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Log of trip from Nicosia, Cyprus to Dover, England.
June 5, 1962 to June 24, 1962
Monday, 4 June, 1962
Left Nicosia, at 7 Homer Street at 3:30 PM. Temperature around 95°. Hot, but uneventful drive to Famagusta. Seeing the last of this barren island where there is so much dirt and dust and so little greenery. Reached Famagusta at 5:15 PM after having stopped for screwdriver and petrol en route. Hotelled at ‘Othello Hotel’ (Shakespeare’s play is set partly in Famagusta and Othello’s Tower may still be seen). Dinner, bed and coffee cost (three persons) £3.10 shillings. Excellent food, but room too hot. Slept little as did other guests apparently.
Tuesday, 5 June. First day at sea.
Arrived at docks at 6:30 AM. Much activity, many boats. Boarded ‘TSS Hermes’ at 7:30 AM. Too late for breakfast. Disappointed in boat, very old but newly renovated. ‘Children’s play space’ is part of the deck quite unguarded, so parents are still ‘on duty’ in spite of expectations to the contrary. Did some washing but difficult to dry in a cabin. There are ironing stewardesses, but one has to pay and tip. Luncheon excellent. Good service in the dining room and plenty to eat. Seasickness started in the afternoon. Retired early in a state of ‘mal de mer’. Other passengers similarly affected. Sea calm. Slept very well.
Wednesday 6 June
Since leaving Famagusta have made friends with naval family. Very pleasant people. Like us, they are driving home, but, unlike us, having all expenses paid. Put in at Rhodes at 10 AM. This is a veritable Mediterranean paradise, complete with musical background, cobbled streets, mellow wisteria covered walls, iron wrought gates and serene gardens. Streets are, compared with Cyprus, clean and tidy, natives take pride in their houses and shops. A notable absence of hostility! Bought souvenirs, not outrageous but quite expensive – currency – Greek drachma. Exquisite filigree work is sold. American cars abound, driving on the right, full of tourists. There is a fine big museum resembling a fort, but time did not permit us a visit, only one and a half hours ashore. Visited a mosque. They are all alike, being full of clocks all telling different times. The carpets are magnificent and soft to the touch of unshod feet. Had feline ‘chat’ with Muslim cat which lived in mosque! Muslims are reputed to like cats as Mohammed was himself a cat lover, and once removed his coat rather than disturb a cat. Barefooted, semi-naked children dive into the sea for drachma, and badger tourists as they walk. Local ice cream – gorgeous. After lunch discovered ship’s pool. Very small but deep. Able to sunbathe after swim but chilly breeze and choppy seas in late afternoon. Passed through Greek Islands – all shapes and sizes. Here and there are buildings on the biggest of them. Again took to bed with ‘mal de mer’. Slept well, despite of very rough water, tidal currents et cetera. Sudden calm once ship leaves the swirling tidal patches. Tomorrow Greece.
Thursday 7 June
Docked at Pyrenias (Athens) at 8 AM. Much cooler. Mistaken for Italian. Athens clean and nice city but saw few nice shops in city centre. Traffic chaos drove us frantic. Traffic lights in triplicate, i.e. 1. Traffic and pedestrians stop at red. 2. traffic remains stopped at red while pedestrians have green go-ahead in separate signal. 3. pedestrians and traffic red . 4. pedestrians red traffic green go-ahead. This all happens in seconds, together with sundry other mad signs and signals simultaneously. Had great difficulty in finding the Acropolis, several cul-de-sacs and backwaters were explored in momentous drive around city. A kindly passer-by gave David a piece of nutty sweet bread. Things like this make a joy of visiting places and influence one’s opinion of the whole. Acropolis has excellent canteen and enormous cakes for sale, which taste as of nectar! Acropolis is commercialised but a great site. The climb up to it is somewhat gruelling but worth it. Touts abound with postcards etcetera but to visit this ancient monument to classical Greece is an unforgettable experience. The air is pure on this high hill and panoramic views across Athens on the outskirts can be seen. An interesting museum is built among the ruins, and contains sculptured figures showing the grace and beauty of line so typical of the ancient Greek masons. One sees the park and trees of the Royal Palace although the building itself is hidden. The Olympic Stadium is clearly visible. Nightmare drive again to find way to Mesalonghi, which did eventually. Past slum area, rather a shock, but all cities have this problem. All people anxious to help, but policeman not much help. The drive from Athens to Mesalonghi is very picturesque. Roadworks at first where it is being widened. Advertisements copious on every building and tree. Saw a stork nesting on a church roof. Driving on the right is still tricky. Two incidents. One with bus (Ian driving), one with three-ton lorry (Flora driving). Both safely avoided (lucky for us!). Lived again to cross Corinth Canal, a deep sheer gorge with ruler-straight thread of seawater joining the coast to coast of the peninsula and avoiding a day’s trip by sea. The idea was first thought of 5000 years ago but done only about 80 years ago. It is a remarkable achievement to engineering and the strength of workmen in the olden days. Slaves used to haul up the ships on pulleys and heave the vessels across the land on rollers. Stopped for refreshment at Corinth, and took a brief detour to ancient Corinth, where there is another Acropolis, and similar ruins. Presumably these were the Corinthians of biblical times, and the link between their new teachings and our own is an interesting feature of a visit. A tourist pavilion (one of few) is built here, very extortionate prices, but beautifully situated with fine views. Everything is a rich dark