I still remember quite clearly the day that I was taken to Cark Airfield by my father for the first time. My father was, I believe, delivering wood and as a small boy, I was under strict instructions to remain in his wagon until he had completed his business. I can recall even now, how I was enthralled by the old control tower, the air raid shelters and the runways, though at the time I had no idea why.
I am, and have been from birth, an incurable romantic and like all those of this nature, I seem to have an instinctive sense of history. It is my experience, however, that there are very few sites on earth that convey the powerful atmosphere one experiences on an abandoned World War II airfield.