At the end of 1962, a group of about twenty boys from St Andrews College in Grahamstown was taken on a 5½ week tour of Europe. A travel agency called Musgrove and Watson had been promoting three week tours of the European capitals, staying in luxury hotels and barely skimming the surface. Two masters at my school, St Andrews College in Grahamstown, Axel Ohlsson and Graham Dodds, decided that they could put together a longer tour for the same money, using a local travel agent, staying in youth hostels and pensions and seeing a great deal more. The less expensive accommodation was probably a better idea for a group of teenage boys than more elite establishments. The travel agent was an old Andrean, Tom Knowles, who owned the Tom Tits Travel Agency. He was, I believe, a former fighter test pilot who had become a paraplegic as a result of a crash.
This story was written in the Croxley pen carbon book reproduced above and takes the form of a diary. The original pages were sent to my mother with the copies left in the book. So here follow the musings of a boy who was aged 17 years and 3 weeks at the start of the tour. Archaic terminology has generally been left as it was written. Where things were remembered and added at a later time during the tour, I have put them into the correct sequence. I have corrected a few errors of syntax and added a few recollections which were not documented at the time. These are in brackets and printed in italics.
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15th December 1962
The Sabena Boeing 707 took off from Jan Smuts at 6.55 pm. The ascent was very rapid; wonderful view – panorama. I took a photo of the second sunset we saw – the sun was actually not quite setting. The plane is extremely comfortable so far at 7.10pm. The hostesses are very kind and equally good-looking. I saw that Ape (Graham Dodds) was reading “The Grinning Gorilla”. Stewardesses mix jolly good martinis. Supper and service were excellent. It is Ian Stevens’ birthday, so they gave him a cake with a Comet on it and each passenger who wanted it got a piece.
SA time 10 pm. Arrived at local time, 9 pm, in Leopoldville, Congo; temperature 78ºC, humidity ±100%. It was most uncomfortable; we left at 10.35 pm. I bought an ivory stick from a native boy who, at first, charged £4. After much bargaining, I eventually got it for £1. Slept very little during the night. Up above the Equator, the outside temperature was -40ºC. After the tremendously uncomfortable heat of Leopoldville, I suddenly found blankets most comfortable. I noted the constant attention of the air hostesses – a new batch.
16th December
At about 1 am SA time, they brought round wine or beer and sandwiches for everyone who was not asleep. I noticed cigarettes and spirits some time after that. (We were given small complimentary packets of cigarettes, the start of a horrible habit. In those days, smoking was allowed on aircraft and in other public spaces). The chief air hostess seems to be fluent in French, Flemish, English, German and Spanish. At 5.35 am local time, we crossed the Spanish coast and landed at Madrid at 6.50 am, temperature 44ºF. By bus to the Youth Hostel
17th December
By 8 am the sun had not yet risen and it came up at about 9. In the morning, we wandered round Madrid. I bought film for the Minox; 100 exposures for 150 pesetas, about 18/-. We had an elaborate lunch at a Spanish restaurant, followed by a bus tour round Madrid, visited the University, which has 87 000 students, and The Royal Palace, where visiting dignitaries (Royalty, PMs etc.) stay and where the Kings of Spain lived, to the Cathedral, the Plaza de Toros, Fomento de los Artes Españolas – a sort of permanent exhibition of Spanish art, all for sale. I bought a beautifully made and engraved Toledo steel fencing foil for 300 pesetas. Everything in Spain seems dirt cheap.
Then I took a bus ride to see Humphrey Maud at the British Embassy – about a mile for 2 pesetas - taking a note to Ginny from Steve. (Virginia, “Ginny”, was Humphrey Maud’s sister – their father, Sir John Maud was British Ambassador to SA. Our friend Stephen Henn was Sir John‘s Private Secretary. Sir John was subsequently raised to the Peerage as The Right Honourable The Lord Redcliffe-Maud GCB CBE. Benjamin Britten dedicated The Young Person's Guide to the Orchestra to Humphrey and his three sisters). He invited me to his party at 8 pm. Madrid overflows with taxis, 6000 of them. Taxis for the equivalent distance to Humphrey’s flat at Ortega y Gasset 17 cost 17-25 pesetas. Then back to the Youth Hostel Casa de Campos. The water was cold, about 4ºC. Some chaps even showered; talk about courage! I didn’t have enough. I arrived at Humphrey’s party at 8.30; very cosmopolitan – English, American, Argentinean, Spanish, French and one South African. I left to join our party going to night clubs and only just caught them as they were leaving. We went to a small tavern where we met a very rowdy, but quite likeable crowd of Spanish boys and girls and watched Spanish dancing. Then on to Molino Rojo (Moulin Rouge) for Flamenco dancing and cabaret. Then to another night club to watch Spanish and other cabaret dancing, also singing. To bed at 3.45 am.
