festival at the end of this month. Note the gridiron layout of the place with the rounded ends which were once the defensive lines.

 

 

Coming in for a quick touch-down at Maubourguet - behind the supermarket - before the short flight back to Labatut.

 

 

 

Thank you, Henri!