P.M. or Prime Monster? That is the question?!

As stated in the Sun 'news comic' - Is Gordon Brown the P.M. or the "Prime Monster?!" With previous antics of smashing mobile phones against the room walls of No.10 Downing St., in fits of anger with his 'minions'. That's one way of disposing of now regarded unfashionable and unwanted electronic devices!
 
Then scowling and going on long sulks during meetings, and not communicating with anyone thought less important than our 'Great Leader' (Dictator) Gordon, for substantial periods of time. All of this has been repeated and reported many times in the past; so it comes as no surprise when lower orders of government, resort to 'blabbing' on bullying complaint phone help lines, when Gordon throws his weight around, and they also report sick off the 'No.10 school' for some time.

Then the next public relations fiasco after reeling out the minister 'clones', all saying how human and concerned 'Big Brother Gordon' really is, despite his dour control obsessive, robotic like public image; was the attack on the Chancellor of the Exchequer, after stating the plainly obvious, that we were in the worst economic mess for 60 years! 
More bullying "Forces from Hell unleashed" from No.10, from the candid admissions this weekend, by the normally mild mannered Labour's 'Economic and Political punch ball', Alistair Darling in charge of the doomed Chancellors job from Hell! He had to admit that the bullying press releases attacking him, originated from Gordon as well.

As for the opposition waiting for government?! 'Chameleon Cameron' still busy going around in ever increasing 'U turns' over Conservative economic policies, about swingeing budget cuts, and not wanting to scare the average 'Joe Public' too much. Then the childish squabbles in Parliament, trying to make the "Bully" name calling smear stick to "Our Leader Gordon", with the house erupting into a 'zoo like' shouting and name calling match, which makes the public respect M.P's even less.


I know the start of the pre-election silly season is here, but it all just makes you want to weep with frustration at times, at the stupidity of politicians and Parliament these days. Could you really vote for this lot of dishonest money grabbing crooks at the next General Election?!





David Cameron suddenly realising the big flaws in Conservative policies!

Crane Park in Winter.

It's been one of those things that I've been meaning to do for ages, but never got round to it. Visiting Crane Park in Hounslow, which is a wildlife park and has the noted historical Shot Tower located in the middle if the grounds. So I decided when the weather got a bit better, to go on a long walk to find this noteworthy place.

I made the effort about a week ago, on an unusual almost spring like sunny day, where if you sat on one of the numerous wooden park benches, you could actually feel a bit warm in the sun!
Named after the River Crane, which threads it's way through the woodland, which can be more like a small meandering stream when water levels are low, then turning into a fast flowing swollen river, with a spell of prolonged heavy rain.

                                                         River Crane view at one of the weirs.

When I visited, it was running fast with a lot of rainwater. And off the main asphalt path, the other paths around were either waterlogged or very muddy. 

Towards the centre of Crane Park is the imposing looking Shot Tower, built in the 18th Century to produce various grades of gunpowder for the army, and was used up to 1926. It was designed in such a way to be resistant to an explosion - The roof would just get blown off by a gunpowder explosion, if the event ever happened. Thankfully the theory was never put to the test!

                                                        The Shot Tower in Crane Park

Never far away, is the reminder that the tranquil looking park is in the vicinity of Heathrow Airport! And whilst I was there, a Singapore Airlines Airbus A.380, and various other large wide bodied airliners, such as British Airways B.747-400's and Boeing 777-200's, 'thundered' over on their departure routes.  

Wandering back along the main path through the woodland, there is almost a rural feeling in the middle of Hounslow in West London, with the river winding around and creating small islands, some with allotments on, for people to grow their own vegetables amidst the trees. 

                                                           Typical Winter view in Crane Park

It's quite a long walk around the park, and I needed a rest after a while, on one of the welcoming looking wooden benches!

Early memories of Heathrow Airport.

Just remembered again, very recently, my earliest memories of visiting Heathrow Airport!
The first memory was around 1966, when I got taken there by my parents to pick up my uncle arriving on a flight from from New York.
I can just remember being in a car and driving towards the tunnel, from the perimeter road, and could see several interesting looking pale blue and white aircraft, that were Pan Am Boeing 707's parked around Terminal 3.
We then picked him up from the Pan Am arrivals area, which all seemed very 'exotic' and interesting at that time, and that was my first memory!

