With the forecast predicted to be in excess of thirty eight degrees,evenRobbs and I agreed to an early start. Turned out it was just as well: we'd agreed to go inland - even Robbie was getting tired of miles and miles of glorious pristine coastland - having decided to look at th mountains instead, for a change.


The burbly certainly picked up by lunchtime, with a rather 'brown trousers' crosswind at Armidale, prompting a discussion on which technique was best for crosswind landings (I having been taught the use two stages come in a bit faster technique, against Robbie's more practical hang out all your flap to pin you to the ground technique, which is the one I hear after adopt, in an Archer at least). After a blustery, but safe, landing, with the world's slowest base leg, we tied down, and decided to wait it out, with the possibility of remaining overnight on the back burner.

After blowing into the flying school (literally) we met the lovely and inspirational Marion -, flight instructor, Bonanza owner, corporate jet pilot and all round sweetheart. She gave us a lift into town, picked us up again two hours later and drove us to a motel - all the while filling us in with her exciting life story. Having not taken up flying until her forties, she was the perfect inspiration I needed to remind me to finish my CPL.

Armidale's a gorgeous town - and Marion runs a thriving little school, where it took only minutes to realize how many people we had in common - and thus, we committed to spending the night. Opposite the motel was an RSL - a must for any overseas visitor - where Robbs and I had our last meal of the trip. Throughout our dinner, the wind continued to howl, allowing us that lovely smug moment all pilots adore - when the weather confirms you made the right decision: to stay on the ground.