In 1977 the president of the Swiss Aeroclub asked me whether some of their planes might accompany me on the flight across the desert to Cameroon. They wanted to seize the opportunity to have a helicopter with them as an emergency measure on their high-risk enterprise. And so I had an escort of twenty-two planes. No, not really an escort of course, because they all flew much faster than I did and they went ahead of me. This was my fourth crossing. We had arranged to meet up again in Olbia, Sardinia.