Cancelled.

I took the photo above (click on it to see a larger version) recently in Erith Town Centre; the image shows the bus halt outside of Erith Riverside Shopping Centre. Despite being located in the most Northerly part of the London Borough of Bexley, Erith has an exceptionally good number of bus services, covering most of the borough and beyond; I would go so far as to say that Erith has the best bus connectivity of any town in the London Borough of Bexley, with the exception of the much larger Bexleyheath. For those less inclined to use public transport for whatever reason, there has recently been some rather alarming news related to recent figures released on the sale of private cars. For years, the UK electric vehicle (EV) market boasted impressive growth, positioning itself as a leader in Europe's green motoring revolution. However, 2023 painted a different picture. Sales stalled, leaving industry experts and policymakers scratching their heads. One key factor is the government's withdrawal of the Plug-in Car Grant in June 2022. This £1,500-£3,000 subsidy made EVs significantly cheaper, enticing buyers to take the plunge. With its disappearance, EVs suddenly became less attractive compared to petrol and diesel alternatives. While battery prices are falling, EVs still carry a premium price tag, a barrier for many budget-conscious drivers. This disparity is even starker when factoring in the rising cost of living, pushing fuel-efficient petrol cars back into consideration. Concerns about range limitations and inadequate charging infrastructure continue to haunt potential EV buyers. The UK, while boasting progress, suffers from disparities in charger availability, particularly in rural areas. This "charging desert" creates anxiety about running out of electricity before reaching a plug, deterring hesitant customers. The variety of EVs available in the UK, particularly in the affordable segment, is still limited compared to other countries. This lack of choice restricts options for budget-conscious buyers and hinders the overall appeal of EVs to a wider audience. The government's recent delay in banning the sale of new petrol and diesel cars by 2030 sent mixed signals. This move shook investor confidence and cast doubt on the UK's long-term commitment to electrification, prompting some manufacturers to hold back on aggressive EV investments. Fuel prices, while volatile, have dipped in recent months, making petrol and diesel cars seem relatively more economical in the short term. This, coupled with the fading lure of incentives, has nudged some buyers back towards traditional combustion engines. Comments to me at hugh.neal@gmail.com.

Sidcup's Nevil Shute Norway, or simply Nevil Shute as he was known to the world of literature, was a man of two distinct, yet brilliantly intertwined, talents. He was a skilled and innovative aeronautical engineer, leaving his mark on the world of aviation, and a talented novelist, whose stories resonated with readers across the globe. Born in 1899 in Ealing, Shute's life was shaped by a fascination with technology and storytelling. Shute was the son of Arthur Hamilton Norway, who became head of the Post Office in Ireland before the First World War and was based at the General Post Office, Dublin in 1916 at the time of the Easter Rising, and his wife Mary Louisa Gadsden. Shute himself was later commended for his role as a stretcher-bearer during the rising. His grandmother Georgina Norway was a novelist. Shute attended the Royal Military Academy, Woolwich, and trained as a gunner. He was unable to take up a commission in the Royal Flying Corps in the First World War, which he believed was because of his stammer. He served as a private soldier in the Suffolk Regiment, enlisting in the ranks in August 1918. He guarded the Isle of Grain in the Thames Estuary, and served in military funeral parties in Kent during the 1918 flu pandemic. He later studied engineering at Oxford, and also qualified as a private pilot. An aeronautical engineer as well as a pilot, Shute began his engineering career with the de Havilland Aircraft Company. He used his pen-name as an author to protect his engineering career from any potentially adverse publicity in connection with his novels. Dissatisfied with the lack of opportunities for advancement, he took a position in 1924 with Vickers Ltd at Crayford, where he was involved with the development of airships, working as Chief Calculator (stress engineer) on the R100 airship project for the Vickers subsidiary Airship Guarantee Company. In 1929, he was promoted to deputy chief engineer of the R100 project under Barnes Wallis. When Wallis left the project, Shute became the chief engineer. The R100 was a prototype for passenger-carrying airships that would serve the needs of Britain's empire. The government-funded but privately developed R100 made a successful 1930 round trip to Canada. While in Canada it made trips from Montreal to Ottawa, Toronto, and Niagara Falls. The fatal 1930 crash near Beauvais, France, of its government-developed counterpart R101 ended British interest in dirigibles. The R100 was immediately grounded and subsequently scrapped. Shute gives a detailed account of the development of the two airships in his 1954 autobiographical work, Slide Rule. When he started, he wrote that he was shocked to find that before building the R38 the civil servants concerned '"had made no attempt to calculate the aerodynamic forces acting on the ship"' but had just copied the size of girders in German airships. The calculations for just one transverse frame of the R100 could take two or three months, and the solution '"almost amounted to a religious experience." But later he wrote that '"the disaster was the product of the system rather than the men at Cardington"; the one thing that was proved is that "government officials are totally ineffective in engineering development" and any weapons (they develop) will be bad weapons. The R101 made one short test flight in perfect weather, and was given an airworthiness certificate for her flight to India to meet the minister’s deadline. Norway thought it probable that a new outer cover for the R101 was taped