International Air Display

At P’s insistence we spent the afternoon gazing at the sky. His enthusiasm is a bit of a worry, and I’ve got a horrid feeling this boy’ll be asking for flying lessons in a few years.























Even more worrying was S thinking a huge smelly helicopter was ‘beautiful’. I asked her to repeat herself three times before being sure she was talking about the copter we were standing in. When I pulled a face at my brother (who we’d bullied into joining us) one of the RAF pilots stepped up and asked if I was disagreeing. Umm, of course not!




J adored the Red Arrows! She was over the moon when they turned the sky pretty colours, and gave her the thrill of being deafened.















R wanted to stay home and bake (!). But he enjoyed himself once there.











I guess it got called an International Air Display because the Americans came with a Black Hawk. Unfortunately, they weren’t as keen as the RAF to let hundreds of little kids scramble all over their stuff, and held everyone at arms length.







Taking pictures of moving planes not only makes you look like a geek, but it’s hard too! The damn planes move so fast, though I did learn they can fly at different speeds, this I discovered after taking four shots of the same plane and asking my brother what each was. He knows about these things because he used to be into airfix models as a kid. Umm, I wonder if the Pokemon information my eldest can spout will ever be as useful?