in 1991 i had moved to london and looked for options to fly cessnas there. there was a neat little airport (little compared to gatwick) named biggin hill in the southeast of london, not far from crystal palace, easy to reach by tube and bus. since nobody there knew my flying skills, i needed to get checked out by an instructor. thats the second line in my pilot logbook: we flew a few rounds in a piper PA 28/161.

a day later i came back, rented a cessna 152, took off, flew for half an hour, landed. all fine. that‘s line three in the logbook.

a week later, a friend of mine from berlin was visiting. i invited him to a flight from biggin hill to the isle of wight. a woman joined us. for the three of us i rented a four seater. on midday of that very hot july 29 we took the tube from notting hill and a bus to biggin hill.

the flight to the isle of wight was easy, a little over an hour. from the US and from germany i was used to pretty simple, often rectangular visual references on the ground. south england is quite different, with a long tradition of tiny, never rectangle farmland patches. but, of course, i flew with instruments (no GPS then). i landed the plane on the the grass runway. because of a possible change of weather in the evening we flew back before sunset.