Commentary on "The Good Old Days" of Airline Travel

[renfrew]

I had a look on e-bay just now and they have one of the Pan American plates listed.
There was a similar set of very attractive Imperial Airways plates which I have occasionally seen on offer.

[V2-OMG!]

Overfly, THANKS so much.

I was drooling over all of them!

[dhavillandpilot]

These journeys are still possible in something other than a set powered coke can

Although not in the same league as one of the empire flying boats. Have a look at this web site http://www.heronairlines.com.au/aust...ustolondon.pdf these people flew a metro liner from Australia to London and return with paying passengers. Apparently they are doing it again next may 2009

[Blacksheep]

A very different situation from the "silver service" days of yore.

What a load of tripe - there are and never were any "Good Old Days." The best days, as always, are right now.

Compare those "silver service" days properly with top-of-the-line travel today. In the Boeing Clipper/Shorts Empire days, EY was by ship - and second or third class at that. All air travel was first class by definition and the experience and service was rubbish compared to what you'd receive today on an SIA "Suite Class" trip. And, since the equivalent of "Suite Class" was also by ship - but in First Class - what you really need to compare those "Good Old Days" with is the Private Jet.

[zimbird]

Captain O.P. Jones was my Grandfather

So sorry; it has been a while... make that West Chiltington, Pulborough, on his address in the '70s

I was doing a web search on my Grandfather, Captain O.P. Jones & was pleased to find your thread.

My father, Peter (also Captain O.P. Jones, as is my brother -- minus the 'Capt.' -- the initials O.P. being a generations old family tradition always bestowed on the first born son) was a bomber pilot in Burma in WWII.
He was my Grandfather. O.P. Jones' only child. He met my mother at the local swimmimg baths in Bulawayo, Rhodesia, whilst on a weekend pass from training for his Burma tour of duty.
My dad came straight back to Rhodesia after the war to marry my mum. I am the youngest of three children (girl, boy, girl) with my brother being the last in the line of O.P. Joneses as he did not have any sons; only one daughter.
As my father died following a 4 year illness, an acute form of encephlomyalitis when I was 10 yrs old, my siblings and I are keen to find out if anyone out there remembers him and can supply us with their own recollections and memories of Peter.
We met my grandfather a few times as children in Rhodesia and I subsequently spent occasional periods of time at his home on Spinney Lane in West Chiltington, Sussex between 1972 and 1975 when I lived in London in my early twenties and also worked for B.O.A.C. which became B.A. whie I worked for them.
We never got to meet our Grandmother, Olive Jones who died from we know not what, when we were still children.
Should anyone reading this also happen to have met or known both O.P. AND Olive Jones, it would be very valuable to me personally to find out what you knew about her.
As far as my Grandfather goes, he was an aloof, distant man, more of an animal lover than he was with his fellow human beings, and ever the straight-backed, dignified Gentleman, unless and until, to the perpetrators' misfortune, he witnessed cruelty towards animals. THEN woe-betide the poor soul who hurt that animal!

[Mr Oleo Strut]

Trooping flight culinary memories...

What memories this brings back as a child of Airwork and Britavia Hermes trooping flights to and from Kenya...arriving at Khartoum in a very hot aircraft, the aircraft doors opening with such a blast of hot air ... searing heat on our way over to the terminal...and what did they give us to eat...steaming hot brown stew, carrots and mash...I can still remember the large carafes of iced water with the condensation running down the outside. But Dad wouldn't let us drink the water 'in case it was dirty' ...talk about torture! Late-night arrival at RAF Luqa, Malta, after a very rough flight from Entebbe...and we sat down to the greasiest, cold egg and bacon breakfast. Revolting! Opening up the in-flight cardboard box of food doled out at Blackbushe and finding the tiredest of old ham sandwiches, accompanied by a black banana and sad apple. Luckily Mum had brought a couple of packets of chocolate Kunzle cakes...remember them? Another night landing...at El Adem, Libya, for dinner...but the terminal was deserted...they'd got tired of waiting and gone home, leaving just cold tea and biscuits. But it wasn't all bad and I still savour the wonderful taste of army sausages, chips and tinned tomatoes at Nairobi on our arrival. Happy days!