From my breakfast coffee to fried eggs was only a small step…
The First Fried Egg
Who first fried an egg?

What manner of man (or woman)

Initially cracked that delicate, yet tough

Ovoid shell, and dropped its

Glutinous, semi-transparent contents

Into sizzling hot cooking fat?

Who first decided that

The yolk’s glistening golden orb

Should sit, proudly supreme,

Surrounded by a virginal white cloud

Like the ochre late summer sun

In a pale September sky?

Was the first fried egg

Cooked sunny-side up?

Or flipped, over-easy? Basted? Or

Griddled crisp and brown,

Until all that glorious colour

Charred to a dull toast on both sides?

Was the first fried egg

Actually an accidental omelette?

Ignorantly or carelessly broken,

So that yellow and white

Mixed together haphazardly

And formed an ugly, uncharted map?

Who first discovered

The joys of a double yolk?

Those interlocking bright mustard spheres

Twice multiplying the sunshine

On your breakfast plate,

Like car headlights through a foggy dawn.

Who first fried an egg?

Was it some prehistoric cave dweller

On a scalding fireside rock?

Or an unknown, ancient chef de cuisine,

In search of nouvelle delights

For his trendy clientele?

Who first fried an egg?

What pioneer cook valiantly grappled

With that clinging, self-adhesive

Semi-liquid, as it stubbornly glued itself

To the surface of the pan

In those dark pre-Teflon times?

Who first fried an egg?

What culinary explorer took this secret fruit

And turned it into a breakfast delight?

Who discovered beneath that hard elliptic crust

Dwelt nature’s nutritious bounty?

And, more importantly, who ate it?!

Tony Beadle Copyright © 2005

The Cost of Deflation

My destination was Croydon in Surrey, barely an hour away. The purpose of this brief excursion was to meet potential new clients and, as they had approached me, I was very excited at the prospect.

The route involved joining the M.25 at junction 16, driving anti-clockwise to junction 7, then heading north. Our appointment had been arranged at a sensible 11.30am and, dressed to impress, I left home early. Successfully negotiating the motorway racetrack unscathed, I made the turn-off onto the A.23 with time to spare.

Shortly afterwards, while entangled in an unfamiliar one-way system, I noticed the car seemed to be pulling to the nearside. Double yellow lines and busy traffic forced me to drive on for almost a mile before I could find a side road in which to stop and investigate. Yes, it was a puncture.

Changing the wheel didn’t really take that long (unless compared to a Formula One pit crew, that is), but now I was behind schedule and my hands were filthy. Then, when I finally found the office, there was nowhere to park and the nearest meter turned out to be streets away. Panic mounting, I ran back.

Somewhat dishevelled and rather distraught, I got to the meeting twenty minutes late. Needless to say, my presentation was pathetic, and I came away feeling as deflated as the tyre in the boot.

It turned out to be quite a costly day – I didn’t get the job and I had to buy a new tyre!

Tony Beadle Copyright © September 1999

“We have heard so much about your British pubs, can you show us some of them?”

This was in the days before breathalyser tests and strict drink driving laws, so that evening I arrived at the hotel in my car to pick them up. Our first stop was The Master Robert on the Great West Road in Hounslow, a pub named after a famous racehorse, where each of them quaffed a pint of Fuller’s Extra Special Bitter (5.5%) with gusto. We then moved on a few miles to the Express Tavern situated at the northern end of Kew Bridge over the River Thames. This time the tipple was a bitter named Bass (4.7%) which also met with approval. Crossing over to the south side of the Thames we visited Ye White Hart in Barnes to sample Young’s Special Bitter (4.6%) and after a couple more stops we ended up in the Duke’s Head at Putney.
The beer was again Young’s Special Bitter but the undoubted hit of the evening was a plate of fairly ordinary bread rolls filled with slices of cheese. When I poured the Germans into the hotel lobby later on they were still enthusing about the rolls and their appreciation was repeated at our factory meeting the following day. While this pub crawl earned me plenty of brownie points with the director, I had a hell of job getting my expenses for the outing accepted by the accounts department!
But the most extraordinary pub crawl came about when my wife was working for an American medical products company. The UK office was hosting a conference which was being attended by managers from all over Europe and her boss decided that they would organise a pub crawl around London for the delegates. Because there were too many people for one group, they were split into several smaller parties.
For a few joyous weeks my part in the exercise was to spend time each night travelling around London on the Underground sampling the pubs near various stations and mapping out different routes. Imagine it, actually being paid to go out to a pub and drink beer – sheer heaven! In the meantime, my wife was busy contacting all the European offices requesting that the conference delegates supplied their hat sizes, which caused no end of confusion in some countries as you might expect.
On the night in question, each delegate was issued with a bowler hat and a rolled umbrella together with a train ticket and instructions of how to get to the first pub. Once they had bought a drink, the barman would give them the name and location of the next pub on the journey. All the groups ended up together at a famous dockside pub in East London called the Prospect of Whitby (the name of an old sailing ship) where everyone enjoyed a great meal and were presented with engraved pint mugs as souvenirs.
A popular pastime when pubs were more plentiful and there was little in the way of alternative forms of entertainment, the halcyon days of the classic British pub crawl have now long gone.
My first experience of a true pub crawl was in my late teens during a summer camping holiday with the Air Training Corps, a sort of Boy Scout movement for those more interested in aeroplanes than woodcraft. The squadron was spending a week at an RAF base near the Yorkshire market town of Beverley and on Saturday a bus took us into the town centre for a night out.
Just outside Beverley is a horse racing track and in those days whenever there was a race meeting many thousands of visitors would arrive. In order to cope with this huge influx of thirsty punters, over time more and more pubs were opened along the High Street until, when us cadets arrived on the scene, there was something like 30-plus drinking establishments in less than half a mile! In our youthful naivety we decided we were going visit every single pub that night… I cannot remember exactly how many we did get to or the number of drinks I had – or even how bad my hangover was the next day – but it was certainly a memorable experience.
One curiosity in Beverley was a pub – I’ve forgotten its proper name – that all the locals called ‘The Push’. Enquiring about this peculiar nomenclature that didn’t seem to bear any relation to the name displayed outside, I was told that some years earlier the sign had fallen down and wasn’t replaced for quite a while. During the signboard’s lengthy absence, the only identifying feature on the building’s facade was the front door with a large brass plate that had the word ‘Push’ engraved on it, so that’s what everyone called the pub and the name stuck, even after the proper sign was re-erected!
Since that initiation into the ritual of the pub crawl I have since taken part in many similar excursions, but never have I found anywhere with the concentration of boozers that once existed in Beverley. However, there are two other pub crawls that particularly stand out.
Much later in life, when I was employed as a Project Engineer by a multi-national corporation, our factory in West London was visited by a group of engineers from a German machine manufacturer. As they were staying at a nearby hotel I was instructed by the Sales Director to look after them that night. When I asked the three men what they would like to do, the senior engineer replied:

“We have heard so much about your British pubs, can you show us some of them?”

This was in the days before breathalyser tests and strict drink driving laws, so that evening I arrived at the hotel in my car to pick them up. Our first stop was The Master Robert on the Great West Road in Hounslow, a pub named after a famous racehorse, where each of them quaffed a pint of Fuller’s Extra Special Bitter (5.5%) with gusto. We then moved on a few miles to the Express Tavern situated at the northern end of Kew Bridge over the River Thames. This time the tipple was a bitter named Bass (4.7%) which also met with approval. Crossing over to the south side of the Thames we visited Ye White Hart in Barnes to sample Young’s Special Bitter (4.6%) and after a couple more stops we ended up in the Duke’s Head at Putney.
The beer was again Young’s Special Bitter but the undoubted hit of the evening was a plate of fairly ordinary bread rolls filled with slices of cheese. When I poured the Germans into the hotel lobby later on they were still enthusing about the rolls and their appreciation was repeated at our factory meeting the following day. While this pub crawl earned me plenty of brownie points with the director, I had a hell of job getting my expenses for the outing accepted by the accounts department!
But the most extraordinary pub crawl came about when my wife was working for an American medical products company. The UK office was hosting a conference which was being attended by managers from all over Europe and her boss decided that they would organise a pub crawl around London for the delegates. Because there were too many people for one group, they were split into several smaller parties.
For a few joyous weeks my part in the exercise was to spend time each night travelling around London on the Underground sampling the pubs near various stations and mapping out different routes. Imagine it, actually being paid to go out to a pub and drink beer – sheer heaven! In the meantime, my wife was busy contacting all the European offices requesting that the conference delegates supplied their hat sizes, which caused no end of confusion in some countries as you might expect.
On the night in question, each delegate was issued with a bowler hat and a rolled umbrella together with a train ticket and instructions of how to get to the first pub. Once they had bought a drink, the barman would give them the name and location of the next pub on the journey. All the groups ended up together at a famous dockside pub in East London called the Prospect of Whitby (the name of an old sailing ship) where everyone enjoyed a great meal and were presented with engraved pint mugs as souvenirs.

All previous books covering the history of the British motor caravan industry have regarded the Bedmobile conversions as something of a mystery, usually mentioning them only briefly, if at all. Thanks to more than two years of diligent research, this new book by Tony Beadle records the story of the Taylor Bedmobile motor caravan in detail. Order online now!

REVIEWS

Open Road (the magazine of The Period Motorcaravan Guild) Autumn 2011: “The author has made an excellent job of the research… A thoroughly enjoyable book and one of the best I have read for some time.”

Classics Monthly, January 2012: “If there’s an uncharted niche in British motor industry history, Tony Beadle is the one to shine his torch of curiousity at it and not leave until he’s discovered some nuggets to hook readers in with… this is a delightful book charting the Taylor story. If you love a good automotive mystery you’ll enjoy this one.”

