Part 2
Part 3
The first step was to downsize from our large weather board family home with its high maintenance workload and expense to a smaller unit with lower costs in labour and dollars. With a son in law as a builder we soon moved into a very attractive new home.
Having travelled around Australia enough to satisfy us, we now had an ambition to see the world. With much study of travel literature, a general plan was made to follow good weather as much as possible. With the purchase of a Round the World Ticket from Qantas we could now travel for one year within the constraints of a reasonable budget. We planned to be travellers, booking accommodation and travel as we went, avoiding more expensive tourist packages. In this way we could vary the length of stay at each destination in order to enjoy what we found as we wished.
For the first part of our journeys we did act as tourists, staying at the Domion Hotel in Fiji and the Hawaiian Monarch in Hawaii. In Waikiki we saw poverty for the first time with a man selling second hand newspapers. In the Domion the room windows were taped over to prevent recent cyclone damage. A Fijian maid was asked to pass on a message to the Indian handyman – “Would he please come and remove the tapes.” Her answer was- “Indian man pushy, I tell him nothing.” Further racial prejudice was encountered when an Indian lady travelling with us said – “The Fijians are lazy. Indians do all the work and pay all the taxes. Fijians do nothing – very lazy.”
During the first week or so of travel the experiences we had were a little jumbled as we had not yet settled down to keeping a record daily. In Vancouver we stayed at an excellent Bed and Breakfast for five days being treated like family guests. Other guests were Americans and Canadians. We heard of more prejudice, this time between the English speaking and French Canadians. Cereal packets are printed in both languages. Some people spend their time in supermarkets turning whole shelves of packets round to display their own preferred language - a symptom of the national division.
A day and night Greyhound bus trip took us to San Francisco with lingering memories of passing through forests of giant sequoias and a passing view of Seattle’s city buildings lit up at night. Our destination gave us our first taste of how expensive the U.S. can be. The Embarcadero Y.M.C.A. Hotel was basically comfortable but overpriced stretching our budget to its limit. Here again beggars in the streets sat listlessly nursing such signs as – “Homeless and hungry. Please help me.” Negro children at Fisherman’s Wharf posed as statues seeking alms from passers by. Street theatre was fascinating around Pier 99 with clowns, mimers, jazz and other musicians, magicians, jugglers, a mechanical robot man, artists, break dancers and many others. Sampling clam chowder, riding the cable car, looking over The Bay at San Quentin, marvelling at the Bridge, and attending the earthquake multi-media show supplemented an enjoyable four day stay.
Easter at an Anaheim Best Western Motel situated us at the corner of the huge Disneyland car park for five days. The Disney fantasy was enchanting with lasting memories of the giant circular screen with its journey through the Grand Canyon. Other lasting memories are –Great moments with Mr. Lincoln-The Tiki room with a musical luau featuring animatronic birds and flowers-Pirates of the Caribbean-Country Bear Jamboree-It’s A Small World-street performers and hosts of other features.
On Good Friday the Universal Studios Tour entertained us with-Smurfs are coming-Hollywood stunt men show-Screen test comedy theatre-a tram tour through the sets of film and television shows where we witnessed how special effects are created with a Star Wars scene, an animated Jaws and a collapsing bridge.
A day at Knott’s Berry Farm treated us to chain saw sculpturing in wood, a Can Can show and an excellent side performances of log rolling, B.M.X. bike tricks and entertaining skate board riding. This was a great place to take children with its challenging playgrounds and activities. Our stay in Anaheim was well worthwhile.
Las Vegas was our next destination with a very enjoyable stay indeed at the Stardust on the Strip paying twenty-one dollars a day for double accommodation. There were free meals for gamblers at Westwood Ho, cheap meals at the Peppermill and an amazing breakfast buffet next door at Circus Circus. Here hundreds of people lined up for an unlimited variety and quantity of food. Loud speakers requested diners to please select whatever dishes they wished but implored them not to be wasteful. This had little effect however, as mounds of food were left on plates. This gambling capital of excitement, lights and entertainment is a tourist target for coast to coast Americans with their greetings “Hi! Where are you from?” Many had as much difficulty understanding each other’s accents as they had understanding our Down Under lingo. One amazing sight was the number of obese people –truly a national problem. We only dabbled with the pokies and played a couple of hands of two-deck blackjack. One night we attended the Mickey Finn stage show with some good jazz. As Aussies we were startled by the attendant’s demand for payment to be taken to our table and seats. Apparently many waiters and ushers gain their main income from tips. Next night we walked the length of Las Vegas Boulevard and saw much that we would otherwise not have noticed. On the walk there were more than twelve wedding chapels. The Candlelight Wedding Chapel that we visited claimed that three hundred ceremonies had been conducted therein during the last fortnight. The end of our walk took us to Downtown Las Vegas, a blaze of color and excitement with its lights turning night into day. The sight of a beggar bag lady sleeping in a side doorway saddened us to see such poverty next to so much ostentatious wealth.
St. Louis was our next city to visit, staying at the Executive Inn near the airport. Here we only visited the city to ascend the huge arch giving a grand view of the Mississippi. The dining room at the inn was a popular place for the locals to gather on a Sunday for lunch and we gratefully enjoyed the friendly ambience. The next day we walked a mile or more to catch a plane for a one- day visit to Memphis to see Graceland. This astonished passing motorists causing double takes from drivers unused to seeing such a rarity as pedestrians in this place.
Elvis Presley’s achievements were portrayed to show the astonishing story of his life, a memorable experience. A lazy rest on a park bench allowed time to view the mighty Mississippi flowing by with curious squirrels scurrying around our feet. Having some hours to fill in before catching a return flight to St. Louis we visited the lobby of the Peabody Hotel. The budget didn’t allow for expensive food or drinks so we ordered a pricey enough pineapple juice to justify being there. The waiter kept bringing us little snacks saying we were welcome “Down Under” visitors. It was amusing to watch the passing parade of people wandering around the sumptuous surroundings, especially those fascinated by the piano playing by itself with its moving keys. They would walk around it, look under and behind it, shrug their shoulders and walk away quite mystified. Eventually an announcement came over a loudspeaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, you have seen the Peabody ducks who spend each day in the pond at the middle of the lounge area. At five o’clock each evening a red carpet is unrolled for them to march across to the elevators which transport them to their penthouse suite on the roof. Visitors who wish to witness the parade please move to the pond area now.” So there they were, the Peabody ducks waddling in dignified single file to their night quarters on high. When we boarded the taxi to take us to the plane the driver had a man sitting beside him. We were told to lock our doors, as there was always a possibility of being mugged when the vehicle was stopped at a red light. The front passenger was there to discourage such attacks.
From St. Louis we progressed to the capital Washington where we were lucky enough to find a place to stay at Rock Creek Hotel. In the afternoon we were directed to a bus we understood would take us into the city. Instead it took us through miles of Negro quarters which appeared more alien and forbidding the further we went, especially as we were the only white people on the bus. A kind motherly lady eventually leaned over and told us the next stop was the Union Metro station where we could catch an underground train to the central city. We had some trouble finding a map or directions and by now we were quite lost. Fortunately a girl at customer service Woodies Department store knew the district round Rock Creek Hotel and it was an easy journey home in the underground. The hotel was one of the cheapest at thirty dollars a day plus four dollars tax and was situated in quite a salubrious area. However I must have been unnerved by the day’s bus adventure because I woke up in the early morning hours and shouted. “We’ve been robbed.” This had the effect of startling my wife who had been peacefully sleeping. We discovered that what had wakened me was errant cats knocking over dustbins outside our room.
