A JOURNEY INTO THE PAST: MY GRANDMOTHER'S ACCOUNT OF HER 1954 TOUR OF BRITAIN AND EUROPE WITH MY GRANDFATHER.

 

My grandparents at home at Church Point early 1950's

I have been wanting to post my grandparents journey from Australia to Britain by ship and then through Europe by car in 1954.  I was entranced reading it, having only found my grandmother's account of it three years ago.

It is a remarkable look at the time and attitudes and a glimpse of post-war Britain and Europe through my grandmother's eyes.  I transcribed the hand-written diary of the trip and have shared it below, including my notes for clarification.  It is a long document but well worth reading.  After reading it I felt I had spent time with her again.  She died four years after the trip, aged 66 when I was 6, but I remember her well.

Greenie, as we all called my grandmother, hated flying and Pop had business meetings arranged in the UK and Europe and took his wife on a 9-week cruise to get there.  My grandfather had lost an arm during the first World War and had ordered a custom-made Ford Zephyr that he could drive, to be picked up in England and which they drove around the UK and Europe and brought back to Australia by ship.

MY INITIAL NOTES:

Greenie (Lillian Minnie) and Pop (Edwin Albert) Greenwood’s tour of Europe 1954 transcribed from Greenie’s hand-written diary by Kim Dessaix, their maternal granddaughter in 2020.  Pop and Greenie had two children – Ron and Beverley.  Ron married Margaret Taylor and had two children, Malcolm and Debbie.  Beverley married William Norman Prior and had one child, a daughter, Kim (Frances Kim Prior), who transcribed this diary in 2020, sixty-six years after it was written.

I have only one photo of Greenie and Pop’s British section of their journey and have inserted ones from the Internet of historic places they visited there, however, Pop purchased a camera in Europe and took many photos there, only some of which I have included.

I have researched the SS Ceramic, on which Greenie said they sailed to England.  The first SS Ceramic was sunk by a German torpedo in 1942 many years earlier.  A second SS Ceramic, a refrigerated cargo steamship, was built in England in 1948.  This type of ship also took passengers, and this must be the ship on which they sailed.

I have attempted to transcribe the diary as Greenie wrote it with exceptions.  Instead of writing “It’s” she would write “Tis” and there are also some abbreviations I have expanded.  I have added some punctuation and paragraphs.  The diary is sometimes in note form but cohesive enough.  I have placed ‘(?)’s in place of words I can’t decipher and ‘(?)’ directly after words of which I am not certain.

There are some comments that readers will consider racist but I am transcribing exactly what was written without judgement.  At one stage she mentions darkies and another, negroes.  This was as she wrote it.  Suffice to say Greenie had a kind heart, as you will be able to tell from reading, and her attitudes did not amount to meanness.  I have come from a family, of which she is an integral part, that is not at all racist.  These were terms used by some in those times and, in her case, not with malice.

THE DIARY BEGINS:

To anyone interested.

Our trip to England, Scotland and Continent by Ship and Zephyr car.

To these only would we return again:

-        England

-        Ayrshire

-        Switzerland

-        Perhaps Germany

-        Holland

We did not visit Vienna, Austria, capital of Germany or Denmark, Sweden, Norway.

I had too little time at night as weary and footsore through sightseeing.  Oh and so much to see.

Composition and spelling very incorrect in this diary.

(Signed) Lily G.

SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA.

We leave Sydney, Australia 13/3/54 and return 15/10/54.  Reach Plymouth, England 14/5/54 just ahead of the Queen from Australia. (My note: the Queen had visited Australia beginning on February 3, 1954 for two months.)

S.S. Ceramic.   A very nice cabin, No. 30, and a very nice steward.  Firstly we sat at Chief Engineer’s table, who is very, or was, strict regarding arriving punctually to meals, later I might add, was quite often 20 minutes late himself.  He joined a before dinner drinking party and I feel sure he was not in the habit of doing so.  Our table of seven, 2 couples and Chief and a rather fussy old gentleman and spinster lady of 47 or thereabouts.  She really knew everything.  No one could trip her up on any subject.  It was most annoying.  She monopolised the Chief all the way and, I believe, later.  We were very disappointed in the Chief.   Captain and Mrs. Ireland were alright at first.  We found the Captain Ireland always a dear and courteous gentleman but unfortunately Mrs I. was a social climber and it was so obvious.

 

As Sir Ronald and Lady Cross boarded the ship at Tasmania with their two daughters, the latter were only bound for Melbourne and played the piano expertly, the elder one, 15 years having played with the Symphony Orchestra, our Mrs I. ran round ship all the afternoon trying to present a bunch of dark red roses to Lady Cross.  Nice thought of course, but they ended up on our dining table.

(My note: Sir Ronald Cross was made Governor of Tasmania in 1951.  He was a member of the British House of Commons and, earlier, had been British High Commissioner to Australia.)

We mostly disliked the Sir and Lady at first, but I did not realize that, not only was she very tired after the Queen’s visit, but had a much greater problem on her mind, this told me by Sophie in Tasmania and so, of course, no wonder she wished to remain aloof.  Later she was rather wonderful.  She led the Conga through galley on party night.

We liked most of the passengers, some, but only a few, drank too much and became a little tiresome but the rest of the crowd were very nice especially passengers bound for South Africa.  The trouble with some of the passengers was the boredom for them, nine weeks too long especially towards end of journey, but I loved it and wished it longer and having even to go through the tropics.  The Governor looked just anybody and hot and miserable and his shirt out of his trousers.  I could not sleep at night as the nights were worst so I crawled out and curled up on a deck chair on deck to watch the dawn coming.

Since we were in very quiet waters, one cannot imagine the stillness of everything, not even a bird about.  We met up with the awesome fog here and horn blowing every sixty seconds for five hours and again for four hours.  The swimming pool was only in operation for about four days, as weather became too cold again, but during the dreadful heat it looked wonderful.  Pop did not go in and very few of the women went into it.  Mornings for passengers and afternoons up till four o’clock and then the engineers, then passengers until dinner time and at night when dark, about 9 o’clock and no lights, the crew sneaked in, in the nude.

Food very poor, although a long menu.  Pork, lamb, veal and poultry under cooked.  English fish, awful puddings, heavy jellies etc. sloppy.  Most of the passengers seem to go right through the menu.  One night for pictures (cinema), one night for dancing, one night for housie, one night horse racing and Sunday night classical music to which no one listened as reception awful and loud.  On the whole happy atmosphere where one passenger as important as the other and no rules or regulations to speak of.

Chief steward also purser is a very charming person and very helpful had a tough job as second steward became so ill at Melbourne he was compelled to go to bed and was not expected to reach Capetown and, when we did arrive, he was put into hospital.  We left a greaser at Tasmania as he fell in bath and hurt his back and so he had to stay in hospital at Tasmania for two months and in plaster.

Sophie and husband very kind and took us out to orchard and supplied us with fruit but we had too much on ship and then at Melbourne a beautiful supply was sent on ship to us of nuts, figs, pineapple and plums and every kind of fruit, including grape fruit.  We had to give most of it to steward and it was an immense parcel.  Of course I do not eat fruit on board ship, ‘too acid’ for sea sickness.  Pop was ill in Tasmania with ‘flu, caught it from hairdresser, then gave it to me.

We played deck golf, a very absorbing game and skill needed, and a good flow of bad language.  The very nice Brigadier on the ship would not play at first as he used to let fly some choice words but he managed to control his words later and laughed at himself.  He and his wife were dears and both so handsome.  Sometimes I feel so sorry that I will not meet some of the very nice people again especially those who were so kind to me when I was ill.  The South African chap who bought me flowers etc.

A few nights before leaving ship there was a mock trial held and Miss Pile (Jose and Pris know of her) was the prisoner and she played the part so well.  All the officers came up on sports deck and I had them at my back and I thought they would push my deck chair over they were convulsed.  She came into court, policemen either side of her, and she was dressed in hessian to the knees only and arrows painted on the rough hessian and a balloon tied to each bare foot, representing ball and chains, but she was excellent and so were the council and judge. The next evening Captain’s farewell party and he was such a nice host and Sir Ronald Cross proposed a toast to him and did it splendidly and the Captain came up to reply like a big dear.  Our free night, community singing proposed by Miss Pile and other few girls very successful and happy and Lady Cross sang as loudly as any from Jingle Bells to Waltzing Matilda.

7/6/1954

CAPETOWN, SOUTH AFRICA.

9 coloured people to 2 white at this time I hear.  We go ashore at Capetown, very modern, very hot and too many coloured people, Indians becoming a menace.  There were also Afrikaners, Negroes.   Some women carrying babies on their backs, Muslim women and garishly dressed natives.  Post Office the finest in the world I hear and believe.  Shops large and modern as most of the buildings are.  Native quarter very small single fronted cottages right on foot path and washing hanging in the street.  Table Mountain most impressive and seems to change colour on top at sunset.

14/6/1954

PLYMOUTH, ENGLAND.

We arrive at Plymouth and stand about waiting for two cars to be lifted off and put on tender and finally we board tender and across water to Customs and another long wait but accompanied by our T (?) and Meadows man who took charge of us on SS Ceramic.  Passengers now all go their different ways.  Most of them to boat train, a six hour journey to London.  We get our new Zephyr car and after lunch we take her out for trial, the trial of course being finding our way round and going the right way round in a one way street.  What I shall never forget is my first glimpse of the poor battered town of Plymouth.  One cannot imagine it, it looked terrible and one immediately thinks of the casualties.  These English must have been brave and so cheerful.  Seven nights in succession had been spent in shelters during that awful time.

One man told us that while he was doing Home Guard work, a doodle bug came over and he had about 200 odd people in his shelter and suddenly someone said “Rat!” and in spite of the blitz going on the shelter was empty in two minutes.  200 human beings, one rat and a hellish blitz!

Stayed at Plymouth Hoe at Grand Hotel.  Plymouth Hoe is a wonderful sight and something to remember.

(My note from Wikipedia: Plymouth Hoe, referred to locally as the Hoe, is a large south-facing open public space in the English coastal city of Plymouth. ... The name derives from the Anglo-Saxon word Hoe, a sloping ridge shaped like an inverted foot and heel.)

Next night at Bath, just in time to get into Roman Baths, most refreshing especially hot spring if true and how lovely they must have been.  Bath an immense place and I think very lovely but traffic frightful.

Pop and Greenie, Brighton, UK

(My note: one of only two photos taken in UK.  I can’t find a reference to Brighton in the diary, however, Greenie has written “Brighton, England”, on the back of this photo and “Frightfully windy”.  Brighton is to the east of Plymouth as is Bath, but further east and south of Bath.  I am placing the photo here as Greenie and Pop may have gone to Brighton before heading north to Knutsford or they may have visited it on the way back from Scotland, however, I can’t be certain.)

The journey from Plymouth to Bath and thence to Knutsford very lovely to see all the land so well cultivated and criss-crossed  by these old, but very sound, stone hedges and this you can see for miles round you, no waste land hardly to speak of and lilac all pink and deep red and blue bells everywhere.

KNUTSFORD.

(My note: they stay 3 weeks in Knutsford.)

I read of Mrs. (My note: Elizabeth) Gatskill’s fame, her book of Mary Barton, and friend of Charlotte Bronte, and the former, put Knutsford on the map so to speak, and so all locals very proud of her, by all accounts she was a strong character and I have seen her death mask, very strong face.

Knutsford a very nice friendly town.  All shopkeepers very courteous and friendly and just as nice if you give them no end of trouble and then leave without purchasing anything.  Such nice frocks and materials and shoes and books but such funny little shops, as though trying to efface themselves.  Streets just about as wide as Rowe Street, Sydney but fortunately one way traffic.  Steps of houses, and steep also, come right onto road, so imagine the scram I make and only when, so it seems to me, all the London traffic passes.

Dogs.  I have never seen so many dogs.  Little mothers with perhaps two children in pram and a dog on lead but the only black spot in this village was that the dogs were so dirty on footpaths and over milk bottles which were not collected until nearly midday and they had cardboard tops.  It really was revolting and such a variety of dogs.  How odd!