green, and rivers and seas dark blue contrast. Drivers are the most courteous, and roads fast. The roads are being improved immensely, and flyovers built. Mountain roads encountered near Rion. A great new dam is built near here. Buying petrol is a great experience. Pumps are worked by hand, and an A40 countrymen and its white occupants are a source of great mystery and excitement to the villagers who, men, women and children, crowd around the car, some smiling broadly, others apprehensive. Rion is a remote village on the shores of the Gulf of Corinth, and a car ferry operates day and night. An army camp is there. The ferry goes to Antirron, taking 20 minutes over calm water. Very picturesque. Mountain roads mostly of the way to Messalonghi with fine views and scenic beauty in every direction. Messalonghi (in Epirus area) is a delightful little fishing town, clean and fresh, with the taint of the Cornish village about it. Byron’s arm and heart are buried in the pretty and peaceful graveyard, full of pompous epitaphs and monuments. The site of his house is held in high regard and has a bust of him erected amongst the flowers. The site is difficult to find without a guide, a young lad who possesses a red bicycle capable of great speeds. For a few drachma he will show the way to the museum where Lord Byron has his own room wherein a great statue stands. His letters and first editions, and other personal mementos are exhibited. He is venerated almost as much as an Italian saint in Rome. Great oil paintings adorn the walls, mostly depicting death or glory epics during the gory Greco-Turkish war in which Byron took so passionate a part. The people of this village showed great courage during this war and are revered throughout Greece. There is the “Hotel Xenia” here, a glamorous new building, futuristic and airy – very expensive – £3.15 shillings for dinner, bed and breakfast – but the food did not come up to the standard of the building. There are mosquitoes and other pests to content with. Only two beds in a room (with wireless and telephone and shower!). So, had to sleep with Ian on small bed. Did not sleep well. Very cold.
Friday 8 June
Set out for Igoumenitsa. Glorious views as roads ascend to the mountains. Runs through deep cleft in rocks, very awe-inspiring. Tobacco is grown in this area, and great efforts are being made to reclaim the land from the sea and swamp. It all seems very fertile and the natives hard-working. Wattle huts are plentiful, as are gypsies who beg for ‘cigaretta’. Horses outnumber donkeys. Rivers abound and new bridges and flyovers are being built. A fine new dam is built at Stratos. Passed lakes of exceptional beauty, Lakes Trikhonis and Lysimaklia , still and serene, with gypsies and their horses grazing peacefully near the banks. Hills and verdant meadows roll up the shores. The road, apart from a few hundred yards of road works at Amfilokhia, is very good, and work is almost complete on most of it. This road runs along the cliffs overlooking the Gulf of Arta – beautiful scenery, lake sea and greenery – quite exquisite. The town of Arta is very attractive with its centre being a raised square with trees surrounding it, and on it table and chairs with gay umbrellas, and a dais for music. A tourist hotel is here, and everyone is eager to assist. Waves and smiles are numerous, and a warm and friendly feeling exists – a welcome change from Cyprus. A fine old bridge is at Arta famous in legend and song dating from Byzantine times. Picnic lunch outside Arta on gas cooker. Very slow cooking. Curious natives surrounded us at a safe distance – much cleaner than Cypriots, but very shy. Again, for the sixth time mistaken nationality – score so far 2 Italian, 1 German, 1 French, 2 American. Drove on for many miles and passed over mountains 4000 feet high. Saw and rescued wild tortoise. Policeman told us these abound in high altitudes of Greece. This is some of the finest scenery we have seen. Down to the valley and Ioninia, a bigger town than expected. Full of Greek army. Here is the Cave of Perama – 10 drachma entry fee. Crawling with ‘spivs’ and touts. Very shoddy goods at very high prices! Perama is a very pretty little village and its cave of commercial importance. The cave is very big indeed and the stalactites and stalagmites give it the appearance of a Buddhist temple. These, nature’s own sculptures, have created perfect statues of musical instruments, some of which can be ‘played’ with great effect, mother and child in arms, pagodas, Buddhas, cathedrals, etcetera. The cave is wet and dirty underfoot. During the 1939 - 45 war the Greeks hid away from the Germans in its safe chasm. Judging by its size the whole of Europe could have sheltered with ease within it. The exit is high on a hillside commanding wonderful views of Ioninia. Lakes and islands may be seen, one housing the Palace of Ali Pasha on it. Two mosques may be seen with minarets jutting out of the tall trees. This is, apparently, a hangover from the 19th-century conflict. The rugged desolate Albanian mountains are visible to the north. The drive continues over endless mountain terrain affording views of river and valley 200 feet or more below. These are real mountain roads and cars drop time and again. Rescued one more tortoise. Bought six oranges and 1 kg of cherries in pleasant village in valley (25 drachma). Like many Greek villages, and that of Lapithos in Cyprus, this has a sleepy relaxed Sunday afternoon atmosphere about it. The gentle sunlight falls through the clustered grapes and their tender leaves and the shadows sway and dance on the whitewashed walls of house and stall. Another mountain peak and a steep run down to Igoumenitsa. Motel Xenia easy to find, joins Shell garage. Bed, breakfast and dinner 213 drachma.50. Food, usual continental muck. Charge for ironing shirt 10 drachma. Provided bed for David. Had a good night’s sleep.
