Tony Blews

Yesterday, while helping clear out my uncle’s house before his move to the new bungalow, I discovered these wonderful photographs of him going on holiday sometime in the late 50s or early 60s.

The Aeroplane

Nothing remarkable here, you may think. It looks quite a small ‘plane, with a big nose.

All aboard!

The passengers are boarding. My uncle, Mr. Harry Blews, is the chap directly below the “T”, and his wife, Mrs. Mary Blews, stands below the “C”.

So far we see nothing out of the ordinary. But hang on! Harry Blews isn’t the sort of man to waste money on airport parking, even in the days when England was still using the Turnip as currency. Neither would he trust his beloved Humber Hawk to the care of Johnny Southerner whilst on a trip to foreign shores.

So then, where is the car?

Crikey!

Yes, for the holiday maker in a hurry, or indeed Morcambe and Wise in That Riviera Touch, the Bristol 170 could carry three cars and their passengers, and at a price that Textiles Manager from Preston could afford. Fantastic. Its almost like science fiction, but from 50 years ago. Can you imagine Ryan Air doing this today? Hell, they’d charge you extra for carrying  the spare wheel.

Jeremy Clarkson once said that the grounding of Concorde was “a massive leap backwards for mankind”. Thats as maybe, but in the 50s people flew on holiday with their cars, and in the 21st Century they don’t. That is what I call a massive leap backwards.

Here is a little bit more information about that particular aircraft…

G-ANWK, a Bristol 170 Mk32, was first registered on Jan 31st, 1956. It was operated by Silver City Airways, between Lydd to Le Touquet, from June of that year until January 1963 when it was taken over by British United Air Ferries. Withdrawn from service in October, 1969, the ‘plane was finally broken up in August, 1970. Here is another photo.

They forced me to take the gun out of Debbie’s ear.

Apparently someone has stolen my teeth.

This slightly worrying Goatse was on the wall of The King Edward VII pub, on Central Drive, Blackpool. In the toilets. I think the subtle message is that if you drink and drive, then your rectum with become distended.

Edit: Now with added b3ta approval!

Some photos of our day out at the Foxfield Railway, celebrating Bill’s forthcoming wedding.

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The Foxfield Railway is a former colliery line just outside Blythe Bridge. The Wikipedia article has more information, but doesn’t have this little map thing:

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