Test, Fame and Glory

I love that in the early 1900s aeroplanes were met with both trepidation and fascination (a lot of people had all their eggs firmly in the zeppelin basket). But one thing's for sure - the pilots of these early craft certainly didn't fly below radar (pardon the pun). They were celebrities. The pre and interwar period in particular saw pilots jostling to break records, flying faster, higher and further, and often (in the UK anyway) encouraged by dizzying prize money offered by the Daily Mail.

This being pre-pressurised cabin-days, mean't all sorts of dangerous and giddy attempts at world firsts including the first Atlantic hop (16 hours) by Captain John Alcock and Arthur Whitten (10 grand and a Knighthood, thanks) and the first attempt to successfully fly over the summit of Mount Everest in 1933 (almost 33, 000 feet). Flight Lieutenant David Fowler McIntyre and Douglas Douglas-Hamilton managed it in just over 3 hours in a plane that looks terrifyingly toothpick-y, and required both pilots to wear heated electric flying suits.

Other cool test pilots include:
Chuck Yeager who broke the sound barrier in 1947, proving going that fast doesn't turn you into steaming blancmange or a robot's fart, Eric 'Winkle' Brown, who has flown more aircraft types than anyone else in the world and Maria Popovich who set 107 world records on 40 different craft.

And of course, a ton of astronauts. Including Neil Armstrong. Listening to BBC Radio 4 recently I was absorbed by an interview with author and journalist Andrew Smith. He was talking about test pilots in relation to the Virgin Galactic crash, and the conversation naturally segued into space travel and his book Moon Dust, an affecting account of the men who went to space, so many of whom had test pilot backgrounds. I bought the book. I am half way through. I can feel my life changing.

So there it is. Test pilots. The pioneers, prize winners and famous dare devils who became the bridge between aeronautics and astronautics. The thread that ties it all together.

Which of course, now flings this blog wide, wide open...

Your pressure keeps lifting me higher, than I've ever been lifted before

After my last entry focussed on the incredible out-window barfing that happened on commercial planes in the 20s and early 30s, my thoughts turned to the comparatively less dramatic (but no less skilled) branded in-bag barfing that accompanied the age of the pressurised cabin. Other added bonuses included higher speeds and higher altitudes without sacrificing good people to hypoxia and enlarged hearts (you only want one of those if it's a metaphor for you being totally ace.)

The Boeing 307 Stratoliner was the world's first commercial plane with a pressurised cabin, in 1938. And the first pressurised commercial jet airliner (designed to pop up to 36,000 feet) was the British De Havilland Comet (1949).

Boasting large, square windows it looked dreamy. Until it crashed in 1954. Twice. From metal fatigue. But the best thing to come out of the true horror of that double disaster was a simple change in design. The corners of the De Havilland's fancy square frames we're to blame. Wonder why all jet planes have oval windows? As soon as the problem was uncovered, the only way was (quite literally) up, and the only shape was round.

Sometimes cutting corners totally works out...

Now for some gratuitous plane pictures from my pressurised friend Ryan Air. The journey was Stanstead to Barcelona. We had to wake at 5am to get this flight. 5am. That's time's equivalent to the highest altitude ever.

One in one out...

Pyranees.

Some doofus who thinks she's a 6-year-old boy.

Chunks blowing chunks: Imperial Air-weighs

In the early days of overseas civil aviation you were weighed before you boarded the plane. An indignity only tempered I'm sure by the fact if you were flying anywhere in 1930s Britain, you were very rich indeed, and ate only cucumber and money sandwiches.

Fat, affluent, embarrassed and on your way to Singapore by air. It's not terrible really...

I couldn't find any pictures of this discourteous but hilarious act of bureaucracy. So enjoy a man in a hat instead.

Fun fact:
An Imperial Airways ticket from London to Singapore in today's prices would be around £11000. And involve about eight pit-stops.