18th December
I woke up at 10. In the morning, we went to town again. I bought a flick knife, the nicest I’ve ever seen, plain and functional and very solid. I went to say goodbye to Ginny and a friend of Humphrey’s at his flat. A very nice English chap, I wish I could remember his name. I must improve my writing. I went back to the Youth Hostel, had lunch, not very good, and then said goodbye to a Yankee boy I had met while going to meet our group after Humphrey’s party. He’s also staying at the Youth Hostel, touring Europe for about 6 months, working here and there. We caught the coach to the airport and flew by Caravelle to Paris. The flight was quite comfortable, but sitting at the back, just in front of the engines, it was rather noisy. As soon as it begins to leave the ground, you can feel it. It abruptly starts climbing very steeply.
Robbie Bramwell-Jones and I share a room in the Pension. I have the double bed. In the evening we went for a walk up the Champs Elysées, a wonderful sight. The shops are open very late and everything is beautifully lit.
19th December
We had breakfast and then went on a Cityrama tour of Paris. Rue de Rivoli, Place de la Concorde, Tuileries, Louvre, Notre Dame, the Town Hall, Bastille, Sorbonne University, Saint Germain des Pres, Eiffel Tower, Palais de la Chaillot, Arc de Triomphe, Champs Elysées, Grande Elysée Palace, Church of the Madeleine, Montmartre, Sacre Coeur etc. In the afternoon, I went shopping with Rob B-J. I bought pigskin gloves for myself, a Step atomiser for Hilda and a silk handkerchief for David. We had coffee and then took the Metro to our hotel. The food is simple but very good. It’s nice to have warm water and room. It’s a pleasant place.
After supper, we went to town again. After dawdling round a bit, we went to meet our group at the Lido. Les nudes, o la la. You wouldn’t get anything like it in SA. The Government wouldn’t agree to women wandering round on stages with their chests uncovered. But the actresses don’t mind. There are even nude photographs of them in the programme. They seem to like being undressed and even do ballet “dressed” like that; merely the bottom half of a bikini. It all finished at 1.30 am and, even though we all wanted to see the second show, we couldn’t. If you pay with traveller’s cheques in some Paris shops, you get a 20% discount, most useful. It meant that I got David’s handkerchief for nothing! The discount paid for it.
20th December
I slept late and woke up at about 10.30. I went to town and saw the Notre Dame and that area. Not much time for anything else. I only hope that my photos come out. I arrived late for lunch and then departed at 2 pm for Versailles. The weather was miserable and nothing was photogenic. Whatever photos I took won’t be much good, I’m afraid. We arrived back at about 6 pm. At Versailles, it was the only time I’ve been cold so far, and then it was only my ears. I suppose there’s worse to come. After supper, Rob B-J, Roger Porter and I went to a little night club in St Germaine des Pres, a very non-tourist area, recommended to me by a young German I met on the plane from Madrid and who’d lived in Paris for two years. As we arrived early, we went to a pavement café (closed in for the winter) that he’d recommended (If my memory is right it was the very famous Les Deux Magots) and had some very good red wine – a fairly large bottle for 5 new francs. As we still had a lot of time to kill, we had coffee in another café over the road. We then went to look around the area before the Club opened at 10.30. What surprised us was the number of antique shops. In one block there were three selling furniture, one with old books and one selling very old art. There was nothing newer than 500 years and there was even some ancient Christian Byzantine stuff that must be well over 1000 years old.
