But your chief concern, you find, is in the matter of breakfast; the air has given you an appetite that will not brook delay. A motor-car stands in readiness; so you take your seats and drive into Brighton, where you enjoy a leisurely meal. Then comes a drive along the sea-front in the beauty of the morning sun: and after this you return to the aerodrome, where the biplane stands waiting for its second flight. You have decided--wishing to remain by the sea--that you will fly on along the coast to Eastbourne, where there is another aerodrome at which you may alight. So, with a shout of farewell ringing in your ears, the big machine sweeps skyward--up swiftly and steadily, circling as she climbs; and then your pilot turns eastward, and you fly above the fringe of the sea. Along past Brighton the aircraft makes her way, and you note the people on the beach--looking no bigger than ants upon a path--as they stand in little groups and watch your progress. High above the piers the biplane flies, and you see the town lying mapped away inland, with the electric railway skirting the water’s edge. Then on swiftly, following the line of the cliffs, a cool sea-breeze beating into your face. The earth below seems to fade into insignificance; far-distant, skirting the brink of the cliffs like a thin, white ribbon, you see a lonely road; and all the time, climbing higher and higher through the sunshine, your pilot forces his plane aloft Three thousand feet, four thousand feet--still you ascend; and soon the needle of the height recorder stands at 5000 feet. Newhaven is now below, with its river winding away inland; and a superb view, which includes water, sea, and land, is spread at your feet. On you fly, with the machine swaying a little every now and then, as it encounters such wind eddies as are formed where sea meets land. With the heat increasing, these aerial disturbances grow marked, and your pilot swings more seaward, so as to avoid the influence of the swirls which rise upward above the cliffs. Beachy Head is quickly reached, with its lighthouse showing clearly. Now your pilot turns north-east, and quite soon you are over Eastbourne, and planing down to reach the flying ground. This second stage of your tour is shown in Fig. 99. Again, when you have alighted, there is a greeting from airmen and their friends; then, while you examine some aeroplanes in their sheds, and discuss the pleasures of your trip with those about you, the pilot of your machine has made an overhaul and is ready again to take the air. [Illustration: FIG. 99.--Shoreham to Eastbourne, 33 miles.]