Concorde: Reliving a supersoni

Concorde, the British–French turbojet-powered, supersonic marvel, flew until 2003. Image: Adobe Stock

Concorde: Reliving a supersonic, 20th century magic carpet ride

In its heyday the Concorde was the ultimate blend of luxury, technology and upmarket travel. Now that it is no more, this writer believes the glamour of flight is gone forever.

Concorde: Reliving a supersoni

Concorde, the British–French turbojet-powered, supersonic marvel, flew until 2003. Image: Adobe Stock

The 21st century has stripped the magic out of flying. As would-be travellers gaze longingly skyward looking for any sign of a contrail or strain to hear the whistle of a jet engine, it’s a great time to think about the world before cattle class, premium economy, business class and first class. 

Harking back to the age of flying “magic” also doesn’t mean thinking about the Pan Am Clipper flying boats of the 1930s and 1940s.

You can go back to the age when Concorde, that supreme, droopy-nosed, supersonic flying machine ruled the skies and an era that ended when it was withdrawn from service in 2004 — partly a victim of its maintenance costs and dropping profitability.  

Corcorde rewrites the history books

After taking to the skies with its first flight in 1969, looking all the world like its delta-wing fighter and bomber descendants, the Concorde began toppling aviation records whenever it took to the heavens. 

There is simply no other word besides heaven to describe cruising in the silent, indigo blue of the stratosphere on the edge of space and looking through a small circular window and seeing the curve of the earth about 60,000 feet (18,300m) below. 

Watch: Concorde’s final takeoff from JFK Airport in 2003:

What it felt like to fly on Concorde

For me, my first sight of the world beneath was a confusing experience, provoking feelings of power and, immediately afterwards, the realisation of just how small I was in the scheme of things. 

I experienced the singular joy of travelling on this magnificently lean, mean machine between New York and London about two years before it was taken out of service.

The “power” came from travelling at a steady 2,200 km/h and watching that tiny dot (a Jumbo also on its way to London) vanishing beneath behind Concorde as we passed 30,000 feet above on our stratospheric flight path. 

I remember the feeling of being tiny from looking down at the glory of endless skies, vistas of clouds and the infinite curve of the globe.

Even pulling up at Concorde terminal a big deal

But becoming part of the magic began when my feet were still firmly on the ground, and I slid into the (medium-priced) hotel limo wearing jeans, a T-shirt and sneakers, and asked the driver to shoot across town to JFK Airport.

It was great when he asked the inevitable “Which terminal?” to nonchalantly reply “Concorde” and see the momentary surprise in the eyes examining you in the rear-view mirror.

The look changed to one of puzzlement when he realised that I didn’t look famous or rich, the usual requirements to be one of about 100 people on the flight. (Of course, by then it was too late to retract and realise I had raised his expectations about his tip.) 

Almost famous in the Concorde lounge

Then, there was the Concorde Terminal. No bully boys in khaki uniforms and shiny brown shoes (otherwise known as emigration officers) in sight. In their place, smiling agents making luggage vanish, plunking stamps in passports and respectfully (just in case I was famous or an IT billionaire) welcoming me. 

Two minutes later, there I was, in the luxurious Concorde lounge trying to appear nonchalant as I scanned the room for celebrities. (How are you Charles, how’s your Mom? Going to Buck House, are you?) 

I have to admit most time was spent unsuccessfully trying to ignore the delta-winged, sparkling, slender beauty staring back at me through the floor to the ceiling glass wall.

Taking off like a fighter ace

exhaust nozzles concorde
The Concorde’s famous exhaust nozzles. Image: Adobe Stock

Take-off was the closest I will ever come to being a fighter ace (take that, Tom Cruise). Afterburners fired to coax take-off power from the massive engines and we were up, climbing steeply away from the mere mortals below.

Then it was a world of vintage champagne, soft leather seats enclosed in a slender 62m long world and the muted conversation that goes with the clink of crystal and gourmet cuisine. 

The captain’s announcement that we would be going supersonic over the open sea and the flashing, increasing airspeed numbers on the digital bulkhead Machmeter in the cabin told us more was to come.   

Breaking through the sound barrier

Then it was on with the afterburners, a thrust forward to overcome the increased atmospheric resistance caused by going supersonic. Then, two slight bumps as the jet broke through the sound barrier on its way to Mach 2 and, within 30 minutes of departure from New York, that effortless smooth flight in indigo heaven.

The landing at Heathrow was as extreme as the take-off, again mimicking the pronounced angle of take-off and approach that is a feature of delta-winged aircraft.

The streamlined needle-shaped nose designed to penetrate the atmosphere drooped to give the flight crew a clear view of the airstrip, and we were down. 

In under three hours, it was over. The experience and first-class treatment a thing of the past. Nothing to show for where I had been and no option but to join the cattle and premium economy hordes on their way to the tube station.

Waxing lyrical about the wonders of Concorde

Concorde
A view of the cockpit of a decommissioned Concorde supersonic aircraft. Image: Adobe Stock

I have since had the option of visiting Concordes in several museums around the world. I could then bore people around me by talking about my supersonic flight.

Getting into my stride, I could wax on about riding above four Rolls Royce/Snecma Olympus engines each capable of producing 17,260kg of thrust and that feeling of flashing along the runway for take-off and reaching 360km/h in just 30 seconds.

Given the opportunity of seeing a Concorde again, however, I think it is more probable that I will stand quietly and enjoy the memories.