Next day we casually caught the underground to Metro Central. After walking a few blocks we found Visitors’ Centre in Pennsylvania Avenue 4000. We were told our previous day’s experience was not unusual. With maps and information in hand we walked to the Museum of American history where we saw First Ladies’gowns, a Nation of Nations display showing the ethnic influences on the development of U. S. population. Also there were displays of the physical sciences, American Maritime enterprise and Agriculture among others. After seeing the Smithsonian Institute we boarded a Tourmobile bus with narration to visit the Washington Monument, Jefferson Memorial, Lincoln Memorial, Vietnam Veterans Memorial, Arlington Cemetery and the White House completing a pleasant and informative day in the good company of other sightseers in beautiful spring sunshine.
Another day and we were now veterans at finding our way around. At the Air and Space Museum an elderly gentleman conducted us around some of the earliest of aircraft, to rockets and planes of World War 2 and to present day Space Programs. A special effects film on a huge curved screen took us on a balloon flight over Niagara Falls. Then we were taken on a hair-raising flight in a barnstorming plane- an amazing experience. That evening we arrived back at the hotel tired and super saturated with Washington lore. Our few days had been highly informative and educational, but we felt that much more time was needed to truly appreciate such a fine city.
“Way down yonder in New Orleans” beckoned us. We decided not to travel to New York because of budget constraints and a felt need to settle down and really savour one place. We found the St. Charles guesthouse at thirty dollars a night including a continental type breakfast on the streetcar line to Downtown and the French quarter. Added bonuses were the friendly hosts, perfect weather, swimming pool and evening happy hours with the proprietor serving snacks and drinks. We really appreciated being able to chat with locals and the other American guests. One of the current topics was the amalgamation of black and white pupils in schools. There was concern at what was claimed to be an over-hurried and artificial ethnic mix with transporting of children across town, but a much greater concern was that provision of education was deteriorating in the public school system. People we spoke to told us that they were transferring their children to private schools although they could ill afford the high fees.
A guided walking tour introduced us to the French quarter that gave us some appreciation of its lay out and history. Next we sampled the delights of Jackson Square with the biggest collection of working artists we had yet seen, with street theatre and jazz, jazz, jazz. We’ve eaten red beans and rice and catfish. At Jackson Brewery, a large building packed with eating-places, we sampled shrimps in a “Po Boy” (a flat baked bread) and southern fried chicken. At night we ate strawberries and oranges we bought at the farmers’-market open twenty four hours a day. At the bank we couldn’t be advanced cash on Visa card without identification including a photo, we returned with our passports the next day. We’ve been swimming each day at our lodgings.
Next day we boarded a Mississippi riverboat cruise taking five hours down into Bayou territory. This gave us some insight into the living environment of the Cajuns, a people of French descent. On the banks and through the locks as we passed by, the impressive industrial development was displayed before us on the third biggest river in the world after the Amazon and the Nile, with its second largest port (not the second busiest). The following day was a lazy one of rest with a swim in our pool and lunch in the Shell building where white-collar workers of the city eat.
In continuing beautiful weather on Wednesday April 24 we explored the local Garden District around where we were staying with its old stately wooden mansions, reminders of gracious living in the good old days. Catching a tram to the zoo gave us a good idea of the regional swampland country with an insight into the Bayou. The display showed how the Cajuns lived hunting and fishing. Alligators and turtles lurked in the waters. We were enchanted by an excursion of Negro infant grade children being impressed by the elephants on show.
Another day and another guided walking tour in the French Quarter with the theme myths and legends of New Orleans. We stood outside the building where the dentist murdered a young girl as part of his quest for hidden treasure. Standing on the sidewalk we gazed up at the top of a building opposite as our guide recounted the story of the cruel Creole master who subjected his quadroon mistress to a love test – “If you truly love me you’ll spend a night naked on the roof.” It is said that her ghost is seen between the chimneys on December nights to this day. Many are the mystical folklore stories such as how the queen of voodoo influenced the politics of the region. With tired legs we lunched again at Jackson Brewery; afterwards sitting and watching the passing parade by the mighty river.
Next morning we were taken on a tour over the Superdrome, the biggest indoor sports stadium in the world. Then we were thrilled to spend the afternoon at the famous New Orleans Heritage Jazz Festival at the Fairgrounds. We roamed from tent to tent hearing the blues, boogie, Dixieland, country and western and all sounds in between. The main joy of the day was the Gospel Marquee where we stayed for a long session. The Kennedy High School Gospel Choir was an exciting experience with an extremely talented choir mistress leading the students to great heights of splendid singing, an emotional performance during which the performers and audience got quite carried away. There was only a sprinkling of white faces in the audience in which we were made most welcome although a woman next to us took a large knife from her bag. We viewed this nervously until she also took out a large cake that she cut into slices offering us a piece each. Convicts from the local prison performed an outstanding item. During this item police and prison officers with guns in holsters were ranged around the stage. The beautiful singing belied the apparent menace before us. Attractive girl students behind us gave us fans to cool us down.
We were enjoying entertaining street theatre at Jackson Square, with a unicycle rider juggling and jazz groups performing when it was interrupted by police cars and motor bikes with sirens sounding. This was an escort for Cadillacs carrying guests in grey tails. Everyone was moved back quickly while wedding guests were ushered into St. Mary’s Cathedral for a VIP ceremony. Americans surely love street theatre in all guises. Near Jackson Square patrons drank coffee and beer at the Gazebo Restaurant. Three sisters sang to piano accompaniment-songs reminiscent of the forties and fifties and the Andrews Sisters. We dined on crawfish and red beans for lunch. The restaurant has patrons who attend regularly; the ladies carrying colourful parasols. The jazz group sets off after a number of items dancing along in single file wending its way round the tables joined by the ladies dancing with parasols aloft. Then off they go into the street among the appreciative passing crowds. This is part of their way of life celebrating the joy of music and dance. We took a muffletta to eat after a swim that evening. What a life!
Maude and I had a long discussion with Dennis Hilton the proprietor of the guest- house this morning. He buys old surrounding buildings in the district, does them up and then rents or uses them as guest-houses-on his way to being a rich man we think. He told us more about problems with schooling. He said that it was difficult to find public schools that are satisfactory as a result of the de-segregation laws. The fact is that white people have moved out to private schools without a guarantee of quality. If one sticks with the public sector a child can be placed in a minority grouping with social and developmental problems to contend with. New Orleans and the state of Louisiana at the time of speaking had the highest rate of unemployment in the States-over11%. If one does find a good public elementary school the next problem comes at high school and tertiary level because these use their own private sector schools as their feeder schools with varying lead –ups and prerequisites so then it is nearly impossible to get in anyway.
On our last day we went to the French Quarter for a memorable lunch of fried shrimps and salad. We watched street theatre and received flowers and beads from pretty girls in the “Flower Trail Parade”-a procession of flower decorated buggies and a fire engine. It was a great farewell before our flight to London on the morrow. That night we listened to a talk by a director of a TV network on our radio. He spoke of the importance of quality and integrity among journalists and the tiers of communication in the media, listing radio, TV, newspapers, weeklies, periodicals and reviews and books. He cited other examples such as computer networks and word of mouth and so on. The more educated the person the more tiers of media he employs. There is a need for access to all forms of the media. He warned journalists that they must lift their image and maintain it at a high level. A Rabbi, a Hindu and a Journalist sought a night’s lodging at a farmhouse where there were only two beds. The Rabbi said he would sleep in the barn. Soon there was a knock on the door. The Rabbi said he was sorry but he couldn’t spend the night with a pig. The Hindu changed places with him. Soon there was another knock on the door. The Rabbi said he was sorry but he couldn’t spend the night with a cow. The Journalist changed places with him. Finally there was another knock on the door. There stood the pig and the cow saying they were sorry but they couldn’t spend the night with a journalist.
