Shortly after getting married, Nicholas and Sarah Harding went on the Queen Mary to New York where they worked for several months. On 2nd December 1965 they set off on the trip that is described here, arriving back in England on 4th February 1968.
Clicking on the dates below should bring up what she wrote for each date.
This diary was written by Sarah Harding during a journey made with her husband, Nicholas between 2.12.1966 and 4.2.68. On 22.12.66 and 27.1.66 the diary was stolen so had to be written retrospectively. Occasionally Nicholas made short contributions, which are in italics. No diary has been found for the period 18.7.66 to 15.9.66. A very few edits were made to adjust colloquialisms and omit unnecessary personal matters. Headings should refer to where each night was spent (the day may well have been spent mainly in a different country).
It took a long time clearing up all our junk in our apartment and taking pictures of Eeyore and Mimi and planting out the plant. The apartment was left in a really lousy condition and we set off with our car really loaded up and found my wallet in the camera shop. We cashed the cheque in the Chase Manhattan Bank and saw Shelagh and set off through the Holland Tunnel becoming lost and had a very very dull day. We stopped in Carlisle and ate fish on our primus which worked well except the car stank of fish and primus fuel. Our first night was comfortable. We had wanted to spend it by Opossum Lake, but went in the wrong direction. In the early evening we went through Harrisburg, a sedate and pretty town, and got lost getting out, going miles along one side of a shallow river and having to come all the way back on the other side when we found a bridge to cross.
We started off an hour before it got light and had some difficulty finding the way. Soon we got into hilly country and went on to small roads into Kentucky and West Virginia which are full of derelict coal mines and the small roads wind up and down hills and through small villages, some deserted and all grey and isolated. We stopped in a sort of rubbish dump in a clearing by the side of the road on top of a hill. After nearly getting stuck in the mud, we walked round to a restaurant 200 yards down the road and drank coffee. A man with a broken-down car came in – his car was boiling over but he still tried to drive it.
We left a little later this morning and continued through the same Appalachian country. Hazard was too far from the route so we didn’t go through it. West Virginia was the same as Kentucky and it was quite a relief when we suddenly came out of the hills onto the wide straight roads of Tennessee. We filled up with gas at a very cut-rate place near a national park and walked round Knoxville, a prosperous large town with the usual main street full of bank buildings and jewellery shops. We drove to the top of a very long hill on the Memphis road and slept in a pull in.
We woke early on top of the mountain and all morning was spent on a dreadfully dull motorway to Memphis, a really nice town and up to expectations. We wrote Richard a PC and wandered through the dead empty streets, it was Sunday afternoon. We saw river boats stationery on the river which was wide and very nice and ghastly Baptist army boys wandering around. We saw a poor woman dying in a gas station and set off for Mississippi, reaching abominable narrow roads and cotton fields and woods. We had mugs of soup and N had nearly a whole tin of beef stew for our supper. We drove on into Arkansas and miles into a field, where we spent the night.
Four dogs came and visited us when we were having our porridge by the Mississippi. It was a nice drive to Texas and we heard fantastically stupid programmes on the wireless – we stopped in a quiet white town with a courthouse in the middle and drove into Texas and the roads were deserted and flat. We had a delicious supper of fish fingers by a river and our wireless got amazing far away stations.
I drove for miles along straight, dull, Texan roads with huge fields of cacti with disappointingly few cattle. It got excessively hot and I drove at 80mph. We had a very long breakfast of hotcakes flavoured with grit in Loredo. We visited AAA, changed money and spent quite a long time in the Customs dept, a Mexican typed very slowly and gave us the wrong name. There were a couple of boys who had no passport and were planning to walk round the border, a long way, as we passed a check point about 20 miles into Mexico. It was very much as I remembered it from last time, straight wide roads, with cacti and blue mountains in the distance which one never seemed to reach. We cooked our supper, soup and a truck driver visited us and tried either to buy or sell us a tyre. We had a drink in a funny little place and spent the night just outside Monterrey.