Saturday 9 June
Usual trouble at breakfast re-eggs. Raining and cold. Boarded ‘TSS Egnatia’ at 7:15 AM. Only two passengers boarding at Igoumenitsa. Boat new and glamorous, crowded with all nationalities. Conversed over lunch with South African Dutch. Very nice people. They had been to Yugoslavia and said it was very pretty and no red tape. Lunch cost 128 drachma. Again, cooked in and ruined by garnish and oil. Fundamentally a good meal, hors d’oeuvre, ravioli and pie, fruit. Sailed along the coast of Albania. Very mountainous. Sight of one road, or track, which looked very crude. ‘Broady’, sullen, looking country. Spent last of drachma on Italian ice cream. All colours and of peel and Angelica. Put in at Corfu. Pretty island (from the sea) horse cabs on the quayside. Souvenir touts came aboard. Bought a pair of salad servers to 5 drachmae. Docked in Brindisi at 5 PM an impressive looking place from the sea, pretty in parts, ornate houses, typically Italian design, with foliage and palms around them. Great statue of Virgin in memorial building at dockside. Customs again, easy, great flapping by porters, dockers etcetera. We were presented by ‘Agip’ with a parcel containing car duster, mascot, soap and ash tray – all with Agip motives on them. Nice shops in town, traffic usual chaos. Police have whistles. Petrol is bought with coupons which have to be purchased at an office in Brindisi. Found lad eager to help and who insisted on climbing into the car and directing us frantically up and down streets until we found the right place (of course, for a small fee!). Again, taken for Yanks. Found way out of town by following signposts. Road out very monotonous, long and straight, bordered by hedges trees and flowers. Numerous gypsies and trolleys riding on horse and cart which move along very slowly. This, together with the contrast of high-speed Fiats and motorcycles, makes driving very hazardous. Uninteresting houses here and there stand behind pompously ornate gateways. A somewhat ludicrous effect is lent by the erection of enormous gates and grandiose pillars leading to nothing in particular sometimes to a ramshackle shed. This flowery architecture is prevalent all over Italy. Obviously, a psychological aspect, as it is seen again in the uniforms of all manual and other workers, all of whom boast a relevant cap. Rain falling heavily as we reached Monopoli. Campsite hard to locate. Left main road on left fork and drove between orchard lands. Had to speak French to find way to campsite, which turned out to be at Grotto. Site situated at ‘Motel Trully’! This is just about the epitome of miserable places. A dark, forsaken hotel, fire station and trolley house and the fixtures near the site, which is under trees (dripping wet!) on dirty ground. A trolly family are the ’guardians’ and their ‘oast house’ is actually on the site. It lacks washing facilities, at least what there was, were very dirty. Apparently animals frequent the site. Toilets not clean, and that damp, oppresive smell of Italy is everywhere. Possibly a nice site when weather is fine. David and I slept at the new and out-of-place hotel nearby. It is centrally heated (and needs to be). The room had private bathroom, and enough comfort to impress. Rained all night. Breakfast was of roles and jam (how heathen!). The tea was an insult to that delicious beverage, having one teabag pathetically floating in an alien teapot. The colour of this brew was that of champagne. French was again used, and they charge of approximately 35 shillings for bed and breakfast. A grotto is being developed nearby and presumably a tourist trade will be built up.