We go to Tatton Hall owned by Lord Egerton (My note: Greenie spells it Edgerton but I have corrected) a very wealthy bachelor but eighty.  He himself took us through with others and sat down to tea with us also.  There were three afternoon tea tables, our table seating twenty four people and Pop and I accidentally at head of table.  His home and grounds lovely but pictures, books and furniture wonderful.  Three grand pianos, a huge movie camera and a large organ, all this with his hundreds of kills, moose head etc. and elephants.  He was a big game hunter and in this huge room, the size of large Town Hall of Mosman (NSW), are all walls covered with his kills.  He is very good regards charity but now bitter and self-centered, but seems to prefer the working class to the “Nobbs”.

It seems, when young, he fell in love with a wealthy farmer’s daughter and his people would not have it and so sent him to Africa for three years, but what made him bitter was the fact that his and her letters were intercepted and neither heard again until 3 years and by the time he returned, she had thought he had no longer wanted her and she had married and from then on he hated his parents and all women and girls and left home.  I was told this in confidence and only a South African knows this, so I hear, so he just wandered all over the world and cared not one whit for his lovely home which he later inherited.  When he dies, it goes to some far distant relative whom the Trustees have just found.  Lord Egerton owned the Town Hall and sold this whilst we were there and many other buildings including hotels and only charged his tenants about 3/9 per week and his farm tenants paid nothing.  He had a row with Knutsford Council and took Town Hall away and made it into a youth club, boys, no girls or women use it.

I enjoyed my stay in Knutsford and on leaving went to say goodbye to Lord Egerton’s lodge keeper, Mrs. Bailey, and she invited me in and I wondered where I would sit as a cat asleep on three chairs.  As she had been at the lodge 45 years and never been through Tatton Hall, Lord Edgerton’s home, she made me describe it all.

The “Ye Angel Hotel” where we stayed has a very lovely ball room.  A lot of weddings held here.  I drank quite a lot of beer and find I do not like it very much.  We had Danish beer on ship, it was very nice.  Our bedroom was over the bar and consequently the noise was terrific especially which included a couple of yapping dogs, the bar, I mean voices arguing and we could actually hear what they were saying but after 10.30pm they were put out and it seemed as though the world had stopped and all sound.  Still it did not irritate us.  Goodbye Knutsford (and our waiter Ronnie Drinkwater, one of ten children).

We make for Windermere.  Of course we arrive at Whitsunday (or whatever it’s called) weekend and Saturday afternoon and here shops open all day and holiday crowd.  Children, dogs, cars of every description and narrow streets and all cross roads and Pop and I feel caught in a huge web so after a short and very hurried look round we literally fled, but the lakes are very much like our Pittwater only the hills surrounding them are higher and the whole is much larger, but not anything like the peace of our Pittwater.  En route to Troon (My note: Scotland) after rushing from Windermere, we had a look for a bed and, as the inns and houses are not so clean and well catered for as the English places, we were very dubious, but found a likely house, very peaceful and clean and, believe it or not, no electricity, only candles but as twilight so long we were in bed by 10pm and daylight to spare.

Just nine people in this place run by Miss Horton and all so nice.  We made plenty of noise at our two meals and all waved goodbye.  Next stop Troon.  First two days very quiet and wet as this hotel is practically on beach and oh what a dirty beach, black sand, so it appears but really covered with cinders from where they come no one here can say.  But last Sunday all and sundry, people and children, were in front and along beach and bathing and so cold we thought and again, dogs and dogs.  They are even accepted in hotels.  We have already had 2 in sunroom and upstairs lounge the large Airedale goes up to his owner’s room.  He sat (the dog I mean) beside us in lounge whilst we were having our afternoon tea and washed himself all over and took such a time that even his owner couldn’t put up with it any longer.

I went into Galston with Pop last Thursday to mills and enjoyed myself very much indeed.  Was very fascinated by machinery and workers.  Friday another mill owner and his sweet little wife took me to look over Culzean Castle, very lovely, very well preserved and first Earl was believed to have thrown his unwanted wives over his battlement into sea.  The first room (of interest to men only) was covered with every kind of sword, guns, pistols and every other murderous weapon, but all arranged on walls so beautifully as to form a sunrise or some other effect.  Carpets and curtains 200 years old and look it of course.

Paintings of the family very lovely (Van Dyck, Kneler(?) and Renoir) and furniture of course splendid.  The stables looked as impressive as the castle itself.  The council has presented General Eisenhower with the top suite, third floor and, of course, being and American he wants a lift put in for him (so would I) but authorities will not do so saying it would spoil the lovely staircase, which is certainly lovely, being a wide spiral type, but of course it could have a lift on an outside wall and camouflaged it and the country now collect thousands of pounds, so we hear, from visitors lots(?) Americans.  The general is permitted to allow any of his special friends to use this suite when in Scotland.  It would be quite OK if they only came back to it to (?) sleep.

Culzean Castle (Internet photo)

Then we went on to the Abbey ruins.  Crossraguel Abbey, Scotland.  I found these more interesting as they were built by the naughty old monks and it must have been magnificent when built, even a very good sanitary system which an eternal spring made possible but the way it was built was amazing and so clever.  Dovecote, solitary confinement cell, guest rooms, choir chapel with a sound system which made the singing heard from all over Abbey and several different chapels, but of course, this is all largely ruin now but with any kind of imagination at all one can picture its original glory.  The monks had somewhere to bathe by again utilizing another spring.  Later the baddies (one of the Earl’s and his soldiers – he owned it too and was an Abbot) wrecked the place and gradually the stones were taken by surrounding farmers to build their houses and fences with and so the ruin only left now but it is so very interesting.

Crossraguel Abbey (Internet photo)

We have two Canadians staying here.  Young with beautiful girl of 2 years, but she is so lively that the father (who is so very handsome and charming) takes over the child and manages her entirely but he adores her and she him.  The little mother is sweet and we like her very much also but so sorry for her as she gets so tired but I believe Science can put a plastic tube in her heart to make up for injured valve.  We took (or rather we drove them and they took us, as we do get lost here) to a beautiful hotel in Turnbury.  I have never seen anything like it.  I could imagine this on American continent but not here.   It is modern and built on the most sumptuous scale.  It has a very elaborate swimming pool indoors, but because of crowd using it, it has to have chlorine in it and it affects the eyes.  This hotel is rather elevated having some 60 steps well graded I should say with landing between each ten steps.  Tennis players must use these steps, but we drove along a red gravel drive and then up right round to back of hotel to beautiful brick courtyard.  Cars are out of sight and hotel remains without any cars blocking any view.  These Canadians took us there to afternoon tea, but as usual, it was terrible and they told us it would be.  Good hotels, poor food.

Turnbury Hotel, now Trump Turnbury (Internet photo)

Pop would eat the strawberry tarts and of course had a bad attack of indigestion and I would not let him go to sleep at night, until he had finished with these awful deep seated burps.  I also gave him brandy.  When he had his heart attack years ago it started with awful burps and I was quite worried, but he is OK and when we are out I feel sure the friends we are with think I am very hard on him but poor old Pop cannot resist.  He even pleads with me to stop him eating anything that does not suit him.  I could shake him.  So we have seen Turnbury Hotel.  Turnbury is somewhere near Girvan towards Prestwick.  Somewhere near Turnbury we drove along road called Electric Hill.  Looks like steep hill but is quite flat – car ran (up) in neutral.

That was Monday 14/6/1954, my mistake, it was Saturday 12/6/1954.  Sunday we just loafed, driving round and round all the different ‘round-a-bouts’ and is very tiring.  Monday Pop and I drove to Glasgow or, as it is pronounced ‘Glaazgo’, to one of the manufacturer’s house and had morning tea with his very energetic but charming wife and then we drove to a large shop and I bought Marg’s twin set for £11-0-3 and it has to be sent to ship.  Now £21-0-0.  Didn’t get a chance to look round but may go in another day alone (but I don’t).  We then rushed to a place called Drymen to an hotel called The Buchanan Arms and the proprietor was in his kilts.  He looked so nice, just the size of Ron.  This place has a garden across the road to which all visitors and residents of hotel go for a walk and at the top of slight incline we come upon a grand view of Loch Lomond.  It was marvellous (?) Ben Lomond.

We then drove on to Trossachs and this also very grand with the different loch’s round the places we passed.  Beside the road we pass darling wee lambs with black faces and black shoes and stockings.  I would have loved to have brought two of them home for Kim and Malcolm.  These lambs with their very dirty and shaggy mothers lie on roadside and one has to swerve past them.  They are quite used to traffic and are not afraid as ours are.  I also saw Highland cattle.  They are so ugly because of their long straggling hairy coat.

Pop is trying to speak Scotch but cannot any more than I can manage it beyond a wee bit of ‘purridge’ or ‘Och I’ (aye).  So contagious is the accent that when the waiter comes to me and asks if I wanted a “wee bit of porridge” I find myself saying “I (ay) joost a wee bit.”  Believe me, we are getting some laughs.  One day I read an article in paper about a visitor to these parts, or rather England.  Most people have to ask the way to some place and in the paper the driver was trying to get the directions to Buxton, so he asked a man how to get there.  Reply – “Wha yer wunt ta goo ta Booxton fuur? No n’t thar, noo Manchester, thar is summit.”  However, to cut this short after a long parley the driver of car finally got instructions after many revisions of above and at last drove away only to find himself entering Manchester.  This made us laugh as, after leaving Lancaster (a vast town) we asked a policeman the way to Troon.  His reply, “Wha doon yer goo ter Blackpool?”  He, poor man didn’t know what we were laughing at and was pleased to think we had made a joke.  But this appears to be a great habit of the English yokels or Scottish because they wish you to go to their favourite town.

After out day out to Trossach’s yesterday Pop and I drove home here and leaving our host and hostess at 9.30 we arrived here at 11pm and broad daylight still.  I do love this twilight.  I am spending today in bed, up for meals though.  It’s raining incessantly and pouring down the outside of our window and the sea looks so rough and dirty.  We are facing the Firth of Clyde.  It’s right outside our window.  A strong lass walked into our bedroom at Troon, she have a little gasp.  Had she come earlier she would have screamed I feel sure, Pop undressing.

This sweet little Canadian child of two who is here has just told her nice Daddy to pipe down so she is in disgrace.  As her mother gets really desperate at times I gave her one page of your latest letter, Bev, regarding Kim and garbage tin and her other pranks and she was so uplifted to realize that her babe was not the only one to get up to tricks.  Because it is wet they are leaving tomorrow.  I am so sorry and they told me they missed us yesterday.  I hope we meet again.  Pop has just walked into some woman’s bedroom and was glanced at.

Haddon Hall, very old and has a beautiful stream full of trout.  The river Wye and we could see the trout jumping.  This castle was (built) about 1530 or thereabouts, but must write about this later and the famous Peacock Inn where a maid from there eloped with one of the Duke of Rutland’s sons.  Maid Dorothy Vernon.  There is a book called Dorothy Vernon.  We lunched at this Inn whilst at Knutsford.

June 1954.

KNUTSFORD TO CHATSWORTH HOUSE.

Must write again about our lovely trip to Chatsworth House.  It really was the greatest of all our sightseeing.  I have never seen such magnificent art, both paintings and sculpture, and one of the guides or stewards, so elderly and courteous, took a fancy to us.  The present Duke of Devonshire (Chatsworth Hall is in Devonshire), Lady Macmillan’s brother, is quite young.  He is the eleventh Earl and lives in a smaller house nearby but his elder brother, who died in 1944 (and before his brother the tenth Duke died) had not succeeded to the title.  He was a major in last war (1939-1945), unmarried and very handsome and would be about Ron’s age, 33, but had such a good, clean, intelligent and strong face and fine hands.  His father died three years ago and only fifty-eight and so of course death duties very heavy.

Chatsworth House (Internet photo)

To describe Chatsworth House fully would take too long but its library and tapestries and grounds and fountains were breathtaking.  One thing I must describe.  In the music room it had a type of double door, one door behind the other and only partly open.  The back one had a violin painted on it and so realistic that hundreds of visitors went up to it and attempted to move it and touch it.  I have bought an illustrated catalogue of this and will keep it with these notes.  (My note: it is no longer with the diary.)  The beauty of these grounds is unbelievable and they have cascades and fountains and kept in such perfect order and trees and shrubs and flowers so lovely.  Inner courtyard interesting.  Weeping Ash hundreds of years old.

