Just as I thought I had finished my visit to the Royal Air Force museum, I found they had an art gallery section as well. The whole arrangement here is some substantial that I’ll have to visit again to try and see everything that I missed when I visited last week.
This artwork is by Sybil Andrews (1898-1992) and she painted ‘Air Sea Rescue Launch’ in around 1942, and it is something of a splendid reminder that wartime art was not always interested in giving us handsome fighter pilots staring nobly into the middle distance. There are bold colours and a sense of urgency to the painting, it feels like quite a punchy artwork.
That, really, is the theme that justifies this riveting blog post, which is that the war depended on rescue, repair and the sort of practical work that rarely gets turned into legend. The museum panel notes that this was one of seven paintings Andrews made about boat building while attached to the Camouflage Development and Training Centre at Farnham Castle under the War Artists Advisory Committee, and that she was working for the Royal Air Force as an official war artist. I like it when infrastructure is at the centre, there are enough artworks of moments of great rescue at sea or of battle scenes.
This reversible destination board for Brussels and Paris, dating from around 1937 and once fitted to the steps used for boarding Imperial Airways aircraft at Croydon Airport, is a wonderfully matter of fact relic from the early age of international air travel. That things like this survive at all pleases me greatly, I like the symbolism.
There is something rather pleasing about the simplicity of it with no glowing screens, no urgent gate change announcements, no little electronic dramas and just a solid sign informing passengers that they were off to Paris. Or Brussels. Depending, of course, on which way round somebody had turned it.
I very much like air travel today, but I do wonder just how different it would have been. It would have been a more occasional treat with less security hassle, no worrying about whether bags fitted into the sizer and probably not having to deal with checking in on-line 24 hours before and wondering if the seating Gods had given me a middle seat.
During the Second World War, playing cards were slipped into prisoner of war camps because they looked harmless enough, but hidden inside them were escape maps, allowing captured airmen and soldiers to peel apart the layers and reveal useful geography once the card game was over.
I do wonder how opposing military authorities failed to spot this little arrangement, especially given that wartime censors were not always generally known for their relaxed attitude to suspicious parcels. Perhaps the cards looked too banal to deserve much scrutiny, or perhaps someone simply saw a pack of them and thought that prisoners deserved at least one modest pleasure before returning to the business of attempted escape.
Either way, I like the ingenuity and the museum thinks that these were produced around 1943. The International Spy Museum in the United States notes:
“To date, decks of these cards are said to have helped at least 32 people escape from Colditz Castle and prompted some 316 escape attempts.”
There were some very careless military authorities amongst the German troops letting this lot through.
This is one of the photos on display at the Royal Air Force museum and it’s in the section which honours those who received a Royal Aero Club Aviator Certificate. To achieve this, the pilot had to complete two 5km flights and one 50m altitude flight.
In the photo is Marcus Dyce Manton (1893-1968) who was born in Sheffield on 14 September 1893. He obtained his Aviator Certificate on 4 June 1912 and I have to comment on just how brave that must have been. It’s all very easy on a scheduled Wizz Air flight to find flying really quite interesting, it was slightly less decadent in 1912 and the risks were real and high. He obtained the nickname of the ‘Boy Looper’ and completed hundreds of ‘loop the loops’ which excited and delighted many at air shows. This all seems like a rather unusual relationship with danger as early aircraft did have that sub-optimal habit of falling out of the sky.
It was no surprise that Manton was an important part of what was then known as the Royal Naval Air Service, being appointed as the Head Pilot Instructor at Hendon (where the museum is now based) at the start of the First World War. Until 1918, there were separate divisions which were the Royal Naval Air Service, which was the air arm of the Royal Navy, and the Royal Flying Corps, which were part of the Royal Army.
After the end of the First World War, he worked as a test pilot for Samuel White and English Electric, later becoming involved in gliding through the London Gliding Club. During the Second World War he served with Armstrong Whitworth as a Service Liaison Officer, and afterwards worked with Hawker Siddeley. Manton managed to get a fine in 1941 for not having a current driving licence which seems an omission for someone who had a licence to fly aircraft.
Manton died in April 1968 in Dorset, having seen aviation progress from fragile early contraptions to the jet age, something which must have given him endless excitement over the decades. His son, Graham Ashley Leonard Manton (1910-2005), also became something of a hero in the air force during the Second World War.
This is quite a powerful exhibit, it’s the chapel that was at RAF Stanley in the Falkland Islands. Initially a tent had been used as the chapel, but the General Engineering Flight converted this shipping container to create something more appropriate by adding a door and two windows.
