Turns out the tow-bar people fetched the parts for the wrong car ~ again ~ so I'd no choice but to hire a van. And here it is at a service station on the M5, enroute to Somerset where it will be wired up with all eight propellers and, all being well, flown. One of the few benefits of the Covid-19 pandemic is that the roads remain quieter than usual and I cover the 420 miles in around seven hours, including a break in either direction. In my books that's an average of sixty m.p.h. and a tribute to this old Ford.