A truck had got stuck in the road as we woke just outside Monterrey. Fortunately, our car got out easily and we entered Monterrey just as everyone was going to work. We parked the car after some difficulty and walked around having our first café con leche. Monterrey is a very touristy town, hundreds of shops selling Mexican type things you see in New York. We saw a parade of tiny children, something to do with Guadalupe on the way out of the city. We turned up a tiny side road and saw our first tiny Mexican village, little boys on donkeys and huge bunches of deep purple clematis hanging on houses. We joined the main road and further on made another detour to a very peaceful clean town right up in the mountains – a very long and perilous drive. We sat in the square which had lovely roses growing in it and took a picture of the church and tried to take a picture of a stationary donkey. We re-joined the main road after more mountainous driving. The country became extremely dull, only cacti to remove the boredom. When darkness fell we realized we were running low on gas and had a faintly exciting drive to find a gas station. A fox ran across the road and it was quite hot.
Nicholas thought it was raining so we moved off early and visited an Indian village right up in the mountains – the streets were running mud and we bought a very solid, almost uneatable piece of dough from a little boy. As we drove off, we saw vultures eating a poor pig. We stopped by the side of the road and cooked coffee, as it was our old instant coffee it tasted disgusting. We lost height and came down into a jungly valley, very warm, with jungle noises and tropical looking birds. We saw our first Mexican cattle and took pictures. Then we joined the main road and had tamales for lunch, afterwards coming into an orange and tangerine area and we bought lovely tangerines. Nicholas met two boys and they followed us over the mountains covered in mist, progress was slow and troupes of Mexicans were walking up and down the hills. We eventually arrived at a prosperous little town, Nicholas felt the beginning of d? and we drove up a little hill and slept, surrounded by barking dogs.
We woke quite early and our antics were watched by people from behind a cactus. We drove along a dusty road by the side of harvested wheat fields. The mountains in the distance. We reached Mexico City by midday and had an exhausting time parking the car. We walked to the Hilton where I had a pee. It was quickly realized ? should not be worn. We visited the Guatemalan Consulate and the Tourist Bureau and it was through them we found a dear little hotel called Dankery? Near the centre of the city and our room was at the top of a fire escape and as the American said, had character. We decided to stay 7 days as there seemed a lot to see and we had to wait for our cable from Guatemala. The streets are very wide and one seems constantly to be crossing them in great peril.
The water surprisingly was hot and we had a major wash before setting off for an intensive sightseeing tour. We slowly made our way to the large square and went inside the cathedral which was very impressive and was filled with queues of people having their children christened. They were all given certificates and then we saw Indian dancing, old ladies being very energetic and men beating tiny drums. Next, we visited the Presidential Palace which was disappointing, there were curios and ugly frescoes, all the people had extraordinary noses. After lunch we went to the National shop which had some really, lovely jewellery, all very expensive it seemed. We were exhausted and I walked back on the way meeting an American boy called Jack, we took him along to our hotel and he decided to stay in the room opposite ours.
We waited for hours for the boy to turn up to come to Guadalupe with us and before we left, had an expensive cup of coffee. It was very hot and we watched Indian dancing and trekked inside the church and saw people on their knees to pay homage to the Lady of Guadalupe. We walked up endless steps and saw the shrine and then hurried back and drove for miles to?? Finding the boys bull fight. We met a trio of very young boys in the evening, one of whom was nice and could speak atrocious English and not understand a word we said. We went to a square with grass and trees in the middle and saw Mexican singing groups of men and ? with guitars. We had foul chicken in an enormous sort of market and went back to Hotel Dankey and met in the passage a very strange boy who was nervous and giggled for hours. He was avoiding the draft and was on his way to Australia.
In the morning we visited the Guatemalan, Nicaraguan and Honduran embassies. The cable had not arrived back from Guatemala and we have an exhausting time. We go back to our hotel to rest and the wet boy comes along, and we decided to go off to see “the Love Cage?” which was bad though good entertainment. Then he introduced us to San ? and we went to bed after retrieving my dark glasses from the first boy and heard his stories of how he was meeting the underworld etc and playing an endless game of cheat with the wet boy who we were becoming bored of.
