Around the World in '62

Hi,

So glad to hear you're enjoying this thread as well. :) I admit the routings might look a bit odd right now, but the idea is to circle the globe, visiting as many countries (and classic airports) as possible, using a huge diversity of contempory airlines and aircraft - all this while using real timetables from the era. Unfortunately, I'm a bit limited in my choice of timetables (I'm mainly using those at the timetable images website - http://www.timetableimages.com - but only a select few are fully available there) as well as in the choices of aircraft available (addon liveries!), so some parts of the journey won't be as detailled as others.

Anyway, continuing from the previous post, as soon as our Bealine flight arrives at Frankfurt, we are transferred to the Lufthansa flight to Düsseldorf. With just a minor delay of five minutes, the Lufthansa Metropolitan starts taxying towards the runway.



There we have to wait as a Cunard Eagle flight takes off for Amsterdam, but soon it is our turn to take off.



From Frankfurt, it is just over 100 miles to Düsseldorf; our flight is scheduled to land an hour after its departure, but in all likelyhood our flight won't even last that long. After the aircraft turns on its course towards Düsseldorf, we see the city of Frankfurt disappear below us.



Soon we can see the river Rhine on our port side - the industrial heart of West Germany. In the past it was a symbolic border - once it was the furthest point of the Roman Empire, more recently it proved a formidable hurdle in the past War. Now, however, it is the heart of the Wirtshaftswunder, West Germany's economic rebirth, with its many coalmines, steelmills and factories.



However, for us it is visible proof that we are nearing Düsseldorf, and soon our flight commences its approach into the city's airport.



As we suspected, our flight arrives early - about ten minutes, in fact, despite the delay that enabled us to connect directly from our flight out of Berlin. After our plane comes to a halt at the terminal, we take a moment to thank the crew for their friendly gesture. We now have a couple of hours in which we can get something to eat and refresh ourselves: our next flight won't be leaving for another three hours.



To be continued...
 
This continues to be a great read....waiting for the next installment already.
To fully appreciate the weirdness of the two Germanies you had to drive the "Transit" routes. Paid for by the western tax payer they were strictly controlled corridors similar to the aerial ones you describe. Entry and exit times were closely monitored to ensure that us wessies did not make any stops and drop off subversive materials such as fruit or magazines off anywhere.

It got better at times and worse at others....and even a day before the DDR disappeared the VoPo was still as hard assed as ever....and the same guys then applied a few weeks later to become members of the German Polizei.
In general only hardline supporters of the regime were entrusted with "keeping the capitalists" out.

Cheers
Stefan
 
Hi Stefan,


I myself never knew the 'joys' of travelling through the corridors (born in 1982 - the closest I ever got was Hamburg on my way to Copenhagen in July 1989; I do recall seeing the Wall falling on the television a couple of months later, though), but my mother once did the journey by train (from Peking via Moscow!), and she has told me her recollections of the East German border control and still has the stamped passport to prove it. And yes, even twenty years after Billy Wilder's film, those VoPos most definately were "rude and suspicious"...

Continuing our journey: after a decent evening meal, we board KLM flight 226 to Amsterdam. It is already half past eight in the evening, and the sun is beginning to set, but we should arrive in Amsterdam before nightfall: after all, it is just 100 miles away.





The little Convairliner somehow looks out of place next to the Caravelles and Comet. Slowly but steadily, the type is being withdrawn from KLM service, being replaced by the more capable Viscount and Electra II - in fact, most of KLM's propellor fleet is being phased out. KLM's DC-6s are only in service in the Caribbean and its Constellations are fast becoming a rarity; only the DC-7C seems to be escaping that fate for now.





At about a quarter to nine, our Convairliner takes off out of Düsseldorf. As mentioned before, this will only be a relatively short hop, similar to the one out of Frankfurt. As we take off, we head out over the Rhine; our destination is about 25 miles north-east of the great river's mouth.




We climb to our cruise height, but already a quarter of an hour into our flight we're beginning to descend. In the distance we can see the Ijsselmeer - formerly the Zuiderzee, until it was cut off from the North Sea through the construction of a dam, now some thirty years ago. The past decade major reclamation works have been underway: the land being reclaimed will be named the Flevopolder.