Sunday, June 10
The breakfast referred to was eaten in a cold room with the cold rain still falling. Helped Ian and the boys break camp. They stayed behind to look at Grotto, but we pressed on to Sorrento. Again, a boring ride, monotonous country and uninteresting square, drab villas. An impression of superstition pervades. Most houses have emblems over the door and shrines are prevalent everywhere. People appear lazy and purposeless, and not friendly. Poverty apparent, as is acceptance of it. Many houses have coloured beads covering the open doorway, barefoot children seen. Crossed mountains in pouring rain. Oppressive atmosphere tightens. Town of Piano Sorrento in the throes of big funeral procession. Very oppressive and crushing. One feels the morbid atmosphere everywhere. Found autostrada at Salerno. Good relaxed run to Naples and Sorrento with nice views. Camping site again hard to locate. It is however situated on a sloping site the other side of Sorrento away from Naples. Views of Capri are seen (for what they are worth!). Sorrento is a big place, ballooning out from a small neck into a large busy town. Exclusive hotels. Disappointed in Bay of Naples. Sorrento tolerably pretty, feature is horse buggies in gay apparel and ornaments. Everything expensive and highly commercialised. After leaving the autostrada the road is very dangerous, climbing and curving as it does along the cliff face. Road work in progress at many points. Playground of the rich, famous beach and other epithets relate to this narrow strip of dirty shingle on which a few gaudy beach huts are erected. A wag (or was it the Sorrento Borough Council?) has planted two plastic palm trees on a rock nearby the beach. This sums it all up, an artificial tawdry and depressing place living on reputation (or renown!) only. Many casinos, exclusive hotels, ribbon the way to Sorrento. As regards the camping site, this is again an overrated feature of this place. The safari one has to endure to find it is not rewarded, as the site is laid out on layers and steps, hills and drags make the necessity of washing, toilet, etcetera an ordeal and tiring process. In common with all sites it has no hot water, and the toilets are cramped, perhaps a contortionist would be at ease but not one such as I! There is a dearth of grass and underfoot is mucky. Weather very cold, adding to miseries already endured. Ironing facilities on old table (10 lire five minutes). Sinks with washboards, deep and clothes washing quite easy. Traffic horns (musical) keep one awake and traffic is a continuous source of noise, outdone only by the constant drinking and shouting of a cook in the kitchen at a hotel nearby. On the credit side however, the views of Vesuvius and Capri, Naples and the Bay were quite interesting, and the site was once a vineyard and is now terraced with bowers of blossom and cascading greenery. We slept little. Lilo punctured – very cold.
Monday 11 June
Rose early, washed and ironed linen. Lunched at cafe under trellis of grapes (and goose pimples!). Charged 2000 lire for spaghetti and ice cream – I had to buy a cardigan (30 shillings) to get warm. After lunch took autostrada to Napoli. Turned off at Castel de Mare for Vesuvius. ‘Spivs’ on hand trying to sell ‘genuine cameo brooches’, and with the story that ‘Vesuvius is shut now’. Road up mountain very poor (but there exists another one for which a toll is payable). Passed through outer suburbs of Naples, great squalor and poverty. Women carry buckets of water from communal taps. Shoeless children run in the gutters where filth lies. Higher up, away from the houses, are panoramic views across the bay and away to the south of Sorrento and the Isle of Capri. What a contrast between the romance popularised in song and story and the fact of the way the native lives in insanitary conditions. A few intrepid enterprising folk live and own cafes on the slopes of the brooding volcano. The last lap to the top is done by funicular chair (200 lira each). Pleasant (but cold) sensation, if somewhat frightening hanging high over the desolate slopes of ash and hard rock, ascending steeply to the huge hole in the centre of this conical hill. After arriving at the station and being freed from the chair, a few steps lead to the path which the fearless may tread, and from which, look down into the sheer, gaping chasm. Smoke idly puffs from black fissures here and there. The whole effect is one of dirty brown and green. The core shifted, at the eruption in 1944, 400 feet, and it dozes now waiting its time to burst into activity again. With relief we set out again the autostrada Pompeii. The route is well signposted and at the end the touts are out in force. They are eager for car park fees and need to be avoided. The official car parks should be used. To explore fully the ruined city takes longer than one afternoon, and the time-pressed visitor see all the outstanding features while there. Firstly, the fine museum. Here may be seen such personal items as bread, egg shells, fish etcetera dug up from the ruined city. The casts of a young woman, boy and the dog are also exhibited in the positions in which they were found when discovered by excavators. Ornaments, idols, jewellery, pictures, household and merchandise things lend that human link which makes Pompeii such an interesting place. Practically all exhibits are in excellent condition. As for the city itself it bears marks of chariot wheels on the same stones as were trodden by the folk in the days of life. A complete house and garden, where statute fountains have been made to play again, seems to await its Roman masters return from his temporary absence, possibly at the Forum. The original walls, paintings and sculptures on walls and ceilings are intact. Watercolours, hand-painted are on sale for 1000 lire – 3000 lire of replicas. As one walks through the symmetrical streets the names of roads and houses, slogans and signs may be seen painted on walls in red ochre, which has stood up to wind and elements