Simon Bradshaw (
major_clanger) wrote2014-09-26 07:33 pm
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I haven't seen her for six years, but she's as beautiful as ever
About six years ago I got to see the last flying Vulcan, XH558, shortly after she had returned to the air for the first time since 1993. I've been meaning to catch her again sometime, and so when I saw that there was a Cold War Tour of former V-Bomber bases planned for 25th September I was pleased to note that one of the sites was the former RAF Gaydon, now home to the British Motor Heritage Museum.
Fortunately, my diary remained clear other than a short client conference that morning so at about 12.30 I headed off down to Gaydon. Getting there early proved a good idea; even at 1.30, an hour and a half before the scheduled flypast time, the main car park was nearly full. I took the opportunity to have a look around the museum itself, which was offering half-price discounted entry for the day; lots of interesting bits of British motoring history, including the first production examples of the Land Rover Series One, Mini and Range Rover, various weird Land Rover variants (including one on tracks!), assorted Lotuses, Aston Martins and Jaguars, and a DeLorean in Back To The Future get-up.
About half an hour before the due time, I wandered out to the landscaped earth bank where by now a good two or three hundred other spectators were waiting. I'd bought my Canon 70D and 70-300mm zoom, although I noticed a fair few photographers with significantly snazzier and more expensive-looking kit lined up and waiting. I'd installed the Vulcan tracker app on my phone, and watched as it headed past Cambridge and due west towards us. The commentator from the Vulcan Trust was only slightly more in the picture than we were - he was listening in to local air traffic - but a few minutes behind schedule he announced that XH558 was inbound.
And then an approaching roar. There she was.



Very low, and very loud.
I'd assumed that we would get, quite literally, a fly-past. But the commentator announced that there would be another pass, and a couple of minutes later, we had a repeat performance.

This time she approached with the bomb bay open, the doors closing as she accelerated over us and pulled up to climb away.


Was that the end? No. There was another pass. I fumbled quickly to swap to my 10-20 wide-angle zoom for some shots with the crowd.



One more pass, with a spectacular wing-over, and then she was off north-east towards her next flypast at RAF Wittering. There was a round of applause - in some ways odd (the crew could hardly hear!) but very heartfelt. The Vulcan is an incredible aircraft, and it's a thrill to see her in the air. Depending on how the life of her engines can be managed, and as ever on whether enough funds can be raised, XH558 may have one or two more years flying, so take the chance to see her while you can.
Fortunately, my diary remained clear other than a short client conference that morning so at about 12.30 I headed off down to Gaydon. Getting there early proved a good idea; even at 1.30, an hour and a half before the scheduled flypast time, the main car park was nearly full. I took the opportunity to have a look around the museum itself, which was offering half-price discounted entry for the day; lots of interesting bits of British motoring history, including the first production examples of the Land Rover Series One, Mini and Range Rover, various weird Land Rover variants (including one on tracks!), assorted Lotuses, Aston Martins and Jaguars, and a DeLorean in Back To The Future get-up.
About half an hour before the due time, I wandered out to the landscaped earth bank where by now a good two or three hundred other spectators were waiting. I'd bought my Canon 70D and 70-300mm zoom, although I noticed a fair few photographers with significantly snazzier and more expensive-looking kit lined up and waiting. I'd installed the Vulcan tracker app on my phone, and watched as it headed past Cambridge and due west towards us. The commentator from the Vulcan Trust was only slightly more in the picture than we were - he was listening in to local air traffic - but a few minutes behind schedule he announced that XH558 was inbound.
And then an approaching roar. There she was.




Very low, and very loud.
I'd assumed that we would get, quite literally, a fly-past. But the commentator announced that there would be another pass, and a couple of minutes later, we had a repeat performance.

This time she approached with the bomb bay open, the doors closing as she accelerated over us and pulled up to climb away.


Was that the end? No. There was another pass. I fumbled quickly to swap to my 10-20 wide-angle zoom for some shots with the crowd.



One more pass, with a spectacular wing-over, and then she was off north-east towards her next flypast at RAF Wittering. There was a round of applause - in some ways odd (the crew could hardly hear!) but very heartfelt. The Vulcan is an incredible aircraft, and it's a thrill to see her in the air. Depending on how the life of her engines can be managed, and as ever on whether enough funds can be raised, XH558 may have one or two more years flying, so take the chance to see her while you can.