Approaching us from our starboard side, we can see the navigation lights of an aircraft. Our captain informs us it is a Lockheed Electra: KLM flight 174 is arriving from Stockholm via Copenhagen. Due to its higher speed, the Electra is allowed to overtake the Convairliner.



The crew start to slow down the aircraft, in order to create sufficient clearance behind the Electra. However they are soon confronted with a dilemma: the tower warns them that some 20 miles behind (and closing) is Springbok 220, a South African Boeing 707.



Through their skill, the crew manage to keep enough clearance between themselves, the Electra in front and the Boeing behind, so they land the Convairliner moments after the Electra has cleared the runway, and they, in turn, clear it so the Boeing can land as well. It is now half past ten in the evening, and after a short taxi the crew shut down the Convairliner in front of the terminal. We, however, still have one more flight to go before we can call it a day.



Next: our last Convairliner for a while, on a night flight to Brussels.
 
About an hour later, at 22:30, we take our last flight of the day, destination Brussels. Our carrier is Belgium's national airline Sabena. Sabena flight 387 is about half full when the engines are started. In the hour since our last flight the weather has deteriorated somewhat, with thick clouds having drifted in from over the North Sea.



Flight 387 is rather unique, as it is a joint service between Sabena and KLM. On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays it is the return service for Sabena 388, flown by a Convair CV-440; on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays it is the outbound KLM service, flown by one of the company's CV-340s converted to CV-440 standard, and returning the next day as flight 382. Today's Tuesday, so it's Sabena's turn.



There is virtually no traffic at this late hour, so we are immediately cleared for take-off out of runway 22. From there, we head almost straight towards Rotterdam, the only waypoint on our route South. The distance between Amsterdam and Brussels is just 85NM, so we are barely over Rotterdam when the first instructions come for our approach into Brussels.



En-route, the crew receive news that there's less than 10 miles visibility at Brussels; luckily the newly renovated airport has had the necessary guidance systems installed. Just ten years ago, it happened every once and a while that Brussels had to be closed due to fog, with traffic being diverted to the airport at Antwerp. Nowadays the airport at Brussels is perfectly equipped to cope with low visibility and bad weather.



Just twenty minutes into our flight, the Metropolitan arrives at its holding altitude. Looking outside, we can barely see the ground - that is, until we vaguely recognise the outlines of an airfield. Immediately we realise what it is and where we are: this is the old airfield at Keerbergen. Last year, in 1961, it was closed down when its owner, Cogea Nouvelle, moved its fleet of ex-Belgian Air Force Spitfire target tugs to the Middelkerke airport in Oostende, but before that the small airfield was a vibrant general aviation field. With the expansion work at Brussels - and especially due to the opening of a re-oriented runway, the airfield became a hazard to traffic inbound to Brussels' runway 25R, so it was gradually abandoned.



Which indeed means we are inbound to Brussels' runway 25R. Just a minute or three later, the new terminal building at Brussels comes into view, and barely half an hour after our take-off out of Amsterdam we touch down at Brussels.



At this late hour, the apron at Brussels is rather quiet, with a small team of Sabena groundcrew waiting in front of the terminal for our flight. The only other activity on the apron is near a DC-7C freighter: the night belongs to the cargo aircraft. Our aircraft is about 5 minutes ahead of schedule when it brings its engines to a halt: we leave our plane and head towards the terminal. Tomorrow our journey will start in all earnest, but for now we look ahead to a good night's rest...



Next time: the journey South continues!
 
Hi Ralf,


Thanks! ^_^


Day 4: Wednesday, May 30th, 1962


Yesterday I remarked how it was more likely that war would break out over Berlin than in any other place in the world, but as we pick up our morning newspaper, its headlines read that president Kennedy has decided to send 4000 US troops into Thailand to help out in Laos. Things seem to have been brewing in that area for a while now, but now things appear to be getting rather serious.

However, the greatest story of the day comes from Chile: the 1962 World Cup will start later today. The last time, in 1958, Brazil won the Cup, but who will win this time...?
For us, today will be pretty easy. Unlike yesterday, we will have plenty of time between flights. Our first flight for today, to Paris, will be by Sabena Caravelle.



We take a last look around the newly built terminal before we board our flight. The building was opened four years ago, at the time of the 1958 World Expo, as part of a complete and thorough rebuild of the airport in Brussels. A quarter of an hour later our plane takes off, at around ten past eleven; on our take-off run we pass the old terminal building, across the runway from the new one.