The next experience of Heathrow, was around 1972, when we went to meet my grandmother, who flew on an Austrian Airlines (nicknamed AUA by the Austrians) flight from Vienna. The area near Hounslow West and Henley's roundabout, was now a large building site, with a rough looking temporary road provided for the traffic going to the airport. All this building effort over several years, was the construction of the new underground rail link, to Hatton Cross and the airport from Hounslow West station. This time, when being driven to the Central Area, I saw both Pan Am and the red and white colours of TWA, plus a couple of South African Airways Boeing 707's, with their colourful orange tails.

We had to wait around for some time on the viewing terrace, which in those days, was one of the best around. Unfortunately that morning, it was a grey dull cool late summer's day, with the typical airport windy conditions, and I remember that it was also feeling damp.
There were no aircraft movements for some time, and very few parked around the stands, giving the impression that this part of the airport was deserted! Feeling bored, I was glad to see the eventual arrival of the sleek and elegant looking, red and white Austrian Airlines Caravelle 6R airliner, taxying up to the Terminal 2 parking stand with the distinctive high pitch compressor wailing sounds of it's Rolls Royce Avon turbojet engines.

                                                         With thanks to RinkRatz / Flikr for the picture

The 'AUA' flight was running a bit late, and we were glad to make our way to the warmth of the Terminal 2 arrivals area, where I met my grandmother. She complained a bit about the cramped seats at the back of the aircraft cabin, next to the engines, and the engine noise as well during the flight!

Many years later, I eventually got a chance to fly on a CTA Caravelle 10R, and found it comfortable with plenty of legroom and relatively quiet in the cabin, regarding engine noise, so I must have been lucky!

Victoria and Albert Museum exhibition visit.

It's been a while since I've visited the Victoria and Albert Museum in London. It has been undergoing an extensive re-decoration and re-organisation for several years, and seems almost finished now. A few weeks ago, I decided to return and see an exhibition there.

Whilst I was looking around, I noticed an art installation in the courtyard, from the Decode digital images exhibition.

The rectangular blocks comprise of large grids of white light emitting diodes, which put together, produce images seen by the tiny integral video cameras.

A close up, shows the interesting effects produced by the installation, also reflected in the water.

I did want to visit the Metropolitan Police exhibition of forged valuable art works, but the queues went on for ages, and I didn't get the opportunity to visit the exhibition that day - it was just too popular!

When I eventually get the inspiration, if there is still anyone interested out there?! I will try to put together the next episode of "B.A. or my Life?!"....

B.A. or my Life?!.... The Second Chapter - Still waiting time!

Chapter Two.     Still waiting time!

I now found myself one early October Saturday morning, in a large grass field in Dunstable, near Luton airport in Bedfordshire. The cool stiff breeze blew across Dunstable Gliding Club, with the sun trying to shine at times, through the broken white and grey ragged clouds in the Autumnal sky.

So what was I doing there in these rural surroundings? After passing my 'O' Level exams, I decided to have a go at gliding, and experience the feeling and supposed freedom of unpowered flight. There was an adult education gliding evening class, starting at the beginning of September at the local college in Chiswick, and with a bit more spare time on my hands, and being just about old enough to enrol, I decided to give it a go.
I attended evening classes once a week, for a few weeks, with the lecturer being an elderly man who looked like he was at, or close to retirement age, but came across as being a very experienced glider pilot . Learning the basics of glider flying and airfield circuit patterns - the typical takeoff, crosswind leg, base leg, downwind, and finals pattern, until it could be drawn on paper by memory! and the typical airspeed and altitudes to be flown.

Then after a few weeks, my time came in October to actually go flying in a glider - just when the weather starts to get colder! Being young and foolish, I didn't think of wearing my warmest clothes; and I would certainly have needed them that day.
We met up at the pre-arranged place quite early in the morning, at Chiswick High Street by a pub, and I got a lift in a (I think it was a bronze coloured) Renault 5 hatch back car, taking the four of us expectantly up to Dunstable Gliding Club.

Unfortunately our driver smoked, so we had to suffer the odour of her Consulate cigarette smoke wisps and puffs (the ones that were advertised at the time on T.V. and posters, supposed to be as "Cool as a mountain stream"?!), winding their way around the inside of the car; destined to share the 'pleasure' around, of the smell of burnt leaves and paper! I thought that the smell of these fags, were more reminiscent of a 'cool' advertising image, of a murky chemical and rubbish, oil polluted stagnant water course, sluggishly flowing into an old industrial canal!!! I remember that I opened the side window a bit for a while, to get some fresh air, and let some of the tobacco smoke out, but had to close it after several complaints, that it was getting too cold inside the car! The ashtray conditions inside, had to be endured for the rest of the trip.
The typical route via the North Circular, up to North London and the M1 motorway was taken, and with moderate traffic on the roads, we arrived at the gliding field in good time. We pulled up into to the basic gravel covered car park, and with relief, I got out of the car into the clear morning air!

