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And, finally...
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...this year's visit failed to supply the wall-to-wall
soaring experience to which we have become accustomed, but I am happy to
report that we made the most of the opportunities that were available. The weather
was, it has to be said, unhelpful in this regard, and the first week was pretty much a write-off, with
continuous
unsoarable weather right up until the start of our second week.
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Having (only just) survived deep depression, we were revitalised by the return of traditional
June weather and nine days of excellent soaring. Our third and final week was
usable,
but only with a limited playground due to mid-afternoon storms that refused to
stay on the frontier in the traditional manner, instead spreading out to the valleys. It was hard to imagine during our final week of 35+C
temperatures that we had all been wearing fleeces on our arrival.
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220 in wave (photo: Bob Grieve)
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Hellooooo...Vaumeilh!
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The club provided the customary good
Met and tugging services, and despite the relatively high cost of aerotows
when compared with those of the UK, we felt that the flying that we did
achieve was worth the effort.
On the social side, the club continued to
offer free aperitif evenings and good-value barbecues, complete with Pierre
"where's my steak?" Bourgeois and his band, all of which were met
with great appreciation.
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It is interesting that Ariane, Charlie and I
had each independently decided to have "personal issues" during
the same holiday. My gammy leg and associated hospital visits are well
documented (getting better now, thanks for asking) while Ariane decided to
gouge open her lower leg just before the end of our holiday (the nurses at
Sisteron are beginning to suspect an English conspiracy). Even Charlie
managed to join in the act by picking up some wet eczema from various visits
to the lac de Riou, and is now running around with a patchily shaven head.
More fun on the drive home too, as one of my
trailer tyres exploded spectacularly in a cloud of burning rubber just
south of Dijon. The following twenty minutes spent changing the tyre were
memorable, due mainly to the 38C heat and excessively high humidity. Alan
and Wendy delayed their own tyre-burst until the following day, but we all
eventually made it home without further drama.
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Hands off my leg...
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On balance....yes, worth every second
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