(My note: The next 5 paragraphs were taken from further on in the diary.  I think Greenie didn't think she had written enough about Chatsworth House and so I have moved them here.)   I had forgotten Chatsworth House near Peacock Inn and Haddon Hall.  Chatsworth House is the most magnificent of all our sightseeing so far.  (My note: some of the next four lines Greenie has mentioned earlier but she has added more information after that.)  The eldest son was a Major in last war and was killed in 1944 (23 years old).  Would have now been 33 and had a fine strong, clean and handsome face, with fine good hands if portrait true to life.  As he died before his father, the 10^th Duke, he was never a Duke, his father being only dead three years, so now the second eldest son is the 11^th Duke of Devonshire of Derbyshire.  He lives with his wife and two children in small place nearby.  This House and its gorgeous paintings and library and sculptures is all so breathtaking.  (Sculpture, a boy with a dog and mother and child (exquisite) and two lovely, large vases on pedestals either side of room.)  I have never seen such beautiful art and, as a young child, I spent my odd hours at the Melbourne Art Gallery and knew by heart all the paintings but these paintings I cannot describe and so have bought back a book on all this.

That heaven could be like it all, to look through windows at them made you feel at peace and rested.  Fountains, cascades and a little place where Mary Queen of Scots is said to have rested.  She must have been a very tired lady as, by all accounts in Scotland, she has hidden and rested in so many places

The ceiling of the painted hall is twenty feet high and the hall fifty feet long.  I must have stood looking up at the painted ceiling and top of walls with my mouth open and eyes popping as a very courteous guide brought a comfy chair to me and took us under his wing and showed us so many things we would have missed, he was so proud of it all.  The painting was the life and death of Caesar by La Guerre and the objects looked as if they would come out and down to you and in one room (music) there were two figures, on at each end of ceiling, that looked as though an electric bulb was lighting them up but it is just the clever way they were painted.

The bed where George III, the son of that horrible George 1st of Hanover, whose first wife was the great…grandmother of the present Marques of Blandford.  She was imprisoned for thirty two years.  This, of course, scarcely connected with Chatsworth House.  The chapel is a dream.  All walls three quarters up to ceiling carved cedar and upwards from that and ceiling more beautiful paintings.  The one over lovely marble altar, being that of “Doubting Thomas” on bended knee to Christ asking forgiveness.  One narrow panel right hand side of altar is a door through which the minister or priest came through.  One of the girls of the family was married three years ago in this chapel.

Hundreds of visitors must go each day to see this place as six buses and twenty cars, endless cyclists were there and it is open from 11 o’clock am until 4.15pm.  Two deaths in the family in seven years (I’m out a little) made the death duties very heavy.  These old and lovely places and abbeys really make England famous and yet the government is forcing the owners to give them up.  They would sooner pay the civil servants.  In fact some of these old and lovely properties have been taken over by the coal board and police training stations.  One famous castle was wrecked by its owner because of heavy taxes and when once a roof is off, no taxes!  There is a Countess in Scotland who looks terrible and scarcely enough to eat and everyone knows her.  They say all she has left is her beautiful, cultured voice.  I saw ruin of her castle, grounds lovely, she lives in a room somewhere else.

Pop has just arrived back from Glasgow and has had a day with a certain Sandy Morton who has been completely blotto and Pop is worn to a frazzle.  It appears the old chap first of all bleared at Pop and said, “Who are you?” and of course Pop said, “Greenwood, Sandy.”  “Well come and have a drink.”  Pop, “Not on your life at this hour.”  “Oh, well go up and sit down,” so Pop wanders all over the place until his nibs, Sandy, returns more blotto and after a while, off to lunch to local inn.

Pop is introduced to local miner, farmer, butcher and barmaid, more whisky and sherry for Pop, barmaid brings them and Pop refuses to drink and so Sandy makes the barmaid drink it.  Then into bar and Sandy loudly recites Bobbie Burns and then all and sundry sing and poor Pop literally bursting to get to his other appointment and so Sandy sends back a table cloth to me, being blotto, and Pop in league with proprietor manages to get in car and step on it and away.

Sandy’s daughter is in West Australia and he misses her and becomes maudlin, was nearly crying on Pop’s shoulder.  He then tried to kiss proprietress then later he rolled up his sleeves and apropos of nothing said whilst waving his arms round dangerously ‘hit em and hit em hard’.  No one knew who he meant.  This is one of the manufacturers.

We went out to another manufacturer’s home last night and had a very nice dinner and chat, in fact, the nicest people of all.  For dinner salmon steamed in milk which all English and Scottish seem crazy about considering they were forced to eat so much of it during war.  We had soup first, Scotch broth, very nice, then fish.  How I loathe fish, and then a flan which is a stiff Blanc mange with a meringue on top and then extra-large meringue separately.  Again, because of the twilight I was just about wearing out our welcome until I looked out the window and saw it was dark and then I realized how late it was, 11.30pm.

Thursday we left Troon and reached Edinburgh driving through beautiful country and arriving about 2pm.  Pop felt so disappointed as our hotel is one of a terrace and was unknown to A.A. (My note: Automobile Association) but it is very dear and every one of staff trying so hard to please.  No bathroom, only down a very steep stairs and 4 Alsatian dogs, am very scared of them, also no toilet for me.  Very awkward so a trip to another hotel, or tea room, and borrow theirs.  Mother and father and two pups and just as large as parents (Alsatians) are in kitchen with staff at this funny hotel.  Poor fella(?) Alsatian was cross because too many people in kitchen!!!

We leave tomorrow, Saturday, stayed here two nights.  On our way here we had lunch at a very lovely out of town Hotel “Chassell” in Newhouse.  Newhouse is a small village of mills, but as we enter hotel face abut fifty signed photos of film stars who have stayed there.  Margaret Lockwood, Gracie Fields and husband, George Formby, and I had not time to read any more because here also were genuine paintings.  I remember two artists, Leslie R.A. and Bough but these paintings were as lovely as any I have seen.  One painting of Ayrshire cows I would have loved and some by the famous animal painter Landseer.  I have always loved his work.

Today we did two tours of Edinburgh Castle and the city, Edinburgh, new and old.

EDINBURGH CASTLE AND CITY TOUR.

Gray Friar’s and Bobbie and his dog’s monument, St Giles Church, Last Public Hanging spot Holyrood Mansions or House where the Queen and Queen Mother stay when in Edinburgh, King Arthur’s seat.  This is all in Old Edinburgh.

Now in detail.  Castle immense but now they say of no historical interest.  I can’t believe that as it was razed to the ground in 309 or 903 (not much difference) by Robert the Bruce.  It is built in the side of earth cliff and it is the windiest spot in Edinburgh (someday it will collapse) and I can imagine it slipping.  Of course there are the ancient looking battlements and guns and well and a lion’s den where it is believed a tame lion (are they ever tame?) was kept.  Also the huge Oak and steel and iron studded doors to shut out the enemy, first one and 12 feet further on, another.  A modern section is being used for Scottish Army and female army also.  Rather disappointed in this.  The Castle I mean.

We take a city tour.  Very interesting mansions of nobility in bygone days.  Just about as large as Bill’s hut and all so gloomy and all buildings, new and old, as discoloured almost black.  Sir Walter Scott’s monument a wonderful piece of monumental art.  Would like to have visited art gallery but I was so tired and Pop felt it all depressing.  Until one gets used to these old buildings it is a trifle depressing.

There are parks and lawns everywhere in English towns and Scottish.  King Arthur’s seat is a rather high point of land and Gray Friars a building – courtyard and he was a farmer.  I have forgotten why he was famous but he had a dog called Bobby who, when Gray died, this little Scottish terrier sat on or near his grave for fourteen years and as his late master used to go to a tea room nearby and have a few meals and take Bobbie and so when the dog wanted a meal he would leave the grave and the owners of tea shop would feed him and when the doggie died, some peeress or well-known woman, Lady Burdett-Coutts, had a monument built on side of road of Bobby and it’s said to be his image.

We passed The Mrs. Henry’s Antique Shop.  I had just read about her trip to the sale of King Farouk’s furniture, vases, pictures, etc. and never expected to come so soon upon her very tiny shop in old dirty looking Edinburgh.  Of course she may be Jewish, she does look it.  Royalty buys quite a lot of things from her.  Mrs. Henry looks to be about fifty and very dark, perhaps Egyptian or Assyrian.

 June 19^th, 1954.

We leave Edinburgh nineteenth of June but not before describing St. Giles’ Church, a building of beautiful architecture.  We, nor any other country will, so I think, ever have such buildings again.  In front of this Church or I may be wrong but it was Edinburgh’s city centre, the mounting of the Town Crier.  He apparently was the human newspaper.  Near this is a heart built into road way built of road stones and is(?) level, but with a surround of red stones.  It’s said to mark the place of the last public hanging.  Midlothian Heart.

Moss Hall, Audlem.

(My note: Moss Hall, Audlem.  I have not known where to put the page on which Greenie wrote about it.  I have not been able to work out the route around the UK they took from Plymouth, where they picked up their car.  It lies somewhere south and between Chester and Knutsford in county of Cheshire, North West England.  The picture of the Hall in the notebook in which Greenie wrote this diary is a bad Roneo copy and I have added a colour one from the internet to do it justice.  It was home to her grandfather and so I must include it.)

Audlem Hall, called Moss Hall (Internet photo)

Beverley and Ron’s (maternal) great grand-father’s home when young.  James Massey Howard, Nana’s father.

But all the lovely trees have been cut down and burnt I suppose.  When Nana saw it, the Parklands were lovely.

We went through the above.  Oak door only left of 1616 building.  (My note: Greenie wrote 1016 but this could be a writing error.)  All the rest of house 1500 odd ? (My note: I cannot make out the word).

CHESTER AND MANCHESTER.

How I would like to have lingered in the markets.  I must mention our trip to Chester from Knutsford Saturday afternoon when all business places are open and all families free to go shopping and window shopping.  It is a huge and wonderful city.  I saw a date on one church as being built in AD 907.  The cathedral, I fell down 5 steps, was very lovely and Pop and Peter were looking at price of shirts and (?).  The shops are built up on path about seven steps from footpath to another footpath and so sheltering both top and bottom shops from weather as top shops had a large veranda over them.  It looked so odd whilst standing across the street to watch the people going to and fro on two levels of shops but again, what a crowd and so many cars, prams, toddlers, dogs and cyclists.  All something to watch out for.

We went to Manchester once only.  What a city.  I could not face the crowd so went into Kendels large store in Kings Street and up on to fifth floor terrace which surrounds shop and had a splendid view of the vast place it is and so busy, sooty and smoky.  I also visited library there.  It is a circular building and it was pointed out to me as the library and so made note of landmarks and arrived at library but found myself at the back and in amongst milk bottles and panel vans and so had to make a complete circle to front entrance.  I found the library beautiful and found almost every nationality sitting at tables reading or studying even being old and very shabby men to very exotic looking lasses.

Manchester mills nearly all owned by Jewish men.  In fact they say that it is mostly Jews who work there.  Perhaps that is why we were not asked out to their homes or taken out but then we were staying seventeen miles away.  As Pop drove in each day he passed a car parked just inside a certain gate and there sat a man at the wheel.  It appears he always sits there from one peak hour to the last peak hour.  No one seems to know why but believe he has this obsession (can’t think how to spell it) and it is how he spends his days.  I wonder what he thinks about or if he only sees and doesn’t think at all or if he only thinks and doesn’t see.

We drive through some very bleak and hilly country and the wind is blowing rather fiercely and rarely a house to be seen.  I feel sure it worried Pop as he loves beautiful scenery and trees.  Later we enter lovely country and it is still here with us in Catterick and we have found a very comfortable hotel, 47/- per person per day without meals.  It is almost a suite, separate half toilet, separate bathroom and large bedroom looking out on to trout stream which runs under an old bridge.  Part of bridge built in Elizabeth Ist’s reign but such a lovely scene.  The bridge has four or five arches and is stone and the gurgle of the Swale River stream makes up for the London traffic which is incessant.

Two men are just outside our window now fishing for trout.  This bedroom has a suite of furniture made of Oak by Thompson of York whose trademark was Mouse, so of course, on some spot of his furniture one can find a tiny Oak mouse as creeping over or crouching.  On top of bed heads is one motto – ‘Drowsiness shall clothe a man in rags’ – and bed – ‘Better to go to bed supper less than to rise in debt’.  Over the door of bath – ‘Reckless youth makes rueful age’ – and over toilet door – ‘Hot love is soon cold’.  Such queer furniture, not lovely at all.

