Europe 1975: A Throwback Memory

I've been travelling independently for well over half a century. From my earliest trips, I have scattered memories of incidents here and there. This week, I got hit out of left field by a memory from my first independent trip to Europe in 1975, thanks to Instagram's random selection of stories that the software thinks might interest me. That picture so intrigued me that I promptly went digging for more. Here's the photo that IG turned up for my consideration -- a rather unusual sight by anyone's standards.

Let's face it, it isn't every day that you see a passenger train charging across the apron at an airport terminal. The location was the airport at Le Touquet - Paris-Plage in northern France, right on the coast of the English Channel south of the ferry ports at Calais and Boulogne. The scene was the transfer point between two legs of an unusual rail-air hybrid service that used to connect Paris and London three times a day -- "The Silver Arrow."

Since this was 1975, there was of course no Channel Tunnel to speed up rail travel between the two capitals. The available options were using rail at each end to connect with the ferries across the Channel from Calais and Boulogne, or to fly from Paris (Orly or Le Bourget) to London (Heathrow or Gatwick). The all-air option was fearfully expensive, while the traditional ferry crossing would take 5 hours or more (including train times) and laid you open to the notoriously rough seas of the English Channel, one of the most seasick-prone sea crossings on the planet.

I'd just spent four weeks touring on the continent, and would soon be heading back to England for my flight home when I saw an ad (while browsing a bookstore) for the Silver Arrow. I had a vague memory of having heard of it earlier, but wasn't aware of the details. However, the price was right and I booked it with no hesitation, having had my own baptism by rough water when crossing the North Sea from England to Norway several weeks earlier (that ranks as one of the most miserable travel experiences of my entire life).

The journey began at the Gare du Nord, the same station in Paris where Eurostar expresses now depart for London via the tunnel. The train, shown in the first photo at the top, ran express to Le Touquet with only a single stop in the northern city of Amiens. As we approached Le Touquet, the diesel train left the main line on a branch. This ran north-westwards into the airport property, crossed two active taxiways, and then curved around to west and ran right across the apron into a station platform attached to the end of the small airport terminal. The track across the airport has been paved over now, but you can still see traces of the route today on aerial photographs marked here with several "silver" arrows!

As we were rolling into the airport, I was seated on the right-hand side of the train, and so completely missed a grandstand close-up view of the aircraft as we rolled in.

 

Considering that this train would go no further than the airport before returning to Paris, it was far bigger than any possible need. The plane only seated fifty people; the train probably had space for three times that number. And indeed, the train had loaded up with the inbound passengers and departed back to Paris before we'd even boarded the flight.

Check in went very quickly, and so did the security check. And then we walked out to the plane. Ah, the good old days!

The name of the airline was British Island Airways, one of a sizable collection of independent airlines in the British Isles which flew smaller turboprop aircraft like this one in and out of smaller airports at various cities beyond the big metropolitan centres of the United Kingdom. The aircraft was a real rarity, one of a number of aircraft types produced in the 1950s and 1960s by the British civil aviation sector which saw only limited service with non-British airlines. This one is the Handley Page Herald. It was one of several different types built at the same time by various British manufacturers, all seating around 50 passengers, and all powered by the ubiquitous Rolls-Royce Dart turboprop engine. The Herald struggled to make sales, and only 50 of these aircraft were completed.

Oddly enough, one Canadian airline operated the Herald around the same time period. Eastern Provincial Airways, the regional airline of the Maritime provinces, operated this type into a number of smaller airports from their main hub at Halifax.   

The two pictures shown so far were of BIA's final colour scheme, so they must have been taken a few years later on, perhaps on one of the final runs of the Silver Arrow. Here's one more picture which dates from an earlier year and shows the colour scheme as it appeared on my flight. 

 

Attribution:

Ken Fielding/https://www.flickr.com/photos/kenfielding

 

Once we were all aboard and seated (and the plane was not full), the engines were fired up with that memorable plaintive whining tone unique to the Dart engines, and we taxied quickly out to the runway. It was a beautiful sunny day, and the flight to London Gatwick airport took only 35 minutes, a great advance over the 90-minutes-plus that a ferry would take from Calais to Dover. We flew at a fairly low altitude and had a great view.

Why Gatwick? London Gatwick had a feature that was nearly unique in 1975, although it's now seen as more or less essential in Europe and much of the rest of the world. This airport had direct rail access to the city with a station on the main line from Brighton up to London Victoria. Once we deplaned at Gatwick, it was a quick walk through the terminal, across the footbridge over the tracks, and down to the platforms. Our ticket included travel on the premium-priced Gatwick Express service which ran into London nonstop in a matter of 35 minutes.  