on with rubber adhesive which reacted with the dope. His account is very critical of the R101 design and management team, and strongly hints that senior team members were complicit in concealing flaws in the airship's design and construction. In The Tender Ship, Manhattan Project engineer and Virginia Tech professor Arthur Squires used Shute's account of the R100 and R101 as a primary illustration of his thesis that governments are usually incompetent managers of technology projects. In 1931, with the cancellation of the R100 project, Shute teamed up with the talented de Havilland-trained designer A. Hessell Tiltman to found the aircraft construction company Airspeed Ltd. A site was available in a former trolleybus garage on Piccadilly, York. Despite setbacks, including the usual problems of a new business, Airspeed Limited eventually gained recognition when its Envoy aircraft was chosen for the King's Flight. With the approach of the Second World War, a military version of the Envoy was developed, to be called the Airspeed Oxford. The Oxford became the standard advanced multi-engined trainer for the RAF and British Commonwealth, with over 8,500 being built. For the innovation of developing a hydraulic retractable undercarriage for the Airspeed Courier, and his work on R100, Shute was made a Fellow of the Royal Aeronautical Society. On 7 March 1931, Shute married Frances Mary Heaton, a 28-year-old medical practitioner. They had two daughters, (Heather) Felicity and Shirley. At this time he and his family lived for many years in a house in Hatherley Road, Sidcup.  While his engineering career flourished, Shute harboured a secret passion for writing. In 1926, he published his first novel, "Marazan," under the pen name Nevil Shute. This decision to separate his literary persona from his professional life stemmed from a desire to protect his engineering reputation from the potential whims of the publishing world. Shute's novels often drew inspiration from his technical expertise. Books like "Lonely Road" and "An Air Gone Mad" explored the intricacies of aviation and its impact on human lives. But his true literary prowess lay in his ability to weave compelling narratives around everyday people caught in extraordinary circumstances. By the outbreak of the Second World War, Shute was a rising novelist. Even as war seemed imminent he was working on military projects with his former boss at Vickers, Sir Dennistoun Burney. He was commissioned into the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve (RNVR) as a sub-lieutenant, having joined as an 'elderly yachtsman' and expected to be in charge of a drifter or minesweeper, but after two days he was asked about his career and technical experience. He reached the "dizzy rank" of lieutenant-commander, knowing nothing about "Sunday Divisions" and secretly fearing when he went on a little ship that he would be the senior naval officer and "have to do something". So he ended up in the Directorate of Miscellaneous Weapons Development. There he was a head of engineering, working on secret weapons such as Panjandrum, a job that appealed to the engineer in him. He also developed the Rocket Spear, an anti-submarine missile with a fluted cast iron head. After the first U-boat was sunk by it, Charles Goodeve sent him a message concluding "I am particularly pleased as it fully substantiates the foresight you showed in pushing this in its early stages. My congratulations." His celebrity as a writer caused the Ministry of Information to send him to the Normandy Landings on 6 June 1944 and later to Burma as a correspondent. He finished the war with the rank of lieutenant commander in the RNVR. Shute's novels are written in a simple, highly readable style, with clearly delineated plot lines. Where there is a romantic element, intimacy is referred to only obliquely. Many of the stories are introduced by a narrator who is not a character in the story. Shute's heroes tended to be like himself: middle-class solicitors, doctors, accountants, bank managers, and engineers—generally university graduates. However (as in Trustee from the Toolroom), Shute valued the honest artisans and their social integrity and contributions to society more than the contributions of the upper classes. Aviation and engineering provide the backdrop for many of Shute's novels. He identified how engineering, science, and design could improve human life and more than once used the anonymous epigram, "It has been said an engineer is a man who can do for ten shillings what any fool can do for a pound." His 1957 masterpiece, "On the Beach," stands as a testament to this talent. Set in a post-apocalyptic world ravaged by nuclear war, the novel follows a group of survivors in Australia as they face the inevitable end. It's a poignant and thought-provoking tale of resilience, love, and the enduring human spirit in the face of unimaginable catastrophe. Shute's other notable works include "A Town Like Alice," a heartwarming story of a woman's wartime courage and resourcefulness, and "Trustee from the Toolroom," a suspenseful exploration of corporate espionage and betrayal. In 1950, Shute, disillusioned with the political climate in Britain, migrated to Australia, where he lived until his death in 1960. He continued writing throughout his time in Australia, his later novels reflecting his adopted home's landscapes and culture. Nevil Shute Norway's legacy is one of dual brilliance. He was a pioneer in the field of aviation, leaving behind a legacy of innovative designs that shaped the course of air travel. But it is his literary contributions that truly cemented his place in history. His novels, with their blend of technical expertise, relatable characters, and profound themes, continue to captivate readers to this day, offering timeless insights into the human condition and the ever-changing world around us. Shute's life and work remind us that creativity can take many forms, and that even the most technical minds can harbor a deep well of storytelling magic. He was a man of both wings and words, forever soaring in the realms of engineering and literature, leaving behind a legacy that continues to inspire and resonate.

