Above photo shows one of our Fokker 27 aircraft on the tarmac at Kangaroo Island airport.

I was right on time and met up with the girl who was to train alongside me. Her name was Faye and she was very attractive and we were going to get along well together and in future years, would enjoy being rostered on together. So began three weeks of very intense ground training with two of the check hostesses. We were in a small room adjacent to the hostess lounge. There was no window, which perhaps was just as well, so there would be few distractions. There was always emphasis on the all-important emergency procedures. We had continuous tests on our knowledge of these and a pass of at least ninety percent was expected. So much for those people who thought we were just glorified waitresses, I thought to myself. I also was of the opinion that there would be absolutely nothing wrong with being a good waitress and the attitude of the time was silly and snobbish.

The training was, as I've said, intense, but I loved it all; the pervading smell of avgas, the comings and goings of aircraft and seeing the other ASA hostesses arriving for their tours of duty, all looking so elegant and well-groomed. Some were to become good friends, although at this stage, there was little time for socialising, as we really needed to focus. I didn't mind, as this job was what I'd wanted for several years. I wasn't dating anyone at the time, which is perhaps just as well as I needed to give all my attention to the contents of three thick hostess manuals; one for emergency procedures, one for grooming requirements, route geography and passenger care and the other for first aid.

As it was winter and a particularly cold one, I used to go home after the day's training, sit in bed and revise work from that day. My dear mum would bring me my meal in bed. Saturday night's entertainment was KC Kasem's American top 40, which I used to enjoy greatly.

Following ground training, came five weeks of equally intense in-flight training with an assigned trainer. By now I had my first uniform, a raspberry pink dress, coat and jacket along with a little hat with a tassel in the middle. Mum called it my monkey hat. We wore navy blue shoes and bags.

My feet were blistered from new shoes and I had big bruises on my legs and arms, as I had yet to find my balance in an often bumpy aircraft. In bed at night, I'd still feel the plane's motion, which was strange, but not unpleasant. My trainer was a pretty blonde girl called Noeline. We got along well, but she would hasten to correct me firmly when necessary

Standards were very high. Hat and gloves had to be worn when disembarking and farewelling passengers. Also hair was expected to be combed and fresh lipstick applied if necessary. How were we to get time? Things were often very busy just prior to disembarkation; checking passengers who needed special assistance to walk to the terminal, unaccompanied children and handing down coats from the luggage racks.

I sometimes tumbled down the stairs, with hat half on and not much lipstick either .The airport was like a wind tunnel and so hair didn't stay tidy for very long, except for one girl, whose hair was sprayed within an inch of its life. Her hair didn't move, not one strand. There were no civilised projections from the terminal which joined the aircraft at the door, allowing passengers to walk along, protected from the weather.

Grooming checks were frequent and often on the spot. It was humiliating to fail a grooming check. We were all expected to wear girdles, and to prove we had one on, had to ping the elastic at the top of our leg. Weighing was also carried out and once, when the hostess scales had broken, we were taken out into the terminal to weigh on the baggage scales. The check hostess had the nerve to actually call out the weights in front of staff and passengers. Can you imagine? That would certainly not be allowed today.

I learned so much over those five weeks, eight in all. I was able to use the aircraft PA system for the departure and safety announcements, serve food and drink properly without spills, even on a rocking aeroplane. I came to enjoy our various routes and got to know familiar landmarks on the way to Kangaroo Island, Port Lincoln (we dubbed it Stinkin Lincoln, but it's a very beautiful town on Boston Harbour), Ceduna, Whyalla, Broken Hill and Woomera. Later Mt Gambier was added. I enjoyed doing the cabin safety demonstration; however in the mornings, I was often worried that I might have accidentally left on my pink fluffy slippers. I'd had a dream once where that actually happened.

I finally was awarded my wings in November 1973 at a little ceremony with just me, Faye and Miss Munro our supervisor. I felt the world was at my feet and indeed it would be for the next eleven and a half years.

As it's now July 2023, it's fifty years since that eventful part of my life. In some ways, it seems like fifty minutes ago. Time is a strange phenomenon. I'm going to celebrate my anniversary date, ninth of July, with bubbly, naturally, and my favourite fish and chips. Perfect.

I'll be reflecting on my time as an air hostess, All Those Years Ago.

 Also, to celebrate, I'm working on a sequel to my first published book;' Here, There and Everywhere...Memoirs of an Air Hostess'. It's to be titled 'Here, There and Everywhere Else' and will talk about places and events that I didn't mention in the original book, as well as some wonderful holidays which occurred after my flying days.

PS; The title All Those Years Ago is taken from the George Harrison song of the same name; a song I greatly enjoy as it has special meaning for me.

Below, a drinks coaster from my flying days. I still have quite a few of these and use them from time to time, but not too often as they get stained easily and have to be thrown out.