Very nice carpet, two large leather easy chairs, telephone.  Breakfast 5/- (5 shillings), early morning tea 1/- each, Lunch 7/6, afternoon tea 2/6, dinner 9/6.  I think we will leave Tuesday but at least I have had a good sit down bath and a toilet to sit on, first since leaving ship.  All very lovely here and comfortable and it will do us both good as Pop has had a very busy time since leaving ship and he worries so much now and he is more nervy I think with all this driving and finding the route, although we have not made any big mistake yet his holiday will begin again on SS Orsova (which it didn’t.  We were starved, cooking awful and dirty forks.)

The outside of this hotel in front is really connected on to bridge.  I went outside to make sure.  The very lovely lounge, as large as Mr. Prior’s ballroom, is partly under bridge.  All London traffic just misses the corner of hotel by four feet.  The road frontage of this place is awful, so much so that we turned up our noses at it.  It looks just as terrible as any place we have seen but, once over the usual old uneven large stone floor hall, it is almost sumptuous, lovely lounge rooms, smoking rooms, reading room and cocktail bar.  Just before entering dining room which is twice as large as 44’s ballroom (My note: 44 Bradleys Head Road, Mosman, Sydney – my grandfather Ken Prior’s house where my father grew up) and has a bare polished floor with tables all round walls and of course it’s a dinner dancing place, evidently well known.  We could have had a cheaper room right on road but the continual traffic would have been too nerve-wracking.  Motor bikes, our pet aversion, and enormous twelve wheel wagons.  So very unlike Pop, he asked for breakfast in bed.  We have a standard lamp in our room which looks like a totem pole and is seven feet high.  Believe me I just gape at things I see in Scotland and England.  No shower in bathrooms anywhere and our room in Edinburgh we could not open the window.  I was afraid to open the one in Troon in case it fell to pieces.  Stairs, oh my!  A flight of stairs here until you reach top one and it is about three inches, consequently one lifts one’s foot so high only to come down plonk  Same with lower step but others quite a good grade.

Whilst in Edinburgh Pop so cranky that I took him to see Cary Grant picture, “The War Bride” but it was titled, “You Can’t Sleep Here”.  He did have a good laugh and then we had tea and then, because he hated our hotel so much and because of the lovely twilight, we went on this city tour as mentioned.  Pop felt so sorry for the driver that he gave him a tip, as Pop remarked, he had such a good face and a little pathetic and was about our own age and his voice was so tired describing all the places of note so many times during the day but he certainly was a nice chappie and one day less in this hotel.  I like the Scotch folk.

At last my hair is going grey.  I am sixty two and so it should although, on the ship and in Scotland, several people remarked on the auburn tints in my hair and liked the way I do it in two knobs.  Just as well.  But am I ageing, in fact, withering.  I trust I do not look pathetic with my face on out of box.

Bev and Bill if only you could see the beautiful copper beech trees here.  They are like a lovely prunus bush only immense.  All the other trees are also enormous and such a perfect green and so soft but, Ron, you have seen them, haven’t you?

Most of these old castles or manors or halls have their pig sties and stables and barns up against the house itself.  The flies and smell must have been awful and where these places are occupied, like Nana’s father’s place is, it more than smelt.  I am beginning to think that the English and Scottish people have no sense of smell.  Of course, so few open their windows enough.  Even in Knutsford, we could only, by using all our strength, open our window five inches.

In the hotel at Catterick, our bedroom is over dining come ballroom and the piano and drum is pretty awful but I have my medicine thank goodness.  At Knutsford we were over the bar and it did not worry us so much and lower ceilings there and dogs yapping amongst the drinkers.  3.30pm Pop sound asleep again.  He can always sleep, which is good.

The tree days break at comfy hotel necessary and wise.  I must mention The Bells of Peover, pronounced “pelver”.  The Bells of Peover is really an inn inside a church yard.  The church is behind the inn and the inn was, so it said, a house for the monks and later a home brewing place for the monks and now an inn.  We had morning tea here.  These inns are really awful to look at, but once inside, they are very small but clean and cosy and are crammed with as much brass in all shapes and sizes and variety from warming pans, kettles, candle sticks, dog collars, horse harness and all highly polished.  These are in every living room and stairs and landing, not bedrooms, but the labour must cost the staff many hours and I wonder they do not object.  There are huge fire fenders, coal buckets, the size of which I have never seen and I do believe that the maids of this country just love polishing.

Now to the very old church.  I should have written these remarks before but time flew, and now I cannot remember the age of it but I think 500 odd years and inside it the centre pews have a strip of worn carpet on large stone and very much worn floor.  The seats have cushions, also very threadbare, but as these pews are the only ones so covered, I think they are meant for the elite.  The papers and books inside glass cases were written in Old English and so I and Pop could not very well read it as the ink was almost faded out and our eyesight is not good enough to read it.  (I am quite sure that I cannot now spell correctly and get so tired sightseeing.)

The Bells of Peover Church, UK (Internet photo)

In the chapel is a huge box made of the stout old Oak of England and it has wide bands of iron round and over all of it and studded with strong iron studs and three immense padlocks and one key was given to the Priest and one to verger and the last to another officer of the church and so box (which is said to have held the vestments) could not be opened until all three of the clerics were present.  Another use of this box (lid only) was used to prove the physical strength of a prospective bride so if she could lift this lid with one hand only, she proved her health and brawn and fit to become a farmer’s wife.  I can’t help wondering how many wives of that time injured their insides.  Only the Sandow’s of today could lift it with one arm or hand. (My note: “Sandow's System of Physical Training was Eugen Sandow's best and most expansive book, and it helped to establish him as the most famous and commercially successful circus strongman in the world.” Taken from Google.  Sandow’s book was printed in 1894, as the Dedication in his book is dated 1894.)

To this day the choir all wear pillar box red surplice, I suppose you would call them, but they look to be made of the old turkey red material, as they do not seem to be faded at all but these churches and every building are extraordinary as one comes suddenly to a wee step and, of course, one can have a nasty fall on to these solid stone floors.  In this hotel at Catterick Bridge we are very wary as again odd steps everywhere.  I don’t know how the places kept their maids but they all seem happy and carefree.  Two huge dogs here and one a black or brindle bull dog mixture, gives everyone such a belligerent look if they happen to stand in front of fire place in entrance to dining room.  It is apparently his spot and when he sprawls out he takes up all of the space.

To return to above church, like most of these very old churches one quite suddenly finds oneself walking on a grave in the aisle of church.  In the Chester cathedral they were everywhere and that was a very large cathedral and so lovely.  I find that I cannot possibly take in mind of all there is to see in each place, as there is really a terrific lot of things of interest to look at and try to remember.  One day in each place with a note book and using short hand should do it.

I am writing this near a window and the enormous buses and wagons are just sheering off the window, so close is the busy road (which is of course the main road to London) that the traffic doesn’t cease and continuous all day Sunday, as many business wagons as private cars, and I once thought this England rather stiff in their religious outlook.

One curious item about these English buildings, hotels and homes, are the size of the doors.  So often Pop has to stoop or crack his poor head, but again we are so wary of movements.  No doors in this hotel have locks but heavy levers which clank whenever we try to shut any door and we have bathroom, bedroom, toilet and hall doors and they are rather difficult to close and to try and close them quietly and not use the heavy handle we pinch our fingers.

As I write I am facing a number of copies of famous steel engravings.  Henry Eighth and different Earls.  Nana had a number of original steel engravings but did not like them so left them behind in one of the many houses we lived in.  They were mostly Shakespearian.  Everywhere we look in these old places something is out of plumb.  Pop was rather worried about eyesight yesterday.  Whilst in bed, he said to me, come over here and stand beside me and tell me if you can see what I can see and sure enough the whole fireplace had a list on just as all the beams of ceiling have a definite curve or down at one end.

I feel sure that quite a number of women would object to suddenly come upon a mouse, as climbing up the post or meet up with one on the leg of dressing table or crawling up the mantel piece but they look so natural.  A funny trade name (Mouse).

I am glad that food does not worry me provided I had sufficient nourishment as the food here is really very badly cooked – I ate my soup with my eyes closed and my salad was all ham and tongue, plate covered with it.  I fancy the chef wanted to get rid of it and so salty and unwashed lettuce and tomato etc. - was I ill after it! - and awful dressing, too much vinegar.  A nice waitress (they are all nice and wear black frocks, white dainty aprons and bunch of black ribbon on their hair) said to me with such a look of concern, “But Madam has not eaten her lunch” but I had a nice creamed rice pudding to satisfy.

On one menu we saw escargots, I said what are they?  She tried not to look sick herself, said ‘sneels’ (snails).  Another Italian dish we tried, and wished we hadn’t, “ravioli”.  They looked like small cheese biscuits cooked in tomato sauce filled with a little chopped meat and stuck together and heated.  We felt later as though we must have swallowed some cement.  As I mostly write this in bed even the writing is bad as I cannot read it myself.  Whilst at lunch today we watched a large sow come down into trout stream (the River Swale) and sit in the water for a while.  Pop says pigs love the water as they get terribly hot.  I wonder which part feels the hottest.  There is a large picture on landing of staircase called the “First proof”.  It is, of course, black and white and appears to be warning people of the bad and sorry effects of “Bacchus”.  I am sure the drawing would interest Bill as it looks, to even my inexperienced eyes, a masterpiece and there is so much to it.

We went to one of Britain’s largest training camps this morning.  It is immense and so the village is built round it so to speak.  Very nice good shops and hotels, picture show in fact we were amazed to see such an up to date village with gardens and tennis courts and all this comes upon one suddenly.  Very good roads and a suburb of large homes.  A town built for the camp.  It is called Catterick Camp.  Tomorrow morning, 23/6/1954, will make two or three stops overnight en route to London.  I would like to have visited York which is not far from here but Pop must have break from driving.  We have already done 1,800 odd up to date since receiving Zephyr car.  I bought a sunbonnet here for Kim and wool for a little cardigan.

I must revert to Haddon Hall again.  We see the stables etc. near entrance to Hall.  We go through short drive and reach very old Oak strong door but we have to enter by opening in door and have to bend almost double to get through.  The stone before and after entering is worn to a hollow and into court yard and Castle built round it.  A dear little chapel with a sculpted likeness of a brother of the Lady Diana that was, I forget who she married but I remember that at the time of her marriage she was London’s most beautiful woman, but back to chapel.  This lad died when he was about 9 years his features are perfect, hands and feet really beautiful.  His mother is said to be a good sculptress and did this monument, adding miniatures of her other 4 children round sides and ends of foundation of monument.  This monument I think one of the most exquisite pieces of work in this chapel.

There is a very narrow staircase about 18 inches wide and when bell had to ring a local yokel who could not understand the Latin then used by priest was told to watch when priest took up wine or put down (I’ve forgotten) to then rush up this staircase and ring bell, what a scram, as stairs twisted into spiral.  At altar there are five panels over it, each one displaying some biblical event, the last one being the Virgin Mary in her garden.  All these hand carved out of alabaster, but now are very much discoloured but intact.

As Pop and I were just about exhausted, the lady guide, left other sightseers and rushed us through as we had a long trip back and it was getting late.  We only saw banqueting hall and present dining room.  All stone floors and the banqueting hall was not very large and had the floor raised under long table and this is where the nobles dined and in lower level, the lesser folk dined.  We had to go up five semicircle steps of solid Oak and they were in quite good condition, but the ballroom was about (as most other ballrooms of a great age were) eighteen feet across by about sixty feet long.  I just wondered where the wallflowers sat to be out of the way.  The panelling and windows were lovely.  It is in this Hall I saw the one kitchen but I was pleased to see the original one.  Firstly two huge chopping blocks, the size used in our butcher shops of today.  One of these had been worn into a hollow.  There was a baker’s oven in this and the working benches were also hollowed out with use.  The fireplace was a large one with a spit for roasting a whole beast.  The stone floor near it still shows a few signs of grease and it must have been messy and slippery and smoky.  In viewing our everyday life now were conditions seem unbelievable and shocking.

The Duke of Rutland sometimes comes and stays in one wing of house.  Perhaps they have to, most of these places have been formed into syndicate by the owners.  This must have been a very lovely place with its turrets and battlements and it still has a lovely garden, well looked after, and its little Wye stream full of trout.  Nearby is the Peacock Inn.  Some say the peacock is still there or rather a peacock in this Inn.  A maid named Dorothy Vernon with whom one of the early Duke’s sons eloped.  She climbed out of the windows and later they had a home in one of the Hall’s wings.  Her son became a Duke when father-in-law Duke died.  (My note:  in fact Dorothy Vernon was the daughter of a prosperous landowner and heiress to Haddon Hall.)

