Shortly after the war an aviator called Graham-White brought his ‘Flying Circus’ (Claude Grahame-White) to a field near Long Rock, this field was owned by a farmer whose son was a pal of mine who told me he was having a free trip before the show started on the next day, so of course I went along hopefully, and the pilot agreed to take me if I paid my 5/- it was a three seater open cockpit ‘kite’ and we were warned to keep our heads low. I asked him if he would fly over where I lived, pointing out the direction, as it was a trial flight after servicing and the field owner’s son being aboard he said he would so off we went. What a thrill, of course my parents knew nothing about this for my Mother would never have given permission but I’m sure the pilot thought it was all arranged. We flew around St Michael’s Mount and then over Tregadjack where I threw out a pre-made handkerchief but I reckon I was not very good at bomb aiming for I searched for days without finding it. we were the envy of all our classmates.

My transport was a pushbike and with all due modesty I can say that I was a ‘fair’ cyclist, and a member of the NCU and also the local cycling club. One Sunday morning about forty of us left Chy-an-dour (the drinking trough just as you leave Penzance) at one minute intervals en-route to Truro, then Falmouth and back to Penzance via Helston. I was next to last to leave; the last one was called Johnstone and was a reporter for the Cornishman and Evening Tidings. I reckon he spent his waking hours on his bike, he soon over took me and we agreed to ride together until we reached Helston and then ‘may the best man win’ anyway we rode through the field before we reached Falmouth and eventually I was the first to cross the at Penzance but ‘Toestrap’ ( Johnstone’s nickname) was on my rear wheel so of course with a minute in hand he was the winner.