We then went to the Club. It was possibly a little expensive, but not as costly as the places the other chaps went to. It doesn’t have a floor show, but there is music and dancing and a bar. You need to have a girl with you to really enjoy it, but it’s nice to hear the music and the atmosphere is pleasant. Paris and its people are wonderful and none of us wants to leave just yet; we all want to come back for a fairly long holiday so that we can really appreciate the city and its people.
We really have not had enough time here and it will probably be like that in the other cities, but I shouldn’t think they will be like this place. It’s enchanting.
21st December
We woke up late and went to do some more sightseeing. We saw the Arc de Triomphe in detail and then went up the Champs Elysées to the Place de la Concorde and then to the Madeleine and the Place de L’Opéra. At the latter place we picked up the free bottles of Schiaparelli perfume that were a gift from Cityrama, the company providing our coaches round Paris and district. We found the Parisians to be very friendly people and were surprised at how many of them speak English. People seemed only too ready to help us. We left Paris at 4 pm and arrived at Schipol at 5.50. Everything nicely decorated for Christmas, which the Dutch celebrate 20 days early on St Nicholas’ Day. In the evening, we went around in Amsterdam to see what it was like and then went to bed early.
22nd December
In the morning, we went on a bus tour of Amsterdam, seeing the sights and the Rijksmuseum with the works of people like Rembrandt van Rijn and Frans Hals. After lunch, we went on a canal boat tour by river bus. The temperature outside at 4 pm was -4ºC. At 7 pm it was -15ºC. We bought a few presents and at about 7 pm, we went to dinner at a Chinese restaurant – only we ate Indonesian food. It was quite enjoyable. Instead of providing wine with meals as in Paris and Madrid, in Amsterdam they provided us with two bottles of beer each. Then we went exploring again, looked at the ladies of ill-repute sitting hopefully in their windows and then went for a cup of coffee. (One member of our group, who will not be named here, decided it was time to lose his virginity. The lady whose services he used was sitting in the lounge talking to friends or family. She took him into another room, did the business and he then had to walk, somewhat embarrassed, through the party and back into the street). When the proprietor of the café heard that we were South Africans, he gave us an extra cup each on the house. It is surprising how many people know we are South Africans when we speak Afrikaans. The lady in charge of a souvenir shop spoke Flemish and both times I went in there, we had long conversations.
The city is not as beautiful as Paris, but the people are even more friendly. In the street, many boys go about kicking tins at about 10 pm and we had quite a few friendly football matches with them. We came to bed at 10.45 pm, although our limit was 1 am, as tomorrow we must be up at 6.30 to have breakfast. The plane leaves for England at 8.30 and we’ll arrive about an hour later. I should get to Long Melford well before lunch tomorrow anyway, to taste some of Hilda’s reputedly excellent cooking.
23nd December
We had to get up very early to catch the bus to the airport. It was not very cold, but I suppose that was because we’re getting used to it. You could see the ice on the canals and the windows of the bus were frosted over. We are flying in a Lockheed Electra, a sort of American version of a Viscount, only they say it’s a better plane. It does look different; it is bigger and slightly faster. I also think it’s more comfortable. The breakfast certainly was good here. Our Youth Hostel in Amsterdam was a thousand times better than the one in Madrid. The food was better, the beds more comfortable and there was hot water as well as cold. Also proper WCs, unlike Madrid. We are now just over England, so we should be in London fairly soon. This plane takes off like a firm but gentle bull which pushes you from behind – at least, that’s how it feels, changing from taxi to take-off. You suddenly feel a surge of power and a firm pressure on your back and suddenly you’re up and climbing steeply. It needs a shorter runway than a Dakota.
We’re beginning to go down. “Fasten seat belts” is now sounding. London temperature is -3ºC, but there are no clouds and only a light wind; now to obey the “seat belt lights” order. I think London will be white for Christmas - we’ll see.
When we arrived, London wasn’t white. I caught trains from Earl’s Court to Liverpool Street and then to Colchester, where Hilda was waiting for me, arriving in Long Melford in time for lunch. David came home from church with Mrs Cook, his mother’s cousin and Susan, his second cousin. We worked it out finally that I am Hilda’s cousin once-removed and that David is therefore my second cousin. The house is in the final stages of renovation. We sat around and talked that night and then went to bed (of course!!).
