Innocents Abroad

24 - London and Teddy Boys

Big Ben under scaffolding

Wednesday, 25 May 1955 

Breakfast not bad, not good, and the dining room certainly nicer than our room. Bought a great Aquascutum raincoat in London from a pompous salesman. Notice quite a lot of disdain for us in the shops. Ruth buying out the store at Liberty’s. She had heard from Pat, the Australian nurse, that everyone has tea at Lyon’s. We did. It was pretty bad. Dinner at a Greek restaurant, Hellenique, where it was very obvious that they don’t like Yanks. Indifferent Greek food, lousy service, cheap prices, but a total waste of time.

Saw and enjoyed The Boy Friend at Wyndham’s Theater starring one of Julie Andrews' replacements as she toured the States. We have inner circle seats for about US$ 4.00. We could see everything very well and up close. Everyone rushes out as soon as the play is over (it wasn’t that bad!) and hurtles down speedy and steep escalators into the subway. These guys are in more of a rush than New Yorkers!

 

The men seem to do a lot of posing. Military uniforms are everywhere but most of them are on parking lot attendants and messengers, complete with chevrons and fruit salad. They don’t seem friendly to each other either and charge the air with their umbrellas as if they were wielding bayonets at an unruly crowd in Belfast.

Right, "Teddy Boys" had an Edwardian uniform of their own. They favored brocaded vests, pipe-stem trousers and swung heavy key chains in a menacing manner. They were definitely to be avoided, as they overran London and the cities of the industrial north.

25 - London

London, The City

 Thursday, 26 May 1955 

At breakfast we always see many Middle Eastern and Asian men in British-style uniforms with red tabs on their lapels. This morning there are two Asians weighing luggage for their impending flights. The scales are in stones, not pounds. The landlady told them a stone was 20 pounds. I thought it was 14, so I butted in, stepped on the scales and got a reading somewhere around 11 stone so they were pleased that they could make the weight at the terminal. [Personal baggage had a weight limit in those days.]

Went alone to see a Mr. Eltham at the Society of Industrial Artists. He’s a very cheerful and friendly guy who tried for a half hour on the phone to connect me with some of the people I wanted to see. Mostly everyone was away for Whitsuntide holidays. [I can’t believe I thought I might get to see Ronald Searle, Edward Ardizzone, and other top dogs–what was I thinking?] Mr. Eltham arranged for me to meet Peter Kneebone, a young writer and cartoonist, at a pub in Davies Street for a drink at six. Ruth and I discover pubs and have a good lunch at the Albert, then take a circular tour of London. We see the spectacular work of Christopher Wren, who also did buildings in Boston. We are taken aback when we see the destruction of Cheapside and Soho, still plenty of rubble from the days of the Blitz. St. Mary Le Bow and others remain just a shell. 

Walked through St. James Green past Buckingham Palace where we see guards stomping their heels every time they rear march. Not too impressive, mostly pimply face kids.

They don’t look anything like those 82nd Airborne troopers whom we saw every morning running in formation at Pine Camp [later Fort Drum, NY]. Had two pilsners at the Hog in the Pound looking for Peter Kneebone.

All the while he’s sitting behind us looking for us, but of course neither of us knows how to recognize the other. He finally approaches us as the obvious foreigners and we chat for some time about selling cartoons to magazines. Told him about the single page spread I did for True and the $200 I got for it. He said he only got £25 for a double-page spread in British Vogue. He’s off to Vienna and says we’ll really love France and the continent. Laments the price paid for cartoons in England not much more than it was 20 years ago. We walk and walk, looking for a place to have dinner. Settle on a greasy spoon-type Italian restaurant, where the waitress was from Florence and we all got to speak Italian. Peter had been an officer in the Royal Navy during WWII and had worked with the Italian Navy after their surrender to the Allies. Sad to say, Peter departed this life in 1990.

26 - London, Hampton Court

 Friday, 27 May 1955 

After a dismal breakfast of kippers, went to Waterloo Station for the bus to Hampton Court. Turned out to be the wrong bus but we saw the grounds for the 1951 Festival of Britain. Then to Victoria Station and a bus for Hampton Court, a two-story palace which was a gift to Cardinal Wolsey from King Henry VIII. Architect Christopher Wren did the renovations so it’s not too horrible for a Gothic pile of dirty bricks. The grounds are great, beautiful beds of flowers and lovely formal gardens. It has the oldest grape vine in the world, so they say. 

