Well another years flying begins with a jolly to the seaside.
With the forecast changing by the minute and every available source giving different readings we set off more in hope than expectation.
I think the phrase "at least we'll be able to get a proper Gower breakfast at the farm cafe" was used by all 3 of us at least twice each during the journey.
Pete has been very keen with the plastic during the winter and had brand new spangly kit to test so was very desperate to get his new wing dragged through the gorse.
From the forecast it looked like paragliding would be blown out but we would have the pleasure of watching smug hangie pilots whizzing around our heads, imagine our surprise then when we arrived to no wind and a only a couple of brave souls desperately scratching round to stay airborne.
We wandered up to the pimple passing a couple of suspicious characters carrying scaffold poles and some old sheets (what they were going to decorate I don't know) , the wind, what little of it there was, veered off to the north and a couple of hardy souls attempted the jump across to soar the cliffs.
The wind came back on to the hill and we walked to the summit in the hope of a flight. Pete and Tony took off at the merest puff of wind and just about made the beach whilst I faffed around waiting for a proper gust.
The proper gust when it came was a bit strong so I trolled back down to the pimple to take off, I was met by a very red Pete and Tony whose lightweight kit had allowed them to walk all the way back from the beach.Tony and I took off whilst Pete 'it flies itself' Tustin received 20 minutes of sage advice from the local coach.
Lovely boat around for a couple of hours till the sun dipped below the horizon, the wind picking up on top allowed the suspicious decorators to take off and join us for some fun.
Big feed in The Worms Head Hotel and back home to dream of another year of flying ahead.