Within minutes, our plane has climbed above the cloud cover. Even though we already flew a Caravelle yesterday, it is still quite an amazing sensation to be climbing so fast. Of course, we could have taken two earlier flights to Paris this morning, but they would have been far less 'spectacular' - the first being Sabena 631, the morning Metropolitan to Le Bourget, and the second being Sabena 953, a Sikorsky flight to the Issy-Les-Moulineaux heliport.



For about a minute or ten, fifteen, our Caravelle is cruising along at 16000 feet. The views are wonderful; I wonder how much different our flight would have been if we had taken the earlier Metropolitan or Sikorsky flight.



Then the Caravelle begins its descent into Paris. In the distance, we can see the Seine meandering through the landscape. As we near it, the densely-built cityscape of Paris becomes visible. It's been barely half an hour since our departure...



As the plane turns onto its approach into Le Bourget, the passengers get an excellent view of Paris. The Eiffel Tower, the Louvre... It's ironic that the rides from the airport to those places will in many cases last longer than the flight from Brussels to Paris itself. And the traffic in Paris hasn't gotten any easier these past few years. Traffic jams - who could have imagined those?



At 11:50, our flight touches down at Le Bourget airport - in all it lasted 40 minutes on the dot. Within minutes the passengers are making their way to the terminal. Some will be connecting with flights out of this airport, some will be making the journey to Orly on the other side of Paris, but for most, this is the start of a stay in this wonderful city.



We are among the first group. In about four hours time, our next flight will depart, which will be taking us to Madrid...

To be continued...
 
While waiting for our next flight, we decide to go through the newsstand at Le Bourget. Of course, the French newspapers are all headlining with news about the whole Algerian situation. Ever since last year's referendum, in which Algeria voted for its independence from France, violence has flared up in Algeria - and in the past few months in France as well. The OAS - Organisation de l'Armée Secrète - consisting of French Army hardliners opposed to the Algerian independence - was dealt a major blow last month when its founder, General Salan, was arrested, but this hasn't stopped the organisation from continuing its terror campaign in Algeria, with over a dozen bombings taking place every day (one of the reasons we won't be visiting that country!).

On a more light-hearted note, the papers also report on the World Cup which will start later today. Apparently, the first four group matches which will be held are Uruguay versus Colombia; Chile versus Switzerland; Brazil versus Mexico; and Argentina versus Bulgaria.



With our bag filled with the newspapers we haven't had time to read yet, as well as last week's Time magazine (May 25th issue; this week's issue will be out in two days' time), we board our next flight to Madrid. This is Iberia 161, and while word has it that it will soon be flown by a Douglas DC-8, we still have to make do with a Super Constellation.



At about a quarter to four, the crew start the aircraft's engines, while the cabin crew wait for latecomers. Five minutes later, the doors are closed, and the Super Constellation starts taxying to the runway. After a run-up of the engines, the Crew head out onto the runway, and at a couple of minutes past four, the Super Constellation takes off out of Le Bourget. While climbing out, the plane passes the Eiffel Tower, giving the passengers one last view of downtown Paris.



Our pilot soon informs us that we are climbing for 18000 feet. He estimates our flight will last about two and a half hours, so we will be arriving in Madrid at about half past six.



Passing 10000 feet, we hear the engines being shifted into High Blower. The tone of the Turbo Compound engines changes from a loud roar to a gentle rumble. It's odd to think that in a couple of years' time, we probably won't be hearing this sound anymore - as things are looking now, propliners will probably be extinct in ten years time. Most experts agree that by that time, even the current generation of jets will probably be replaced by supersonic planes, like the Super Caravelle and Bristol 223 that are currently being built. Even the Time magazine has an article about how the new variable geometry-technology can, over time, be used to produce a supersonic airliner.



Which all still pretty much sounds like science-fiction, especially as we are seated in this Super Constellation. Looking out of the window, we notice the landscape far below us, which is ever changing. From the large urban sprawls such as Paris, to the smaller cities, to the forests and mountains far below us, stretching out as far as the eye can see. Long before we cross the Spanish border, we can already see the Pyrenee mountains, standing like some kind of natural wall that separates the Iberian peninsula from the rest of Europe.