We changed planes at St. Louis boarding a Boeing747 for the eight-hour trip to London, watching the film Pharlap on the way with some nostalgic memories of home. On arrival at Gatwick Airport it was exciting to view the English country- side as we approached touch down. A fast express train delivered us to Victoria Station where we had our first English pub lunch across the street. The tourist bureau offered accommodation but dearer than we wanted to pay. We tried an agent for a bed-sitter who wanted a fifty-pound booking fee and one hundred-pound deposit. We looked up the Frommer book we carried with us and found a guest house, very basic at fifteen pounds a day. Two single beds, a small heater, a hand basin, a shower and one chair were it. All the other tenants were young students and travellers. We had a good breakfast of a cereal, baked beans on toast and two poached eggs; our table companion was a young Californian lady Ph.D.(19th century French art). Our basement room under a fairly noisy common room along with hammering water pipes was just too basic for us. After searching high and low by walking the streets looking for “Room Vacant” signs we found a bed sitter at Kensington Gardens Square. We now had a double bed, a fridge, cooking facilities and a small black and white TV, but best of all privacy. This was an ideal central position close to Bayswater and Queensway underground stations with good shopping centres on Queensway and Bishop’s Bridge Road. It would now be possible to live within our budget for a long springtime stay. Now settled into our digs, we roamed the streets with confidence, seeing all sorts of characters, even seeing the film “ A Passage to India”. Street sights and sounds fascinated us. We went on a big red bus for a guided tour of London, a great excursion.
On Sunday May the fifth we visited Hyde Park. The Queen Mother had the same idea. The occasion was a commemoration of V.E. Day, forty years previously. We saw her and various bands representing Royal Guards and the Queen’s Hussars. The veterans march past was very colourful with ex service men of the Second World War and veterans of Korea and Vietnam marching past wearing their medals with pride. The majority wore pin striped suits with furled umbrellas tucked under arms, bowler hats on heads and stiff upper lids and all that. Just before the parade commenced two joggers passed in front of us. I commented, “The police let them through.” A senior police officer came over to me and said, “They have a right you know. The Royal Family and the ex service men are only allowed to use the people’s park for their ceremonies if they don’t upset the public use.” We spent an hour or so at the speaker’s corner of Hyde Park where the crowd heckled the many orators. Then we walked from Marble Arch the length of Oxford St. to Tottenham Court Rd. We had now seen Selfridges, Marks and Spencer and other posh shopping places.
On May 6th.bank holiday we visited Madam Tussaud’s wax- work museum. Three Australians were represented, Bob Menzies, Bob Hawke and the irrepressible Dame Edna Everidge in all her glory. After a pub lunch and a visit to the planetarium we spent the afternoon in Regent’s Park with its beautiful blossoms and trees in glorious sunshine. We chatted with a local man and his wife. He was in the submarine service during the war and had only seen the northern shores of Australia through a periscope. His work was in the House of Parliament. He had much praise for Bob Menzies who was a very popular figure in England. Two Swedish ladies sat and spoke to us. They said we must visit Sweden. We saw a historical film called “London Burning” that was realistic with smoke drifting through the theatre at the critical moments.
Reviewing cities visited so far; some were beautiful like Vancouver with Victoria Island, some entertaining such as Las Vegas, some exciting like San Francisco and some unique like New Orleans. Some cities we enjoyed, some we experienced, but London we felt. We responded in our hearts to this wonderful city. “To be in London is to be a Londoner.”
Off to Piccadilly Circus and a visit to the British Travel Information Bureau and the Irish and Scottish Bureaus where a possible itinerary was worked out
1. Inter City Night- Rider train to Edinburgh.
2. Stay in Edinburgh a week leaving room for day trips.
3. Travel to Keswick for a four-day stay.
4. Travel on to Wales.
5. Book a tour of Ireland.
6. Book a flight to Amsterdam leaving on the day of return to London.
The next day a visit to the Tower of London brought home to me our sense of belonging back through the centuries to the development of England as a great nation. To see the royal regalia, the artifacts of the knights and armies back through the ages brought life into what I had so vaguely taken in as a child at school. The cruelty of royalty and the nobility towards each other illustrates the struggle that people have always had to build better lives. To be at the place where history has been enacted from pre Roman occupation times, a place where kings and queens and nobles and commoners were imprisoned and killed, most often as innocents, upholding simple human rights, gives a sense of belonging to this unfolding of history. When we saw the priceless crown jewels we realized that they are really held in trust for all of us to identify with.
On one of our days of rest we found that Maude’s sandals which had withstood many miles of walking were at last unusable:
An Epitaph to Maude’s Sandals.
They served her through the months and years
In every kind of weather,
Till at last midst wails and tears
They gave up altogether.
Balmy Sunday weather found us among crowds of people of every size, colour, language and category that can be thought of. It is said that one’s watch can be stolen at one end of Petticoat Lane and sold back again at the other end. The spivs selling gimmickry are very entertaining. “I’m not ‘ere to cheat chya. I’m ‘ere to treat chya”-was their pitch. Maude mildly crossed swords with a street auctioneer who was teasing a young lady by offering his wares cheaply, withdrawing his offer time after time when she tried to hand over payment. Maude called out “Let her have something. You’re not fair.” Much to the delight of the crowd he turned on her. “Here’s a lady wants to spend my money! You want her to have it cheap! You pay the difference!” His cruelly amusing spiel certainly drew in the crowds as some did get items at low cost but most were hypnotized into paying inflated prices. One amusing fellow would furtively open a box of soaps or perfumes on the road and looking anxiously around, offer them at a never to be repeated price before the police caught up with him. He did a roaring trade with people believing they were buying stolen goods on the cheap. If truth is to be known he had bought the goods legitimately and was not breaking any laws. Spivs know how to exploit human nature.
The following day we walked along Shaftesbury Avenue to the West End where theatres are. We came to Soho and bought some fruit from the “barrer” boys. We didn’t visit any of the naughty peep shows we walked past, much to the disappointment of the urgers who were beckoning passers by. Later, because it was raining, we went to see the film Amadeus that was most enjoyable.
Good weather again and we joined crowds of people from all over the world pressing against the fences to see the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace. Excitement mounted when the gates opened and a convoy of coaches and limousines rolled past and out of sight through an archway. “Were they members of the royal family?” After a fairly long wait we witnessed the impressive famous ceremony and then walked to a nearby restaurant run by the Salvation Army for lunch. In the afternoon we stepped into the past at the British Museum. The Egyptian and ancient civilizations’ exhibits were most impressive.
Next day, after a ploughman’s lunch and Scotch egg at Westminster Pub we roamed around the Abbey, a pride of British History. In the evening we ate a tasty meal at one of the many Indian restaurants near our digs. Then we followed the popular past time of promenading among the crowds doing the same thing, with a kaleidoscope of so many languages to hear and the variety of peoples to see.
Friday May 17th. “Oh to be in England
Now that spring is here.”
After shopping and doing our washing at the local Laundromat we took a leisurely stroll to the Kensington Gardens. We lazed in deck chairs and paid the thirty pence hire fee each when the keeper with his leather purse approached us. After eating our cut lunch we wandered over to Kensington Palace, Prince Charles and Lady Diana’s residence, where we wandered around admiring the gardens. This was a lovely restful day to just enjoy living in London
A luncheon cruise on the Thames took us to Greenwich and back to Westminster. The good meal was supplemented by an informative commentary. Back home we watched the F.A. soccer final at Wembley on TV. For the first time in a FA final a man was sent off and the game proceeded with no score. Eventually in time-on a brilliant goal won the game against Everton. A thrilling game! On Sunday the next day we visited Petticoat Lane again with its London Bobbies keeping a benign eye on the milling crowds. Another day spent just enjoying living in London!
A trip to Bath by train through an enchanting country-side of hedgerows and quiet lanes took us by browsing sheep and cattle in fields interspersed with orchards and crops of yellow rape (used for vegetable oil and margarine). Bath has unique limestone buildings, historical Roman baths and evidence of past and present wealth. Bath is three cities built on top of each other- Roman- Saxon- and Norman. A lot of property, of archeological interest, has been built over. We took a guided bus and walking tour and then walked around main high points on our own.