Next day, the 24th, we began to prepare for Christmas; turkey etc. After a late lunch, other guests arrived – three of them, I think they’re Hilda’s cousins. Shelling chestnuts for turkey stuffing (tastes pretty good), being a novelty, was not as unpleasant as it was reputed to be. That night, we again sat round and talked. Mr Hills and David talked mostly about plants, both being keen on North Africa. David lives in Uganda and Mr H having lived in the Sudan.
On Christmas Day, Mr Hills and his wife, her sister, Miss Basset-Smith, David and I went to church. We came back and had an excellent light lunch. As it was a bit colder than usual, we stayed inside in the afternoon. (I remember Hilda’s partner Malcolm Lomas making wonderful champagne cocktails as a pre-dinner apéritif – Champagne and cognac with a dash of Angostura. I was sent to the cellar to fetch something and was hit in the face by something sort of fluffy and a bit odorous. I switched on the light and saw that I’d seen and felt my first brace of pheasants). In the evening, we had a most sumptuous supper, filling ourselves to maximum capacity very easily. Of course, bed was rather late.
26th December
We cleaned up the house a bit and, shortly before lunch, it began to snow. Because they had to go to London, the Hills/Basset-Smith family left before lunch so as to avoid ugly incidents on the road. At about lunch time, Mrs Cook’s youngest daughter Judy, her husband Christopher and their baby Justin came to drinks. Just after they’d left, David‘s friend Keith Mills, a naval officer, and his wife and his mother came to drinks and lunch. After they left, David and I fixed up Mrs Cook’s dart board. By this time, the snow was about 2 inches deep. David is madly keen on coming to SA, where he hasn’t been since he was one year old, 31 years ago! He can’t take leave in ’63 as his long leave extends into that year, but he’d like to come in ’64 to stay with his Dad. I thought that we might go to the Kruger Park or somewhere during my mid-year vac, if he can come. He, needless to say, likes the idea very much as Mr Hodge (snr) will be working. They live out at Birnam. I think you’ll like David very much. He’ll be able to talk lots of gardening to you, being a horticulturalist.
27th December
At about 10 am, David and I left in the Mini for Colchester. The road was a bit slippery because of the snow and there had been a few accidents in the country. David had to get a suit from Moss Bros as he is going to a dance with Sue on New Year’s Eve. (As it happened, they skidded en route to the ball, spent the night in the Mini and ended up getting married, but that’s another story). From Colchester, we caught the train to London, where I said goodbye to him on the Tube. From Kensington High Street station, I trudged up that street in the snow and the slush to the Youth Hostel in Holland Park which, despite being the most modern in Europe, is a very “crummy joint”. Entering the Park, I met the Bramwell-Jones brothers and we walked up to the Hostel, to find an advance guard waiting for us to say that the booking had been cancelled but there was no further news. So we went into town and then returned to wait for further developments. When taxis came, we caught taxis to a hotel in Victoria. As it was not big enough for all of us, the B-Js, myself and four others went to a small boarding house run by a Mrs Bailey, where we are very comfortable. There are some other South African tourists from Benoni staying here too and a French woman.
28th December
We took a bus tour of London and I forgot to take my camera. Anyway, it was so dark that taking photos was almost impossible and the other chaps took very few, if any. In the evening we went to My Fair Lady at Drury Lane. Their Eliza was much better than Diane Todd and their Pickering not so insipid, but their Higgins was not as good as ours and their Alfred P Doolittle not nearly up to John Bascombe’s standard. Their orchestra is much better, as it should be after playing for five years.
Saturday, 29th December
We had a free day and I did a little shopping and then I got hopelessly lost a few times, learning a lot about London in the process. I went to the British Museum. In the evening, we went to The Mousetrap, which was very well done.
Sunday, 30th December
We had another free day and most of us went to Madame Tussaud’s and the Kensington War Museum. We helped four drivers with their cars stuck in the snow. It began early this morning and by 9 am it was nearly a foot deep. Now it’s nearly two feet and it has stopped. The Chamber of Horrors at Madame Tussaud’s is not at all horrific and I didn’t find the exhibition as a whole at all impressive. Many characters, such as Princess Margaret and her spouse are not at all realistic. Tomorrow, we’ll be off to Windsor if the snow is not too horrific. I hope it doesn’t snow tomorrow as we have an 80 mile journey.