A good twenty minutes after passing the border, our Super Constellation starts its descent. It has been two hours since we left Paris, so our captain's estimate will be abour right.



On our approach into Madrid, we notice that the visibility deteriorates rather quickly. Contrary to our expectations that we would be greeted by sun in Spain, we are rather disappointed to discover that Madrid is shrouded in fog. Our captain tells us this is because of humidity; the weather forecast for this evening is thunderstorms - so it isn't entirely sure that our next flight will be able to take off.



Just before half past six, Iberia 161 touches down at Madrid Barajas airport. As we leave the plane, an unbearable heat hits us in the face, a combination of temparature and humidity which doesn't predict much good. Our next flight won't be leaving until eleven o'clock this evening - providing it will be able to leave at all...



Next time: a giant leap into Africa...
 
This is Iberia 161, and while word has it that it will soon be flown by a Douglas DC-8, we still have to make do with a Super Constellation.


Ahem.... I was going to say finally a Connie and then I read this :kilroy: Oh my....be still my beating heart.

:ernae:
Stefan
 
Hi Stefan,

I really hope you didn't mind that, but... well, I'm trying a bit to reflect the times in that thread. Back in 1962, nearly everything that had a 'prop' was seen as 'outdated' - including the Electra and Vanguard, which hadn't even been in service for four years by then.

Anyway, back to the thread:

During our stay at the Madrid airport, we notice a group of people huddled around a radio. It is just before eight o'clock, which means that over in Chile, the first matches start. All four matches kick off at the same time, which means the reporters have to share the broadcast. Even though we are listening to a Spanish radio, we understand bits and pieces of the broadcast. Four minutes into the broadcast, an enthousiastic 'GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAL' from one of the reporters marks the first goal of the tournament, scored in the match between Argentina and Bulgeria. For a tense two hours, we follow the radio report, untill the whistle is blown on the last match. The scores for the first four matches are the following:

Group 1: Uruguay - Colombia 2-1
Group 2: Chile - Switzerland 3-1
Group 3: Brazil - Mexico 2-0
Group 4: Argentina - Bulgeria 1-0

An hour later, we board our next flight. While yesterday we were heading all over Europe in small bounds, this flight will be a true leap: Argentina 131 will take us all the way to Dakar, some 1700 nm away - about the same distance which separates Shannon from Gander, to give you an idea.



The Iberia captain earlier was right: by the time we step onto the apron, the rumble of thunder can be heard in the distance. It is still hot and humid, but the Argentina crew (rather in high spirits after their team's win over Bulgeria) assure us that this won't be causing any delay to the flight.



And indeed, a little over eleven PM, the Argentinian Comet departs from the gates, and at ten past eleven, it takes off from Barajas airport. In the darkness it is difficult for us to orient ourselves, but we are aware that the jetliner climbs at quite an impressive speed.



For some twenty minutes, the Comet continues to climb, until it finally levels off. Far below us, we can see the occasional flash of lightning, and the lights of houses and roads. As it has been quite an exhausting day, we try to get some sleep...



... but somehow, it just won't happen. Gradually the cabin falls silent, as most of the passengers turn in for the night, but some continue to gaze out of the windows. Having difficulties sleeping (really missing the Stratocruiser with its berths right now) we look at the landscape below us. About half an hour into the flight we see the Gibraltar Straight appear below us, with the Mediterranean and Atlantic at either sides of us. Minutes later, we're over Africa.



Gradually, the land below us turns dark, as the groups of light become fewer and more scarsely spread. Eventually, the only lights we see are the stars in the sky and the moonlight reflecting off the surface of the Atlantic.



Eventually, the monotony of the flight cau... causes us to... to nod off...



A light brusquely interrupts our sleep. The cabin crew announces that the passengers need to extinguish their cigarettes and fasten their seatbelts, as we are just twenty minutes outbound of Dakar. Looking at our watch, we notice it is twenty past three... no wait, it's twenty past two - forgot to wind it an our back, since we crossed into another timezone.



In the distance, we notice a bright spot: Dakar, the capital of the recently independent country of Senegal. The Comet manoeuvres around the city in order to line up with the jet runway at Dakar's airport; due to having to cope with headwinds for most of the way, the flight finally lands at Dakar with a delay of a quarter of an hour.



