The front cover of the well produced book of about 100 pages. It was designed in London and printed in the Netherlands.
An advertisement for Zambia Airways, well loved for its indefatigable Dakota aircraft with flapping wings, the Morris Minors of the air. On a trip from Kitwe to Lusaka, in heavy weather, rain-water was slowly trickling through the rim of my port-hole. I called the flight attendant and asked, in good humour, "Do you know this aircraft is leaking?" Her response brought the house down: "It's a wonder it's flying!" When we used the brand new Lusaka International Airport for a flight to Livingstone, I felt somehow uneasy about the flight call. When everyone was seated, I said to the flight attendant, "We're going to Livingstone. Where's this plane going?" Her answer: "This is the Ndola flight". Most of the folk aboard duly unfastened their safety belts and disembarked. Teething troubles.
An advertisement for a huge and admirable project which, I believe, finished up as a muddy track. President Kaunda noticed a flood of copies of Chairman Mao's Little Red Book in the country, and ordered that the Chinese workers on the project refrain from handing them out. At about the same time, our bookshop somehow got onto a mailing list which resulted in regular arrivals of children's books and stirring tracts, all Maoist propaganda.
Advertisement for the Ridgeway Hotel, Lusaka, the venue for important gatherings as well as visiting dignitaries.
Advertisement for the Edinburgh Hotel, Kitwe, which outdid the Ridgeway for luxury and prestige. It was the obvious venue to hire when McGraw-Hill publishers asked me to arrange a "do" for local academics and technical experts. It also hosted an exhibition of sculptures by Rodin - the real thing. The menu was wonderful, especially the Bombe Alaska, but one evening I asked the waiter what "rognons" were. We didn't have those in our GCE "O" level French in Newark. "Do you really want do know?" he asked. "Of course," quoth I. "They're shit" he replied.
Ah, the Union-Castle Line. It has a special meaning for our family.
One of my older brothers was an involuntary passenger when the Carnarvon
Castle was commissioned and stripped down for service as a troop carrier
during World War II. I travelled on the same ship, refurbished for peace-time,
when I went with my parents to Africa in 1953. The fare shown in this advertisement
is much higher than what we paid.