for nearly 2000 years. Here and there a chair, a table left in a house, as if the owner were to return at any minute, toga dressed and dignified. Wine shops, butchers, bakers etcetera all clearly discernible. In one house is still stacked away in an upstairs covered great earthenware jars as if awaiting use at some feast. Impressive ruined buildings such as the Palace of Justice and Temple of Apollo stand in desolate splendour. The sacrificial stone statues to Diana and Apollo are intact today as when the gaily clad Romans surged the streets and offered their human sacrifices to the gods. The forum and theatre are enormous, now overlooked by a Regency period church with gorgeously carved angels and cherub adorning it and has a fine appeal of bells. The buses and buildings of modern Pompeii can be seen from the top tier seats of the theatre in contrast with desolate old Pompeii. Vesuvius stands glowering, ugly and menacing in the background, digesting still the carnage and devastation it took nearly 2000 years ago from this once prosperous living city.
Tuesday 18 June
Rode on carazella. Charge 800 lire. Broke camp. Took road to Rome – all roads lead to Rome. Autostrada open at Fromsinone. Road workers wear luminous smocks to show up in traffic. Passed through Casino. Saw famous Abbey of Mont Casino, newly built after the 1000 years old original one was destroyed in the 1939/45 war. Whole town looks newly built. Pleasant place, but sad to think so many lives were taken here. A big war cemetery is here. Difficulty in finding Via Christopher Columbo from ring road. Have to turn left and follow round to where Ostia and Napoli roads meet. Camping site, Pineta di Roma, a very pleasant site in tall pines, with good facilities, even hot showers for 100 lire. Place full of Germans all of whom practice outdoor capers, cold showers etcetera, early morning exercises. Revoltingly healthy.
Wednesday 13 June
Took car to Casel Polucco, a small village outside Rome for hairdo. Got lost several times due to bad signposting also misdirected by police – quite a usual occurrence. Charged only three shillings and sixpence for shampoo and set. Lunched late at the campsite cafe, very slow service and then went to Rome. A lovely city, Coliseum quite easy to find. Very wide streets, no speed limits. Coliseum is as its pictures show, but much added to keep it up. Booked a horse cab for trip to police station to look in at but cabbie wanted 6000 lire so we refused. The cheapest anyone would take us for was 2500 lire. This works out about 25 shillings for a few yards, an obvious tourist trap. Took a walk around the Forum, scene of ‘Son et Lumiere’ performance at night. Turned in early in preparation for early start next day.
Thursday 14 June
Visited Vatican and St Peter’s. Very Roman Catholic (naturally) and commercialised, crowded with tourists. Took photos of colourful Swiss guards. Bought souvenir in Treasury for Roman Catholic friends. St Peter’s is very ornate, full of treasures but lacks the simplicity of faith. Many disagree. Fine works of art. Organ being tuned. Again in the city, had fortune of seeing the prime minster Fanfani, who was laying a wreath on the ‘altar of the nation’. A fine dominating monument – together with gaily coloured dressed guards of honour. Found, after much going around in ever decreasing circles, the Trevi Fountain, near market, a very bohemian area. A lovely site with many cascading falls and statues. People throw silver coins in and wish ‘Three Coins in the Fountains’. In the afternoon drove to catacombs again, commercialised but nice old priest (we believed him to be Swedish or Norwegian) showed us round. This was Catacombs of St. Domitilla and contains the family of the Flavia Domitilla – one of whom built the Coliseum. They later became Christian and so were buried in the catacombs. St Sebastian’s catacomb is just down the road as our very many other catacombs. This is a very big one and was the first burial place of Peter and Paul, but their bodies were moved by Constantine when he took up the Christian faith. Cost of admission is again 100 lire and monks act as guides. They did not seem as friendly as the priests. A really beautiful Roman Catholic church is attached to it where they have relics of St Sebastian, a young martyr who was shot with arrows for his belief. It contains a lovely sensitive statue of him. In a box is the supposed arrow which killed him. Another feature is (so we are told) footprints of Jesus but who can tell? Leaving there we found the Apennine Way quite near to hand. In places one sees the chariot wheel indentation, old tombs (always outside the Roman city, as pompous tombs showed wealth) and watchtowers. The Romans erected great tombs to impress visitors to the city. In contrast the latest things – the Olympic Village and World Trade Centre (Treaty of Rome) are architectural achievements of which present-day Romans may be proud. An unexpected surprise came after tea. Paddy and I decided to go and see ‘Son et Lumiere’. Rome by night is a very colourful site lively and thrilling. The festival seating is laid out three sections of language: English, German and French. The English section was about half full the others practically empty! The spectacle was quite unique. The scene was set in the ruined Forum – where Julius Caesar was murdered. A brief history of the Roman Empire was portrayed in sound and light. Prose and verse reading with effect music and arc lamps told of the Sabines Rape, Nero’s irresponsibility and madness, the horsemen’s gallop with news of Hannibal at the gates, Caesar’s death and ultimately the acceptance of Christianity by the failing empire – which was as our commentator said was ‘its final victory’. This was a fine technical achievement for science and art united to create beauty. After the performance Paddy and I strolled around Rome and had a coffee. Many revellers around the fountain, mingling with tourists. The wonder of Rome, as indeed all Italy, is the musical motor horn.