I must revert back to our trip with Mr. C. Robertson and his wife.  We passed the monument erected in memory of the Langside battle where Mary Queen of Scots sat on her horse and watched the battle.  I’m glad her lover Rizzio was killed! (My note: but not in the battle.)  I must mention the crucifixion.  After just leaving Catterick Bridge Hotel we came to a full size cross with a Christ nailed to it, also life size and beautifully sculpted.  This had a small roof or hood over it but, of course, it was very discoloured with weather and behind it simply a quarry.  This crucifix looked so deserted on roadside.

We arrive at the Hotel.

An English garden hotel.  It was very nice and such refined and well-read people owning it.  Again we had a suite.  I and Pop had a little more comfort to help us along.  Food not bad.  Whilst there we drove to Peterborough and looked at huge town and its old buildings and cathedral, which is truly lovely.  One memorial of one “Thomas Hunter of Kurri Kurri of N.S.W.” and it was rather wonderful so see this in a town off beaten track.  He died of wounds in Peterborough Hospital.  (My note: Thomas Hunter was born in England and moved to Australia at the age of 30.  He enlisted in the Australian Army. He was injured in Dardanelles in 1915 and after recovering went back to serve.  He was promoted and served in France where he was again wounded.  He was invalided to England and died in Peterborough Hospital in 1916 from his injuries.  His headstone was raised by public subscription.  Pop lost his arm due to injuries sustained in France in 1917 so this memorial would have meant a good deal to him and Greenie.)

We drive to have a look at Duke of Gloucester’s home.  Not artistic but gloomy and large with a nice farm and surrounded by beautiful country and he and Duchess very well liked in district.  We also visited a famous school town called Bundle (My note: I believe this is Blundell) the quaintest of all towns.  (Dutch built it we heard also a village called Rothschild.)  We leave Garden Hotel at Norman Cross and make for London.  Oh my, I had to be piloted into Bloomsbury Street, Hotel Ivanhoe.  Traffic awful.  Very large and clean and comfy and up to date, but again food worse than ever.  We have moved thank goodness as whilst lying in bed I had to gaze at the pathetic crooked stairway across the street and I could see the next block through battered windows near the stairs.  All that was left of a bad bombing but it was beginning to depress me.  These English, my age and older, how wonderful they must have been and, I hear, so cheerful and we complain if the milk, butter or bread is not quite up to standard.

One must see these bombed out buildings to understand.  The East End was burning for a week.  The University went and even here at Earl’s court (one large house facing me whilst I scribble) was razed to the ground as we are one of a terrace.  Four of the terrace lost their roof and this place “Strathcona Court” (which, by the way, is the nicest place we’ve stayed at and beautifully home cooked food, clean, comfy and moderate and generous – 198 Cromwell Road, Earl’s Court, we recommend) had its ceilings blown down and windows blown out.  These London houses and homes have four floors, or even six, all have basements and attics but nice lofty ceilings.  The cupboard doors are over eight feet high and 2 inches thick.  Strange since Pop has had to stoop to go through doors just out of England.

Our bedroom here is a bed sitting room, hot and cold water, gas ring as no lunches given.  Opposite front door so no stairs, nice outlook and quiet (back room very large) facing garden and lawn.  I visited the famous Harrods, had lunch there.  Very large plate covered with lettuce.  Chinaman’s lettuce I suppose and finally, I didn’t have any, one sweet and cup of tea with 6d tip, 9/6.  I could have bought a 6d lettuce.  “Scotch House” delightful with all its various tartans.  I do love tartan but the Sutherland tartan I think rather the ugliest.  (My note: Greenie was Lilian Sutherland prior to her marriage.)  Tartan slippers, all sizes, kilts, pullovers, skirts, scarves, gloves, rugs, bags, all fascinating to me.

Ida and I (My note: Ida was Greenie’s older and late sister who died in the Spanish influenza epidemic of 1919) as children were dressed in the Scottish dress, buckled shoes, white sox, tartan cape and black velvet coatee (?), tartan skirt and white blouse.  We looked and felt very smart and attractive, our tam-o-shanters at correct angle.

I visited Harvey Nicols, 52 guineas to make me what I want in a coat and skirt.  I shall leave the West End shops and visit the East End.  Have seen the outside of Drury Lane Theatre which is opposite Covent Garden Theatre.  Both look most unattractive and nearby Bow Street Police Station, which after reading so much about looks insignificant.  My error, we came back entrance.  All these up against the smelly Covent Garden Markets.

Australia House not at all impressive but of course most important, when one realizes the numerous nationalities which must pass through its doors.  Buckingham Palace dignified but not as impressive as I imagined nor is Clarence House or Marlborough House.  I am beginning to think we Australians are a trifle flamboyant or too ambitious.  Taxied home through a flag festooned wide street on Wednesday.  Street lined with mounted police and crowds on footpaths.  About four taxis in this street and I alone in one and I felt a little self-conscious as these people were all waiting for the King and Queen of Sweden and they must have been due to arrive.  I really felt like sitting on the floor of the taxi and hiding.  The street was so empty of cars, about the only street that was.

Two small blankets on my bed and so I asked for eiderdown and they sent one into me as, what looks like to me, a dry-cleaned rug for the floor.  I think it must be a coat off a moose as it is so hairy and large.  I don’t know what to do with all of it but it is warm.  I have never seen such a place as this England for antiques.  I am beginning to feel like one myself but of course valueless.  We go to lovely Sussex last Sunday.  One and half hours in air-conditioned train and thought I’d choke.

Arrived there and took taxi for four miles and spent whole day with Pop’s cousin Bobbie who is stone deaf but so full of fun and looked so happy to see Pop after thirty-six years.  Bobbie cannot hear himself gasping for breath.  He cannot last much longer but has had a really easy life.  Bobbie has no sense of responsibility and has always had someone to lean on.  No pride.

I shall never object to a certain dog, or bitch, called “Soda” again.  (My note: Soda was our family’s dog when I was young, a Scotch terrier.)  These people treat their dogs as humans.  The dogs are filthy and lick their owner’s face and hands for minutes on end or the owner nurses a huge animal on his knee or plays with its mouth or very short tail and then the owner goes out and gets our meal!  Thus at Bobbie’s I felt ill.  Joey, who refers to herself as Bobbie’s wife, does this but she is wonderful to Bobbie, in fact, wonderful in many ways.

(I’m getting tired of this diary).  I guess you are too.

I must again go back to Knutsford – It was from there we drove to Congleton I think! To what is called, Morton Old Hall (not Old Morton Hall) very similar to James Massey Howard’s place.  Once again the white clay with black Oak beams to contain fifty seven rooms.  First of all we come to a real moat across drawbridge and through double archway into large courtyards which house surrounds.  On right hand side a very tiny chapel where service is still held occasionally.  Then we climb numerous wooden spiral crazy stairways into numerous rooms.  Ballroom again long and narrow and small dressing rooms and up a few more stairs and down a few more to other rooms, possibly bedrooms, and several antechambers and floor sloping dangerously I think.  Old Oak beams beginning to show rot.  This place also smelt.  Never open of course, crazily built as one has to return to same rooms to get out of others if you know what I mean.  Why more people were not burnt to death in these traps is more than I can understand.

   Old Moreton Hall or Little Moreton Hall

This building is three storeys and just to use one’s imagination a little, what did the poor little maids of about twelve years old or less have to put up with if any of the family ill, especially sanitary arrangements.  As we entered the cobbled courtyard at first, we saw at once a roof which was all levels.  The roof of that great age, 1500 years old, is now sinking and it looked so crazy.  On left, after entry into courtyard, was a modern toilet which must have been an old kitchen, as the first thing one sees on entering, is an old fireplace with and old stove in it, too much trouble to remove.  Or perhaps the building may fall down if they did remove it.  I just recoiled, a kitchen stove and three toilets!!  The courtyard.  Just imagine a coach or two and a few horses clattering into cobbled courtyard at midnight.  It must have been terrifying or nerve-wracking or in some romantic cases, exciting or enemy soldiers even.  These cobbles in roads and courtyards are very wonderful and they have remained so level.

I have forgotten to mention carpet on floor of Buchanan Arms where proprietor wore kilts.  It was a plaid carpet but of no clan whatsoever as the Scots naturally would not allow any clan plaid to be trodden on!!

I have been given two supper cloths.  They are very heavy and (in gratitude more luggage) at Glasgow.

LONDON.

Now we come back to London that is to write about it.  I think it is a wonderful place and so interesting (if one could only walk everywhere).  In buses or cars we miss so much.  Hyde Park seems to be the centre of London and is a lovely park unlike our quiet parks.  The traffic, if necessary, passes through it.  Pop has just told me of a bomb (fifty pound I hear) which was discovered and so the bomb was removed and brought back to the office and put on someone’s desk and informing the chap at desk that was one of the First World War ‘eggs’ and would eventually go off.  The man at the desk went for his life and didn’t wait for any explanations.  This happened after last war.  Pop was telling him that as he himself lay in Woolwich Hospital here in 1916 he saw the first Zeppelin brought down and of course great excitement in ward of hospital.

I shall never forget the dogs that I see here as one Englishwoman said to me, “I love dogs but they are becoming an obsession with people.  French poodles with puff and tufts here and nothing somewhere else, other large Airedales trimmed the same style and they look sillier than the poodles.  Lots of Dachshunds (My note: Greenie spelled them Deutch hounds) with their long tummies almost brushing the ground and I saw in tearoom at Harrods a woman nursing a (rat dog) other words toy terrier.  It has a tartan coat, oh, and bells around its neck.  It looked so sad.  Thank goodness no dog here.  Sounds rather nasty but the dog in England comes first and although there are notices as to this effect, any dog found fouling the footpaths, the owner of such animal will be fined.  Believe me no one would dare fine a dog owner even so and footpaths disgusting.

Ruby Robinson arriving on Strathaven 1th July and has asked me to book a room for her near me.  Ye gods I certainly have been in some peculiar houses.  I wandered into a very large place today, well-kept and well carpeted and could not find anyone, even rang lift and it came down empty.  Finally heard loud chattering and located voices (foreign) “No speak English” so departed without seeing anyone.  Next I went into another place.  Very stout Jewess and quite unclear.  She wanted to go to Sydney family in Double Bay.  All luggage packed.  After much of this, she discovered she had no room but ran out into street after me and said, “Madam I run very respectable house”.  I wondered what I looked like?

I would like to visit Tate Gallery this week.  Next week too late.  Some wealthy Brazilian exhibiting his half million pounds worth of paintings.  I hear they are superb.  Some are asking us out tomorrow (Thursday) had appointments Monday and Tuesday, rested Wednesday and Friday may fit it in.  (Inspection of Tate Gallery I mean.)  People are all very friendly but not shop assistants, very uppish in large shops.

Went to see Danny Kaye – Knock on Wood - very humorous and clever as was the first picture.  All people in theatre who wish to smoke are permitted to do so, consequently, bad photography and dense smoke affect eyes very much.

We put an advertisement in “Times” for anyone wishing a trip over continent could have seat in car if they could handle route, language and money.  My goodness, the phone in our room rang until 10.30pm.  Italians, cockneys and others but they wanted a return trip, but we catch ship at Naples.  Pop is always saying, “I wish I were home at Church Point”.  He cannot adapt himself.  I am going to have a meal at Soho if I can.  We were dry for a cuppa and so drifted into an A.B.C. help yourself place.  Poor Pop, people of all races, workmen and the lass at the counter, “Righto luvvie” but it was a nice cup of tea.

Terrific thunderstorm here yesterday and a girl killed at Essex.  That is the third severe thunderstorm since we arrived in England.  It really rains every day.  But strange to say we all carry umbrellas and rarely put them up.  It is such soft fine rain at present.