Monday, 31st December
was spent travelling round the British countryside. We saw the Vickers Aviation factory at Weybridge and saw the whole process of building a VC10 airliner, the world’s largest with four engines at the very back. It’s a lovely machine, but very expensive. For the wings, they use special “duralumin” panels each costing £1600.They file these into shape with a 70% waste. The waste product is used for pots and pans! There are 80 in each wing. The undercarriage by itself costs £30 000, the whole plane several million. BOAC has ordered 25 of them, Ghana Airways 3. After lunch at Chertsey, we went to Windsor and Eton and then home. In the evening, we saw the pantomime “Puss in Boots”. A very modern version, more or less a skit, with Jimmy Edwards and the pop singer Frankie Vaughan. It was quite enjoyable with a bit thrown in for those of pantomime age. After it, we all sang Auld Lang Syne and God Save the Queen, despite our SA nationality. Then, although some of us went to Trafalgar Square, a few went home to pack and bed. I don’t hold with that messing around at Trafalgar.
Tuesday, 1st January 1963
Early in the morning, we left for the airport. It had snowed the night before (again) and the runways had to be cleared. We left at about 9.55 and arrived at Brussels two hours later at 10.55. Brussels was very cold and iced up. All the snow had turned to ice. The first afternoon was so cold that Rob B-J, Roger Porter (the boy who wheels his baby sister round in a pram) and I went to see Hatari. It was very good – about wildlife collecting in Tanganyika.
Wednesday, 2nd January
We went on a bus tour of Brussels (on which we were all amused by the tour guide who couldn’t pronounce the “th” diphthong and spoke about Napoleon the Turd. At the inevitable stop at a shop, I bought my mother six heavy crystal whisky glasses. I think they cost a Pound each. I still have them) and in the afternoon we went to Waterloo, where we saw the famous panorama of the battle. In the evening, we went to a night club which was much like the Lido in Paris. There was a very good magician who blew smoke rings and got lighted cigarettes out of them and then went round picking peoples’ pockets. He took off Axels’ tie. (Not mentioned in the diary, but well remembered, was a very sexy strip tease act with a very pretty girl, who, when the bra came off, turned out to be a boy)
Thursday, 3rd January
We went to the air terminal knowing that taking off in the morning was impossible and subsequently found that it was also impossible for the rest of the day so, instead of flying to Vienna, we went back to our Brussels hotel. In the late afternoon we went to a flick (the same three of us) and saw The Counterfeit Traitor with William Holden in it. It was very good; World War 2 espionage. That night, we wandered round town for a bit and I bought some mother of pearl cufflinks.
Friday, 4th January
We took off at 9.55 and, as landing at Vienna was impossible, we flew to Munich, which we can now see, covered in snow, from the Caravelle’s window. We are awaiting further developments. We went to the Youth Hostel in Munich, which is not really satisfactory. In the evening, we went to the Hofbrauhaus where we each put away about two litres of beer. We then arrived back at the Youth Hostel at about 11. We were supposed to be back by 10, so the manager was reluctant to let us in. We had to sleep under blankets with no sheets, for our sins.
Saturday, 5th January
Sabena moved us to a very modern and luxurious hotel, the Vier Jahrezeiten, at their expense. We then went on a sightseeing tour of the city. The Musgrove and Watson girls were there and some of them had been visited by some of our chaps, who knew them, the previous evening. I saw Judith Low that evening before we went out. She was most surprised to see me in Munich - in fact to see me at all. So Ford walked round Munich with four girls in tow! Quite fun! Judith’s also going to Wits this year to do a BA. That night we went to a Bavarian evening with typical food, beer, singing, dancing and yodelling, which was very popular and the yodeller had three encores in one appearance. Our rooms were delightful, each with a built in shower so one could get clean for nothing (most unusual), a radio on one of the bedside tables, issuing forth music whenever one wanted it and a telephone connecting with all the other rooms and the front desk. Thank goodness we didn’t have to pay for it.