After the jet parks at the terminal, we disembark and go to collect our luggage. Unfortunately we didn't manage to get much sleep, and it doesn't look like we will either: in just two hours' time, our next flight will depart out of this airport.



Next time, familiar colours but unfamiliar names: the journey South continues...
 
No worries Nikko,
I just get a little prang in my heart when someone refers to my beloved Connies as anything other than the most wonderful of flying machines. I know ... slightly deluded.
But I for one would love to go back to flying in those majestic prop liners with other travelers dressed for the occasion and not in their gym suits:icon_lol::icon_lol:

Keep it coming....
:ernae:

Stefan
 
Day5: Thursday, May 31st, 1962

Two hours and a catnap later, we board our next flight, Air Afrique 2001 which will be taking us to Roberts Field in Monrovia, Liberia. Our carrier is a relatively new name in the airlines world: established just two years ago, it is rather unique in that it does not cater for a single country, but no less than eleven. Founded out of an agreement between Air France, UAT, and the French West-African nations, it has thirteen shareholders: except for its parent airlines, these are Benin, Burkina Faso, Cameroon, the Central African Republic, Chad, Gabon, the Ivory Coast, Mauretania, Niger, the Republic of the Congo, and Senegal.



Like most airlines in this continent, it has a fair share of propliners on its inventory: these are mainly DC-4s and DC-6s, but also include Herons and Starliners. Most of these aircraft were handed down by Air France and UAT, or are temporally leased. However, the airline also has jets: these are mostly DC-8s, but also include two Boeing 707s - like our current flight.



Due to the airport lay-out, our flight has a slight delay on its departure. There is only a single runway capable of accepting jet aircraft, linked to the terminal by a single taxiway, and it just so happens that two aircraft are inbound as we prepare to depart. So we have to wait for them to land and taxi to the terminal before we can depart - giving us a delay of 15 minutes.



Which means it is a quarter past five when our flight takes off out of Dakar. The Boeing 707 takes off towards the North, and turns around Dakar before heading South towards Monrovia.



During our climb out of Dakar, the sun rises at the horizon. Less than 24 hours ago we were still in Brussels, which sounds quite hard to believe - and in spite all of our stop-overs.



With the sunlight flooding the interior of the jetliner, we give up on any attempt at getting some more sleep, and instead take the issue of Time magazine we bought yesterday at Le Bourget (today's newspapers weren't for sale yet at Dakar). An amusing article captures our eye, involving a rental dispute in New York, and featuring the UN Secretary-General's cat.



Looking out of the window, we notice the landscape beneath us. Odd to think that only a year or two ago, all of this, as far as the eye could see, were colonies to the Western countries. Huge swathes of land, claimed by France, England, Portugal, Spain and Belgium, often several times the size of their ruling countries. Of course, Spain and Portugal still cling on to their colonies, but it is probably only a matter of time before these will become independent.



Of course, Liberia, where we are heading, is an exception to this: it has never been a colony. Founded by former American slaves in the early nineteenth century, it modelled itself after the United States, copying its system of government, its flag, its seal and motto; when most of the continent was later colonized, the country remained fiercely independent.



A little over an hour after our departure out of Dakar, our flight begins its descent into Roberts Field. As the plane gets nearer to Monrovia, the ride becomes more bumpy: there happen to be thunderstorms near the airport. Descending through the clouds, the 707 turns to line up with the runway at Roberts. Soon, it is on its approach - which is quite hazardous, as there is a hill located on the approach. The ground gets awfully close until it suddenly drops away beneath us - seconds later the aircraft touches down onto the runway.



Despite our delay at Dakar, we arrive only five minutes late. The 707 turns off the runway and onto the apron in front of the terminal. As we step out onto the apron, we look at the threatening clouds above us. It is still dry, but it looks like this won't last much longer. We head into the terminal building, just in case...



Next time: An imperial flight...​
 
Dusseldorf Scenery

OKami,

What scenery are you using for Duselldorf? I checked the Calclassics scenery, but didn't see anything for Duesseldorf there and the major sites seem to only have the very modern version of the airport on file.

Oh yes, great trip so far. I'm enjoying your adventure.
 
Hi,

I guess you could call Dusseldorf (and a few other airports) as a "coming soon" preview. :)

But "coming soon" could mean quite a while...
 