I was saddened a few years later to find out that the Silver Arrow was no more. It wasn't the Channel Tunnel that caused the demise of this unique service -- that still lay years in the future. It was something completely different in the world of ferries.

 

 Photo credit: Andrew Berridge, CC BY-SA 2.5 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5>, via Wikimedia Commons  

 

  

Photo Credit: Bachcell, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

 

These monsters, the SRN-4 hovercraft, could carry 450 passengers and 100 cars at a time, "flying" across the waters of the English Channel a short distance above the waves, and (most significant) were capable of crossing in wave height conditions up to 3.5 metres (11.5 feet). The hovercraft service was already in existence in 1975, and I admit it was a tough choice, but the unusual aircraft won out over the exotic hovercraft. I never did get a chance to cross the Channel in this way. Pity.

 

European Circle Tour # 12: Touring Outside of Lisbon

Our port call in Lisbon lasted barely 9 hours, and that was a real shame. I can think of few cities better suited to an extended two-day port call, not least because the ships dock right in the heart of the city, and not miles away as in Barcelona or (worse) in Rome or (worst of all) in London.

 

But you take what you can get. Having spent time in Lisbon on my last too-short port call, in 2022, I opted for this visit to broaden my horizons. There are many smaller towns around the city that could well be worth a visit, but two in particular draw the attention of many visitors. In part, this is because both of these places can be easily reached by train from Lisbon, so taking a day-long coach tour or paying an eye-watering taxi fare are not the only options.

 

It's also down to the differences in character between these two places, although both are fascinating. The first is the old central district of Sintra, a smaller town up in the hills. Small, old, crammed with shops, cafes, bakeries -- in a phrase, a tourist trap -- but a beguiling and lovely one all the same. Sintra has CHARACTER, all in caps and bold faced italic like that!

 

The old centre of this village gives you the feeling that it didn't so much grow as it happened by accident, with each successive builder squeezing in wherever they could get a footing. Streets that are wide enough to be used by motor vehicles are a rarity.

 

 

Yes, the alleyways in the old part of Sintra really are that narrow -- and that steep. The fiendish white and grey cobblestones which become slippery like ice when wet are everywhere too. When the alleyways get really steep, they've built in some steps -- but the steps still slope underfoot, just not quite as steeply as the alleyway would slope without steps. Truth be told, Sintra is definitely not the place for you if you are unsure of your footing or dependent on crutches, canes or wheelchairs. 

This is a good place to mention that Princess Cruises (and Holland America, my other favourite line) rate the tours they sell as Easy, Moderate, or Strenuous. This one was rated "Strenuous", and Sintra was the reason why. We had one couple on our coach walking slowly with canes, but I don't think they got far at all. The steep cobble-stoned alleyways are not for the faint-hearted or mobility-limited.

 

Among the alleyways, you can come across architectural treasures. Our tour guide started us on the square in front of the Palácio Nacional de Sintra. It's a good focal point, and was just a short distance up the road from the spot where our coach let us off. The oldest parts of the palace were built by the Moors back in the twelfth century.

 

Other architectural details and treasures pop up here and there. In order to see them, of course, you have to be able to take your eyes off the cobblestones and shop window displays. As in so many places in Portugal, brightly coloured paints and patterned ceramic tiles are popular methods of finishing the exterior of a building.

 

Oh, those shop window displays. Tempting, and in some cases downright dangerous. I've been known to gain 2 kilograms (nearly 5 pounds) just by looking into the window of a Portuguese bakery.

 

 

The people in our group who tried the Queijadas gave them a unanimous two-thumbs-up!

 

I automatically thought of a friend of mine who loves to wear colourful socks.

 

My late husband, Massi, would have made a beeline for this shop as soon as we got off the coach, not because he saw it but because he sensed its presence in some other mysterious manner -- and he probably would have bought one of these cute ceramic cats. "Cats call me, you know." That's what he used to say and it happened more than a few times in our travels together.

 

 

We had an hour of free time to explore the historic district. Then we returned to our coach and drove south, some twenty minutes or so, to the city of Cascais on the north shore of the ocean bay into which the Tagus River empties. 

Interlude: Language Lesson

Our guide took a few moments to explain to us how Portuguese uses stressed and unstressed vowels, also known as long and short vowels. He didn't mention the other key detail, but Portuguese pronunciation tends to soften many hard consonant sounds by combining them with an "h". The results sounds a bit slushy by comparison with languages that make extensive use of hard consonants. Which brings us to the city we were now going to visit.

 

"Cascais" is pronounced, more or less, as "Kesh-KYYYY-sh." That's how the guide said it, and I'm willing to take his word for it.

 

Now that we were at the shore of the ocean, Cascais was a much more level place, and that made it a lot easier to walk and really get going, which I did. The main landmarks in Cascais are the expensive seafront hotels -- some very modern, some quaint and old-fashioned but beautiful none the less.