Friday, June 15
Left Pineta di Roma at about 9:30 AM and took road to Grosetto. The usual uninteresting Italian Road, but Grosetto is quite a big nice place. Passed through Tarquina – ‘LARS Porsena of Clusium’ - can still see the old walls and towers. This road is very winding, and was crowded with heavy lorries. A short hold-up was necessary as dynamiting was taking place at a nearby quarry. Again misdirected to Pisa campsite, when entering outskirts. Came at last to an American camp at Tirreno 5 km from Pisa. This is a very pseudo-American town, with several campsites, soda bars, sidewalks etcetera. The local girls, done up ‘à la Hollywood’ stroll the streets in tight clothes, American bait? Very pleasant drive along seafront and River Anno into Pisa. Fishing nets line the way along the riverbank, draping from bank to bank. Wooden shacks and picturesque piers are dotted amongst these nets and the overhanging trees. Eventually, we found one campsite at Via Andrea. Not very impressive, although possessed grass, our first. Had misfortune to find a frog in the toilet, as duly cut in half by the cleaner in a callous manner. Outside washing facilities, ladies and gents share the same trough. Washing clothes sink very smelly. The site is between a railway goods yard and a smelly factory. Had to report groundsmen with his dirty habit of spitting, met with incivility usual on our travels. During evening had drinks at Paddy’s tent, and occupied ourselves catching glowworms. The place is infested with them and it is an unusual and pretty sight. Charge 430 lire. Rained hard during the night.
Saturday, June 16
Glad to quit the site. Drove into town and saw the famous ‘Torre Pendente’. Pleasant city clean and with the air of an English cathedral city. Daisies and green grass abound in the close and sellers of souvenirs, whose stalls border it, do not pester one to buy their goods. Bought souvenirs. Garage man took us as Cubans, probably because of the ‘CY’ plate. When told of Cyprus, he was completely ignorant of it. However now he knows it is an island in the Mediterranean. Went on to autostrada. charged 1800 lire. This is a wonderful road, including tunnels viaducts etcetera and passes through scenic country. Took the road to Milan. very heavy traffic. Mistook way and had to go to Sorrono. Found autostrada again by turning left, but it is not well signposted. Agip man directed us very well. Toll sixpence (English equivalent). This one is an old autostrada and not nearly up to the standard of the others. As Como is approached, after driving through a chaotic Milan traffic crush, the scenery becomes more hilly and Swiss in nature. The campsite is just on the outskirts of Como. It is a small clean solid place and the site is neat and tidy. David reproved for the picking daisies and running. We are getting near the ‘verbotten’ lands. Toilets and washing facilities clean, but has no hot water or ironing facilities. Earwigs are plentiful. Have not had a good night’s sleep since started camping. Nice, white English couple and an RAF couple who are stationed in France. Beautiful views from the site, lovely sunset over the Italian hills.