Sunday, 6th January
We drove in a coach to Seefeld in Austria, where it was beautifully sunny. We didn’t ski the first day, but merely saw what the town was like.
Monday, 7th January
We had our first two lessons of two hours each. We started off doing exercises of a kind, getting used to walking on skis. Then we went to an easy slope and did our exercises on the move. Same thing in the afternoon. Got Mom’s letter at lunch time; gratefully received. That evening I washed clothes, lots of them. Robbie B-J and another chap paid about £1 at the laundry down the road.
Tuesday, 8th January
At breakfast, I received Bill’s letter. His typing is quite good, but I wonder how rapid he is, if he is doing his foot exercises and if he is ludicrously fat again. I’m glad he likes his binoculars.
Again we went skiing and I felt much more sure of myself. Consequently falls were not so frequent. I really like Seefeld. It’s a quiet little town where skiing is the main thing and the only real attraction. Hardly anyone walks around in them. Ski boots on – even when they’re working in shops people wear skiing clothes. Our instructor, Herbert, is a young Viennese university student who has been using his holidays to instruct in skiing in Seefeld for a year now. He has been skiing for ten years. Rather quiet, but a nice chap. Like everyone else, from top to bottom he considers it a bit of a joke, but doesn’t get mad or anything when you fall quite often, as some instructors do. I find that ski boots are very clumsy, cumbersome things to walk in. A pair of them must weigh about 10lbs. They’d do Bills’ feet good, as he’d have difficulty bending them out of shape and the boots would be more likely to bend his feet into shape, but he’d look very funny and make a heck of a noise. The day passed much as usual. Skiing and not much else.
Wednesday, 9th January
Woke up late as usual and then went to the slopes, but didn’t do much practising between the end of the lesson and lunch, but went round taking photographs as the sun had come out and it was quite hot – 0ºC! Our skiing is improving rapidly and we’re practising more complicated moves now.
Thursday, 10th January
We woke up earlier than usual and then went to the slopes. The day passed uneventfully except that Longmore was passed unfit for skiing by a doctor as he’d messed up a ligament in a bad fall. I had a haircut at a very small barber’s shop. It looked rather crude and didn’t offer a perm as others do - mens’ ones - but the old man in it is better than any I’ve had at home. Price 15 Schillings – about 4s 6d Sterling. Went for a walk after supper and then to bed.
Friday, 11th January
Woke up earlier than usual and went to the slopes. Never in my life have I known such cold. My ears nearly froze off. We have now progressed past the nursery slopes and went to a mountain called Gschwandtkopf in the afternoon, skiing two runs. Naturally, I fell more on the second than on the first.
Saturday, 12th January
Again, I woke up fairly late; skiing can be most tiring. We made two runs on Gschwandtkopf in the morning; one from the top and one from the halfway station. After that, we went to a café at the bottom and had coffee with Herbert to thaw ourselves out. The temperature at the top of the mountain was -13ºC and inside it was 30ºC, so you can imagine how quickly we thawed out. 30ºC is the temperature of a warm South African summer day. In the afternoon, we did another two runs from halfway and saw an English boy bust a leg in a fall a few yards behind the last of our party. We ski along in a long line. We then went home – frozen. It has been snowing continuously. In the evening we had Herbert to drinks. Our talk was very interesting.
Sunday, 13th January
After breakfast, we went up to the Rosshütte, a much more difficult slope than Gschwandtkopf. Herbert was horrified when he heard that we were going up and down it. He didn’t think we were quite competent enough. The first time down, I didn’t do so badly, only fell three times, but the second! By that time (the temperature at the top was -25ºC), my clip-on sunglasses and my normal specs were icing up on all four surfaces, so I could see but little, resulting in inability to see the bumps and in frequent falls. I must have fallen about 50 times in 1½ miles. When I reached the bottom, I was white from head to foot. The snow on my hair stuck to the ice on my forehead, so that my hair stuck to my face and I could feel the ice crack when I frowned. Going home, I met Herbert, who laughed when he saw my over-white appearance. It was so cold in the afternoon that I stayed at home. In the evening, we were shown slides of the Seefeld area of the Tirol, mostly in summer - very interesting. There was also some yodelling by a woman who was not very good.