Vox originally had factories in both West Street, Erith, and in Dartford Road, Dartford. In recent years the Vox brand has been owned by the giant Japanese music instrument manufacturing company Korg. Founder Thomas Walter Jennings started the business, then called JMI (Jennings Musical Instruments) in Dartford in 1958, when he took a prototype guitar amplifier which had been demonstrated to him by big band guitarist and Belvedere resident Dick Denney two years earlier, and turned it into a working, commercial product – the Vox AC-15. The AC-15 was almost immediately purchased by Hank Marvin, and the unique sound of the Shadows was down primarily to the use of Vox amplification. Soon after, the “British Invasion” of the early 60’s was under way, powered almost exclusively by Vox amplifiers. Keeping it local, Dartford’s own Rolling Stones used Vox, as did The Kinks, The Yardbirds, and in what was one of the very earliest pieces of celebrity product placement, Vox amplifiers were promoted and exclusively used by The Beatles, after manager Brian Epstein negotiated a deal – one which greatly benefitted JMI, who were pretty much called Vox by this point. As the audiences for gig got bigger, and the venue sizes increased, the need for more powerful amplification became evident – the 15 Watt AC-15 was not powerful enough; JMI effectively nailed two AC-15 amps together to create their all time classic Vox AC-30 amplifier – a model still in production to this day. Contemporary musicians who employ the AC-30 include Brian May of Queen, who was the first person to create a “wall” of AC-30’s to create his unique and totally distinctive sound; the late Tom Petty and Rory Gallagher, Pete Townshend, Ritchie Blackmore, Mark Knopfler, Paul Weller, and the Edge of U2 – pretty much all of rock royalty use or have used Vox amplification. JMI also manufactured guitars, many of which were technically ground breaking – including active pickups, and built in sound effects – the down side of this was that they tended to be heavy and ugly, and did not pick up many celebrity users. JMI / Vox also invented the Wah Wah pedal – most famously used by Jimi Hendrix, and the fuzztone distortion pedal used by Jimmy Page, then of the Yardbirds, and soon to be of Led Zeppelin. Vox / JMI also created the very first wireless microphone system, early models of which gained a reputation from picking up interference from nearby mini cab radios. Another very successful and influential product made by JMI / Vox at Erith was the Vox Continental electronic organ, which most famously featured on “The House of the Rising Sun” by the Animals, and “Riders on the Storm” by the Doors (actually, pretty much any Doors track heavily features the Vox Continental – it was integral to their sound, as unusually they did not have a bass player - the bass parts were played on the organ).