When we got there, there was some sun in the sky amidst the broken clouds sweeping past. I was feeling a bit cool as we walked past the agricultural barn looking low hangars, past some gliders pulled outside, and a couple of glider towing light aeroplanes parked up, waiting for a day's work. A steady wind blew in our faces, whilst walking across the short cropped grass towards our ancient looking instructor! and our practical tutorial experience. Our glider was resting near several others, rigged up and ready for flying. The first impressions were that it looked as old as our flying instructor!

With thanks to the quirks of the internet 
for finding this ancient advertising image!

Constructed mainly of stretched doped canvas and plywood, this was an orangey red coloured, high wing open cockpit Slingsby T.21 side by side two seater, with a British Gliding Association (BGA) registration painted on the tail in black. The glider wasn't really suitable for an air tow to get airborne, plus we couldn't afford the aircraft towing charges! so it had to be a ground tow, using a large diesel powered ground winch unit to get us up into the sky.
Our group of at least six of us, were then organised into a rota of duties to be done, during the glider flights. In what seemed to be quite a long day, I spent most of my time on Marshalling duties, helping push the heavy glider around the field to the take off area, recovering the tow winch cable, and signalling the tow winch operator to "Take up slack", off the tow winch cable, by waving a large round red and white sign on a pole, to and fro. We also took it in turns to connect the winch cable end to the glider tow hook, so to spread the safety responsibility amongst us!

                                                                   Thanks to Nimbus227 for the 
                                                                   Slingsby T.21 picture.

I did manage to get some spare time to have a chat with the other students, and watch the operations at the airfield; seeing both the yellow Piper Cub and the blue and white De Havilland Chipmunk go back and forth, towing the more sophisticated gliders into the air. The sonorous propeller sounds of these two piston engined aircraft, reverberated regularly around the glider field as they took off with a glider in tow, and landed again soon after, on their own.

Eventually it got to my turn, to have a flight in the antique glider aircraft, that I had spent so much time already pushing around in the grass! Clambering into the small cockpit with the instructor, we were both tightly strapped in the rather hard seats. The faint smell of paint and glue encompassed us, and I looked at the grey painted instrument panel with it's minimal array of elderly instruments, the spoiler operating lever, and the tow line release lever with the big red knob. Our turn was coming soon to take to the air, and the weather suitably obliged by clouding over almost completely!

The tow cable was connected, and the dual control joystick and rudder pedals were checked for correct movement. By us, the white and red round sign was waved overhead to signal a tow winch take off. At first, the movement was slow as the cable tightened on the ground, and we bounced along the grass on the single wheel and landing skid on the bottom of the fuselage, with one person on each side supporting the wing tips, as we gathered speed. Soon we found ourselves airborne climbing up rapidly, being pulled into the now gloomy sky by the steel tow winch cable. When the cable was almost vertical at about 700 feet, according to the vintage three pointer altimeter, I was told by the instructor to pull the red cable release knob. There was a "clunk" sound and the glider lurched a bit, as the cable fell quickly down to earth. 
The erratic reading ancient airspeed indicator was showing about a 'flickering pointer' 65 knots (nautical miles per hour), and the variometer for indicating vertical speed, was already indicating a steady rate of descent. There was also the 'luxury' of a turn and slip indicator as well, to show correctly co-ordinated flight. Not much hope of that, with me at the controls at the moment!



Thanks to rsw617 for the video clip, which shows a typical winch tow with a typical flight time in a T.21! And yes, it does deserve laughing at!

