Last weekend we drove to Bournemouth for two reasons.
The first was to visit relatives who just happen to own an apartment overlooking the whole of Bournemouth bay.
The second was to witness days three and four of the annual spectacular that is the Bournemouth air show.
As we sipped coconut water and nibbled on strawberries with salmon, Parma ham, olives and feta cheese we found ourselves almost level with the pilot and crew of the majestic Lancaster as she flew past our fourth floor cliff-top ‘eerie’.
We were so fortunate to have such a birds eye view as we watched in amazement as some of the worlds finest aeronautical displays took place right before our very eyes.
The legendary Red Arrows team did not disappoint as they spellbound the thousands that had gathered below to marvel at their awesomely precise routines.
Everybody was left astounded as those magnificent folk in their flying machines displayed skills that seemed to defy the possible.
One had to wonder at the awesome power on show, despite their original intension as weapons of immense destruction, which still left one with a feeling of amazement at the coming together of superlative aviation invention and creativity with such skill and precision demonstrated by all of the pilots and crews.
Is that a Spitfire of a Hurricane? Wow, was that the Vulcan? One’s ignorance of the precise identity of these powerful machines didn’t seem to matter as each in turn used the sky as their stage. I actually caught myself clapping: one man was heard shouting ‘bravo’.
What an incredible experience for free!