Mile High

I don't know why I feel so sad about Concorde's passing.

There was never any chance of me flying on it. In fact, the closest I ever get to Concorde is when it goes over my head four times a day on its way backwards and forwards to NY - a faster-than-usual dot in the sky. Actually, no, that's not true. I've seen it on the ground at Heathrow. It looked really small (the way everybody famous is always small in real life) and very 1970s.

I'm uncomfortable about the fact that it was millions of ordinary tax-payers who coughed up for the plane's development back in the 60s and 70s - handing over shed-loads of tax wonga just so David Frost could get back in time for dinner.

But still, I don't know...

British Airways make me sick. They got Concorde for a song, (in fact they got it for nothing - the British government had to give it away because all the airlines wanted 747s instead). They (BA) proceeded to cream millions from it. Then, when things get a bit rocky after the Paris crash and 9/11 they dump it. Just because the profits aren't quite as high as they used to be. I love you, capitalism.

I suppose what's sad is that Concorde was one of the last things we made that was any good. These days the only thing Britain exports around the world is paedophiles. But back then it was different. Yes, I know it was an Anglo-French thing, but it was still 50% British. And while France has gone on to develop a thriving aerospace industry, our manufacturing base is making plastic owls to give away in Golden Nuggets breakfast cereal.

British aerospace industry unveils Concorde replacement.