Inside the chapel, with the altar made out of wood off-cuts and spent shell cases.
Badges.
The chapel was dedicated by the Rev. Philip Sladen (?-2003) on 27 July 1983 and it remained open on the islands until 1986. It was then returned to the UK and has now been moved to this museum.
This is what the Royal Air Force museum calls a personal mine extraction kit. It’s a little collection of objects to ensure that lives can be saved by finding landmines, all something of a contrast to the large bits of military aircraft located nearby.
These are the instructions and I have to note that using these little bits of stainless steel prods to try and find land mines sounds like a sub-optimal way to spend an evening. I get annoyed at cryptic crosswords, so I can’t imagine the amount of patience and bravery must be involved to be crawling about in the sand somewhere trying to prod for mines.
I liked that the museum had made these little notes visible that were an aide memoir into the use of the kit, it made it seem really rather more real.
I’ve been meaning to visit this museum for a little while after having seen it from the train when travelling between Luton and London. The museum is free of charge and asks visitors to register online, but I don’t think it’s essential.
This exhibit is a briefcase from the 1920s that was owned by Sir Samuel Hoare, the 1st Viscount Templewood (1880-1959), who was a pivotal figure in the development of British civil and military aviation during the interwar period. Serving as the Secretary of State for Air on three separate occasions throughout the 1920s, he became a tireless advocate for the ‘imperial air routes’ that sought to connect the distant corners of the British Empire. Hoare was not merely a desk-bound administrator; he famously took to the skies himself, embarking on a landmark 10,000 mile flight to India in 1927 alongside his wife to demonstrate the safety and potential of long-distance air travel. In reality, at this time, air travel wasn’t entirely safe, but it was certainly right to make others aware of the potential.
In a different world, Hoare could have easily become Prime Minister and he remained one of the most important and influential Cabinet Ministers in the late 1930s and early 1940s. Unfortunately for him, Churchill didn’t like him and threw him out of Government when he became the wartime Prime Minister.
Hoare was one of the most important Ministers during the twentieth century in terms of the evolution of air travel. I like exhibits such as this as they’re a personal connection to a very different time during history and it’s something of a contrast to the huge bits of aircraft that are dotted around the rest of the museum.
[Apologies I published this early if anyone saw a half finished post!]
I was connecting at Katowice Airport to fly to London Luton, although there was no airside connection available. I also discovered that the security area at Terminal A wasn’t open for thirty more minutes, so the process was hardly rushed.
Mine was the 19:45 flight and I had the advantage of popping to the airport lounge, but I wrote about that separately.
The boarding process was all efficient, but there was a particular focus on checking bag sizes on this flight. The lady was walking down the queue and she spoke to me briefly before telling me that my bag was fine, but a fair few were being stopped and charged extra money. One guy was charged four times for his family, so around £320, so it was a profitable exercise for Wizz Air. Although, the rules are very clear, so the customers took a risk.
This lady was charged £80, she might have been a little unlucky. It’s fair to say that she wasn’t very pleased and she asked a couple of us whether we’d been charged as well.
The aircraft is 9H-WAD, yet another one that I haven’t been on before and this has been part of the Wizz Air fleet since 2022.
Everything was smooth and well managed yet again, although the seating Gods had given me a middle seat which wasn’t ideal. However, the flight was only two hours so it’s hardly traumatic. The flight cost the usual £8.99 with my Multipass and the aircraft was clean, the crew were friendly and everything worked as it should.
We landed into London Luton on time and I had a hotel just a short walk away from the airport, which is always something that I look forward to. This marked the end of my one week stay in Poland, Romania and Germany, another successful trip that was made a lot easier with my cheap Wizz Air flights.
After the train journey from Norwich, I had managed to arrive five hours early for my flight. So, that’s just right, no point in rushing these things. The security process was well managed and only took me a few minutes. I was slightly amused as a woman pushed in front of me, which didn’t concern me as I had five hours spare, but I was directed to another security line which had just opened so I went through much quicker. Karma and all that.
There’s a new menu at Big Smoke, this is the sort of exciting drama that keeps me inspired during travel…..
And very nice, the chicken tenders with hot honey sauce, alongside a non alcohol Stella. Definitely a menu upgrade.
Coffee acquired….
The food selection in My Lounge, which does seem to be getting better. They had the usual dirty cutlery there though, I’m never entirely convinced about their food hygiene standards, although I’d note that they hold a five star rating.
That’ll do as a snack, with a tea and a non alcohol Heineken which tastes of ditch water. A completely pointless beer, but I won’t go down that rabbit hole at the moment.