 

Most of these hotels are grouped around the plaza in the centre of town which faces the bay and its beach. Perfectly turned towards the south, and the heat of the sun, it's no wonder that Cascais is such a popular area for a beach getaway from the big city. Even on an early spring day with the temperature only reaching 20°C (68°F), the beach had its sunbathers and there were even some people a bit later on getting right into the water and swimming or relaxing at length. Of course, the water could very well have been warmer than the air!

 

And yes, the sunshine was very warm and pleasant. As a by-the-way hint, cruise lines love to identify the tour groups on their tours with these stickers. It's best to wear utilitarian clothes which can't be damaged in any way by the stickum on the labels. I once had one become permanently glued to a synthetic t-shirt, and couldn't remove it.

 

One feature of Cascais, which you also can see in many public spaces in Lisbon, is the placement of the light and dark cobbles in this peculiar wave pattern. My guide in Lisbon back in 2022 swore that some people would get motion sickness from walking on them. 

My most lasting memory of Cascais, without a doubt, was the flower gardens. The city really puts an effort into maintaining these public gardens with their diverse varieties of colours and patterns in the blooms. Most of all, it reminds me of going to Niagara Falls during the spring and summer, and seeing the similar range of floral displays in the parks along the river. Here, the city's coat of arms is ringed by a flower display at the main traffic circle in the centre of town.

 

 

Later on, I saw these flowers bedded out at the square behind the beach.

 

Those dazzling colours were on my mind for much of the remainder of the day.

 

Lisbon was our final port call of the cruise. The tail end of the nine-day voyage was a stretch of two days at sea, from Lisbon north past the Bay of Biscay, and then up the English Channel to the port of Southampton. The Bay of Biscay and the English Channel are both names respected by sailors and experienced cruise passengers alike as notorious generators of rough weather. In this case, we had no real problems at all. We certainly encountered waves with heights of 5-6 metres (16-20 feet) but they are at enough of an angle that they didn't affect the ship much at all, just the odd moment of quivering. Of course, a cruise ship like Emerald Princess, at 113,000 tons, takes a really big wave to make it begin to shift in any noticeable way. For anyone concerned about weather and motion, bigger is better -- and time of year matters a lot too. Spring and summer are much more user friendly than fall and winter. Here is a sample white water picture from the first sea day.

 

By the evening of the same day, the sea had calmed down even more, the sky remained clear, and we got a glorious sunset at sea after dinner. I can think of no better place to enjoy a sunset spectacle. It's one of the biggest reasons I'm always looking for another cruise!

 

Once we docked in Southampton, I transferred straight up to a favourite hotel at Heathrow Airport, ready to fly home to Canada the next day. Looking forward to my next trip, and to having you join me on it!

 

 

European Circle Tour Part 10: The Not-so-Solid Rock

Remember the slogan, "Strong as the Rock of Gibraltar"? Thank you, Prudential of America, which no longer uses such slogans but still keeps its corporate logo with a stylized picture of the famous Rock. The logo is based on a picture showing the Rock as seen from the north end and looking down the east side.

 

Here's how it looks from the cruise terminal on the western shore, which is where you find most of the people and all of the shipping facilities. It was still early morning, but unlike my last visit, the entire western face of the Rock is pretty much visible. The weather got much clearer as the day went on.

 

Our guide, a long-time Gibraltarian like most of the tour guides here, related how many visitors will ask questions like, "How many people live on the island?" Since there is ocean everywhere you go, it's easy to forget that Gibraltar is attached to the mainland area of Spain. A reminder: here, just across the Bay to the west is the Spanish port city of Algeciras.

 

 

Here's a map to help you see the whole layout of the Rock and the Straits area.

 

 

For myself, I got a bit of a chuckle out of a member of our small tour party who kept asking, "Where is the Rock? When do we see the Rock?" It took him a fair chunk of the morning to finally catch the concept that we had been driving and walking all over the Rock for the entire time. 

 

In ancient myth and lore, the prominent limestone crag of Gibraltar was renowned as one of the two "Pillars of Hercules." The other, a much taller mountain called Jebel Musa (the Mountain of Moses) is on the south side of the strait. The two Pillars are marked on the map with the red blocks.

 

Since it's all limestone, the Rock of Gibralter is very porous, full of natural cracks and crevices and caves. Many of these were expanded by British Army Engineers during the centuries since Gibraltar came under British control in the early 1700s as part of a peace treaty. More tunnels were excavated during World War II, and still more opened up since the end of the war. The latest one is a tunnel that plunges down under the single runway of Gibraltar airport (which is parallel to the border with Spain), coming up on the other side in Spain itself. Last time I was here, the highway link to the Spanish border was still on ground level, right across the runway, and had to be closed every time a plane landed or took off!