At Hastings on the sea we saw the interesting and colourful “Hastings Embroidery” that was commissioned in 1966 to celebrate the 900th anniversary of the Battle of Hastings and on which are depicted eighty one great events of British history. Being on the sea- side we had fresh cod and chips for lunch. We roamed through the old town amongst buildings and cottages dating back through centuries. Here was a typical resort by the sea as we had seen depicted in pictures, with nets and fishing boats strewn along the beach and deck chairs laid out in seemingly endless rows for holiday makers. The added bonuses were the historical interest of this area.
No description, films or photos, could ever do St. Paul’s Cathedral justice. Its colourful ambience has to be experienced to be appreciated. It is a haven for people to gather in the surrounding area and seek some peace from the bustle of the city. From there we walked to Covent Garden Market, not the busy place we had expected it to be. That afternoon we attended a live theatre matinee at the Albery. The play “The Seven Year Itch” capped a very good day.
A visit to Windsor and the castle was a must where we saw Queen Mary’s dolls’ house and queen’s apartments. The parks, gardens and castle were a fabulous sight. We caught a bus that took us past the royal mews, royal farms and in a village nearby Nell Gwynne’s house. Passing famous Eton we saw a boy in his uniform of tails hurrying along to some assignment. The lovely river Thames flowed through the beautiful countryside. After a tasty pizza lunch we browsed around Windsor’s streets – a really up-market place. Before leaving we took photos of the changing of the guard.
Monday May 27th was our last day in London. We took a cab to Euston station where we left our luggage, took a long walk to Covent garden to have a pub lunch and then on to Leicester Square. Being a bank holiday we were among crowds out in force. There were characters displaying themselves to be noticed, menacing looking skinheads, buskers playing to theatre queues and all sorts in all. We went to see the film The Killing Fields and found it a moving incredible story of contrasts in man’s spirit, endurance and ability to survive against man’s inhumanity to man. After an excellent Chinese meal we played cards at Euston station in a very comfortable lounge waiting for the 11.30 p.m. Night-Rider to Edinburgh. After a tolerable journey we arrived at 6.30 a.m. and found accommodation by 9.00 a.m. We were very lucky with friendly hosts providing a comfortable room close to the city and parklands around the university. Being travel weary we rested all day, walking out in the evening to wander round the pleasant park and dining on lentil soup and haddock with peas and chips. Next day we caught a local bus around the pleasant outskirts of the city stopping off at Drumbrae South pub for lunch. In the afternoon we strolled at random round the crowded streets of the city and in the evening we watched the Euro Cup soccer final between Liverpool and the Italian team Juventus in Brussels. It was distressing to witness bad scenes of mob violence. Scalpers sold tickets that caused English and Italian fans to occupy the same area. Liverpool supporters invaded Juventus territory with a resulting stampede, caused by angry spectators. A wall collapsed crushing people struggling to escape. Many were trampled, with thirty-eight fans dead and over four hundred badly injured. We had heard about soccer violence but to witness it was terrible. Next morning, after an interesting walk by suburban streets to the city we visited Waverley and St. James shopping centres, the former where locals shop and the latter an ultra modern centre with interesting restaurants, fountains and water gardens. At St. James we lunched at a window commanding a splendid view of surrounding scenery. During the day we booked outings to occupy the rest of our stay.
On Saturday we attended a community day at the Meadow-bank sports and community centre. The complex has a first-class athletics ground, seven gymnasiums, along with numerous meeting rooms and a host of other facilities. Along with family groups we watched majorette and baton twirler displays, five a side indoor soccer, judo, short court tennis and folk dancing as well as other activities. We walked home through the parklands in the evening sunshine, the sun not setting until around 10 p.m. On the new day we set off by bus to Cramond sea front. A short walk took us to the Almond River Falls, a “dander for sair heads and sairer hearts”. “The tattered shawl of foliage weaves a kind of spell that somehow remains timeless, along with its moored boats, crumbling red-stone cliffs and the flaking paint of the ferry tariff sign.” Along the promenade people sunbathed and played their family games of bat and ball. On the way home we walked through a Sunday market and fair in our local parkland. Home with a take away Chinese meal we settled down to a night of TV after having a right guid day.
Next day a bus tour took us through central Scotland passing by Linlithgow Palace built in 1492, the birthplace of Mary Queen of Scots. Then we travelled via Stirling through highland heather and blue bells of Scotland . After lunch in a prestigious shopping centre at Callander we moved on to Lochearhead on Earn. We walked about Loch Katrine and the beautiful country of Trossachs (the country by four lochs). Driving along side Loch Lomond we visited the village of Luss wandering around the quaint cottages unchanged over time. The bus took us through Glasgow on the way home along the M8. The intriguing country of Scotland had really been on show this day.
Next morning Maude succumbed to a cold and decided to stay in bed for the day hoping to be better for a big excursion the following day. With map in hand I took a suggested walking tour of the “New Town”. Edinburgh was quite small in the first half of the 18th. Century with narrow streets huddled close to the skirts of Edinburgh Castle. This had been necessary for protection against attack in earlier times. The site was appallingly overcrowded and serious problems with public health gained it the name of “Auld Reekie”. After an architectural competition in 1766 a new area was built with gracious buildings and wide streets. The new and the old complemented each other; there has been a succession of new towns since then with a heritage of beautiful gardens. The area now called New Town was eighty years in the building and is one of the largest intact Georgian developments in the world. It was most enjoyable to walk through this city of character and charm with beautiful parks and gardens. The route included Rose St., Charlotte Square, St. Mary’s Cathedral, Dean Village, Randolph Crescent and Heriot Row.
Fortunately Maude had recovered after her day of rest, so we travelled north by rail, changing trains at Aberdeen to board the Northern Belle in first class comfort to travel to Glenfiddich distillery. Morning and afternoon tea and lunch were served on the train. The train travelled beside the lovely Loch of Park and then on a branch line from Keith Park to Dufftown. At the distillery we were treated to a to a wee dram and an excellent guided tour including a fine audio-visual film about Scotland generally and the
history of the distillery. We were given a large bottle of whisky on presentation of our Qantas Connections card. A tourist brochure did not exaggerate- “Sit back, relax and be prepared for enchantment at the prospect of a feast of an ever-changing spectacle of colour as splendid fishing rivers coil their way through a gentle patchwork of neat villages and burghs, dry stoned dyked fields and rich green forest.”
On a day of beautiful weather we walked the (Royal Mile) – Edinburgh Castle – the Outlook Tower (camera obscura and holograms) – the Palace of Holyrood House (the Queen’s Edinburgh residence) – Arthur’s Seat and more. This was an enjoyable and relaxed excursion absorbing the historical atmosphere of this fine city.
What a night! We attended “A Scottish Evening ”at the George Hotel with the host Grant Frazer.
___ SUMMARY OF THE MENU ___
Meg Dodd’s Lentil Broth. The original recipe of Meg Dodd -the Mrs. Beeton of the Borders -whose ghost is said to haunt the Cross Keys Hotel, Peebles.
The Chieftain o’ the Puddin-Race, Bashed Neeps, Champit Tatties. “Fair fa’ your honest sonsie face, Great Chieftain o’ the puddin-race…” The haggis dish made famous by Burns; and prepared to perfection by our chef. Complete with turnip and mashed potato, of course.
Roast Sirloin of Beef Balmoral –with Peas and Stovies. A succulent rib roast, augmented by stovies –whose ingredients are finely chopped onion and mashed potato with butter topping.
Scotch Trifle. With a liberal lacing of Scotch whisky.
Coffee, Shortbread. And Edinburgh rock Traditional Scot’s shortbread and a treat for the sweet-tooth.
We enjoyed - a musical introduction with the George Highland Dancers
-“Piping in, address and toast to the Haggis”.
- sing-a-long medley – Just a wee deoch-an-doris – Roamin’ in the gloamin’ – I love a lassie – and The end of the road.
- items with the pipes and accordian music, dances, a special guest appearance of Nessie, the lovable monster from the depths of Loch Ness and a finale of “Auld Lang Syne”.
