it or not, flying was once romantic and glamorous. It was
actually a thing to look forward to with passengers being pampered and
cosseted rather than herded through terminals like cattle and crammed
into uncomfortable seats like so many battery hens.
Transatlantic flights were an adventure, not an exercise to see how
long one could remain in a shoebox eating foul meals. Flight was
the stuff of dreams.
In the early decades, flying was promoted with a spirit that can only
be called evangelical. No one was entirely sure what the
aeroplanes of the future would be like, but they would certainly be
worthy of the visions of the pioneers. They foresaw many of the
technical advances we enjoy, but not the development of the
indispensable/nonessential transport system constantly distorted by
relentless economic pressures of today that serves as the greatest
advert for rail travel ever conceived.