An unfortunate story unfolded last week; the flamboyant and controversial charity worker Camila Batmanghelidjh died, aged only 61. I had a personal connection with her; in the early 2000's her charity the Kid's Company had office space in a building that was owned by my then employer, the accountancy giant KPMG. I was employed as a senior IT analyst, based in the office located in Blackfriars Road, Southwark - the office building is now long gone, replaced with a large hotel. As part of KPMG's corporate social responsibility programme back in the day, they granted The Kid's Company charity some rent free office space in the building.  Unfortunately, the Kid's Company staff did not seem to be able to grasp the fact that they had only a free tenancy - they did not have access to systems and services available to the KPMG areas of the office. Nevertheless I was constantly badgered for technical support by Kid's Company staff. Without exception the people working for the charity were lovely - committed, empathic and sincere. The trouble was, they had no idea of modern technology, and the organisation did not employ someone to support their computers, phones, copiers and printers. I digress. Camila Batmanghelidjh, a name synonymous with both remarkable charity work and a dramatic downfall, left a complex legacy when she died on New Year's Day, 2024. Her life and work were a tapestry woven with threads of compassion, ambition, and ultimately, controversy. Born in Iran in 1963, Batmanghelidjh came to England as a child and went on to study psychotherapy. In 1996, she founded Kids Company, a charity aimed at supporting disadvantaged children in London's inner city. Kids Company quickly gained recognition for its innovative approach, offering hot meals, educational support, and therapeutic services to thousands of children who fell through the cracks of traditional systems. Batmanghelidjh, with her flamboyant personality (she did dress in the fashion of the photo above on a daily basis) and unwavering belief in the potential of every child, became a media darling. She rubbed shoulders with politicians and celebrities, garnering millions in donations and accolades. The Guardian dubbed her "one of the most powerful advocates for vulnerable children in the country," and she was even awarded a CBE for her services. Kids Company's success, however, was not without its critics. Questions were raised about the charity's financial management and its unorthodox methods. In 2015, allegations of mismanagement and inappropriate spending led to a government investigation and ultimately, the closure of Kids Company. Batmanghelidjh stepped down, her reputation tarnished. The following years were marked by legal battles and public scrutiny. While no wrongdoing was ever proven, the shadow of the scandal hung heavy. Yet, amidst the controversy, it is important to remember the undeniable impact Kids Company had on countless children. For thousands in deprived communities, Kids Company was a beacon of hope, offering a safe haven and a chance to break free from the cycle of poverty and neglect. Batmanghelidjh's vision, however flawed, undeniably ignited a movement for increased support for vulnerable children. Camila Batmanghelidjh's story is a complex one, filled with both triumphs and failures. It is a story that raises questions about the nature of charity, the role of government, and the challenges of helping those most in need. While her legacy remains contested, her commitment to serving vulnerable children cannot be denied. Comments as always to me at hugh.neal@gmail.com.

From some research I have undertaken over the last week, it would seem that a large portion of the Slade Green Marshes is being sold off to property developers - indeed Berkeley Homes have already purchased a substantial amount of land for future house building. Specialist commercial estate agents Kallars describe the site as:- "Formerly a breakers yard, Kallars present 33.5 acres of prime strategic land at Ness Road, DA8. Available to purchase in smaller lots; The site borders a similar parcel recently acquired by 'Berkeley Strategic Land Limited'. A section of hard standing from the historic yard remains and adjacent lies Darenth Industrial Park. The land is bordered on the South East by Burnett Road, which is an unclassified public highway. There is a lay-by at the junction of Ness Road, Wallhouse Road and Burnett Road, and the land can be viewed from the roadside/footpath. There is a gated access from Burnett Road. * various drainage watercourses that run across the land as flood defences. * easement for a water supply pipe and pressure drains running along the south and south east boundary. No pre-planning advice has been taken and buyers are asked to make their own enquiries before any unconditional purchase. Strong commercial/residential development potential (STP). The land is sold on an unconditional basis, purchasers considering alternative uses or even development are deemed to rely upon their own enquiries". The former marshland site is up for sale for £290,000. You can read more about it on the Rightmove site here. 

One of the UK's largest and longest running classic car shows is under threat; Bromley Pageant of Motoring had been expected to return to its traditional home at Norman Park, Bromley later this year, but the venue now falls within the expanded ULEZ low-emissions zone. Whilst vehicles over thirty years old are exempt from the ULEZ charge, many of the classic cars, trucks and buses that are exhibited at the show are transported to and from the site via a trailer and a modern towing vehicle. Additionally many of the visitors to Bromley Pageant of Motoring travel to the venue by car. As a result, the organisers have decided to cancel this year’s show while looking for alternative locations to bring it back in 2025. In a statement to Kent Online announcing the cancellation, the organisers said: “Following the introduction of the ULEZ zone across Greater London, we have taken considerable time to evaluate all options for the future of the Bromley Pageant of Motoring, including whether it would be viable to still hold the Pageant at Norman Park, Bromley. It became clear that Norman Park is no longer an option and any move to a new venue and date needs to ensure that this firm favourite of the classic car calendar has a bright future. We have made the very difficult decision to not hold the event in 2024 but are working on plans to bring back the Bromley Pageant of Motoring in 2025. We appreciate the support we have received from car owners, clubs, trade and visitors over the time we have had the honour of looking after the Pageant and we are as disappointed as you that it will not take place this year. We do look forward to what the future will hold for this wonderful event, and we hope to bring you further details later in the year.” The end video this week is a look at last years' Bromley Pageant of Motoring. Comments and feedback to me at hugh.neal@gmail.com.