My flight down Africa 10-13 February 1936

Abstract

I landed at Cape Town as fresh as a daisy despite a series of adventures during my record flight from England, unequally by anything in my twenty-one years' flying experience. At least three times during the past three days I felt that all was up with me, and that so far from breaking the record I should break my neck. Over the Mediterranean, in the Soudan, and again in Rhodesia, I went through adventures which I do not want to endure again. In these days of safe and easy flying I scarcely feel inclined to tell the full story of them for fear that my friends might think I was "shooting a line of tripe." And I realised then that I could not have succeeded but for the marvellous support of my machine and engine, considering the really terrible weather conditions that I encountered at various stages of the flight. Horrifying weather on Saturday evening, just about twenty-four hours before I reached Cape Town, made me certain that my flight was prematurely ended. Here came the greatest adventure of the trip. [excerpt]