The lounge was pleasant enough, it was quite quiet, but all of the power points worked and there was food and drink.
That’s my flight at 19:45.
And safely at the gate where everything was clearly signed as usual.
The boarding process was smooth and efficient, with a friendly welcome from the cabin crew. As usual for Wizz Air aircraft, it was all clean and looked in a decent state of repair. The seating Gods gave me an aisle seat, but they also gave me an elderly lady in the seat next to me who fidgeted far too much and spent the flight tearing up bits of the in flight magazine so that she could keep the articles. It would have been easier to take the in flight magazine rather than leave the mutilated copy that she did.
One person clapped as the flight landed, but I was pleased to note that other passengers just looked annoyed at him and so hopefully he won’t do that again. The flight was otherwise as usual for Wizz Air, no drama and no delays, with the crew being friendly and efficient as they completed their service.
The aircraft was HA-LGI, yet another one that I haven’t been on before. This is an Airbus A321 which Wizz Air has had since early 2024. I could have done without the bus gate as I had just 32 minutes from landing to get the last train. This took longer than I would have liked if I’m being honest.
The border was relatively quiet, although there was a problem with the passenger in front of me and his European Entry System arrangement. Fortunately another desk was opened up and I was asked if I was aware I could only spend 90 days out of the last 180 days in the EU. I’m very aware of that and it annoys me, but it’s nice that the border control staff remind people. I did think for a while that the delay would mean that I missed the train, but I was fortunate on this occasion.
With that, I scuttled off to buy a 24 hour day ticket for the public transport in the city and meandered quickly to the railway station at the airport.
With around five minutes to spare, I made it, the last train into Warsaw city centre. This saved me faffing about with night buses…. And for £8.99 for the flight, I was once again pleased with the whole Wizz Air experience.
This wasn’t a rail journey of any great note, but sometimes the mundane still needs to be recorded. After a rather lovely few days at Beer Con, I departed early on Easter Monday morning from Norwich railway station. It was quiet, people were focused on their Easter eggs.
There’s the Greater Anglia train to Ely at the back of the platform.
This service was only going as far as Ely due to engineering works that prevented it from reaching the promised land that is Cambridge. That meant that most sensible people were going to London directly arriving into London Liverpool Street, but that was more expensive and so I wasn’t. Although there were points failure and sadly a suicide on that line, so it might likely have been a slower option anyway. It did at least mean a quiet and peaceful train service, as this line can get rather busy.
And arriving safely into the beautiful city of Ely.
Then the exciting bus replacement service from Ely to Cambridge. I was the last person to board this before they thought it had better get going and everyone else behind crowded onto what looked like a nicer bus. This one was far too hot, I’m surprised passengers didn’t get heat stroke, but the driver was quite chirpy although it might have been delirium caused by the heat.
After a quick visit to the new Tesco opposite Cambridge railway station, I meandered to the platform with around thirty minutes before my train. For reasons I’ve never quite understood, Thameslink trains seem to sometimes depart one minute before the scheduled departure time, which caused an argument as one passenger ran to the train to try and board before being shouted to stand back as it was about to depart. I was restricted by what train I could get with an advance ticket, so I had less need to rush.
I thought I would embark on my meal deal at this point and very unusually I didn’t go for the prawn mayo option as I felt that this was a chicken day. I should probably get out more….
The Thameslink train thundering into the station.
The Thameslink service, which left one minute before the departure time, remained relatively quiet, although as there are twelve carriages it’s not exactly limited for space. And, as part of my survey of global trends, I noted that a passenger had his feet on the seats. Not that I go on about this….
Farringdon station where I was changing for another Thameslink train to take me to Luton Airport Parkway. I’m not sure why the route took me through London St. Pancras to get to Farringdon, then went back that way, so I went to a station further south than I needed. There were some young football fans shouting something about “we are the blues, we are the blue army, who are we?” as if they’d forgotten. They were ignored by everyone, which I felt was positive.
And onto the next Thameslink train which was heading to Bedford. This was relatively quiet and everything was on time, so I arrived into the delights of Luton Airport Parkway station which is slightly less annoying when leaving it than arriving into it.
And the walk to Luton Airport, which is around twenty minutes as I refuse to pay for the shuttle as it’s too expensive. The ticket price for Norwich to Luton Airport Parkway was £22 and as it was on time, annoyingly, there was no Delay Repay…. The ticket didn’t work at the Cambridge or Luton Airport Parkway station barriers, but there were gateline staff to let me through. So, one Greater Anglia train, one Greater Anglia bus replacement and two Thameslink trains….