Lynn News : “… well researched and carefully illustrated book …”

Hillingdon’s motoring heritage chronicled in Armadale to Aquila – Available NOW! – Order Online here

What do the 1907 Armadale tri-car made in Northwood, the sporty Aquila kit car from Ickenham and Dr Who’s Daleks have in common? All is revealed in Armadale to Aquila: The History of Vehicle Manufacturing in Hillingdon – the latest book from Tony Beadle.

The Taylor Bedmobile of Sedgeford

All previous books covering the history of the British motor caravan industry have regarded the Bedmobile conversions as something of a mystery, usually mentioning them only briefly, if at all. Thanks to more than two years of diligent research, this new book by Tony Beadle records the story of the Taylor Bedmobile motor caravan in detail. Order online now!

Armadale to Aquila

The London Borough of Hillingdon’s automotive heritage involves many different companies – and the full story is chronicled in this 152-page softbound volume which features over 200 evocative period illustrations along with personal reminiscences. In addition to motor cars, also made in the district were buses, lorries, fire engines, taxis, vans, motorcycles, caravans, bicycles, tankers, dumper trucks – and even those pesky Daleks for BBC TV!

Read More – Full Press Release Here

Armadale to Aquila: The History of Vehicle Manufacturing in Hillingdon

Author: Tony Beadle
Publisher: Panic Button Press
ISBN: 978-0-9566538-0-2
Softbound,
152 pages Size: 245mm x 170mm
Over 200 black and white illustrations

Reviews

VSCC Bulletin, Winter 2010 issue: “This delightful book should be on every Christmas present list; it is packed with information and interest, written in an entertaining style and well illustrated. This book can be enthusiastically recommended to all with a motoring interest.”

Transport Trust Digest December 2010: “I have read the book carefully and with much interest because it is very readable and a valuable source of reference. The many period illustrations are especially good and the captions contain additional useful details. Social history – and there are many human stories and anecdotes in the manufacturers’ sections – plus technical and engineering details make this book a model example of entertaining and instructive writing. I strongly recommend this book and hope it may be a useful exemplar for other such studies.” Rob Shorland-Ball

Octane magazine, December 2010 issue: “Fans of the obscure corners of motoring history will cherish this compendium of the vehicles made in the London Borough of Hillingdon since 1907 – and the variety is amazing, from WW1 army lorries to Wood & Pickett Range Rovers. We loved the Cambro cycle car, made by the Central Aircraft Co with a fuselage for a body. Very well illustrated, well printed, this is local history at its best.”

The Automobile magazine, December 2010 issue: “For this interesting survey Tony Beadle has included car and commercial vehicle builders, coachbuilders, caravan manufacturers and pedal cycle makers, as well as accessory, component and equipment manufacturers.

“Commencing with Armadale of Northwood, who built three-wheelers and full-sized cars in the period 1906-07, he includes the lorries, buses and cars built by McCurd at Hayes; Lang Wheels of Hillingdon Heath, who made fairground dodgem cars; the Cambro cyclecar built by Central Aircraft Company of Ruislip and Kilburn (probably the smallest and cheapest car ever offered in Britain); Rudge and Wooler motorcycles; and Micron Plastics, whose glassfibre bodies were used by Fairthorpe, amongst others.

“The Peerless and its successor, the Warwick, are included since, like the Coronet three-wheeler of New Denham, their fibreglass bodies were sourced from James Whitson & Co of West Drayton.

“This paperback is well researched, profusely illustrated and contains a wealth of information previously unknown to this reviewer.” Michael Worthington-Williams

Classic & Sports Car magazine, December 2010 issue: “West London was once flush with car builders, and this paperback about auto links to Uxbridge records that history. Tony Beadle highlights such diverse businesses as Wood & Pickett, Microplas and Edge. The historic photos are superbly reproduced.”

Giles Chapman (award-winning author and former editor of Classic & Sports Car magazine, Your Classic magazine, etc): “A mini-masterpiece of research.”

Hillingdon Family History Society Journal, December 2010 issue: “This is an astonishing work… Tony Beadle has done a great service to local history in recording a phase which could otherwise have been completely forgotten. Full of excellent illustrations…”

Classics Monthly magazine, January 2011 issue: “Great variety of stuff, from buses to motorbikes, cars, caravans and taxis. Large number of period pictures and advertisements.”

Classic & Vintage Commercials magazine, January 2011 issue: “A fascinating run-down of the history of vehicle manufacturing in the London Borough of Hillingdon… author Tony Beadle has uncovered a wealth of information and intriguing facts… Lots of nostalgic black-and-white photos and well worth a read… will definitely hold something of interest for any fan of transport history.”

The Roads and Road Transport History Association Journal, December 2010 issue: “…a fascinating and well-illustrated survey… a century during which an amazing variety of vehicles emerged from this outer London borough…””

SIXappeal magazine, October 2010 issue: “A fully illustrated book detailing the amazing variety of cars, lorries, buses, taxis, motorcycles, caravans, etc, and even Daleks (!) manufactured in the Hillingdon area over the last 100 years. Tony Beadle is a stickler for accuracy and I can vouch for the painstaking effort he has put into chronicling this particular piece of local history.” Alan Crussell