I was soon to find out that the vintage Slingsby with the aerodynamics of a brick, (if you throw a brick hard enough, it will appear to fly!) was struggling just a bit to stay level, especially in gusting winds! The instructor was endeavouring to show me how to keep the 'Brick's' nose up, level to the horizon. No chance of 'thermals' (uplifts of strong warm air currents) today to keep us aloft in the sky. There were a lot of sensory experiences and views to take in at the same time, and I was meant to be looking at the the wartime style flight compass, and following a compass heading, but I didn't have a clue! Things were happening really quickly now, and the 'Brick' wanted to follow gravity as quickly as possible, and return to the ground where it felt more at home! The circuit was rushed because of our low height, and I had very little time to get a feel of the controls. It was freezing up there in the cockpit! with the wind whistling around us, and the airframe. I did have just about enough time to see the patchwork shapes of verdant greens and autumnal colours of the Bedfordshire landscape stretch out into the distance all around us, with the horizon fading into the grey sky. We could see Luton airport not far away, and the occasional aircraft departing.

Within five minutes, the instructor had guided the 'Brick' onto the glider field approach, and my feet felt frozen, and I could hardly feel my toes in my training shoes resting on the 'twiching' rudder pedals. Being a glider, there was only one chance at landing, and no second go at it! The approach had to be correct.
Before long, we passed over the field perimeter at approximately 40 knots, which was the landing speed, with the spoilers deployed in the wings to rapidly reduce the lift produced by them, and we touched down with a firm bump on the grass. The glider quickly skidded to a halt, and it was someone else's turn this time, to push the glider back to the take off area of the field!
The brief flying experience took about five minutes in total and felt like it had ended almost as soon as it had started. I seem to remember that it cost me £5, with £2 for the winch tow, all paid in cash! Quite an expensive experience in 1979 terms!
Unstrapped out of the uncomfortable bucket seat, I recall staggering out of the cockpit, trying to get the feeling and warmth back into my feet!
Then back to Marshalling duties yet again, until it was my turn eventually for a final second flight, before the weather got too bad and gloomy to fly in.

Whilst I was waiting, I had my binoculars with me and I saw an ex. American Airlines Boeing 707, now bought by Monarch and being prepared for lease on to Cyprus Airways, flying out of Luton possibly for a test flight. That seemed to be the highlight of the day at Luton! as the well used second hand airliner rumbled into the sky, leaving a small trail of dark grey smoke from the four early turbofan engines behind it, with the venerable jet aircraft soon to disappear into the cloud. This reminds me about the alleged true story of another ex. American Airlines B.707, that had been delivered to Monarch at Luton at about the same time, and had just undergone some maintenance work in the Monarch hangars.
It was also on a test flight, and soon after take off, developed a serious hydraulic leak from the undercarriage, which sprayed a large mist of Skydrol (aircraft hydraulic fluid) and drifted over the nearby Vauxhall car and van factory; onto some of Vauxhall's finest at the time, awaiting delivery in the giant car park! The Skydrol did its corrosive job quite well, and started to strip the paint off some of the brand new cars! An expensive flight for Monarch, as they apparently also received a bill for the cost of respraying the cars involved! 

I got another chance to 'brave' the elements in the cramped cockpit of the 'Brick', and again it was a quick five minute experience, following some other gliders back into the airfield, before the weather closed in for the day. Another £7 spent in discomfort! There weren't many more flights afterwards, and soon it was time to pack up for the day, and put the glider back into one of the hangars for a 'rest'. We needed a rest as well! after pushing that heavy weight across the field and back to its home. In the end, only one of us in the group got a single flight of over ten minutes that day, due to getting the good fortune of a sudden strong updraught of cold air reflected off the local hills.

Whilst recovering a bit, and £14 poorer! I did some sums in my head, and it worked out that it would cost me £60 an hour, without the cost of the tows included! Compared to about £30 to £45 an hour at the time, to learn to fly in a powered light aircraft. I decided that this gliding 'lark' was too expensive for me, and I resolved that when I got the chance (and the money!), I would have a go at flying light aircraft instead.
And that's the end of my gliding experience, only to be finished by having a long journey home. Even though we were all tired, somehow, the woman driver decided light up another Consulate and fill the car up with tobacco fumes yet again, and take a lengthy detour to somewhere near Hemel Hempstead, where she was booking an evening in a tacky looking, poor relation to a Las Vegas style local night club. I was already almost choking in the smoke when we arrived in the night club car park. And we were delayed there for some time, whilst she was sorting out her booking. Still, we had no choice since she was the driver, and it was her car!
Eventually we made it back to Chiswick via her house first, to drop something off, and then the side road off Chiswick High Street by the pub. By then, the cigarette smoke supposedly "Cool from that mountain stream" from the 'Consulate girl' had now reached the pit of my stomach, making me feel very queasy and car sick! I just made it out of the car in time, and felt sick as the car drove away into the busy traffic of the main road.
What a strange experience! and not to be forgotten in a hurry, as I walked slowly home wondering if it was worth it, and looking forward to my bed soon afterwards!

