Reg at Sywell - Expat in Kaliningrad, Russia

Reunion at Sywell Aerodrome UK

19 June 2023 ~ Reg gets his Wheel Nuts out at Sywell Aerodrome

If, like me, you have a sentient rapport with the first half of the twentieth century, in particular the 1920s to the 1940s, and Art Deco is a design style that you just can’t live without, then the Aviator Hotel in Northamptonshire is something not to be missed. It is called the Aviator as the hotel is conveniently situated on the perimeter of Sywell airfield. People who name things think of everything, don’t they?

All airfields in the UK have an interesting historical background and Sywell is no exception. It originated in 1927, when a local landowner let 55 acres of his land to the Northamptonshire Aero Club and was opened officially in 1928 by Air Marshall Sir Sefton Brancker. Throughout the 1920s Sywell went from strength to strength. By 1929 it had its own clubhouse and hangar and by the close of the decade it owned two Gipsy Moth aircraft and played host to 14 different types of aircraft. The first half of the 1930s saw a new clubhouse constructed at Sywell, now known as the Aviator Hotel, and the day-to-day running of the aerodrome pass into the hands of the Brooklands Flying School, known throughout the world today as Brooklands Aviation Ltd. In the second half of the 1930s, leading up to World War II, the airfield’s facilities expanded considerably to cater for a civil RAF training school, and another hangar was included as an RAF repair depot for Wellington Bombers. During the war, Sywell Aerodrome was shrouded in secrecy, as it was here where close on 100 Mark II Lancaster Bombers were built. Sywell Aerodrome escaped enemy bombing during the war thanks to its heavy camouflage.

Among the luminaries who have visited and/or played an officiating role at Sywell Aerodrome are Amy Johnson, Errol Flynn, Freda Jackson, HRH Queen Elizabeth and HRH Prince Phillip and, of course, me.

In 2019, Sywell Aerodrome received the AOA Best General Aviation Airfield in the UK award. Methinks that the Aviator Hotel should receive an award of its own.

Everything about the Aviator is right, in that everything hits the Art Deco spot, from its Art Deco modernist exterior, with its elevated aircraft feature, to the simple but stylish lobby, to the wood wall panelling, to the chevron parquet floor, to the style and effect of the lighting, to the deep low-slung cloud-iconic armchairs, to the historic photos displayed on the wall and the evocative aviation relics exhibited in its display cabinets.

If I wasn’t there to do it for him and Biggles was to stroll through the front entrance looking dashing in his leather flying helmet and white silk scarf and the well-healed flappers seated around the tables sipping at their cocktails and posing elegantly with their long, sleek cigarette holders were to fill the air with more than smoke, toying with such words as ‘divine’, ‘heavenly’ and ‘blissful’, you would hardly be surprised.

At the Aviator and at Sywell Aerodrome itself, there is plenty of divine and therefore plenty to be blissful about. The bar and restaurant speak for themselves, but sit out on the terrace on a warm, sunny day and gaze quiescently across the turfed back garden onto the perfectly mown lawns of the airfield and watch the helicopters and light private planes flitting about in the bright blue sky whilst you sip on the amber nectar. If you are lucky, you might be privy to the famous wartime Spitfire or any one of a dozen aircraft deserving of their classic status, since Sywell is a magnet to them.

The perfect events venue

It is its long history of aviation and the facilities at its disposal which makes Sywell the perfect venue for retro and vintage events. Sywell holds several air and vintage shows annually, some on a large scale, as well as being a favourite meeting place and dance venue for 1940s’ afficionados. In our hey-day, that is when we were running the vintage emporium, Olga and I attended several of these events, escaping from the 21^st century if only for an evening.

Mick Hart and Olga Hart at Sywell Aerodrome

On a scale not quite so expansive but none the less enduring, is Mr Reg B’s Wheel Nuts. Reg and his followers have been displaying their nuts, and the rest of their vehicles, on a slice of hard ground at the rear of Sywell Airfield, out front of the Sywell Aviation Museum (more about this in a later post), for as long as I can remember, which is actually seven years. Reg and his fellow Wheel Nuts are wed to, or at least have a long-standing love affair with, restoring, driving, displaying and treasuring vintage and classic motor vehicles.

Once a month, on the first Tuesday of the month, come rain, hail, snow or shine, (well, at least come shine), Mr Reg can be found officiating in his own inimitable style over the gathering of his Wheel Nuts. It is difficult to say which of the two are happier, the vehicles or their owners, as it is a nice day out for both parties. Anyone can roll up in their car and anyone can come and view, and it don’t cost you nowt. For, as long as I can recall, Reg has never knowingly, or even probably accidently, run anything for profit, although on those rare occasions when it does happen, we worry a lot about what went wrong.

In a previous life, the one in which we owned and ran an antiques and vintage emporium, Reg was my favoured partner in ‘crime’, my ‘wheel man’ ~ he was a ‘wheel man’ long before he became a Wheel Nut! This is another way of saying that on our many missions to assess items with a view to purchase, especially house-clearance missions, Reg wore the chauffeur’s hat; he also wore a sheepskin jacket which made him look like Del Boy’s stand-in. His other claim to fame was that he was excellent packer. He could cram things into a van as if he’d invented the Rubik Cube.

The last time I saw Reg, none of us had ever heard of coronavirus, so for this our first reunion in four and a half years, I wanted to surprise him. Reg knew that my brother and our friend Martin would be attending his latest car-club event, but he had no idea that I would sneak up on him, tap him on the shoulder and ask if he had a can of WD40 which I could use on my ‘squeaky wheelbarrow’ ~ a private joke that would take far too long to explain. Every cloud has a silver lining!

“Blimey,” he said, sounding genuinely surprised, “It’s Mick, from Russia!”

And it was all downhill from there.

I have to say, however, that unlike the first Wheel Nuts event that I attended seven years ago, today’s turnout was commendable ~ they must have known that I was coming. Whilst Reg and I talked bullshit, for old times’ sake (I wrote in my email later, “It’s amazing how much bullshit and banter two people can squeeze into forty-five minutes!”), my brother and our associate Martin were sworn in as deputy photograph-takers. Below is a collage of their snapshot skills and some of the wonderful Wheel Nut wagons displayed at Sywell this June.

Nice work, Reg. You always were a promising student!