Sunday, June 17
Awoke to church bells, left at 11 AM but en route for Chaisos (Swiss Italian border) one catches only a glimpse of Lake Como. Went through Swiss customs without any trouble. Relieved to be out of Italy – one feels a freer atmosphere in Switzerland. Clean and tidy little place. Many buildings flag decked, a big race was taking place. Many athletes could be seen, police directing traffic. Lugano is a place straight out of Edwardian England. Unspoiled by two world wars it remains full of large ornate handsome buildings complete with palms and a conservatory. Obviously, a lot of money circulates! Although it appears a haunt of the elderly it is a happy lively place. Soon mountain terrain is reached, waterfalls and snowcapped peaks line the winding way, which is narrow. Many Tyrolean-type villages are passed through gay with flags. St Gothard is well signposted. The hairpin bends, dreaded by us, were nearly not as bad as expected and nowhere is there any drop or danger. Froodus and Kyrenai Passes are far more nerve wracking. Fine views of peaks are seen as one crosses and rises above the snow line. The snow was lying 7 foot deep on the roadside in June. At Summit, town Aeriol, had excellent spaghetti in a cafe on the veranda. Many Swiss soldiers and men with coloured rosettes were eating and laughing gaily, as if in the cast of a musical comedy. On the descent one crosses the awesome Devils Bridge. A great torrent gushes down the sheer rock’s face crashing and tumbling with terrible force and roar. There is a legend about this spot. Ubiquitous commercialisation is in evidence with an unfortunate arrogance self sufficiency of the race. A monument to 277 men who died while digging the tunnel stands on the summit and even this is commercialised unhappily. Glorious scenery is encountered North of the Alpine barrier, woods, pastures, rivers, waterfalls, typical of the picture books of Switzerland. These pastures are among the richest in the world, providing fine cheese and cream. In a valley the town of Altdorf, of William Tell fame, is situated. The band was playing its ‘umpa umpa’ music in the square to the promenading populace. We enquired the way of passers-by only to be told they came from Gillingham, our Kent plaque intrigued them. The campsite at Brunnen is not very good, so we moved on to Vitznav just outside Luzerne. There are many rules and everything is ‘verboten’. An atmosphere of tension exists. We called it ‘Stalag 3’. It is on sloping ground, long grass with wonderful views of snow-clad peaks and clear lakes. Several funicular railways run near it hundreds of feet above ground level. The cowbells clanged noisily all day and all night and their wearers provide an equally offensive smell. Toilets and hot showers ($.50 was 10 Deutschmarks) are clean. During our night’s stay there we experienced a great mountain storm. Gale force winds lashed at the tent, hailstones pummelled it while continuous thunder and lightning provided the violent background. The little tent stood up well to it but little sleep as possible. Very cold indeed and sleeping at an angle of 45° is a little tiring without much practice. There is a shop, very dear and the staff of the usual superior beings (so they think!)
Monday, June 18
Left Vitznav with no regrets about 10 AM. Entered Luzern, a very pretty city with a bridge all covered in, spanning the view. Here is typical Gothic style architecture. The streets are crowded with people and traffic. Police use remote control lights system. They stand on islands and work a panel of switches which give the traffic lights signals. Out-of-town one has to follow signposts some of which are posted at bad angles. Took the wrong road and had to go back. Stopped at a village, usual cow smells, for petrol. Went to look at the local church (Roman Catholic) plain outside but very colourful inside, masses of flowers. Passed later-on a Methodist Church – only one we have seen in Europe, apart from British bases, of course. Drove on to Basel. Wide clean streets. Pleasant River Rhine running along side busy streets. Many folks fishing and swimming. Signposts easy to follow to France and Germany. Again no trouble at customs. It is strange to pass national boundaries in the middle of a busy shopping thoroughfare. Ian brought more flags and exchanged money, one Deutschmark equals one shilling and 9d. The immediate impact one finds when entering Germany is that of the politeness of the officials. The first good manners since we left a compatriots in Cyprus, apart from odd cases here and there. The general demeanour of foreigners seems very uncouth by and large, especially noticeable in Italy. The German towns scrupulously clean. The people seem to have an obsession for cleaning everything. Interesting scenery. The autobahn here is not as good as the Italian ones, of course, these in Germany are much older and there is no toll. Drove through Freiburg. A red town full of the dreaded trams, wide paved red streets. All Gothic buildings. Pedestrians and cyclists have own way which makes driving easier. Perhaps it is significant that no workers on road, field or buildings, no busy housewife or sweeper even glanced up as the cars rush by - all are bent on the job in hand. Usually a glance at a passing vehicle even a wave has been seen all the way so far. Arrived Rastatt. Very lovely warm day. Site green and clean but too near the railway. Trains every two or three minutes all day and night. David clapped and cheered these wonderful iron machines thundering past. Also on the site was the lido, swimming, dancing, football, children’s playground etcetera. Everyone sunbathing. Hot showers 10 pfennigs (2d) but no clothing wash facilities nor iron. Took little walk around town at night. Very pleasant warm summer evening. Fine solid houses, some war damage remains, but many ultramodern buildings erected. The custom of ‘picking up’ seems prevalent in the town – perhaps they are not used to dark girls! Prices of clothes and food are high, but compasses, microscopes and similar instruments much cheaper than England.