Back to another dose of reality, and another strange thing was that when I left school in November, I was advised to sign on at the local job centre, and apply for unemployment benefit. With plenty of spare time now on my hands, I duly followed this advice.

Soon afterwards in November, I received an appointment to attend an interview in the Unemployment Office located in Acton, near the Town Hall. This was to check if I qualified for unemployment benefit.
Suitably dressed in unemployed looking attire, wearing a black donkey jacket and old blue jeans, I think I presented the right image of the 'deserving unemployed'! I remember sitting in a government office, in a nondescript looking 1950's brown brick and concrete low rise office block. There were a panel of three civil servant staff sitting at a table in front of me, and the man who appeared to be in charge, was rather tubby, balding, and looked middle aged, wearing thick black rimmed glasses and also dressed in a grey nondescript suit, to perfectly blend in with the dull surroundings! Various questions were asked of me, the main one being; "Why are you claiming unemployment benefit?" I told them that I was now old enough to claim the benefit, and that I was advised to do so, since I had no job currently. If I had known how apparently humiliating the process was, and how I had to almost beg for the benefit, I wouldn't have bothered! The interview soon finished, and I left the office wondering why I went through the process.

The next step was to attend the 'signing on' queue, at the Power Road Unemployment Office. This scene was more like the one from the controversial 1979 Saatchi and Saatchi general election 'Labour isn't Working" poster. Except it was under the Conservatives now, who promised so much but now delivered too little, except rapidly rising unemployment to the then desperate electorate.

Another dull looking fluorescent lit office, where many hours were spent, with several long winding queues of unhappy, bored or resigned looking unemployed people, waiting to eventually get seen, and their application forms and other paperwork sorted out at the interview desks, by the overworked and unsympathetic Benefits clerks.
I returned to the vicinity about three years ago, visiting the Honda dealership for some boat engine spares, and wandering around the area, noticed that the Unemployment Office office had long gone (maybe they thought unemployment had been banished by then?!), and was now replaced by a BMW main office and parking lot on the site for new cars to be delivered - how times and affluence have changed!    

Eventually I got paid, and had to visit my local Post Office (also now gone!) every two weeks to cash the Giro Cheque, for a sum I seem to remember, that worked out to about £17 a week. Not much even back then, and there was the implied feeling that you felt like a 'scrounger' at the Post Office when claiming the paltry benefit.

                                                            Thanks to Conservative Party Archive 
                                                                                                     for the image.    

After a pleasant Christmas, with no school routine to return to in the New Year; I got another appointment letter from the DHSS (Department of Health and Social Security) in January 1980. A new decade with new prospects and possibilities.
This time it was to attend the Job Centre for an interview concerning looking for jobs. What followed was a confusing, almost humorous session in their orange, cream and brown carpeted offices. Sitting at the round blonde wood table with another 'vacant' looking woman Employment clerk, we had a pointless conversation going round in circles; where she told me that I should be looking for a job, otherwise my benefit would be stopped. I tried to tell her that I already had a job lined up, starting next month! She just couldn't understand what was going on for some time, until I finally made her comprehend that I was told to 'sign on' for unemployment benefit, even though I had a job to go to eventually! Subsequent to that meeting, I ignored all further DHSS correspondence, and with no surprise, the unemployment benefit payments soon stopped.
By a strange co-incidence for a third time! this Job Centre has also been closed down, and has remained empty and boarded up for over five years now. I wonder where the local unemployed go to these days? 

Time was ticking away, and days were passing until that eventful day in February, when I would be starting my new career in aviation. In between, I managed to get some winter sun with my parents, visiting Malaga in Spain via Madrid; staying at a Spanish friend of the family's flat for a couple of weeks. Despite the warm daytime sun, the Mediterranean sea was still icy cold when I once paddled my feet in it!
We got to fly on a B.A Trident Three and a Lockheed Tristar, plus a couple of Iberia Boeing 727-200's which was an interesting experience, using my father's airline staff travel concessions.

When I returned home to a cold London, there were only a few days left to go, to prepare myself for the next challenge. My first day at B.A.!

Hope anyone out there found it reasonably entertaining?! Keep looking out for the next episode of my aviation influenced life - which will be published eventually!