The previous instalment of Jack Hill's memoirs can be found under Islington on this website. Jack, who, as a young man in the 1950's, worked for a firm of London architects, was given the opportunity of working on a project in Kuwait, and describes here the various preparations for the journey abroad:-

A clothing allowance for tropical kit was provided, but it had to be spent at Austen Reed's shop in Regent Street, where styles were rather old fashioned and based on the clothing usually worn by the army overseas.

Inoculations were undergone and there was nothing left to do but prepare myself for the big adventure, first flight and only my second time out of Britain.

The flight was scheduled to leave in early January but due to snow in Rome the take off was delayed for several days, during which time all the passengers were taken to an hotel in Bayswater where we were kept almost in quarantine in case a flight could be arranged quickly. Staying in a classy hotel was something I had  seldom experienced so this was another notch in the growing up process. This was also the first time I had seen television and here was a set large enough to project the picture on to the wall behind , positively amazing.

The plane was a four-engined Argonaut of British Airways and as the flight was in daylight I was able to get my first glimpse of Mont Blanc and the Alps generally.

The stopover procedure was not clear to me so I failed to queue for food until late and so had a problem with the little brown bag when the flight was resumed.

The second leg took us as far as Cairo for a refuelling and my first encounter with the oriental smell. Most people alighted here and so when the remaining few re-embarked we were able to sit wherever we chose. It was strange to be flying over the Red Sea and be reading Hans Hass's book about being under the Red Sea.

Dusk was falling as we arrived over Kuwait, but as the lighted oil drums cast too poor a light for landing, the pilot opted to continue to Bahrain where they had electric lighting. So another evening in an up market hotel but fortunately one which had a section for Western food and drink.

Next morning, we were taken by bus back to the airport along the causeway and here was my first impression of a roadside littered with Arabs, all squatting in the sand and doing their constitutionals. The ladies on board of course averted their eyes but the chaps all had a good laugh.

The morning was cool and pleasant, but when we arrived in Kuwait an hour later and stepped out of the plane it was just like walking into an oven. Problem was that when I left Britain, I was wearing a suit and duffle coat, and as they had to be taken off the plane, wearing them was the only solution.

The airfield turned out to be an area of sand graded smooth and marked by the oil drums. I was met by the office manager Bill Eades and transported in his Morris Minor to the camp used by expatriates. The workforce at that time was mainly Britishers for supervisory work, Indians for clerical and technical work, and Palestinians and Iraqis for the labouring tasks.

Our camp had guards at the gate and so alcoholic drinks were available at the bar of the clubhouse of which we were immediate members. Living accommodation comprised 'chummery' blocks which housed five men in separate bedrooms with shared living and dining rooms, kitchen and living quarters for two staff, and ablution facilities at the other end.

Usually, a chummery had people from a particular company, but in addition, Ewbanks had several married staff who were all housed in proper dwellings and located at the sea end of the location.