- a memorable night of Scottish wit and culture.
Nearing the end of our stay we took a coach tour on the Sir Walter Scott Heritage Trail. The lawyer, author, poet built an imposing mansion, a romantic home with beautiful gardens by the Tweed River; with a treasure house of collected memorabilia and gifts from those who admired and rewarded him so much. Travelling through scenic beauty we came to Melrose Abbey (built for the Cistercian Monks in 1136) which we toured around for a half-hour stay. We stopped long enough to take a short walk in Scott’s footsteps and enjoy Sir Walter Scott’s View looking down from Bemersyde Hill over the Eildon Hills. This was a rich experience in the country with a profusion of wild flowers on this day. Of interest was the weather cairn on the hill– to see it in the early morn means it will rain that day- not to see it means it is already raining. We had high tea at Dryburgh Abbey, a jolly good British tradition.
At the lovely botanic gardens we had a nostalgic reminder of home seeing some Australian bottlebrush in flower. On our last day we walked a long way to the museum where we spent a very interesting couple of hours. A train took us to Penrith in Cumbria; from there we travelled to Keswick by the Ribble bus over rolling hills past picture-book farms. Our guesthouse was ideal with fine dinners and breakfasts. The hosts and other guests were companionable. Keswick is a delightful town with narrow winding streets and stone buildings, a neat and clean place. A launch trip round Derwent Water was breathtaking; every where we looked had scenic beauty with surrounding hills many shades of green, trees of varied hues, sail boards and boats and happy hikers. We took a long walk around the water’s edge, through woods and fields, all on special National Trust paths. The number of walkers is so great that provision and maintenance of walkways is essential. The district is a bush walker’s dream; fellow guests have done many of the more rugged walks. Many shops specialize in heavy boots, walking sticks, waterproof jackets and orienteering equipment. At night we attended a parish hall for a slide show on “Lakeland, Past and Present”. It was very colourful, a treasury of scenic walks and tours. The silver coin admission augmented funds to repair the church slate roof. The audience was made up of hiking enthusiasts who knew every fell and crag.
The Mountain Goat bus took us to Glenridding and Patterdale on Ullswater where Wordsworth saw a host of golden daffodils. We took a scenic cruise on the steamer surrounded again by rolling hills and paths busy with bush walkers. Then after walking through parklands and fields we had a country pub light lunch; enjoyed browsing in the villages of Glenridding and Patterdale and saw our first bumblebee as big as my thumb. We had local trout for tea followed by convivial chatter and coffee in the lounge with our friendly hosts and fellow guests. Our hosts offered a menu each night for the following evening dinner; a service much appreciated by all.
Another idyllic day commenced with a trip to Grasmere Village with its quaint shops and pubs. At the perfume shop we sampled a great variety of locally made scents and then tasted the wares at the specialty gingerbread shop. We hiked to Patterdale along footpaths that wound through farms and farmyards; by neat gardens up hillsides and an attractive stone church and school. The paths also took us through woods and beside crystal clear streams. It was an intriguing experience to visit Wordsworth’s Dove Cottage and museum. We admired his garden where he and his friends had sat. The cottage had overlooked Grasmere Lake in his time. Grasmere is the only lake; all the others are waters, Derwentwater, Ullswater, and Windermere among others.
It must be said that we have been given wonderful hospitality on our travels and Dalkeith guesthouse was no exception. The hosts Evelyn and Ian Donald treated us with friendship in comfortable accommodation in a central position; the meals were superb and the company of hosts and guests was much appreciated. Typical of Ian’s kindness was a drive he took us along fascinating, winding steep country lanes, bordered by dry stone walls to Surprise Lookout with a beautiful view overlooking Derwentwater with its yachts, sailboards and hikers in the distance. Nearby was Ashness Bridge, a very photographic scenic spot, from where we walked downhill through rugged country past groups of people rock climbing steep cliffs, then through shaded woods and home along the shores of Derwentwater. Earlier on the same day we wandered around the public gardens of Keswick, then along Cockermouth Road taking a circle route back to town past fields, gardens and neat cottages. It was a tiring day, but one of rich memories to store away in our hearts.
We planned to take a bus trip to Scatoller and walk back but abandoned the idea with the threat of rain. At the bus station we met two Londoners from near Wimbledon who had bought two concession Explorer tickets to Windermere so we decided to throw in our lot with them for the day. The bus trip was beautiful, but we found that their concept of a day’s outing was rather circumscribed, their pleasure being almost exclusively in window-shopping, having tea and cakes (twice), and getting as much mileage out of the excursion bus ticket as possible. It was an instructive and interesting day for us to observe close up how these two typical aged Londoners enjoyed a day’s outing. The villages and towns are ideal for their sort of day. We bought tickets to travel to Llandidno in Wales, to travel via Preston and Manchester on the day after next.
On our last day in Cumbria we caught the Mountain Goat bus to Buttermere along winding roads through open country surrounded by high slopes. We hiked through farms past noisy waterfalls. It was fascinating to see shepherds working their dogs to bring sheep down from up high on the rocky slopes. They used whistled and shouted commands in local dialect quite incomprehensible to us, to control the dogs’ movements. On the walk we met up with Joanne, a student nurse from York, who comes to the Lake Country at every opportunity as an experienced bush walker who loves the district dearly. We also met a retired New Zealand mathematics teacher who comes to England each year to spend some time with his daughter in London and some time bush walking in Cumbria – a very experienced and knowledgeable character. This was a most rewarding last day in beautiful Cumbria.
Changing buses three times we travelled via Preston, Manchester and Liverpool to Llandidno, our Welsh destination. Having left Keswick at a quarter to nine in the morning our arrival time was five thirty in the afternoon, giving us time to stroll along the promenade and out on the pier in the early evening. Barry and Yvonne Cooper looked after us with friendly hospitality in their private hotel called Wedgewood because they were from Stoke on Trent. The building was white edged in Wedgewood blue; topical blue and white pottery decorated the lounge and dining rooms. Llandidno, pronounced thlandidno, was originally sea with sandbanks exposed at low tide. The whole area was reclaimed, unlike other sea side British resorts such as Blackpool and Brighton that just grew and developed. It was planned as a vacation resort from the outset with amusement parks and pier, grand guesthouses and hotels and a broad sea front promenade with every thing geared to providing for vacationers.
The Great Orme cable tram took us to the summit from which we admired seascapes to the west and east. Then we walked down steep slopes back to town. Contingents of police created an air of excitement, being present to safe guard Margaret Thatcher attending a meeting of the Conservative Party of Wales. After strolling round town we returned to the comfort of our friendly hotel.
A pleasant walk took us to Happy Valley on the Great Orme with its refreshing gardens and large lawn. In this area there is a circle of large stones or rocks, where popular outdoor eisteddfods are held. We then walked to the West Shore and generally round town. At night we walked in a drizzle of rain to the Arcadia Theatre where we enjoyed a stage show comedy farce titled “ Move over Mrs. Markham” with a series of intrigues upset by amusing mishaps; a very funny show. There had been quite a concentration of police during the day but now all was quiet again and Mrs. Thatcher had gone home. During the day we saw the statue of the White Rabbit at the West Shore, the vicinity where Lewis Carroll wrote Alice in Wonderland for the amusement of a small girl.
A special bus took us to the ancient Celtic church of St. Tudno on the grassy slopes of the Great Orme overlooking the sea. The small stone church dates back to the eleventh century, but there were two wooden churches prior to that dating back to the sixth century. The service is held outdoors on the slope overlooking the church from Whit Sunday to the end of September. The area is one big cemetery now, closed to further burials. We walked back along the Great Orme Toll road overlooking the rocky coast, passing a number of rock climbers without any envious thoughts of joining them. After lunch we took the popular circular bus tour to the outer boundary of Gwynned along a narrow winding road through fields patterned like chess boards and then past awesome cliff overhangs and rocky outcrops. Below us were highly priced homes built in Dutch, Spanish and other styles – retreats for the very rich. At night we walked the promenade where hundreds of English visitors wearing ties displayed the stiff upper lip and dignified reserve necessary when promenading, sitting listening to the band, or walking the dog. Sunset was after ten p.m. so we went home to bed.
