She learnt to fly an Auster for
Noele Gordon Takes the Air, a series about local flying clubs, and was ready
to go solo in 12 weeks. To prove the whole thing was genuine, Air Vice Marshall Sir Philip Joubert came to the Birmingham
studios in 1959 to give Nollie her "wings".
She took up skin-diving for the programme Your Kind of Sport - and has been an enthusiast ever since - and learnt
to fish for A New Angle on Noele Gordon, describing the sport as "just like Russian roulette - you never know what's
coming up next!"
For Lunch Box, she became the try-anything-once girl. She rode an elephant, dressed up as a circus clown,
entered a cage of lions and went down a mine.
A few breathless minutes with three untrained lions she describes as "tremondously exciting, something quite primeval
about the strength and agility of those beasts". But the mine was something else. "That was terrifying," she said.
"It was a very deep new pit at Cannock Chase and we finished up the last hundred yards or so to the face crawling
on our hands and knees. The fantastic thing is that men spend their lives doing that. For men expected to do that,
£100 a week would be nothing. I came out very strongly on the side of the miners."
Noele Gordon is a warm and generous woman, talkative, opinionated, emotional and concerned for others. She has
a sardonic sense of humour and a hearty laugh. She treads a fine line between the lady and the tomboy.
"I always watch my behaviour wherever I am. This is the difference between my generation of actors and the young
generation. I still do not think I should be seen out in trousers, though, obviously, there have to be exceptions to
this.
"I never have my picture taken smoking because, although I smoke like a furnace, I don't think it's right that any child
who watces me should be able to turn round and say 'Well, Meg Richardson does it.'
"If I should want to smoke myself to death, drink myself to death and live with forty mean at a time, that would be my
own business and I'd keep it my own business. I wouldn't make a public thing of it and say to young people, 'I smoke,
I drink, I live in sin.'
"This, I think, is wrong and immoral, and it's something I resent about many modern actors and actresses. They
are trying to impress their views on how to live on other people."
I watched Noele on location at the Shropshire Farm Institute at Baschurch - the "model" for the Crossroads motel
- where despite unavoidable delays in intense cold she remained calm, patient and helpful. Having given up most of her
lunch-hour to a picture session she then found time to give an improptu stand-up interview to the local newspaper.
And I watched her again on a motor launch outside Jersey harbour, taking faceful after faceful of spray for the benefit
of photographer Peter Bolton.
"I have," she said, "a great sense of dignity - I don't like being knocked off my plate."
What could disconcert Noele Gordon? What could "knock her off her plate"?
After a pause, Noele said: "If I'm boasting about anything and someone tries, quite rightly, to take me down a
peg.
"I have an idea about what is boastful and what isn't. If anybody tells me I have beautiful eyes I will agree,
because this is something I can do nothing about. I think it's quite right to be proud of a physical asset with which
one has been born.
"But if anyone says I have beautiful hair, then I fall about because it's dyed, and this is something only money
and time can do.
"Then again, I have worked very hard for my house. So if anybody admires it, I'm tremondously proud.
"But I think it's very wrong to boast about being a good actress, because this is something that has come to me through
a lot of experience, which I've been very lucky to have had. I've had opportunities denied to thousands of others.
"I'm grateful to ATV for giving me all those hair-raising experiences, because now I have a unique understanding of all
sides of television.
"The average actor does six television shows a year, and nobody has the time to tell him what's going on in the studio,
which is unfortunate - so many great performers get on to the TV studio floor and don't really know what's happening.