Monday, 14th January
We left Seefeld by bus for Munich at 7 am and, at 11.40 left by plane for Milan, where we arrived at 1 pm. On arrival, we were ushered straight in to our coach to go to Venice. Just before we left, our Sabena hostess gave us a small panettone each, the traditional Milan cake. We then started on the ride to Venice at 1.30 pm. We didn’t even go through Customs at Milan airport. At about a quarter of the way to Venice, we stopped at a roadhouse to spend our lire – they don’t have pennies here – and then continued on our way. The National roads - autostrada – are wonderful things, dual carriageways. The roadhouses are built as bridges over the road, like so
Quite a good idea if you want to save space. We got to Venice at 5.30 pm and, in the evening, we wandered around for bit, looking at the place, starting at St Mark’s Square and then going around looking at prospective traps for the little money we have left. Then to bed (We were staying in the Youth Hostel on the Isola della Giudecca – the Island of the Jews).
Tuesday, 15th January
In the morning, we went on a conducted tour of the city, finishing up at Murano, where the big glass factories are. At Pauly & Co we saw glass being blown. Then we saw the company’s wares. Some people bought a lot for a lot. I bought ashtrays for Steve and Mr Goldberg. I hope they like them. I find buying presents terribly difficult. Mon is the easy one to buy for. For Bill, there is almost no hope. I could find nothing to suit him in England and nothing so far on the Continent. I think he’ll have to wait for Johannesburg, so I can take him to some shops to choose something. Roger Porter is having the same trouble with his 13 year old brother John. (Roger has had a very illustrious career as one of the country’s premier environmentalists. At school, he often captured snakes and brought them into the classroom to show them to everyone. He taught us a lot) In the afternoon we were free, so Roger, Robbie and I went to St Marks, where we played with the pigeons for a bit and were than hooked by a man who recognised us as South Africans and we went to another glass factory where we watched them blow ornamental glass and then we were almost hooked into buying more. I was hooked by a chap who tried very hard to sell me a blue and gold liqueur glass set for about £2, but I already had £5 worth of glass, so I forcibly declined. We went to bed early.
I’ve taken photographs galore with lots of duds as I am often so hurried in taking them that I forget to set the right aperture and shutter speed, but I usually realise as soon as I’ve taken it and repeat the photo. (Note to newer generations – we didn’t have automatic cameras, but did have a separate hand-held light meter to measure the light before setting the reading on the camera. Automatic anything was a dream for the future. I was using an East German Exa II single lens reflex camera).
Wednesday, 16th January
We left by bus from Venice to Florence. We were meant to have lunch at Bologna but, owing to dangerous roads, we had to drive more slowly than we were meant to and had it at Ferrara instead. The lasagne we had was not as good as Carlo’s (Carlo Slongo was the chef at Brenthurst Clinic who often prepared Italian food for my mother’s dinner parties). We then drove through Bologna to Florence, where we arrived at about 5.30 pm, staying at the Pension Alba. The rooms occasionally had baths attached, so that most of us bathed for nothing - most unusual. That evening, Robbie, Roger and I wandered around and saw St John’s Baptistry and the Cathedral on the outside and saw a bit of the rest of the town. Those two buildings impressed us more than any others in Europe and we were struck dumb at first – Florentine Gothic, and very beautiful.
Thursday, 17th January
We went on a sightseeing tour the whole day, returning to the Pension for lunch (Another memory was the very hospitable landlord showing us the best way for foreigners to eat spaghetti, with a spoon and a fork). We saw the Pitti Palace, St John’s Baptistry and the Cathedral and another church and saw a panorama of Florence from a hill above the city where there was a copy of Michelangelo’s David. In the afternoon we saw the Uffizi Gallery, the Medici Chapels and the Church of the Holy Cross which is attached to a Franciscan monastery which owns the Florence Leather School, also attached. We visited it and also spent money – another present for Mom. The work they teach there is well above Bill’s standard. (Really! Expecting a 13 year old to be as good as seasoned craftsmen). In the evening, we prepared for the next day’s journey and went to bed.