 

 
 

 
Inside, the State chambers are hung with many bad paintings all numbered directly on the canvas. The first thing you see are bright white numerals. There are some Tintorettos and cartoons for paintings by Mantegna. A painter named Ricci must have sold George III a bill of goods. Awful stuff, dirty, badly restored—retouched is the more appropriate term—and terribly hung.

Another big disappointment is Windsor Castle where we had a fast tour through the royal apartment where the rugs were rolled up and the furniture covered. A Van Gogh and a Holbein (Henry VIII) but lots of armor and weapons, nothing for us to get enthusiastic about. At least the paintings were not numbered. 

Coldstream Guards are outside stomping their heels.

 

 

We escape on a bus that takes forever to get back to Victoria by way of the airport. Dinner with Pat, our Australian nurse friend. Ruth asks her about the heavily made-up younger girls she’s seen with dumpy older men. “Are they all kept?” she asks. “No, dear, they’re whores,” Pat replies.

27 - London and National Gallery

Saturday, 28 May 1955

Left in rain at 11 or so to visit the National Gallery. Some really nice paintings to be seen. Many early Renaissance, Raphael [Sanzio] looked particularly good in the originals, better than the reproductions we knew. Tiepolo's wonderful Trojan horses, lots of action. Other Venetian—Canaletto, very startling and impressive. Michelangelo's piece half-finished. Good Hogarths, Holbeins, Turners, one good Vander Weyden, Rembrandts, El Grecos. Took the no. 88 bus to the Tate. Better gallery, more modern works: English new and old. Good sculpture, notably Rodin, Malliol, Moore, Degas, Giacometti, Manzù, Epstein, Butler, and others. There was even a good full-length portrait of George Washington by Gilbert Stuart. Couldn't find Max Beerbohm, but not bad considering our lack of time. Very well done gallery and an excellent restaurant!

Met Pat for tea at the Tate and took a bus to Knightsbridge to walk along "smart" antique shops but pretty much a letdown. Not too much taste visible in decor or merchandising. Antique prices as high as in the US in some categories. 

Teddy Boy and victim, as drawn in my notebook with a ball point pen

Underground to Hyde Park Corner and back to New Yorker for dinner, but worse tonight. Other coffee shops nearby but no hot meals. Loafing Teddy Boys seem to be interested in doing nothing but ogling passersby. Pat says they dress up in Edwardian style clothes and bust up dances and social gatherings.

28 - London, Peter Kneebone

Sunday, 29 May 1955

Missed breakfast (no great loss), slept right through to noon. Listened to the BBC and anxious news of the rail strike. Phoned Victoria Station and Thomas Cook about getting out to Newhaven, no one will guarantee transportation. Long queues at bus stops for this Whitsun Holiday. 

Took the tube to Piccadilly about 2. No place to eat but Lyons Tearoom open, the usual slops there, then bus to Victoria Coach Station. The line for booking office about a mile long. We got in enquiries line looking for a bus alternative to Newhaven but booked up for Monday, our departure day for France and Paris.

The Victoria Station Continental Travel Office were more optimistic, tell us that the boat train ran yesterday. Optimistic. 

Tube to Warwick Road Station for tea with Peter Kneebone and friends, an English couple,. They leave and we invite Peter to dinner to a nearby Norwegian restaurant run by a tough-talking woman with dangling cigarette. Food not bad but place a sty. She claims that the Polish artist, Felix Topolski, always eats there. Also Christopher Fry and Nancy Mitford. 

Peter gave us a copy of a book which he wrote and illustrated, shown here. We missed the last tube train, took a taxi back to our room.

 

 

 

    Artwork by Peter Kneebone through the years

29 - London, Royal Academy

Monday 30 May 1955

Beautiful day, about 70°F. in sun, clear skies. Got out around ten to take day bus tour somewhere but when we arrived at Victoria Station, hordes of people were there trying to get home by bus because of the rail strike. Walked through to Marble Arch and sat on bench soaking up sun as much as we could. 

Then on to Grosvenor Park to take 35mm
Kodachromes of Franklin D. Roosevelt statue. Walked on window shopping towards Park Lane. On way to Grosvenor had seen steady stream of people going through to St. James Green. Apparently there was a cricket match going on. Everyone out walking with the kids because of good holiday weather. 