Fun fact 2:
Low flying altitudes meant insanity turbulence, which often lead to passengers following that sicky-burp right through to its epilogue and ensuing sequel. The best way to off-set the vom smells aboard your average Armstrong Whitworth? Open a window of course.

Man, I love the past.

Around The World in 80 Friends...

 '1972. Monarch Airline's Boeing 720B en route to Pula (in then Yugoslavia) from Luton Airport, England. Delayed so late into the night, we saw dawn on landing.' - Nigel & Virginia Vivian.

 'October 2002. Flying over Mount Pinatubo. This is the volcano that erupted in 1991 and hastened the US military departure from the Philippines.' -Tim Layman.

 'July 2012. Grainy Manhattan sunset. Stonking hot day, 38 degrees C. Landed 8 hours later in Manchester to torrential rain. Classic.' -Shaun Lowthian.

 'February 2010. Calgary Alberta, Canada. I left a balmy, humid summers day in Aukland, New Zealand and got home to -35 degrees C.' - Jessica Fremont.

 'Summer 2012. The London Olympic Stadium taken from a Virgin Atlantic plane coming back from Chicago during the olympics.' - Lloydie James Lloyd.

 'November 2013. Approach to Dublin from London. Liz Peters and I were our way to Ireland's first Improv Festival to perform and teach with the Maydays. It was an absolute blast.' - Me.

'March 2014. JFK, New York. Delta plane bound for London. Never have I boarded a plane so reluctantly.' - Me.

 'April 2013. Ryanair. To Dublin!' - Katy Schutte.

'2013. Flying from San Francisco to San Diego. My first American tour. What sky!' - Adam Hayes

'December 2013. Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Onwards to Vietnam! Honeymoon odometer at 10, 086 miles by this point.' - Lewis Harrison-Barker

'June 2012. Gatwick to Antalya, Turkey. This is the south coast of England, the channel and a bit of France I think.' - Jason Guy.

'July 2014, Charles De Gualle airport. It was 5am, I was juggling a hangover with a pulled ham-string from winning an egg and spoon race...' - Jules Munns.

'October 2014. Salt Lake at sunset. Is it silly that I arrived in Salt Lake City four days after watching Book of Mormon?' - Rachel Lyons.

'25 May, 2014. Flying from Las Vegas to Philadelphia. Found out that Raspberry Lemon Drop cocktails are the most delicious drinks.' - Claire Kielczewska.

'October 2014. Amsterdam to London.' - Sarah Fletcher.

'October 2014. For your collection. Flying home from Lanzarote. You can just about see the shore line in the sun's refection.' - Anand Rao

'November 2014. Barcelona to Gatwick after Big If Improv festival. I got the time completely wrong - the flight was leaving an hour later than I thought. So I managed to catch a few Z's in the duty free area, bought a dirty McDonalds and read a few chapters of my book.' - Jason Blackwater.

'November 2014. Dublin to London. I had a very decadent morning - a mulled rum before midday! I was walking through the Christmas market in Dublin and I realised if I didn't want to buy mulled drinks and sausages for all my presents then I shouldn't be in a Christmas market as that's all they sell. But they feel cuddly and festive. I heart Christmas!' - Liz Peters.

'March 2015. En route to Latvia from London. Reading an amazing book which explains air through describing scientific breakthroughs. Really nicely written.' - Sarah Fletcher.

'February 2015. London to Dublin. I discovered the power of the neck pillows and read about the third Everest expedition.' - Jules Munns.

'Earlier this year. Landing in South Carolina to meet my Grandfather for the first time. I made a muppet version of him.' - Emma Frankland.

'April 2015. Flying from London to Vietnam. My suitcase got lost in transit in Abu Dhabi when we switched planes. It was half full of things for my sister and niece. When I arrived in Vietnam I had to wear my sister's clothes and hope for it's safe arrival!' - Henri Roe.

