In the late 1960s I attempted to learn to fly in the Cessna 150s of The Luton Flying Club. I flew my first solo off R/W 24 and circuits were flown to the south not to the north. I greased my landing on this occasion but was a little disappointed that my father, with whom I had left my wave band radio and was watching the proceedings, hadn't realised that I had soloed.
My second solo was pretty dreadful - attempting to land on 36. I think I had three goes at it - bouncing all over the place. I remember frantically twirling the trim wheel as I heaved the stick back and went around on a left turnout. Finally a call from ATC prior to the third approach -"Your instructor insists that you make a full stop landing." I thought "If only you knew!"
I hung up my flying goggles after this tho I still have a pole from time to time.
It was all quite exciting. Spin recovery high over the fields of Bedfordshire was exhilarating. Then there was the time when we got mixed up with a bunch of Spitfires during the filming of The Battle of Britain over Cambridgeshire. One really hairy moment came about when we were inbound to R/W 24 on top of cloud. As we slipped off the cloud what should we see about a hundred feet immediately below us - a bloody great big Monarch Britannia also inbound. All this was of course years before the Luton zone was established. Phew!