 

Our ship itself encountered a similar problem when we were ready to depart at 5:00pm. The problem: there was a plane scheduled to take off right about that time, and it was basically impossible for the ship to move and pivot away from the pier without getting right into the flight path and just off the end of the runway -- which is actually extended into the ocean on both sides of the peninsula. Wherever you go in Gibraltar, space is always at a premium and the damn Rock keeps getting in the way!

 

Most of the highrise buildings you see in my photos are built on filled land. More fresh land is being created all the time (our guide showed us another rock-fill project just beginning). The only way for Gibraltar to grow is for the land mass below the Rock to expand. In this picture, you see two ships at the cruise port, some highrise apartments on the newer part of the reclaimed shoreline, and a plane lifting into the air from the runway (look at the cropped second picture to zoom in on the plane).

 

 

Our tour began with a scenic drive all around the Rock, with a couple of brief stops for photos. Driving south on the west side we got a good view of the entirely artificial harbour. Several of the ships appearing here are actually waiting for their turn to be drydocked for repairs.

 

After passing through a bit of the Old Town area, we headed on south, and soon had to go through a couple of very old and very tight tunnels. Good thing that tours in Gibraltar use mainly British sized 24-passenger mini-buses. A regular highway coach would never get through this one.

 

Beyond the tunnel, we passed by a sizable Lido, one of several artificial beaches on the west side of the Rock. It's a popular facility with locals and tourists during the warmer summer months.

 

Nearby was this spectacular but artificial waterfall, which our guide said was used for the unnecessary overflow of water supply from a water distillation plant. Like other places built on seaside limestone formations, the entire underpinning of Gibraltar is permeated with caverns full of salt water, so fresh water can only be obtained by manufacturing it from the sea.

 

Soon afterwards, we arrived at Europa Point, the southern tip of Gibraltar. The lighthouse, now automated, remains an essential navigation aid through the Straits of Gibraltar, the link between the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean. It's also an excellent place for peripatetic retired teachers to take selfies.

 

 

It was at this point that the real lucky breaks began, as the clouds south of us slowly lifted away to reveal a serious glimpse of Africa in the distance. The hill behind the left-hand ship is in Ceuta, while the dark slopes rising into the clouds above the chimney are the lower slopes of Jebel Musa.

 

If you turn away from the view of Africa, and look north, you see the southern end of the Rock, and a stately mosque. It's as true in Gibraltar as in Ceuta, that you can't visit a community in the area of the Straits without encountering Arab and Spaniard and English and Christian and Muslim and Jew all mixed together. And they're not the only ones.

Driving north up the east side of the Rock (the sheer-cut side with near-vertical alignment), we had to drop into a lengthy tunnel to pass under or behind a sizable scientific establishment embedded in the rock faces.

 

A little farther north, we came to a beachfront community whose brilliant colours give it a distinctly Italian look. Again, not surprising. This Italian community may be small, but it's been in Gibraltar for centuries, and the local population love their little bit of their original homeland which they've created and sustained here.

 

Also on this side are some more areas of reclaimed land, and some sizable residential towers, which are deliberately planned by the government of Gibraltar as a reduced-cost housing measure to help younger people get into a highly-inflated housing market. As our guide explained it, the government advances half the cost of the unit while the buyer puts in the other half. At sale time, each takes half the proceeds of the sale. I'd be interested to hear in 20 years or so how this strategy has worked out.

 

In no time, we were back at the north end, and crossing the narrow strip of flat land between Rock and airport to get back to town on the west side. There, we attended the highlight of our tour, a "wine tasting" of three different wines from nearby Spanish wineries. "Tasting" in quotation marks because they were pouring the wine with a generous hand in all three glasses. I think I likely inhaled somewhere in the area of 15-16 ounces in 45 minutes or so! The restaurant also provided plates of cold meat and flavourful Manchegan cheese to buffer all that wine, a real delight. This event took place in a new recreation and cultural centre built into an old and disused fortification, the King's Bastion. After the tasting, we got a quick look at another part of the facility. The tasting took place in a similar barrel-vaulted hall.

 

With that, we headed back to the ship and a quiet afternoon aboard. But there was one more treat in store as we sailed at 5:20 pm (after waiting for that plane to take off!). This was something I'd never seen before, and I suspect many other visitors never have seen either: Gibraltar, fully visible, in blazing sunshine. What a bonus!

 

It got even better, as ships must move fairly slowly in these busy waters, for safety reasons. I'd gone back inside to get dinner. When I came out on deck after dinner, we were just gliding nicely through the middle of the Straits, with the two Pillars of Hercules slipping slowly away behind us: Gibraltar to starboard...

 

 ... and Jebel Musa to port, as we set course for the open Atlantic.