We have a sandbox outside this house which Pop says is used when streets have snow on them or ice to prevent slipping.  We have just heard that it is much easier to drive on continent than in England but we do not believe anyone now, as there are so many different opinions and apparently different kinds of nerves.  The bank Manager, Mr. Ash (Bank of Sydney) told us today that it is much easier to drive on continent than England.  I thought Pop would burst a blood vessel today, Saturday and midday, and of course traffic leaving centre of London, other buses etc. coming into it and some go to race I suppose, but we were near St. James Park and I was fascinated by the traffic.  Double decker buses two and three abreast and taxis and every kind of wagon and cars and we had to cross it.  I was not the least bit worried only Pop wanted to cross between pedestrian crossing not on them and which is there for safety of people and when once anyone steps onto this all traffic must pull up and so we did this and felt like two little ants weaving among all this, but Pop “I don’t know why I ever came to this place it’s crazy, the traffic is impossible etc.”  I really had to decide to bring him back to guest house of course it was raining most of time.

We saw Princess Margaret and the Queen Mother.  I suspected someone of importance would be leaving Clarence House soon as a chappie with a flashlight camera was waiting behind a pillar as we walked around St. James Palace to Clarence House and then I saw that Buckingham Palace gates were opening.  Princess Margaret is the tiniest lass and with such small and dainty hand.  I had a good view of her but could not get a chance to see the Queen Mother as the interior of car was rather dark and so was the position where we were standing, just near the entrance gates and under a lot of huge trees.  Could have seen her had we had more time.

I have been to and through the Tower of London and we had a particularly humorous guide who, for the benefit of sightseers, made the history of Tower as gory as possible.  Thus, “Well it’s like this see, when they had their heads chopped off you’ll see the axe and chopping block over there, they just dumped all the bodies in heap and at a later date someone came along and tried to sort the right bones and(?) some would fit and some wouldn’t fit.  Those as would were put separately into a grave and the mixed bones were just dropped into some other grave” etc.  We go into archway under bloody Tower and, “All(?) folks if you look above her ‘eads you’ll see a row of holes (as large as a dinner plate) and when the enemy comin’ the people of the Tower shut both gates as soon as the enemy got inside both, or rather between, these two gates in archway and then poured boiling hot oil down through theses ‘oles.”

This guide was worth the trip!  I also saw the ravens of which I had read and a little child wandered so near them and got such a bite from one of them and it is said that only one keeper can go near them, they are as black as coal and very much heavier than our crows and their cry is so horribly sinister.  I also saw crown jewels and Edward’s crown and it is, indeed, large and heavy.  These jewels, staffs and crowns are a wonderful sight! But all wrong whilst people have no homes and no food, still it is all for the people as they love it all.  It is their England – read of this in my book.  Saw St. Paul’s, really lovely, also in my book.  Too much to relate.  Part of it bombed but no so much damage done but where St. Paul’s is, it is called the City of London and the bombed churches and homes and other buildings is too awful.  I also saw part of an old Roman wall.  In guildhall recent findings of Roman shoes, vases and cups 1941.  Guildhall Exchange, Bank of England Mary i.e. Bow Bell Church.

Wednesday we go to Eton College and Windsor Castle and Thursday to Sandersons, Tuesday to Hettie’s, my cousin whom I have never seen but have written to her for fifty years. I wonder who will receive the greater shock.  She is a few years older than I.

I now have met her.  She was, I feel sure, horrified at my poor intellect and I was horrified at her narrow mindedness and Victorian attitude and her appearance and her husband is such a dear and was in No. 10 Downing Street.  What Arthur did there for 45 years I do not know as he is such a gentle refined soul and with such a twinkle in his eye and was so pleased to see us.  I know now he was foreign correspondent.  (Two weeks later)  Hettie hurt because I had not rung her on telephone, because as she says, will only be writing to each other henceforth so I promised to ring her this morning.

“By the King’s Permission,” Windsor Castle, a story told by a guide who has been employed at Windsor Castle for 50 years –

The late Queen Mary would sometimes stroll about the rooms of Windsor Castle and, wishing to change the furniture and statues or pictures to different positions in room, and when discussing this head decorator, would add (knowing she would always get her own way), “We will move this chest or picture etc. to the other side of room with the King’s permission.”  The men always knew it would be done, so in one instance a nude woman and large painting was in a particular room in a very conspicuous position and so Queen Mary wished it moved.  The late King George V would not have it moved and so the Queen tried for months to persuade him to move it and it’s said that it is the only time he was to have said ‘no’ and mean it and get it.  However six months later the decorator was again in this room and asked two young and new assistants to carry this picture along to the King and ask George V if he thought the picture wanted cleaning and before the poor kids could say anything the King saw this picture and roared, “Take that picture and put it back where it was”, and the poor kids knew nothing of the incident of Queen Mary’s request and so, of course, thought ‘this is the end of our job here’ and whilst returning along passage met up with the chappie who told them to go to the King with it and he roared, “Didn’t I tell you to take this along to King,” so for a time they were twixt the devil and the deep blue sea.  But it is evidently true that the late Queen Mary was a very determined and, I have since found out, an extravagant woman.  They died, so they say, worth £4,000,000 and I have seen her art treasures and she was always hunting in shops for them.  They are magnificent and worth a fortune.  Where did she get the money?  As Princess May, she was poor.

Windsor Castle, Eton College, Hampton Court buildings of 9 ½ acres, Kew Gardens, Drury Lane Theatre £1-0-0 to see play.

Valerie Hobson in The King and I (Anna and the King of Siam), magnificent costumes but that is about all other than good ballet.  Ballet has always made me feel exhausted to watch.

Went to National Art Gallery, The Bells of Pelover, Chester Cathedral – pronounced Pel-ver.)

The pigeons in Trafalgar Square.  Pigeons by the hundreds and so fat and tame.  Trafalgar Square is so very crowded at lunch time.  Leica men all round one so I and Pop and R.R. (My note: Ruby Robinson I think) had a photo taken whilst feeding pigeons at our feet.  Saw Wallace Collection.  This is really a lovely collection of bronze Service Chine, paintings and furniture.  I also saw Portrait Gallery and National Gallery.  Covent Garden’s Theatre and Drury Lane Theatre are in such sordid surroundings and almost next to Covent Garden Market and just near Bow Street Police Station.

 

Pop and Greenie, Trafalgar Square, UK, 1/8/1954

Australia House is very nice but people find assistants far from helpful and have and aloof or uninterested manner.  St. Pauls Cathedral very lovely and dignified and more restful than Westminster Abbey.  The latter looking very much like a museum.  The former has a lovely dome with a whispering gallery.  People walking round this gallery are so high that they look like midgets and I believe if one stands on one side of dome and whispers the people across the other side can hear every word spoken most clearly.  I have dined at large and small shops in London.  Some small shops better than Harrods. Dogs are allowed in these places and sit on owner’s knee whilst owner has lunch.

Forgot to mention that, unlike Westminster Abbey, St. Paul’s will not have graves in floor of Cathedral so a verger informed me?  I once read the story of Major John André, little did I think I should see his grave.  He was a good man but enticed by lovely ambitious American girl to turn traitor to America and sell secrets to England and then for cash she sold him to America.  But now the Americans always put flowers on his grave on America day.  He was a good man before this.

10^th August 1954

We leave London for Newhaven for Channel crossing but stay the night at Seaport two miles further on at an hotel called Splash Point (name most appropriate) perched up on a bare hill overlooking channel.  This same channel looked frightfully rough to me.  I find that the two previous crossings were the roughest for years.

Comfortable clean hotel (we were the only guests) but I feel as if the whole building would be blown away any second and the wind and rain thrashing against the window and my thoughts on the Channel.  After breakfast we drove on to the boat for Dieppe.  We cross Channel and latter not too bad, the trip was not too rough, a few cups and saucers broken and the trip four hours.

DIEPPE TO PARIS.

I put myself to sleep in fur coat, slept in comfy chair until we arrive at Dieppe.  We arrive at Dieppe.  What a dreadful place is Dieppe and we had such a long time to wait for our car to be unloaded.  The two previous channel crossings were the worst for some months.  We were lucky.  Depressing and ugly and when one remembers the facts of the skirmish there and 2,000 Englishmen mown down as they were, one could see why.  The cliff faces the beach (as much beach as one see anywhere over there) and though only a bunch of Hitler’s he had a defense there up on the top of cliff and I read that General Montgomery did not advise this attack but Mountbatten of English went over his head and the massacre was pitiful.

After standing in a small, unshaded, hot wharf for two hours our Zephyr was unloaded and we start for Paris and after leaving wharf inquired of some workmen which road to Paris.  They could not understand us and we mentioned France and their faces opened up and rushed us with Paree, Paree, we received correct directions.

PARIS.

Drove through rather flat and quite uninteresting country but no further trouble re route.  Noticed this route into Paris very decadent looking.  We meet our driver near Paris at Road-Pont-de-la-Defense and are taken to hotel which is clean and comfy with bath and toilet and that evening to Montmartre which I visited three times much to Pop’s disgust.  Young and interesting at night with its singing and musicians but in broad daylight awful.  It was a nice calm evening and we have our meal at open café very nearby on tables on footpath and watched several diners lapping up their snails, musicians strolling round us.  We then walk to Sacred Heart Church and sat on its very steep steps from there had a grand view of Paris and watched the very colourful lights of Paris down below us.  We stayed there until 11pm.  Artists everywhere about streets painting some scene or other.  We roamed around and looked at their work.

We drive (next day) through and round city sightseeing.  Fine view from Avenue du General de Gaulle.  Pass over River Seine through Porte-Maillot past Arc-de-Triomphe and along Avenue des Champs-Elysees and Place-de-la-Concorde, Paris. (Square or junction).

The next day we drive through glorious woods to Chateau Chantilly and were unable to see inside as it was not open to sightseers that day, but saw the hundreds of carp in the moat and they were so fat devouring loaves of bread thrown to them.  The bread disappeared in a few seconds.  These carp are sold to Hospitals and other places to help with taxes on Chateau.

We visited the scene of Waterloo and the painting and statue of dead horses and statues were very realistic.  We came through beautiful wood and saw Eiffel Tower.  Also went through Palace at Versailles (Ver-sy-ee).  The guide of Palace spoke in French!!  Very interesting.  We did not like Paris.

We drive out to Cheval Mort (dead horse) to posh restaurant and it was a lovely place and asked for steak without rouge as we had not the correct accent.  Our steaks were very much rouge and then I rushed pancakes. Ugh!  Something arrived the size of a dinner plate and puffed up with mysteries.  I would not touch it.  Our fault we should when traveling speak French.  It is fairly universal.

Disappointed in Notre Dame but liked La Madeleine Church.  Saw only outside of Opera House but it looked very imposing.  Was not very impressed by shops.  It is said to be capable of seating 3,000 people (Opera House) very majestic looking, splendid architecture.

(My note: the diary goes blank for some pages and then begins again and I realize I am reading chronologically (or route wise) backwards, so after reading to the very last page, I decide to transcribe pages in most logical order and merge paragraphs that repeat earlier ones but add extra information.  Greenie then repeats some of what she has already written about Paris but with extra information.  I have drawn her observations together to make the diary run in chronological order and this required a little selective editing without losing information.)

We cannot get accustomed to these make believe rolls for breakfast, they are so light.

BRUSSELS, BELGIUM.

We leave Paris for Brussels.  We reach Brussels and the street and hotel not too good but had bathroom etc., but driver took us to some nice places.  Lovely buildings, very old but artistic and well-kept.  Market square and its government building, which I liked, and the Royale Arcade where we dined or lunched at very nice restaurant, Café (Tavern) Royale.  Very well run and good food and drink for those who are fastidious.  £1-0-0 per head.  Sunday morning bird selling day.  Laces and China beautiful.  Handmade blouse, no sleeves £10-10-0, brought two small mats instead.  These two drivers drove at 80 kilo and hour and over cobbles, it was very mad tiring. 

DUSSELDORF, GERMANY.

Buy a Leica camera.  We stay at Dusseldorf and disappointed in Rhine drive.  Germany very expensive and blown to pieces during war, terrible.  People look very German and women of 45 and over look grim, men fat and bloated, horrid fat red hands and thick necks and egg shaped heads.  Young men look very nice and different.  Germany nice, Black Forest, lovely.  Now to Amsterdam.

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS.

We arrive at Amsterdam after passing through Rotterdam and Koln.  Hotel America and it was very comfortable and clean and Amsterdam vert interesting with its canal and boats and hundreds of cyclists (hundreds of them).  Dozens and dozens of chairs and tables outside give it the continental effect.  We arrive at Darmstadt and like it indeed, nice clean building, large and modern.  All these places have had their share of bombing.  We stay only one night and move on to Dusseldorf and quite comfortable room but facing bombed buildings.  This place had a very heavy bombing.

SWITZERLAND.