Found Schubert Lounge, an Austrian restaurant. Good food and coffee. Good looking hostess, who looked like actress Lilli Palmer, turned out to be Italian after all.

Strolled up to Piccadilly and took in summer exhibit of the Royal Academy. Winston  Churchill paintings not bad at all. Some nice prints by others for sale at £3.3 and £4.4. Good turnout of locals, 2 shilling admission takes care of student tuition—good idea.

  

 

 

 

German actress Lilli Palmer 1914-1986

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

30 - London - Trooping the Colour

Sunday, 31 May 1955

Left Courtland Hotel, took cab to Victoria Station. Checked bags. Asked bobby directions to St. James Station and he had us walking all over town. Dublin cops much more pleasant and helpful than this guy. Finally found London Transport Offices where we bought five posters [see examples]. Waited in a long line at Thomas Cook, but no word on trains or our return tickets on the French Liberte. We'll have to find out about all this in Paris. 

Got a much-needed haircut. Barber splashed on tonic and for a two shilling, sixpence up charge. He saw this Yank a patsy. 

Not a chance for lunch so beat it down to Trafalgar Square and Strand to meet with Frank Mercer, editor at Modern Publicity, a UK publication that features the best in worldwide graphics and advertising. A very kind elderly man who eventually did include some of my work in subsequent editions. He had visited Boston every year before the war from 1931-1939. Told me East Anglia much better place to visit than the cities here, not hard to believe.

Checked in at Glencourt Hotel in Kensington. Very nice. Long hot baths, clean twin beds. Ruth stayed in doing her hair, I grabbed a bite to eat at Las Vegas snack bar. Not bad, a college crowd, same everywhere. Black jerseys and Levis: Indians, other asians, and continentals, plus a couple of American (or Canadian) girls. 

Rang up Victoria Station at 10:30. Booking for train looks good for tomorrow.

 

  Charles Burton, Trooping the Color, 1930.

31- Finally, Paris!

Wednesday, 1 June 1955

Enjoyed a good breakfast at Glen Court before leaving for the Newhaven train at 10:05. While waiting at Left Luggage to pick up our bag, I observed a very impatient Brit acting like one of us. The porter and I had a good laugh about that. I'm finding now that only a little bit of self-deprecating humor goes a long way with everyone except pompous toffs–and cops. Our train turns out to be half-empty. Got on board the Newhaven-Dieppe s.s. Lisieux ferry after British customs inspection. Passengers had most seats taken with coats and umbrellas, but we had the good fortune to sit next to architect Reginald Bull and his equally charming wife. After a chat about my admiration for the British cartoonist Carl Giles, we dined with them later in the salon. It was a very good meal with two beers and tip for Fr. 800, or just over $2.00. 

   

Major Bull kindly mailed me a current compilation of Giles cartoons.This is the cover from a later year. 

We left the chalk cliffs of Newhaven for the same cliffs but with different buildings in Dieppe, the scene of a World War II  commando raid where almost 1,000 Canadian soldiers were killed and almost 2,000 captured. We moved our baggage to the Paris boat train with some anxious moments because of unreserved seats. We shared a compartment with two English girls on a ten-day trip to Mallorca;  two Scots women from Glasgow and a Swiss girl who had been in England for a year. All very friendly, which made for a very pleasant entry into Paris.

The weather is warm and the skies beautiful. We are truly happy to be in France. Paris came as a complete surprise and the Hotel Saint-Romain is delightful, clean and comfortable. A smiling young woman carries up our four bags. Our hotel couldn't be better situated. It's in the 1er arrondissement, near the Tuileries and the Rue de Rivoli.

Ruth was ecstatic: "What Heaven!" she wrote to my parents. I added, "Please thank Viola J. for us—really it was a godsend. It's hard to find a good place on foot. Thomas Cook and American Express are almost as bad as taxi drivers for sending you to scurvy places." Today, it's a 4-star hotel that we could not even consider. Our bill for seven nights, including wonderful breakfasts of crisp rolls and croissants with homemade jams and coffee or chocolate, cost us $6 per night. Now it's a four-star hotel and would cost over $200.  

Alas, I must stop here. There are many weeks to go and the drawings eventually get better. I'll post some of them as we travel along. The summer has finally arrived, and with it seemingly endless garden chores we've put off while recovering from poorly timed coughs and cold infections that had made their way up the east coast.

Thanks for listening and the generous comments.