A miracle landing, and donkeys and surfers in Stockon-on-Tees (Rousse)

Despite all the warnings BP, EH and I all elected to take a flight during the terror alert. I should not have been surprised when about an hour from our destination the cabin lights went out and the air supply came to a sudden halt.

‘This is it then’, I thought. ‘Poor TPR. I hope that he forgives me for taking this flight, and gets over my death’.

I wondered whether the three of us should hold hands. It appeared, however, that the others had accepted that the three of us would go to our deaths alone.

Then something miraculous happened: the plane landed safely and we all disembarked unscathed.

My next trip was to Stockton-on-Tees to help keep the donkeys out of the way of traffic (specifically lorries) on Darlington Road, and photograph surfers.

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