At Roberts, we have a six hour break before our next flight. We use these six hours to try and catch some sleep. Around half past ten we are awoken by an allmighty crash - outside, a thunderstorm has broken loose. With only one and a half hours to go, we decide to go and get something to eat, and find out whether we can get hold of a newspaper.

Rifling through the news, we find a number of articles. "More Katangese air attacks against Congolese Army", "World Cup starts in Chile",... "Khrushchev attends Benny Goodman goodwill concert in Moscow"... However, we don't have long to read through the newspaper in full, before it is time for us to board our aircraft.



Our flight is Ethiopian 617, which is a new service connecting Ethiopia's capital Addis Ababa with Conakry, and one of the very few services to link East and West Africa. The thunderstorm is still raging over us as the DC-6B taxies out towards the runway.



As was the case with Dakar, the runway configuration at Roberts field causes some trouble for the crew of our flight. Backtracking is required, and unfortunately another aircraft is already on the runway, forcing us to wait. Eventually, our flight takes off with a quarter of an hour's delay.



Soon the airport disappears behind us in the haze of the thunderstorm. On climbing out, our aircraft is rocked from side to side by the strong winds. Lightning flashes light the interior of the plane, and occasionally, we can hear the thunder over the roar of the engines. Finally, the plane breaks through the overcast.



Our plane still sways from side to side, the strong winds making our ride quite uncomfortable. On either side we can see the thunderclouds towering in the sky, high above our aircraft - definitely making this one of the more uncomfortable rides so far. Some of the passengers in the seats around us are looking quite pale; I myself am questioning the wisdom of having a meal so soon before our departure.



For what seems like an eternity, our plane tries to dodge the worst of the weather. We experience quite some turbulence, with some passengers coping somewhat better with this than others. The cabin crew try to reassure them as best as they can, but after a while even they don't look their best.



The pilots, however, firmly steer the aircraft through the weather, and after about two hours the weather begins to improve. There still are some thunderstorms around, but eventually we see some breaks in the weather, and our flight gets into clear air. Aboard the plane, several passengers sigh out of relief.



With a bit of delay, our flight begins its descent into Accra's airport. Still somewhat groggy, we watch the aircraft getting lower, we hear the landing gear extending... We'll sure be glad to be on the ground once again.



And at ten past four local time - with a quarter of an hour's delay - our flight touches down at Accra. Spontaneously, the passengers begin to applaud the pilots. For some among them, this has been a first flight which they will probably never forget about.



While the ground crews begin to prepare the Ethiopian flight for its next leg - Lagos, then Khartoum, eventually Addis Ababa - we greet the crew. Having been airborne for over half of the past 24 hours, we decide to make a stop-over of a day at Accra, in order to see some sights and get some rest. Hopefully the Ethiopian crew will have better weather on the rest of their flight - and hopefully, so will we when we resume our journey tomorrow...



To be continued...
 
Day 6: Friday, June 1st, 1962​


After a good night's sleep, we wake up at our hotel in Accra. Yesterday, we decided to get some sleep early on, so we missed the live report on the World Cup matches. On our way to the airport, we buy a newspaper to learn the scores. The main titles on the paper, however, report on the end of a sorry chapter in history: yesterday, Adolf Eichmann was hanged in Israel.​

On the sports pages we find what we are looking for: the results and reports of yesterday's group matches. Quite some interesting results, too:

Group 1: Soviet Union - Yugoslavia 2-0
Group 2: West Germany - Italy 0-0
Group 3: Czechoslovakia - Spain 1-0
Group 4: Hungary - England 2-1

Today will be a rest day in the tournament; the second group matches will be played tomorrow and the day after that.

​

Having arrived at the airport, we find our next flight waiting for us. This is Ghana Airways 850, a three times weekly Viscount flight from Accra to Lagos. The small airport is relatively busy: we are pleasantly surprised to see a vibrant mix of colours and types. DC-3s, Viscounts, Britannias, IL-18s, even a Lockheed Electra (of the Dutch airline KLM).

​

The weather is a lot better than it was yesterday, so our flight promises to be a smooth one. At a little over nine o'clock our Viscount takes off out of Accra, and the aircraft turns towards the East.

​

It takes the Viscount a little bit more than ten minutes to climb to its cruising altitude. Seated on the right hand side of the aircraft, we can see the coastline sliding by, light clouds sometimes obscuring the view. From this altitude the view is simply fascinating...