'March 2015. Flying from San Jose to Anaheim, California. I was en route to hang out with improv buddies in Orange County. It was possibly the worst flight of my life. Horrendous turbulence. Aborted landing. People screaming, crying and praying... and I elbowed the passenger next to me, lol!' - Neil Curran.

'May 2015. We flew from London to Barcelona to escape the election results in the UK. And we saw a man dressed as an inflatable penis.' - Do Not Adjust Your Stage gang.

'April 2015. I took this on the way to visit my niece in Atlanta. It's looking south on the lower half of Manhattan with the glaring abomination called Times Square being prominent. Brooklyn on the left and New Jersey is on the right.' - Tim Layman.

'June 2015. About to take off for Chicago. We are double yolk eggs for breakfast at 5.45am.' - Katy & Tony

'Granada 2015. Our land lady in Granada told us that the clouds were actually secret military anti-gravity devices...' - Emma Frankland.

One Star Fits All

North Korea's airline Koryo is the only one star international carrier in existence.

(Pic cred: Joseph Ferris III)

However, it hasn't had accident since the mid 80s (well, that we know of) so I'm guessing the lack of stars is more a commentary on it's eccentricity over anything else. For example the in-flight 'entertainment' is propaganda soaked to the max, marching music plays on take-off and those who've sampled the food could call it curious at best. And of course the fact that it's run by a repressive country with a deplorable human rights record (which is likely why, although it flies to six foreign countries, it's banned from landing anywhere in the European Union.)

Another of it's quirks is that most of the fleet are old Russian made Antonov's, Tupolevs, or Ilyushins; lumbering metal monsters with interiors that have more in common with formica laminated caravanning in the 70s than the gloss and functionality of aviation today. From a purely geek-bag point of view I just love a plane that's essentially an archaic rust-bucket. And for that reason my favourite is the Il-62. Described by one blogger as a cold-war passenger jet, it comes complete with bakelite window shades, overhead baggage racks that don't close and 'climbs like a fighter jet.' (Apparently the descents are equally 'military' - grab a hold of your propaganda branded vom-bag, quick.)

(Photo cred: Joseph Ferris III, americaninnorthkorea.com)

Some of the fleet are newer however, thanks to maestro of hair-dont's Kim Jong Un and his penchant for flying. His dad wasn't keen, but now they've got someone from the royal collective to endorse the national carrier, more attention is being paid to making it look a little less like an act of relic preservation.

But who flies? Given that most people are struggling when it comes to essential human needs and rights like food, nutrition and ahem, freedom, it's unsurprising to find it's mostly military officials and the government elite.

Here's a couple of weird things to expect on a Koryo flight:
- Air floss! The potential of misty cabin condensation as the air con struggles to exist.
- Revolutionary marching band music on take-off
- Propaganda heavy in-flight 'films' (don't expect plot).
- Propaganda heavy reading material: Pyongyang Times or a propaganda mag.
- Noisy engines if it's an old Sovio-plane. According to avio-blogger Bernie Leighton (a man who will go 'anywhere on anything' - amazing) the mechanics of the Il-62 engines means on taxi and takeoff, the volume goes nuts - at a super high frequency. It's normal. But also weird.

(Il-62 engine motto: scream if you want to go faster)

Some of the more amusing nuggets of passenger reviews and comments on air travel rating site Skytrax, go like this:

'Helpful friendly staff! But the cabin was full of fog.'
'BOTH pilots came to say hello to the dignitaries with me...'
'The lavs are impeccable.'
'There was a demonstration of the use of life jackets. At night.'
'They showed a North Korean concert on a loop.'
'The flight attendant held the wall on take-off.'
'Wonderfully nostalgic. Dry ice and folk music in the cabin. Plus the Thai football team!'

(Photo cred: Bernie Leighton)

Weirdest of all, Air Koryo is on Twitter. But given their last 'update' was in 2012, don't expect a flurry of fancy gifs or pithy puns any time soon. But I'm following them, so I'll keep you posted...

