I can't remember the exact day, but I would have been looking forward to the School summer holidays and my very first trip abroad shortly thereafter and my very first aeroplane ride to boot.
We were going to Basle, ultimately Badgastein in Austria, from Heathrow and it was a B.K.S. Britannia.
On the day of the flight we arrived in the Wallace Arnold coach in time under a puter sky. Once in departures it was one delay after another, we eventually got airborne in darkness then we had to weather abort to Geneva, that suited me fine arrivning there about midnight. My parents and other adult passengers I don't believe were too impressed but my Brother and I were making the most of being up all night running around the spacious virtually empty terminal building.
When dawn came, we were able to sit outside the front doors looking across the pan and I recall a Swissair Friendship or Herald screaming away as it taxied in followed by a VC-10, not much long after we were away in a perfect sunrise over the Alps on our way to Basle!
And you try telling the young folk today that, and they won't believe you!
FB