Friday, 18th January
At about 9 am, we left for Rome via Assisi, driving through beautiful countryside over the Apennines into the Arno valley. All the way, the country is divided into many small farms, all owned by peasants. They are all terraced and the whole of the country is used – not a square inch is wasted. As the roads were icy and wet, we couldn’t drive fast and only arrived at Assisi, our next destination, at 3 pm. (I remember being very impressed by the bus driver’s ability to negotiate the very narrow medieval streets with his huge coach). We had a very good lunch at the hotel Winston Savoia and, while it was being prepared, we went and saw the monastery and the St Francis Basilica. At 4.30 pm, we left and arrived at Rome at about 8 pm. Axel had received our Matric results from College and everyone has got through except two who got S-IIs which mean that you can pass by rewriting the subject you failed. On the tour we had six first classes and we expect about 20 or more from College, which will be our best ever. I was quite pleased with my result. (I had a second class matric pass. At Wits, when I enrolled, they recognised a second class JMB as a first class national senior certificate. I do remember that we celebrated with bottles of cheap red wine which had red foil tops like milk bottles). After supper, we went on a coach tour of Rome, all the monuments etc being lit up, and then went to two Roman night spots. (Another memory: the coach went down a narrow street and found that the way was blocked by a Fiat 500, illegally parked. We picked it up and carried it round the corner).
Saturday, 19th January
As we were free in the morning, Roger, Robbie and I wandered around for a bit. When we arrived back at the Youth Hostel, not a very nice place, we found that Ape, a financial wizard, had scraped up enough to get us into a hotel. We had all unpacked in preparation for a four day visit to Rome and everything was repacked in about ten minutes. It was pouring with rain – equal to that of Jhb. After getting our things out of the Hostel, we went on a tour of Rome, seeing the Victor Emmanuele II Monument, St Paul’s Basilica, the Olympic Village, the Roman Forum, the Coliseum.
Sunday, 20th January
In the morning, we went on yet another tour of the city, seeing much the same as before, but in more detail. We went to St Peter’s and were blessed by the Pope and looked round the Cathedral, illegally taking photographs. After lunch, we were free until 4 pm, when we went to the Opera to see Samson and Delilah, which was excellent and enjoyed by even the most modern of us. (I do remember being very amused when the very fat tenor who played Samson, I think Mario del Monaco, pushed over the temple with his fat wobbling like a jelly).
Monday, 21st January
At 4.30 am, we were woken up and left at 5 for Naples and Pompeii, arriving at Naples at 9.30, where we had coffee and then set off for Pompeii, where we arrived at about 11. We wandered around the ruins, which are most interesting, for about two hours and then had lunch at a restaurant built into a ruined house, but I still haven’t tasted Italian food as good as Carlo’s. (Another slightly off-colour memory is going to the Gents for a pee and, turning round after I’d finished, I was a bit abashed to see an old woman, dressed all in black, standing very close behind me, with her hand held out for a tip). After lunch we went back via Caserta, where there is a great palace, one of the grandest in Europe, described as “the Versailles of Italy”. We then carried on to Monte Cassino where we visited the War Cemetery. It was the first time the damage Hitler did really struck me. One of the casualties was a Canadian aged 17 – to be killed in a war when you’ve had as little of life as I had, maybe less… We then carried on to Rome, where we arrived at 8 pm, had supper and went to bed.
Tuesday, 22nd January
We had our last day in Rome free and, in the morning, some of us went to the Vatican Museum and the Sistine Chapel with Axel and Ape, then returned to the hotel for lunch. After lunch, Roger, Robbie and I went to the Trevi Fountain, the VE II Memorial, the Forum and the Coliseum and then back to the hotel. At 6.30, we went to a restaurant, where we had a very sumptuous dinner and then drove to the airport where we boarded our Boeing to Johannesburg at 11.25 pm.
Wednesday, 23rd January
After a short night with next to no sleep, owing to a man who read all through the night, so that his light was on all the time, we arrived at Leopoldville at 6am, having had breakfast. We were ushered into the airport building and were given another breakfast many times bigger than the previous one. There is a fantastic number of UN troops around, as might be expected. We then left 1½ hours after we arrived.
And there it ends. Obviously we landed at Jan Smuts Airport (now OR Tambo) and went home to begin the rest of our lives with all the adventures that followed.
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