The following night we revisited the Arcadia Theatre for “Showtime ‘85” with Peter Goodright M.C. and comedian, Squire Ronnie Haywood lay back comedian and charming Welsh singer Tammy Jones. It was thoroughly enjoyable entertainment.
Barry and Yvonne Cooper provided us with a cut lunch and a thermos flask of coffee for a full day bus tour. On the way we experienced clear flowing streams, waterfalls, woodlands, wild flowers, wild rhododendrons, narrow country lanes and roads, numerous distinctive villages and imposing wild mountains studded with goats and sheep. We spent two hours at the holiday village of Portmeirion, the fairy tale village beside the rugged cliffs of Cardiff Bay. In glorious sunny weather we wandered the one hundred and seventy five acres of sub tropical gardens criss-crossed with miles of woodland walks. On the way home we visited an open cut slate mine and old working railways, also Bodnant Garden – reputedly one of the world’s finest The bus driver gave an excellent commentary during the day for this really good excursion into the country side of Wales. At night we attended a full Town Hall to hear the Gwalia singers and sampled the glorious singing of one of Wales’ leading male choirs. Items included Never Walk Alone, Sunshine of your smile, Yellow Bird, Nant y Mynydd (Mountain Stream), How Great Thou Art, Kalinka, My Way, Jolson Medley, Gendarmes, If I Were A Rich Man (Solo), When The Chapel Bells Are Ringing, Little Jimmy Brown and a whistling solo. After the show we spent a couple of hours chatting with fellow guests at the hotel who feted us as rare birds from Down Under.
For another view of the Great Orme we took a spectacular trip on the cabin cable lift ending at Happy Valley Gardens where we putted on the mini golf green in the sunshine while listening to an open air morning concert. An afternoon bus ride took us to Llanrwst, Betws Y Coed, Blaenan, the foot of Snowdon, Snowdonia, Llanberis Pass and Swallow Falls. The trip included a visit to the Ffestiniog hydroelectric scheme.
A last day in Wales was enhanced by a local bus trip to the old town of Conwy on the sea. This was a walled town with a castle dating back to the fifteenth century. An entertaining town crier paraded around the marina area calling the interesting features of the place while we ate lunch in the open, overlooking the fishing boats beached at low tide. This was a fitting last experience of our happy stay.
We were on our way to Ireland on a train that ran through flowers and green fields all the way, with glimpses of the sea and small villages. We passed through small whistle stop stations, one with the famous longest name. There was a wait of a few hours in Holyhead, an industrial town and ferry port. Once aboard the ferry it was smooth sailing across to Dun Langhaire (pronounced Dunleery).
A C.I.E. bus took us to the Green Isle, a good hotel just outside Dublin. After a good dinner we sat in the foyer and watched pretty girls in beautiful dresses presenting themselves as debutantes that night in the ballroom. We knew we were in Ireland because life took on a new twist. Three people told us that C.I.E. had informed them that their tour was over booked and would they consider postponing for a week? With the answer no, they were asked if they would go on an alternative tour that would have meant staying at a different place each night. Then they were told they were all booked into one room even though one of them had paid a supplement to be in a single. On arrival in Killarney the room they were given had defective plumbing so they were moved to another that turned out to have the shower curtain missing. “That’s the second one that’s gone missing this week”, said the receptionist. Funny things don’t only happen to other people. When we booked in we were sent, with our key, to the furthest room in the hotel. We unlocked the door and walked in on another couple already settled in, much to our mutual embarrassment. It took quite a while to sort this out with double Irish misunderstandings on the way. Zero hour nine o’clock the next morning arrived for our bus to pick us up. There was no bus so we asked the receptionist to check with C.I.E. Her call was put on hold in a queue. Eventually the bus arrived. “Oh! ‘Tis no fault of mine”, said the driver Paddy Maguire, “T’ey’ve been of tellin’ yu te wrong time, it’s really ten
o’clock we’ll be leavin’ here”. We travelled across Ireland through Naas, Kildare, Portlarise, Roscrea, Nenagh, Limerick, Newcastle West, Abbeyfeale and Tralee to Killarney. Each section of the drive was charming, passing through agricultural towns and villages. Citizens had no problem with parking when shopping, they just abandoned their cars, some right in the driving lane. The bus driver had difficulty getting through in some places and was hemmed in for quite a time at one of our stops. Our fellow passengers were an assortment of English, Scottish and Irish citizens with varied accents. We were told only out of town people were booked for parking illegally; any policeman booking a local would be in a broth of trouble.
Maude and I were talking about the family sending flowers for Nana’s ninety- fourth birthday:
Me: “That’s nice, as the ancient Greeks had a saying ‘Flowers for the living, stones for the dead.’”
Maude (with blank look): “Pardon?”
Me: (Repeated as above.)
Maude: (Blank look). “Pardon? What’s a stode?”
Mal: (Repeated as above.) “You know, stones S-T-O-N-E-S.”
Maude: “Oh – stones! I thought you said stodes, and I was wondering what
stodes are. I’m getting that way trying to understand all the dialects that I can’t even understand you any more.”
Pub bouncers are called crowd control engineers over here. We did get used to shops having “Licensed Bookmaker” signs on their windows in London but we liked the Irish twist better; their signs read “Turf Accountant”.
In the confusion of meeting new people we had told some new acquaintances that we had twelve grand children. They then relayed this information to another member of the group. This person then went up to a lady (thinking she was Maude) and congratulated her heartily on being the grand mother of twelve children. The surprised woman was really confused. “I’m not even married!” she exclaimed. It could only be an Irish tour. At night we played rummy with Agnes and Dennis, two people from near Edinburgh. We finished the night with a good chat.
After settling in happily at our comfortable guest-house we took a morning stroll around the town of Killarney, read the Sunday paper, the Observer, and had a sandwich and coffee for lunch. When we boarded a horse drawn jaunting car; the driver took a fancy to Maude, sitting her up next to him, only finding room to seat me as a reluctant after thought. He spoke in a language we found very difficult to understand, certainly projecting local colour into our excursion through beautiful woodlands to Muckross House, situated in Killarney National Park. “The park is a walkers’ and botanists’ paradise.” We were escorted over the 19th. Century great house by a charming young lady who was very informative about the traditional way of life of the people of Kerry. At afternoon tea an Irish lady told us a lot about the Irish and Gaelic.
A Ring of Kerry bus tour took us through a cross section of this part of Ireland into more remote country with isolated farms and the mild climate of the Iveragh Peninsular warmed by the Gulf Stream. Here exotic plants flourish and wild flowers adorn lush woodlands. We passed the massive rugged and rocky McGillicuddy Mountains, cut and eroded in the Ice Age. We visited sandy coves and bays with scattered picturesque islands. Twisting roads meandered through grand Irish scenery until we skirted the Lakes of Killarney, Upper, Middle and Lower on the way home.
We decided to miss an optional tour of the Dingle Peninsular and to go hiking on our own instead. We walked to Ross Castle and back through the woods and by Killarney Lake side. The last part of the walk was along side a swiftly flowing stream passing through the Knockreer Estate with its park and gardens where we admired an old-world thatched cottage. The eight-mile walk brought us out at St. Mary’s Cathedral. It was a day well spent. It is said that by Killarney’s lakes and fells it never rains but sometimes the air becomes ‘soft’ there.