​

The closer we get to Lagos, the denser the clouds seem to become. About three quarters of an hour after taking off, our Viscount begins to descend.


​
Soon we are in the middle of the clouds - however unlike yesterday, we don't seem to have any turbulence. In all, the flight is proving to be surprisingly smooth and very comfortable.

​

At eight past eleven local time - seven minutes ahead of schedule - our flight touches down at Lagos airport. The Viscount taxies towards the terminal, where it comes to a halt, and soon we get out of the plane. The air is hot and humid, so we'll probably be getting a rain shower later today.

​

We now have the better part of two days in which we can explore Lagos and the surrounding countryside, as our next flight is only scheduled to leave at a quarter to midnight tomorrow...

​

Next time: into the Heart of Africa...
 
Day 7: Saturday, June 2nd, 1962​


After our stay in Lagos, we return to the airport. Today's flight will take us from Lagos to Leopoldville in the Republic of Congo (formerly Belgian Congo), not to be confused with the Congo Republic (formerly part of French Equitorial Africa).

​

Surprisingly, today's flight is one of the very few direct links between Lagos and Central Africa, the other being the weekly Pan American flight from New York to Johannesburg. A third connection exists via Douala and Brazzaville; most flights bound for Central and South Africa link via Kano instead. Unfortunately, the Pan American service only arrives on Tuesday (the Pan American flight parked next to our plane is the weekly New York to Lagos service), while the Air Afrique service is only on Thursdays. This leaves us with the third alternative: Air Congo 458, a DC-6 bound for Leopoldville.

​

At a quarter to midnight, our flight departs Lagos. As it is a night flight, we will be trying to get some sleep, however the crew has advised us that we might encounter some thunderstorms along the way. Hopefully nothing as bad as the storm of a couple of days ago.

​

Soon after take-off, we take the day's newspaper. Flicking through the pages, we don't particularly find much of interest: thoughts and opinions on the situation both in French Algeria and Katanga; fear of atomic war reaching new heights in the US with federal construction plans being announced for public fallout shelters, and analyses and predictions after the first matches at the World Cup.

​

After about an hour or two, our flight gets into slightly choppy weather - the thunderstorms that the crew told us about. Occasionally, the cabin is lit up by a thunder flash, but for the most part, the DC-6 manages to climb over the weather.

​

Looking at the map we took from the seat pocket in front of us, we see that our aircraft must be somewhere over the gulf of Guinea. The route indicated on the map takes us over unfamiliar countries: Cameroon, Gabon, Congo - all countries who recently gained their independence. However, we notice something else on the map: a Sabena logo.

​

Of course - Air Congo is a subsidiary of Sabena; in fact, it formerly was the Congolese arm of Sabena's operation. While the Republic of Congo gained its independence from Belgium two years ago now, Air Congo was only set up last year - in effect being the former Congolese arm of Sabena's operations. In fact, of the 2400 employees currently working for Air Congo, over 1100 are Sabena personnel seconded to Air Congo. Most of the airline's equipment has also been taken over from its parent airline; the DC-6 we are currently flying was originally delivered to Sabena in 1950 as OO-AWW, its registration having changed to OO-SDE a year later.

​

After our short encounter with thunderstorms over the gulf of Guinea, the rest of our flight is rather uneventful - eventually we even manage to get some sleep. Almost four hours after our departure out of Lagos, our flight begins its descent into Leopoldville.

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In the distance, we can see the lights of Leopoldville - and those of Brazzaville in the Congo Republic on the opposite side of the river Congo. Our flight is making its approach into N'Djili airport, which was built in the past decade. With its 15000 ft runway, it has one of the longest runways of any airport in the world - this being a necessity due to the airports elevation - 1000 ft - and the relative heat in these parts of the world. The city's other airport, N'Dolo, has a 6500 ft runway, and is used mainly for domestic traffic.

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Our flight touches down at ten past four in the morning - twenty minutes ahead of schedule, due to strong tail winds. Even though it only touches down an end after the treshold, our flight comes to a halt before the first taxiway. Applying some extra throttle, the crew turns off the runway and steers the DC-6 towards the apron.

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While some of the passengers aboard our plane will be taking the connecting Sabena flight to Johannesburg - which will land in about two hours and depart another hour later - we will be taking a slight detour via Luanda...

To be continued
 
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