Arrived 25/8/54.  (My note:  after this at top of page Greenie has written ‘read this later’.  I’m putting this in the order I think it goes.)

Raining off and on.  Four days continued motoring as ever since we have arrived, the different manufacturers come 55 miles to collect us and then drive us home again.  On the festival night here 28/8/54.  It was a grand affair, fireworks, dancing in the street, concert, vaudeville, boats lit up out on the lake.  I was too exhausted to go even though tickets were procured for us.  Next day a luncheon party after driving another 60 miles.  This time it was most interesting.  I believe our host is a multi-millionaire.  He went to America to transact business and has brought back many American ideas.

He inherited this place.  It is on the edge of Lake Constance and he has a motor launch, three sculling boats, 2 rowing boats, a large motor boat and a very large yacht, a lovely home with lift installed and house has just everything.  At lunch the butler and maid wore white gloves on their hands.  It looked so odd to see these white things coming in front of your with a dish of something.  Beautiful vegetable and flower gardens, 6 glass houses for hot house plants, 9 hole golf course, stables and horses, swimming pool and a steam room in which to warm oneself after a swim, a lake fresh water.  All this and the owner such a disappointed and lonely being.  Three wives left him!!!

 

Mr. Stoffel’s Villa, Lake Constance, Switzerland

                                   Greenie and Pop at Stoffel’s Villa, Lake Constance

The mountain and lakes in Switzerland are really beautiful and so is the countryside with its well-kept and well-worked farms.  Indians are gradually creeping into this lovely place as are Negroes.  This country is said to have the best trams in Europe.  They are so brightly painted blue and white and are quite long.

Went for another drive and phone call to bedroom, “Mrs. Greenwood your driver is here”, and so we go down to well uniformed chauffeur and shiny black Buick and off we go to see another manufacturer and taken out to very nice club for lunch.  Whilst driving back (a perfect day at last) we could see snow on mountains in distance.  It looked so beautiful and so did the country through which we drove.  Driver could not speak English so when Pop used a few German words the driver was delighted.

Brunnen.

     Brunnen, Switzerland

                                             

Greenie in Brunnen, Switzerland

(My note: Switzerland and I’m not sure if Brunnen came before or after Zurich as it was added as a note at top of page.)  A lovely place where we lunched, fish pulled out of lake and cooked as wanted, so we believe.  Village built on edge of lake and so very beautiful is this lake.  All lunch tables out on footpath.  Food good and place clean and people friendly.  Would like to have stayed here.

ZURICH.

We arrive at Zurich and it is loveliest place of all.  Clean, well-managed but expensive.  Meat 12/- pound.  Fruit looks so tempting and nicest cakes I have ever tasted.  Its lakes (one is quite near our hotel) and mountains and well-kept farms.  A lovely place to live.  People so very friendly and helpful and fastidious and nice looking young folk, but expensive.  We stayed at the St. Goddard Hotel.

We leave Zurich much to my regret and arrive at Gotschen valley of mountains.  Hotel not too good but best there, lie in bed and look at snow-capped mountains and a small balcony to our room, china jug and basin etc.  We gave a lift to a middle aged German woman (refined) who is quite convinced Hitler still lives.  The Proprietor speaking quite good English and such a dainty type and so sweet.  Her husband, a great big unshaven creature, who would have allowed her to carry up heavy suit cases but Pop had other ideas.

We leave this hotel and instead of putting ourselves and car on train through tunnel, were persuaded to go over the Alps.  Snow covered Alps everywhere and water rushing down in very many places.  This drive very dangerous but gives one the experience and chance of seeing a colossal piece of engineering skill.  Road making and bridge building and I could not look either side of me because of the height of Alps one side and the depth of gorge the other side.  35 turns (elbow) in 14 miles.  I really considered the drive from Zurich to Gotschen much more breathtaking in beauty and road work every few miles we had to pass under small, or rather through, small tunnels and the lake so blue and with its large white yacht moving along it looked completely perfect.  We drove beside this lake for many miles.

Friday we leave Gotschen and arrive at Como.  Firstly (like the French) we do not feel any friendliness. They each look as though they disliked English.  2/6 per person for a cup of tea without milk!!

LAKE COMO.

Como.  Hotel Metropole Swisse, guide nice, right on Lake.  We dine out near footpath and watch boats coming and going whilst trams nearly take the end table with them so close is the road to one end of hotel.  We can also watch the car (about as long as one railway carriage) taking its passengers (vertically) up the mountain.  This place could be beautiful but race seem naturally slovenly and we think becoming decadent.  Goods and shops moderately priced.  Hand worked silk blouses £6-6-0.  Como is the home of silk industry.  I had not expected to see so many fair haired, blue eyed and red haired people.

A number of Italians will never forgive Britain for her interference with Mussolini and Selassie.  I have been out of circulation again, nature making me rest up instead of rushing around.  I have been in bed three days with a very severe attack of hay fever (a wog) but also our room and bathroom very nice, both are very hot.

We leave tomorrow, Wednesday 7th September, I think for the Italian Riviera and stay two nights with a manufacturer, who we find are almost multi-millionaires.  We will be driving through Milan, a city I have always been interested in because of its vastness and historical past.

We have driven through and it must, like all large Roman cities, have been built on a magnificent scale.  As the day was terrifically hot and I was ill, I could not walk round and have a good look at it, also our Italian had still many miles at 90 kilometres to go.  Villa d’Este built for Napoleon.  We lunched here taken by a manufacturer.  An hotel full of Americans but very sumptuous.

The drive to Italian Riviera and arrival at Villa of Senora Catanino.

Was so ill the morning of leaving Como.  Felt it too impossible to make it.  I could scarcely see or walk without help, fever, sore throat and mouth and vomiting (latter crossed out).  The journey to Villa a nightmare.  Fortunately we had a driver.  Pains in my tummy almost unbearable.  The strangest attack I have ever had and now have a shocking cough.  Was sent to bed on arrival 3.30pm and thankful.

The Villa, a picturesque, three storey house but up higher from township, therefore overlooking the Italian Riviera with its huge and expensive boats and numerous varied coloured sun umbrellas.  Not as lovely as Balmoral Beach.  Again, as it appears in France, looking rather decadent and Genoa really depressing, very narrow road and curves every few yards.

   Greenie with two other ladies on 

                                                      balcony of Catanino's Villa

                                               Greenie with Catanino family

The chappie who drove us could not speak any English and whilst going through  Milan a police man came up to him for doing something he should not do and, as the car had G.B. on it and he had blue eyes and fair hair, he cunningly looked at the policeman with a vacant look in his eyes and I was so amazed at the flow of the policeman’s language that I practically had my head out of car and at last the policeman looked at all of us disgustedly and said “Scram”.  We had a good laugh at our driver’s quick astuteness (at pretending to be English).

Milan must have been, like Florence, at one time a magnificent town!  It is colossal and the architecture something on cannot possibly describe, but such a hot place.  Florence is a very busy place and, like Milan, very old and a ‘has been’ and smells very much indeed and buildings looked so dirty and ready to fall to pieces.  Shops here very beautiful in them but the only things that are cheap are blouses.  Most thing, especially leather, very expensive and the town of leather industry.

On the Continent Pop can handle the currency (cash) better than they and nearly always comes off best.  He gets the poor things so confused.  They are hot and bothered on completion of deal and glad to be rid of us.  These Italians drive one round at 90 kilometres an hour and wave both their hands about in trying to express their meaning and the car turns corners by itself and in such narrow and crowded streets also the driver is looking at Pop and not even watching the road.  I feel sure this horrible experience gave me hay fever.  9.30pm. and Pop is still battling with manufacturers in hotel and bringing samples to me at the Villa where we slept for two nights.  It was lovely, a beautiful entrance hall, 50x30ft, palms etc. and a lovely wide marble staircase, marble balustrade to all floors.  Every comfort.  Dining room 28ft x 38ft and a waiter and maid who wore, as is evidently the custom over here, white gloves whilst serving meals, a governess for two children, 8 and 10, a nurse maid for each of two other children, a laundress permanently there, cook, cleaner, two house maids, two gardeners.  This is the summer house of one of the manufacturers.  Ever since coming to Italy and Switzerland we have had to eat spaghetti with just a bit of tomato sauce put on top.  Pop and I had to eat it or we would have been hungry, if anyone ever dishes up spaghetti again to me, I’ll crown them with it.

 Nursemaids with two children, Catanino’s Villa

At the Villa, before setting out for a 245 mile journey (and I was ill) we were given our breakfast out on terrace of two rolls and tea each.  Really it is no wonder these people here are pasty faced, big tummied and fat women at about 35.  This family were kindness itself but they do not eat breakfast over here.  The mosquitoes were as large as horse stingers, although we had nets, we were badly bitten.  A railway train junction almost under our window and trains going all night with about 17 carriages, 4 churches striking all night and each a few seconds later than the last one, washing hanging out all windows.  Windsors ? and ? stay here.  Italian Riviera!!

HOTEL MINERVA, FLORENCE.

Third floor, public square below us, lovely grass plots, fountain, thousands of pigeons, millions of young children and older ones screaming out to each other, mothers screaming out to them trams tearing past and motor coaches and phaetons with their tired and broken down race horses pulling them and their bells tinkling but I would have to be pretty helpless to go into one of these phaetons as the poor horses look so exhausted.  The children go home about 10.30pm but all other noises including the noisy and innumerable scooters continue until about 2.30 but start again at 4.30.  Church Bells chime about the hour of 5.30am.  Also on this public square are to water melon stalls and as these people have had no summer until this last week, they are feeling the heat and the water melons are in great demand in spite of flies and this town also smells terribly.

We go shopping.  Shops close for lunch from one until three and stay open until 7 or 8.  The straw market here is something to remember and so very fascinating.  Anything and everything made of straw, even skirts, and so pretty.  Pop and I so tired walking about waiting for shops to reopen that we had to join all and sundry and sit on Town Hall steps in cool shade.  We must have looked funny (to) see the hobo’s round us.  It is frightfully hot here.  We do not like Italy, smelly, dirty.

ROME.

From Florence.

Like Rome, Milan and Florence must have been wonderful once.  We arrive at Rome.  Had a very long drive, 245 miles, not kilometres, and through very primitive villages.  Women doing their washing in dirty creeks and carrying pails of water on their heads and a bundle of wood or something else in either hand.  Donkeys pull the carts which are laden with dry straw or reeds along with father sitting on top and mama trotting along beside him.  In one cart father was driving a very large load of these reeds and mama and young son slipped off and papa went on driving with these two poor souls calling out to him to wait, but with such clamour, as there is on the roads, mama and son just had to run and catch up.  All drivers here drive at about 70 kilometres an hour and use their horn all the way.

I saw very little of Rome, as we were only there on day and it was so very hot that after being ill, I just could not stand the noise and heat so lay in room with blinds and windows closed.  Rome is a wonderful place, full of places of great interest.  The architecture can beat any of England’s hollow.  I am naturally sorry to say so, except the ceiling in England’s churches, nothing could come up to them.  We went for a “see Rome by night”, supposed to be from 9.30 until quarter to 12.  We started at quarter to 10 and stopped at Rome’s Soho for wine, half hour.  Pop and I sat in coach and waited half hour next on to the best night club.  We were not even dressed suitably for it and had to sit for an hour.  We made a bit of a fuss and were driven round about four places twice and then back to hotel, £1-0-0 each.  Of course the huge coach was full of younger people and Americans and they were not interested in old historic buildings.

Rome, Italy

We could have had a taxi for half of the money and seen much more.  I was so very disappointed as I have always been interested in old Roman history and it would have been so familiar to me.  We were piloted into Rome and now we have been piloted out of it and have reached our last place of our trip.  We had a long hot drive again today but on a straight road shaded by trees, but of course, Naples is hotter than Rome.  We are on a corner of hotel where trams again nearly hit the corner of hotel and across the road is Railway Station.  I am so glad to leave Italy.  It has really spoiled the last part of our trip.  The country is such a hard country to work.  I think the farmers have a terribly hard lot making a success of it.  All the family seem to help also.  Washing even in the Italian Riviera is strung along the walls or on fences blowing against trams as they pass.  The hotel’s (mainly) are very badly run and dirty, the waiters’ white coats and bows(?) are very soiled.  The rate of unemployed is terrific.  One lad wants me to try and get someone to sponsor him out to Australia.  How can I?  Such a nice chap.  Blue eyes and red hair.  Orphan.

