The Numbers Game
Not sure exactly when I became aware of the existence of aircraft registrations, but it was Spring 1976 at the tender age of eleven, that I really got the spotting bug. Starting secondary school had given me a new freedom. Together with a few school friends, we were all allowed to catch the bus on a Saturday's from our homes in Coleshill to spend time at the airport. This was either in the cafeteria or viewing lounge at Birmingham Airport or in better weather adjacent the emergency entrance gates or the golf course located in Marston Green.
Later this same year I made my first to visit Heathrow. An amazing day was spent on top of Queens Building. As you can imagine watching the endless line of approaching airliners had sealed my fate and I had become well and truly hooked.
Pedal power ensured that Birmingham Airport was visited as much as school and homework would allow. Rather less of the latter done when any big exhibitions at the nearby NEC produced large numbers of general aviation movements. I still remember the sight of Runway 06/24 used to park visiting aircraft during the first motor show to be held in Birmingham.
Later years at school allowed more spotting; we were allowed to leave school to play golf in game's lessons. Naturally Marston Green golf course provided the venue. Play was generally interrupted when anything interesting landed, binoculars and cameras selected from the golf bags rather than a iron or wood. So if you were one of those golfers held up by this activity, I apologise now.
I also tried visiting as many other airfields and air shows as possible. This was largely achieved by travelling on trips organised by the local aviation societies; MCAS and TAS. In addition to Heathrow these trips introduced me to the delights of Luton, Gatwick, Manchester, Greenham Common, Mildenhall, Farnborough and numerous other airports and air shows.
Further family holidays gave me the opportunity to note a few more exotic aircraft in Yugoslavia and Tenerife and gave me flights on JAT Boeing 727's and Aviaco DC-8's.
The summer of 1980 was the first overseas spotting trip. I managed to persuade my parents to let me go on a trip around France organised by TAS. Along with a handful of Brummies and a great many more Mancunians we crossed the channel to Le Havre. Not that I really remember the crossing as this also coincided with my first exposure to duty free booze. Sore heads all round we started our journey and over the next 10 days we were treated to the delights of Bordeaux, Toulouse, Perpignan, Marseille, Nice and Paris. Any excellent trip that I would still like to repeat the itinerary today. Although I don't think the residents of Nice ever recovered from Steve sunbathing in his purple Y fronts and white vest!
The following year saw the discovery of the fairer sex and my first ever aviation sacrifice due to the feminine kind. I gave up going to Mildenhall air show in order to go on a first date with a young lady who lived around the corner from me. The relationship might have only lasted eight days but it taught me something that probably still ring's very true today: that Women and spotting don't cohabit easily.
Leaving school and travelling daily to college in Nuneaton, together with my first serious relationship seriously impacted the spotting over the next two years. Although that autumn, did see some further overseas exploration. Firstly in the form of a coach trip to the air show at Soesterberg, Utrecht. This involved three coaches travelling from London and a ferry crossing to Ostende and again too much duty free. This was followed by a trip to Frankfurt by air. The idea was to go youth hostelling in the Frankfurt area in order to have a week's spotting. This was my one and only exposure to youth hostelling and after about 3 days we all checked in to a hotel. Even then I obviously craved my creature comforts too much.
Finishing college in a economic recession meant a period of unemployment before getting my first employment opportunity with Central Birmingham Health Authority. Working south of Birmingham City centre, then travelling to meet the next love of my life in Nuneaton, seven nights a week meant that yet again a sparse period of spotting ensued. Odd pilgrimages to Heathrow were undertaken but surprisingly visits to Birmingham Airport were very rare.
This all changed when in June 1984 I joined the fledgling airline Birmingham Executive Airways based in offices at Birmingham Airport.