Tuesday, June 19
Rose at 6 AM in effort to get away early – however eventually left at 10 AM. Took autobahn to Koblenz. Much roadwork here. The famous university city of Heidelberg is passed by, although not much can be seen from the autobahn. We got caught several times in hail downpours. Picnicked in woods in ‘layby’. Friendly little squirrel visited us from a safe distance, obviously knows visitors mean crumbs and titbits. Tables and benches are provided for motorists – a good idea but then the Germans are great ones for the outdoor life and every encouragement is given to those who indulge. Unhappily, we passed our first and only accident on the autobahn. Very gory apparently. Lady and gentleman receiving attention. Looked bad. Apparently he took a corner too fast, which was sharper than seemed. Found out that site at Namedy (Andernach) has finished on river Mosel. Decided to go up river to Winningen between Koblenz and Trier. Situated site on island in river. Very picturesque and peaceful but fearful for safety of children in river. Facilities good but no hot water or ironing. It has a miniature golf course and excellent cafe where gorgeous cakes are sold. Winningen is a charming old world town, complete with village pump, murals on walls, gabled houses etcetera. Very German. Shopkeepers all very kind and helpful. Everything deliciously clean. Frankfurters, cakes, steaks and other food all very mouthwatering but expensive. Took laundry into washerie. Spent a pleasant evening looking around island.
Wednesday, June 20
Had hair wash and set in Winningen cost 4 to 5 shillings English equivalent. Immaculate salon. After lunch drove to LOF along riverbank. Saw Rhineland -type castles and terraces of vines. Pretty Gothic villages. Bought sausages and cakes. Expensive. People, as always, polite and friendly. Had drink of Mosel wine at winehouse by river. It is a sweet white wine, not too strong but tending to be sickly. Lost three Deutschmarks.20 (about five shillings). Took photo of mural on house wall, also of wine trellis. Tried to visit little church but found it locked, beleave it to be Roman Catholic. Collected clothing from laundry seven marks (about 12 shillings) very expensive item. In the afternoon David wandered off and was found in the mud by the river, said he was fishing. Glad to be leaving tomorrow fearful for his safety. We played golf again in the evening.
Thursday, June 21
Broke camp. Overcast day. Took autobahn to Monchengladbach . Latter part of trip we had difficulty in finding our way. Met Jesse just outside Rheindhalen. They have a lovely officer’s quarter (Colonel’s) situated in a pleasant area. Felt relieved to be in a house again after canvas. Spent a very happy hour or so cycling with Alan and Landy. She is a real tomboy! Entertained to coffee at friends house, where I met an Austrian lady who had recently returned Cyprus. Also met a highly-strung Belgian Lady who hates Germans.
Friday, June 22
Visited town of Monchengladbach. Nice large town about the size of Maidstone. Excellently stocked but very high-priced shops. Had ice creams in ice cream parlour. Met two English schoolteachers, very boisterous characters, who came in with us. Bought leather wallet for Howard in large stores, on the lines of C&A. Spent the evening at home. The two girls came in late and it was gone 1:30 AM before we went to bed.
Saturday, June 23
Left Jesse’s place. Drove across border into Holland. Saw man wearing clogs. Customs officials friendly and not very inquisitive. Dutch houses have white heavy lace curtains, all starched and scrupulously clean. Crossed Belgian border. Both Holland and Belgium are happy countries with friendly folk. Belgium, although clean, is not interesting scenically, long tree-lined avenues. Stopped for sausages and drink en route for Brussels. Spoke ‘Francais’. My little French has come in useful. Got lost in Brussels. Road to Ostend is very badly signposted. Police seem unable or unwilling to direct. People in the street who we asked spoke English and put us on the right road. Past Royal Palace and World Trade Fair site. Joined autobahn, signposted London. After a long drive on shocking road, full of holes, arrived at Ostend just at sunset. Journey’s end nearly. Boat sailed at 1 AM so slept a few hours in the car and had a meal in buffet at quayside. David refused to sleep in spite of long day. Eventually we fell asleep in pleasant bunk. No seasickness.
Sunday, June 24
All awake early. Surrounded by English people at last. Went upstairs to watch England come into sight. White cliffs are far more majestic than I had imagined. Dover, dear old Dover at last – thank God we have reached UK safely. Here at least we met the warmth and friendly helpfulness of our own people, all smiles – no mad flapping about but calm efficiency. Boy! It’s good to be home.
Postscript
We drove from Dover, after having picked up our AA plates etcetera, to Hurst Green in Sussex. The narrowness and winding of lanes came as a bit of a shock after the motorways of Europe. Kent and Sussex have never looked so beautiful as on this warm clear summer morning. To sum up our trip we would say there’s no place like home. |