On a full day tour of the Coast of Kerry we rounded Kerry Head to the seaside resort of Ballybunion, home of the annual bachelor festival where a maid may choose a fella as husband to keep for life. Lulled into a false belief that the sea would be warm because of the Gulf Stream I ventured with some other misguided souls into the water for a swim. It was so cold, I couldn’t even crack hardy, and had to retreat quickly to don clothes and drink hot tea. Back home that night we went to a local singing and dancing pub. Maude and I were blarneyed into leading a circular waltz to celebrate our fortieth wedding anniversary. Then we were made to stand up and sing Waltzing Mathilda, we were definitely not asked to render an encore. A good night was had by all.
So enchanted were we by the local environs we refused another bus tour and went walking again, this time through the park and farmlands of Knockreer Estate admiring the beautiful lakes and nearby mountains. We took some time to look around inside the lovely St. Mary’s Cathedral of Killarney. This day was our last lingering look at this countryside, a true jewel of Ireland.
We left Killarney by coach, travelling across southern Ireland via Mallow and Cashel to Dublin, then by ferry to Holyhead, train to Euston, underground to Green Park where we changed train to Heathrow. The last leg was travel by Boeing 327 to Amsterdam. On the journey we played cards with Harry, Joyce and Anne who insisted on upgrading us to the Pullman Lounge on the ferry. I gave Anne a set of gilded two up pennies as a souvenir. In Amsterdam we booked into the Delta Hotel near Central Bus and Rail Station. At Damrak 42-43 we could not have been in a more central position.
Today was Maude’s birthday, Sunday July 7th. We spent some time exploring and found the tourist information centre. We were extremely lucky – the Fourth Koepelwartier Streetfeest (street party) was on this day, an annual event. The streets we walked to were alive with jazz, dancing, arts and crafts displays, food and drink stalls and people dressed up to enjoy the occasion. Our room was inviting, as we were very tired
Because of the last two days of travel; we were ready for bed and sleep quite early. We decided we liked our room.
We bought ourselves a thermos flask so we could have cups of tea during the day without straining our budget. Breakfasts were liberal so we packed sandwiches with cheese, butter and jam to keep for lunches. We sat down to plan our Dutch itinerary, taking advantage of the Qantas Connections 25% discount:
1. Wednesday Special – Hoorn folk market featuring handmade items from N. W. Holland. In Enkhuisen board a 250-passenger ship for a cruise on Lake Uselmeer. After docking in Medemblik a vintage train chugs passengers to Hoorn and then by bus back to Amsterdam.
2. Eleven-hour bus tour to Antwerp and Brussels. Drive through countryside to historic Antwerp stopping at the market-square near the cathedral. Then proceed to Brussels for an extensive tour including the Royal Palace, the Cathedral, the Grand Place, the famous Manneken Pis and lace making.
3. The Grand Holland Tour by coach – Aalsmeer, The Hague, Rotterdam and Delft, flower culture and auction, the miniature town of Madurodam.
We had dinner at a Mexicaans restaurant, the Dos Santos in Warmresstraat 24. The waitress was from Hampshire in England with a boyfriend from Cairns Australia; we had an interesting chat comparing homelands. We also chatted with an U.S. couple from New Jersey, New York State who visit Europe often. They were impressed with the way we travelled and said they kept away from fellow countrymen as much as possible so they could really sample the places they visited. After dinner we roamed the streets, joining the parade viewing the ladies of the night posing behind large windows. These and the sex shops and shows are almost as prolific as restaurants, answering as basic a human need as hunger for food. During the day we saw spivs performing the three-card trick in crowded streets enticing gullible onlookers to bet on the throw of the cards. The gambling groups quickly evaporated when nit-keepers tic tacked that police were on their way. On the street a young girl begged money from us; she looked very distressed and in trouble. Was she begging from need or was she a professional beggar? We thought the former. It is hard in a foreign country to understand the most likely situation.
A canal ride in a glass-sided boat displayed to us picturesque homes and buildings. At one point on the cruise the arches of five bridges could be seen at one glance. The bridges have a grace and charm appreciated by all visitors that see them. We passed the cat barge with felines basking in luxury on the decks. The barge solves the problem of what to do with stray cats and provides a unique attraction for visitors. Another attraction was a barge decked with cushions and furniture, this was named the hippie home of royalty. After the canal ride we walked on the wharves viewing ships in the vast harbour. Later we found all the information we needed to travel on to Copenhagen. At night we strolled round the streets and had a good spaghetti dinner.
What a day! We boarded the coach bound for the folk market town of Hoorn where we were entertained with folk dancing and an interesting display of clog making. At a demonstration of the manufacture of Gouda cheese we were given a good sample to taste. At Enkhuizen we were taken for a cruise on Lake Uselmeer, then a vintage train took us to Hoorn for return by coach. We had a lot of fun attempting to carry out a conversation with a French couple from Saint Raphael who invited us to contact them when in France with an offer of contacts and hospitality.
To buy rail tickets for Hamburg and Copenhagen we had to first obtain tickets for a queue. We ate our lunch while we were waiting. Our wait was quite interesting; for we met and saw a wide variety of people - a multi lingual Turk with his goatskin water bag – gentlemen in a variety of clerical garbs – tough swashbucklers – sweet young men – and a colourful variety of young travellers of many nations. In the afternoon we walked around the oldest section of the city visiting Rembrandthuis (Rembrandt’s house) on the way with its multitude of the master’s fine etchings. We then visited a big flea market on Waterlooplein that had as fine a collection of bric a brac as you would ever see. Leaving the market we walked crossing over many canals, until suddenly we were in busy streets seething with Amsterdamers intent on late afternoon shopping, the shops being open in the evening. There was a fine orchestral band (no stringed instruments) playing outside the palace. In contrast, across the way on Dam Square, young people were grouped around a West Indian percussion band. Calling into a casino we watched players intent on their form of roulette called Speelclub; the ball travels round a shining metal surface and comes to rest at a number, there is no rotating wheel. In the evening we spent some time on forward planning to assure us of a balanced cash flow for expenses.
Next day we caught a train to Alkmaar, the seven hundred years old city, to see the famous taste testing and weighing. Four teams of athletic looking men from the Cheese Carriers’ Guild competed for the fastest, most faultless timing while handling tons of tender produce. Big crowds were watching the events, with two seven foot tall gentlemen standing right in front of us. Their height was not an exaggeration, so many Dutch people are really tall. However we did see what was going on with a colourful ceremony acted out in a spirit of fun. Winding streets of the town seemed to stretch for- ever with shops and stalls selling exotic foods and tantalizing souvenirs. Many artists were making items for sale on the spot. Spinning wheels were at work, sewing and knitting were taking place and scissors cutting of subjects’ profiles and flower patterns were being produced. Street organists and other musicians entertained and puppeteers charmed children with dancing dolls moving to catchy tunes played on tiny recorders concealed inside them. One marionette was a charming little fellow playing a small model of a piano accordion. Children and babies looked beautiful, many an attractive brown from the sunny days we have been having with perfect weather in the afternoons and evenings. On the train journey we sped past beautiful houses perfectly finished, stretching in neat rows. They all had picture windows adorned with attractive lace curtains; many were decorated with splendid indoor gardens. We commented on this and were told that Dutch people are extremely proud of their homes because they spend so much time indoors in the winter months. The comfort and aesthetic ambience of their homes is of great importance to their life style. This close up ‘scenery’ also compensates for the flat landscape and lack of hilly skylines. Many houses fronted onto canals, with their own boat(s).
A fifteen-minute train ride took us to Haarlem, giving us a glimpse of a particularly attractive row of houseboats that we wished we could inspect more closely. We wandered along narrow cobble stoned streets surrounded by crowds of colourful Dutch people on bikes and on foot intent on their Saturday shopping. Rows of old houses and buildings with assorted gable roofs led us to the Grote Market, the city square surrounded by enormous imposing dark stone medieval structures. The market had a special quality about it set beneath the imposing St. Baro church (the Grote Kerk of the 15th and 16th. centuries). Our friendly waitress at lunch told us that she liked talking to people. She said she didn’t like Amsterdam people because they were too distant and not friendly enough, a common complaint against city dwellers the world over. One woman and her daughter were quite excited to talk to us; she had lived in Templestowe back home but now lived in the Netherlands. We were shown over a pottery workshop by a friendly lady and spent some time in a large store looking at the very fine furniture designed and made there. After a splendid and tiring day we were happy to return home for rest.
