The day began, since it was windy, overcast and very cold, with tea and biscuits in the van (fruit shortcake). Soon it eased a bit, and was immediately buoyant. The best climbs were to be found by following Helen and Mick westwards to beyond the trees.
I bailed out of the first one that might have taken me over the back a bit low, but after poncing around for half an hour I got to 3,000 feet and decided to go for it. Everyone else headed back to the hill except for the pilot of a red wing (a Gin? ), who, splayed legs notwithstanding, comprehensively outflew me at every climb or fragment thereof. Finally I could pimp off him from below no longer. As he headed east, I swooped over Smannell and Enham Church of England Primary School, provoking a flurry of waves and yells. Deciding against doing a Vincent, I landed not in the playground but in the field next door, to a friendly greeting from teachers and pupils alike.
I rang to ask about the cost of a taxi, but then saved myself £22 by walking to Enham Alamein and getting a lift first to Hurstbourne Tarrant, then to the hill itself from Rob the Gurkha, who was on his way for a fly.