Flying Adventure
Home and away… Martin Ferid stays a bit closer to home with a trip to the East of England, visiting Cambridgeshire and Lincolnshire…
T
he earliest form of what is known as the English language was brought to these shores by the Anglo-Saxons and, in Old English, the month of February was known as ‘Kale-monath’ (cabbage month) or ‘Solmonath’ (mud month). It was, however, the Latin name ‘Februa’ that finally won through, so-called after the Roman ‘festival of purification’. Being that the month is always so cold, there are still some things to look forward to, although being honest not so much for the aviator. It can, of course, be used as an opportunity to accumulate those valuable Brownie points with a significant other. The month not only contains Valentine’s Day, for the romantically inclined it starts on 7 February with Rose Day and only culminates on the 14th after a different ‘day of love’ each day in between – Propose Day, Chocolate Day, Teddy Day, Promise Day, Hug Day and Kiss Day. At this time of year, when days are still short, runways are wet and the time needed to clean the aeroplane can almost be as long as the flight itself, it’s good to make productive use of the time. Many consider themselves a bit of a whizz with the spanners, so it may be a good time to get the toolbox out and deal with those jobs that go hand in hand with this avocation. Simple jobs like charging the battery, gapping plugs and a little grease
Main Wansford Bridge, as featured in a 17th century poem by Richard Braithwaite, and built from 1577.
here and there are routinely taken care of, but if more involved jobs that need doing get neglected, they can eat into that all too valuable flying-time. As I actively seek out less prosaic and the more interesting places, discovering Stamford is no great surprise, although I have to admit, that it came about due to a set of circumstances and not by any great design. With the winter weather showing no sign of abating, the idea was to drive somewhere for a couple of days, within a three-hour radius. With laptop in hand, Sian was making suggestions whilst I attempted to watch John Wayne taking on the bad guys. There he was on the back of a horse, a gun in each hand, with reins in his teeth while Sian continued the conversation. Her complaint was that I wasn’t listening as she talked, although in my defence I’d put forward the argument that she kept talking when she knew I wasn’t listening. The net result was that she’d booked what she called a ‘superb’ offer in Cambridgeshire in a village called Wansford. As the date drew closer, more out of habit than anything else, a look at the synoptic charts showed a period of high pressure on the horizon, which prompted a check to see if there was an airfield nearby for tea and a chat. To my surprise, Peterborough-Sibson was less than a five-minute car ride away.
22 | LIGHT AVIATION | February 2020
LAA02.adventure.V2.LB.indd 26
24/01/2020 09:36