We caught a tram to Vondelpark and spent a charmed Sunday morning walking and sitting in this people’s park away from tourists. Dutch people walked, jogged and cycled past in an ever flowing stream of backpackers, churchgoers, shoppers, family groups, young lovers, loners, varied nationalities and so on. One young traveller had slung a hammock up with a sign saying “For sale – for my further travelling”. Around a pretty lake with high jet gun fountains all sizes and shapes of people lay sunbathing in the perfect sunshine. Dogs caroused and plunged into the calm waters scattering the otherwise contented ducks. It was a pleasure to sit on the kiosk terrace and join all these calm people enjoying their weekend day of leisure. As we left the park men were readying the sound shell and stage for an afternoon of music in the park featuring groups from Africa. We came across two excellent street musicians during the day; one playing plaintive haunting music under a bridge and a young Negro singing beautifully without accompaniment in a large covered area next to the Rijkmuseum. It was pleasing that we’d been to Rembrandhuis to see his etchings before seeing his paintings in this museum. We were entranced for three hours along with the crowds of others who flock to this great repository of the art of the Netherlands in the times of the nation’s greatest glory. It was only sheer fatigue that forced us back to the hotel room.
An eleven-hour coach trip enabled us to visit Anrwerp and Brussels. Our courier was most informative, giving an historical account of the development of the bilingual nation of Belgium with its internal differences in customs, attitudes, backgrounds and religions. The industrial and farming groups felt they were propping up the economy of mining and other groups. With all the differences, it all works and what’s more Brussels is the central governing place of the common market. We visited one of the great lace making establishments and purchased some small items. Monsieur Poiret told us the story of Brussels lace, now a rapidly disappearing art, with young people no longer having the time and patience necessary in such labour intensive work Sightseeing in Brussels was a breathtaking experience. We had a good stay in the most impressive square, the Grand Place that we had seen to date, with beautiful golden statues set against the sky atop the highly ornamental and colourful buildings. In Antwerp we lunched near the market-square, a spacious area common in European cities. A statue of an oppressive giant is in the square. He tyrannized all that travelled into the area centuries ago by cutting off a hand and throwing it away if people did not pay tribute from the goods they carried. The boy who slew the giant stands on his fallen body throwing the giant’s hand skywards. It is said that Antwerp gained its name from this encounter.
When we were in the Amsterdam Qantas office to obtain a future ticket from Frankfurt to Rome an Australian lady arrived in a distressed condition. She had arrived at the rail station this morning with two large cases and a handbag. She took one case into the carriage and then returned to the platform for her second. When she reached for it she was repulsed by what she thought was dog excreta smeared on the handle. Seeing some paper beside her she placed her handbag next to her legs and reached for the paper to wipe her hands. In this instant of distress and preoccupation her handbag was stolen. In her confused state she thought she may have left it with the case in the carriage, but this was not so. The staff said this was a common ruse used by criminals at the station; the nasty material used was mustard.
A public bus took us to Volendam, a small fishing village on the former Zuiderzee now the fresh water Ijsselmeer. The inhabitants of this village were still wearing their traditional costumes. It’s a beautiful place with small exquisite houses placed along the dike and behind it. The many boats added to the interesting character of the area. The village was a hive of activity. We had a really good visit.
On the second last day in Holland we went on the Grand Holland coach tour with our first stop at Delft with its famous Delft Blue pottery works. We bought one small piece as a souvenir. The world famous flower market and centre of flower culture at Aalsmeer was amazing in the size of the enterprise. Big auditoriums seat buyers from all over the world that bid for flowers exported world wide including Australia. The bus travelled along a dike bordering a large lake left for water sports in the middle of a polder (reclaimed land which is below sea level). We then descended to a lower level and drove along beside a canal higher than we were. It was strange indeed with boats in view sailing along above us. The canal was at sea level and we of course were well below sea level. We stopped to have a good look at a windmill; once there were thousands. At this time only nine hundred and sixty were left for tourism and historical use. Rotterdam, the biggest port in the world is mainly a modern city, still being rebuilt after severe bombing during the ‘39 –’45 battles. After leaving Rotterdam we lunched in a big department store in The Hague with Paula, an air steward from Thai International Airways. We had an interesting conversation with her as she had travelled extensively world wide, including Australia. After lunch an Australian passenger from Perth was missing; the coach proceeded without him after a short wait. This was strange because we had been telling him how two German people were late and left behind a few days previously in Brussels. After a drive alongside the beautiful beach resort of Scheveningen with thousands of people sunbathing and recreating on the sand we stopped at Madurodam for an hour. Here we admired fine buildings and features of this fascinating country in miniature; a feast for the eyes with miniature rail and road systems. On our last day we had a long walk around the streets and along canals. After a sandwich and thermos tea lunch on the bank of a canal we mixed with the local Amsterdam people in their main street market. We had our evening meal at the Italian restaurant we had enjoyed so much the previous week.
Our train trip took us to Hamburg for a weekend visit on the way to Copenhagen. The flat terrain of the Netherlands slowly changed to undulating fields and woods with prosperous cattle and crop farms increasingly interspersed with industries as we progressed on our way. One thing in common was neatness and order. A German couple who was travelling with us was very friendly and we managed to communicate even without a common language. Upon arrival we went to the station tourist office to pick up a voucher for hotel accommodation and sight seeing tours that we had booked ahead in Amsterdam. The official we spoke to was adamant that there was nothing for us even though we insisted that there should be and could he please try harder. We then went to two more offices without sorting out the problem only to be directed back to the original gentleman after phone calls back and forth. He, of course, had our documents all the time. He did apologize in the end but it seemed to hurt him to do so. After this hour of exasperation we at last found our way to our friendly and comfortable hotel. We had a fine meal in a ‘warehouse’, that is a department store, with a fine view over the AuBenalster Lake. In the evening we visited the Intercontinental Hotel with its Casino where we were soon relieved of our small stake. It was quite an experience to mingle with the obviously well heeled patrons. A stroll home through beautiful gardens eased the blow of our loss. At two o’clock in the early hours I had reason to stumble out of bed and cross the room. My foot encountered a fallen bag on the floor and simultaneously I heard a noise of disturbed bottles and rubbish below our window. “ We’ve been robbed!” I exclaimed loudly, reaching for a table lamp which naturally crashed to the floor. By now Maude was aroused from her deep sleep to find me still floundering about. Finally I found a light switch and after further fumbling succeeded in checking that we still had our possessions. Still half asleep we lay down partly reassured, only to get up a couple more times to check again. We eventually realized it would have been virtually impossible for any one to enter our room and that the bag had just naturally fallen from the chair when I had taken something from it before retiring.
Seasoned travellers that we were we kept two rolls from our breakfast. Supplementing these with a purchase of two apples, two slices of ham and some cheese, we then had a fine lunch, which we consumed with a cup of coffee that entitled us to a table at an outdoor café. A conducted tour of the Rathaus, the city and state hall was very impressive with its tradition and wealth adorning the city. In the afternoon we took a charming ride along the Alster canals. “There is a constantly changing panorama, and you can almost reach out and touch it; beautifully tended villas and parks contrast with wild-growing river banks; there are modern residential areas and gardens.” From the Alster we had a panoramic view of the city’s impressive buildings. We had a happy communication with four local German ladies who were intrigued to learn we were from Australia. Birds abounded followed by their young, swans, ducks and coot. A picturesque practice is for people to secure a small plot of land right on the canals’ edges where they build most attractive cabins and create artistic and varied gardens. Here they potter and rest on their weekends, perhaps including a little fishing. After returning home through sailboats and other water sports we ate at a fine food hall where many stalls provided a choice of international dishes.