NAPLES, CALLED NAPOLI.  16-9-54.

Naples, Italy

We had to drive 2 miles between(?) carbide pits.  Carbide of all smells.

Pop is out trying to make final arrangements re Zephyr car and loading it onto Orsova on the 20^th.  The Agents said we could use it until day before sailing but Pop firmly said ‘no’.  They could have it from now on.  He says he never wants to drive again and looks as though he means it, so tired out.  4,678 miles, no wonder!

The people have tried to help us to find our way in and out of cities and some have jumped on their cycles and piloted up in front quite a long way and others have got into our car and shown us to our hotels and then they themselves had to train it back again but two different groups of Italians looked at our G.B. (Great Britain) plate and said, “Anglaise, huh!!”, and sent us in the wrong direction but we suspected them and so did not go far.  All foreign countries pronounced Australia “Orstraalya”.

Whilst parked outside hotel at Naples a few men cruised round car after seeing Pop get out and, seeing his one arm, they had to poke their faces right into window to see how he drove and were very interested and so are any children who see him driving.

Naples.  Somerset Maugham says, “The most depraved city in all Europe.”  See Naples and die and glad to.

Naples, Italy

The dirtiest and most overcrowded trams that I have ever seen.  Pop and I are really starving for food and at present he is ill.  Thank goodness, God willing, we board our ship S.S. Orsova tomorrow, 20/9/54 at 11am.  These four days have really dragged terribly.  We refuse to go out, everything too revolting and weather so hot.

We are facing large railways station and square where taxis and horses and buggies park.  The horses bring the flies and help add to smell and trams and cars and huge wagons rush past our window ringing bells and tooting horns.

Ground floor of hotel really superb but there luxury ends completely.  People have raved about Naples.  They must have been blotto and even advised us to take a trip from hotel.  11 hour trip to Island of Capri £3 per head.  After seeing the Italian Riviera, I just don’t believe it is lovely!!

After so much delay, we board our ship at Naples and it would be hard for anyone to even imagine how thankful we were to feel that, at last, we could sleep in fresh clean cabin between clean sheets and eat clean food, even though it is badly cooked as seems usual on ships.  Good food, spoilt passengers, a very mixed crowd so different to “Ceramic”.  Ten doctors, one “Lady”, one “Hon.” And others could be wealthy milk men, builders or estate agents considering them as a type.

Whilst looking at the men, who seem to be able to eat and drink quite a lot at any time and late hours and strenuous games, I am glad that Pop looks so straight and clear eyed and without bulges.  Before we embarked at Naples we had to go through different offices to sign for car, have our passports examined and, believe me, with all of Naples’ poverty these offices and wharf are something in very modern architecture.  This building was really wonderful and spacious and clean and well equipped.  I was amazed.

We met our friend from Perth who decided to come on this ship after inquiring if we were booked on her.  There is no quiet spot to go to on this ship.  One cannot even snooze on deck as chairs are continually being scraped back and forth.  The lift boy on ship is very amused as he says.  Wives are always looking for their husbands and latter always looking for their wives.  Unless one arranges to meet somewhere one could miss out seeing friends for couple of days, as there are two sittings for meals.

Passengers who embarked at Port Said (horrible place, we went ashore for half an hour, natives dirty and a nuisance and when selling their ware, saying ‘cheap at half the price’ and calling any woman passenger, “lady Sydney, Mrs Lady.  Hello Sydney buy wee rug etc.” and one calling himself Wee McTavish.  But the heat was unbearable, we only purchased a sewing basket for R. Tremaine.  To return to passengers who embarked at Port Said and Naples.  We have been invited to cocktail party tonight.  We will attend but as soon as our name is called out we shall walk in one door and out the other for too hot.  But for the air-conditioning Pop and I could not have stood the heat.  My(?) special dry heat and Purser each day, over megaphone, warning passengers against drinking iced drinks and sunbaking and to take more salt during humidity.

Just through partition near my bed is someone (a man) ill with gout in bed and I can him using his knife and fork.  He has to have his meals in bed.  I wish he did not have to cough up so often.

24-9-54 Mr and Mrs A Keeling on board.  (My note: I have no idea who the Keelings are.)

25-9-54

We passed through Canal and how hot and terrifying the desert looks, so sizzling and hot, but at Port Suez, the town very populated with modern houses and flats and, I guess, shops.  In fact it looked very nice.

We had to wait five hours in heat to allow a convoy of oil tankers pass through Canal.  Strange no seagulls yet!  Saw camel and caravan in distance.  English airmen rowed out in boat to talk to passengers.  They only had khaki shorts on and berets, some minus berets and the men as brown as copper yet so jolly.  Cannot imagine them being able to smile camped in this awful place.

Poor Pop tramped through this country during 1914-1918 war.  1 pint of water a day to wash, shave and clean teeth.

Aden

Sunday went ashore for two hours.  Bought shirt for Malcolm, Ron and Bill, two pairs, ½ slippers for Bev and Marg and 2 blouses for myself.  How Aden smelt.  Natives so devoid of surplus fat that you can nearly see through them, mostly tall features not heavy, looking very starve and poor.  Goats roaming among traffic looking for scraps of food.  Heat terrific and I cannot imagine a place more barren, how sorry I feel for anyone, black or white, who is compelled to live there.  Camels looking their weird and ungainly appearance even though they hold their heads so proudly.  Shops well stocked, blouses, camers(?) and shirts only bargains.  Shops without windows mostly, natives serving, can speak English fairly well.

SS ORSOVA.

Our ship Orsova, Aden

Would never travel on her again.  Plenty games and entertainment for passengers but food horrible.  Most enticing looking menu but chicken raw in fact, rice gooey, uncooked, sweets impossible.  The ship collects its salad ingredients from Italy and Colombo.

COLOMBO, SRI LANKA.

We should arrive at Colombo Thursday 30-9-54, tomorrow at 10am, depart midnight.

Poor dirty natives had to help us onto launch.  I tried not to shudder when they grasped my bear arms but they were kindly and so we have been ashore at Colombo.  Shops mostly with dark interior but a few very modern ones with lifts.  Some beautiful silk dress material but Pop and I did not like touching it.  Possibly it was expensive.   Place smelt very unpleasant and beggars crawling along footpath on three limbs and one stump of leg, little mites of children with such mischievous grins, begging.  These, Pop could not refuse and one poor lamb met up with us again and made me take a Frangipani and gave me such a happy smile.  What do they live on?  Do they work?  Such numbers roaming listlessly about the street with their filthy dirty white robes and turbans.  Passengers raving about the place.  I could not live even near them.  The footpaths are covered with the remains of the betel nut!!

Went into one jeweler shop just looking and met an Indian who, to my surprise, mentioned a man in Melbourne, a wealthy antique jeweler whose wife I used to stay with.  This shop has a pair of Kozminsky diamond and sapphire earrings for £6-0-0.  However, Pop could not take any more of darkies, filth and heat, neither could I and so we came back to ship and bought a pink(?) elephant from boats and 1/6(?) fan.

We had arrived on ship from Italy hungry and are still hungry.  We could not eat our meals were it not for our glass of beer.

Every time one native saw me on deck he would grin up from boat and say, “How much you give Madam?”  When he persisted in sending up things on rope to the boat I had to clap my hands and say, “No”.  The darkies who come out in numerous boats to bargain.  It is rather awful this haggling but I believe it is the only method they have of doing business.  He wanted 30/- (no) 25/- (no) £1-0-0 (no) 15/- yes and earlier he had sold one elephant for 10/- but poor beggars, they do work hard to sell their goods and I really think they enjoy bargaining.  It is said they do.  If only they did not get under your feet and hem one in so, it would not be quite so irritating.  Pop tells them to scram.  Of course, outside the city it is, I hear, very beautiful.  I can believe.  I am now in bed, 8.30, and so Goodbye Colombo.

Sunday 4^th October 1954 – We are on SS Orsova and we attend picture show film called “Calamity Jane”.  (Rubbish).  Last Sunday it was a murder picture.  Very uplifting films on this ship!!

This ship is not at all tastefully furnished.  Colouring hard on the eyes or depressing with the exception of one coffee lounge, which is furnished in a rather dark green and looked inviting during trip through tropics.  One room red.  Cannot get a perm on this ship only shampoo and set.

Passengers mostly pastoral people but not the polo playing type, but hard-working looking people.  Very natural and nice folk mostly.  Some Jewish people who spent most days in elaborate shop on ship and finally paid a bill for £400 for jewelry.  Shop always crowded and this seemed so strange to me that these passengers had so much cash left after travelling over nearly every country in the world and it is no longer cheap to indulge in much globetrotting.

Ship badly organized other than of sports and entertainments, which were excellent for people of all ages.

Furnishings not at all easy on the eyes.  A comfortable sailing ship and does not pitch or roll.  Stabilizers used.  Very regular and strict crew drill.  If passengers were caught in toilet or bath they had to stay in cabin until drill over as fireproof doors closed etc.

I was one of them, very funny!!

Calm voyage.

END OF WRITTEN DIARY.

 

Greenie’s additional notes on the hotels and guest houses in which they stayed.

First spot and hotel to stay at in England was Grand Hotel, Plymouth.  Good – Plymouth Hoe.

Platt’s Hotel, Bath. Moderate.

Knutsford, England, Ye Angel Hotel.  3 weeks very nice country town and hotel and food.

Guest House at Keswick just north from the Lakes, Windemere, called “Brackenrigg”.  Miss Horton, very inexpensive, very clean and nicely cooked meals, quiet and lovely, no electricity but twilight until 11pm. May – June.

Troon, Scotland, Craiglea Hotel.  Good.

Edinburgh, Claremont Hotel.  Very poor.  4 large Alsatian dogs kept in kitchen.

Returning to London.

Catterick Bridge Hotel.  Food poor otherwise all else lovely.

English Garden Hotel.  Everything and people very nice.

Nexxt stop London.

Lists of other places where we stayed at on another page.

Hotels England.

Ivanhoe (two nights).  Comfortable, food awful.

Guest House 198 Cromwell Road, S.W.S.  Very comfortable, food excellent, stayed seven weeks.

France.

Hotel Balmoral.  2 days, 3 nights.  Comfortable (no food).

Burssels.Hotel Bedfort. 3 nights, 2 days.  Not to be recommended.  We had splendid meals at “Tavern Royale” in Royale Arcade there.  Beautiful undies, furs, laces, vases and china etc.

Germany.  Hotel Furstenhoff, 4 days, comfortable, good meals.

Oarmstatte Hotel, Straube.  One night, comfortable, nice meals.

Freiberg, one night, comfortable, food moderate.

Holland.

Amsterdam, Hotel American 3 nights, 2 days.  Clean and very good hotel and lovely.  Food very good, beside canal.

Switzerland.

Zurich.  Hotel St. Gotthard. Eight days, very ccomfortable, clean and very good food.

Italy.

Como.  Hotel Metropole Swisse.  4 days.  Comfortable, food moderate.

Rapallo.  Stayed at friend’s villa two nights.  Italian Riviera.  Nice people, nice home.  I was very ill here

Florence.  Hotel Albergo Mineerva.  Comfortable, food poor.

Rome.  Hotel Imperali  One day, two nights, uncomfortable, food poor.

Naples.  Hotel Terminus.

Our ship Orsova.

Cabin good and comfy but food and bedrooms poor.  From Como to Sydney we drank beer at meals to induce appetite for food.  We were starving almost from Como.  The poverty in Italy will haunt me for ever.

At France (Paris) we had a mad chauffeur.  At Brussels also (chauffeur) not quite so mad.

All drive on the motor horn and at first I found it rather nerve racking.

Most uncomfortable driving in small car over cobbles at 80 to 90 kilometres an hour.

Saw Leaning Tower of Pisa but have forgotten where it is, near “La Spezzia”, Italy I guess.  It has a frighteningly list on it and nearby buildings lovely architecture.

Saw Eiffel Tower in France, very wonderful and surrounding lawn of flowers give it a lovely effect.  One 17 year old boy climbed the Tower one night.  Also saw building where Major Jean Longchamp flew his R.?.?. (Hawker Typhoon) plane at it and machined it and killed eleven Germans.  Bullet holes to be seen very clearly.

There are more photos of the trip, however, the blog is long and I may put these up at a later date.

I hope you enjoyed my grandparent's trip now almost seventy years in the past.

END.