Taking the plane out for a stroll

Minimum velocity take offs are legit tests as part of certification processes for planes. Because the plane goes slow, the nose up has to be higher and therefore the tail can scrape the runway.

But isn't it nice to know your air-dog (the giant A380 in this clip) can lumber into the air at such a low pace?

If you're up for some fancy aeronautical engineering factoids on takeoff speeds, take a look at this: Aerospaceweb

Bon soir, plane spotters...

Going Emo at Altitude: Stratospheric Eye Vomit

August 2012. Chicago to London. Through my tiny Virgin Atlantic window, I watched the Perseid Meteor Shower consume the night sky like a sublime rock concert of incandescent comet poo, soaring towards Earth at the Speed of Dumb. Accompanying my viewing was some audio in the form of Beach House. As the glowing meteors whipped down the night sky, so hot, heavy, fast-flowing salt-water tears carved streaks down my 35,000 feet high cheeks, dropping haplessly off the most southern point of my face...

Now, I am a human. But 99% of the time I try and keep any open face leakage to myself. I don't cry over weddings or puppies. And in general I'd say my eye sweat is seen in public about as much as a golden ticket to the chocolate factory or an Indus River Dolphin at a music festival. Why? Maybe I don't like that kind of attention. Maybe it's primeval (Bears: They Smell The Sad!)
But watching this spectacular natural show, while the whole plane slept like zombies, could I stop the hot swathe of salty precipitation down my face? Even if I'd bitten my seat buckle so hard I induced a hernia or ground my teeth to pure dust - it's doubtful. My jaw ached, my temples burst and my cheeks barbecued themselves as in a state of exhaustion, I watched each zip of stars skit past my eyes. Another case in point was en route from Hong Kong to Heathrow. All Bill Murray had to say was 'enjoy my jacket. Which you stole,' for me to become no parts human and all parts puddle.

So, stratospheric melancholy. I want to know why are we so much more affected by any small emotive prod on a plane? I genuinely thought lack of oxygen may be to blame. But were not that lacking in oxygen on our commercial jets, or I'm sure plenty of lawyers would have something to say/argue/win/ban. Even so, Virgin Atlantic have issued 'weep warnings' alongside certain films after a poll found that 55% of air passengers (of BOTH gender, please thank you) revealed they get disproportionately emotional while travelling. So there must be some common cause to this altitude emo-sinkhole so many of us trip unwillingly into. But if you're looking for science, it's thin on the ground.

So, from me to you, here are a bunch of hypothesis as to why you just may fall off the edge on a Boeing, even though in real life you're normal, and the film you are watching is a hammy clutch of unrelatable characters, so full of plot holes, you could use it to sieve your pasta.*

1. You're in a tube in the sky and you have no control over it. Someone you don't know is wearing a fancy hat, and driving you through space in a souped up cartridge pen. On a subconscious level that's got to hit.

2. Apparently when your body is intensely stimulated in stress or excitement (take off/landing/a tiger mob), tears won't come, as primitively they're of no use at that point (misty vision = death.) That moment where we switch from sensory overload to calm can often result in unwanted wet-eye.

3. You're alone. Your phone doesn't work. You can't deal with your own brain chat/existence. Or you CAN deal with your own brain chat/existence, and isn't it and this thing called flying amazing?! Ether way, perfect time for an existential crisis. (Please refer to Louis CK on cell phones and flying, and my previous blog post about how bonkers this shit is here: Fly Me To The Fear.)

4. Free in-flight alcohol deliverance. Tap that complimentary Bombay Sapphire at your own peril.

5. Circumstance. You're leaving something to start something new. Or your leaving something new to return to something old. Or you're simply leaving behind some tremendous humans. Preparing to leave somewhere is fraught with practicalities. When they're done, and your alone in 29C with just a bunch of documentaries or a porthole into the abyss, what then?

6. Just generally - what the fuck are we all doing here?


*I like to think an astro-miracle is a little different. But hey, bawling is bawling. If it's good enough for Tom Waits...