Tenuous Claims to Fame.

I am ashamed to say that I have never yet met Peter Snow but I did meet John Snow (news reader/journalist, not fictional something or other) in a professional capacity for a twenty minute mid-morning meeting in Bath that gave me the rest of the day to try to cop off with his, rather delicious and coquettish PA (I failed but afterwards spent a pleasant hour or so in her company) and see out the rest of the day being paid to visit various public houses around the historic city instead of slogging it back to the office.
On balance, I call it a win.
I've been to Bath and also to an office.
 
I met Hanse Cronje at Adelaide Oval, my mate later heard Hanse telling everyone he had met Thunderbox.
Talking of Saffers that reminds me....

2002 and I was imbibing lots of red wine in a beach hotel in Arniston Bay, South Africa when a helicopter landed right outside on the garden of the hotel.

Jacobus Francois Pienaar and his wife get off the heli, walk into the hotel and stand right next to me and my 2 drinking companions at the bar.

We all asked and had our pictures taken with him even though (no duff) I didn't have a scooby who he was. (I am a cricket bob not a rugby bob).

Nice bloke though, and his wife too, after a few more drinks they got back on board and off again.

Don't know about you, but even as I am typing this I am falling asleep.............
 
Chalk lion? Not much of a zoo then.

I stalled a Slingsby T21 near Whipsnade and can still remember the way the chalk lion whirled round and round as I desperately tried to recover the aircraft. I also still remember the screaming in my ears, before finally realising it was the instructor howling "Don't fight me!!!!!"
 
Luckily, the instructor did.

If I had won, the instructor would not have been able to give me the monumental bollocking that he did when we landed safely at the gliding club. I only later deduced that he probably had a massive guilt complex for not telling me clearly "I have control" when my inexperience caused the stall to start.
 

B42T

LE
On an African slant I met a bloke from Rhodesia (that's what he called it) in Schipol Airport at 0600hrs and we got absolutely bladdered while waiting for our connecting flights.
he wasn't famous but I nearly missed my flight and only heard my name on the final call.
 
On an African slant I met a bloke from Rhodesia (that's what he called it) in Schipol Airport at 0600hrs and we got absolutely bladdered while waiting for our connecting flights.
he wasn't famous but I nearly missed my flight and only heard my name on the final call.
To be fair "B42T" does sound like some sort of airport security code rather than a passenger name for a flight.
 
Talking of Saffers that reminds me....

2002 and I was imbibing lots of red wine in a beach hotel in Arniston Bay, South Africa when a helicopter landed right outside on the garden of the hotel.

Jacobus Francois Pienaar and his wife get off the heli, walk into the hotel and stand right next to me and my 2 drinking companions at the bar.

We all asked and had our pictures taken with him even though (no duff) I didn't have a scooby who he was. (I am a cricket bob not a rugby bob).

Nice bloke though, and his wife too, after a few more drinks they got back on board and off again.

Don't know about you, but even as I am typing this I am falling asleep.............

That is opulent, I have to pile into the back of an imax for my courtesy bus to the boozer, however the natives here dont try and murder everyone for 10 pence and some River Island clothes.
 
I stalled a Slingsby T21 near Whipsnade and can still remember the way the chalk lion whirled round and round as I desperately tried to recover the aircraft. I also still remember the screaming in my ears, before finally realising it was the instructor howling "Don't fight me!!!!!"
I’ve had a similar moment with a student.
As I recall the conversation from my part may have been along the lines of.
“IF YOU DONT WANT TO DIE, FEET OFF PEDALS AND LET GO OF THE STICK….. NOW!”
Im still here because he did. It was the point of Ayre spinning around though in my case.!
 
I took the fat bearded bloke off the indiana Jones films ( Rhys- Davies I think he was called) for a flying lesson. We needed lots more horsepower than I had at hand to enjoy his lesson.
 
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