Pub

The Engineers' Arms in Henlow is a smart, friendly place; this is the landlord, I believe.  I'm trying to wangle myself attendance at the Beer Festival planned for April, but I'll need someone close to help with the driving . . .

There was not much going on at work, no courses to teach, so after my Stress ECG* I met a navigator friend from a long time ago, when he worked for me on a large RAF station in Germany (now closed).  He has gained his PPL since he stopped flying in the back of Tornados (he was on Vulcans before that) and uses the rather smart flying club at RAF Henlow.

We had some very decent beer, guaranteed in this pub, and put the world to rights – except the B-word which seems to have evaded the skills of the best of our leaders – and parted vowing to do some flying together.  He might even let me go with him in a Piper Cub.


*An essential part of my medical monitoring after the age of 60 while I have kept flying.  I now have a normal and a Stress ECG annually, 6 months apart.  All was well today.