We went to collect our letters, Nicholas had one from NADCO and I had a Christmas card and a couple of letters. I am very bad tempered, and Nicholas goes off with the Mexican boy and his friends, driving for ages through the park to an old monastery which we walked round and also the surrounding countryside where there was a river and a lot of fish. Then we ate rice and went back. On the way we were searched by police for fir trees which might have been stolen for Xmas trees. When we got back, Sarah had improved and we read our books. The wet boy attacked us and we went to bed quite happily.
We walked to collect our letters from Wells Fargo and Nicholas is very worried as he did not have a letter. It is a very long walk back to our hotel and we feel exhausted and have lunch before lying on our bed waiting for the nice Mexican boy to arrive. We are relieved he arrived without his friends and set off down Insurgentes to have the car’s carburettors cleaned in a very seedy little place. Then we set off to the Pyramids, along the same road as we came in to Mexico City. We made very slow progress along the road as it was crawling with oxen and donkeys and children playing in the dust. We turned off the road and saw Popocatepetl in the distance. It was nearly twilight when we arrived at the Pyramids and we set off to climb one of highest ones. They were unimpressive but it was nice climbing up all the steps to the top, we saw a huge black beetle sitting on one of the steps. The Pyramids were built by the Indians. We arrived back in Mexico by the toll road and had an inadequate though expensive meal before saying goodbye to the Mexican boy who was rather rich and his father has three cattle ranches and he is going to Beverley Hills tomorrow. We met the wet boy and had a drink of coke with him before going to bed.
We had a lazy day and did very little. We drank delicious jugos and were followed around by the wet boy for a long time. We read the books in San? And slept in the afternoon. In the evening we wandered around by the Cathedral and along back streets, home past lots of tiny shops and had tortes of veal in our usual place. We packed and went to bed.
Our departure from Mexico City was delayed by the car refusing to start. With the help of the wet boy we found a garage who charged a lot to mend it, but it went perfectly afterwards, the acceleration much improved. We left Mexico City on a lovely road, Popocatepetl and its sister in the distance, capped by snow. We drove in great heat up and down mountains and we feared our car would overheat. We passed lots of labouring trucks and a little black Volkswagen overtook us and showed great interest in us and the man got out and offered to show us round the corners. He drove very extravagantly up and down hills and stopped at a restaurant where he gave us coke, he drank ? and it was not long before we realised he was an alcoholic. He had won £20,000 in a lottery and lived a life of gambling and women or so he told us with a priest as his confessor. Nicholas saw our gas tank was spouting petrol and Eddie Sanchez filled the holes with wax – and we were very thankful to have found him. We stopped several times to Puebla, having drinks and he gave us apple juice which he called champagne. We spent the evening in two bars, accompanied by a man like a teddy bear. We drank gin and funny lemon and had quite an amusing time – we spent the night in an expensive hotel.
We both had violent hangovers and Nicholas bounced around very early in the morning and I could get no sleep. Eddie Sanchez called and proved not to be taking us swimming etc so really was a dead loss. We took our car to a garage to have the gas tank mended with the aid of a nice parking lot man and we were a little wary of the garage. We went to the bank and I was feeling really seedy until we had a delicious torte. Puebla we both liked but didn’t see much of. We went round several bars with Sanchez, who failed to amuse us and we found him fairly tedious. In one bar we came across two very drunk Mexicans who bought me quantities of red and white carnations and eventually went off in one taxi to collect the car. Nicholas was given a calendar of a naked lady and we were pleased with the car. The hotel bill was outrageous and left Puebla. Popocatepetl was in the distance and we drove through warm, flat country, with high green plants which we could not identify. We spent a fairly comfortable night.
An old peasant lady watched us while getting up and eventually asked for some money. We had an enormous saucepan of porridge for breakfast and started off for Oaxaca, it was very hot and we passed people going to church and groups of brightly coloured goats and donkeys. We gave a very old man and a child in a bright red dress a lift. The soil turned deep red and we descended into a wide red valley and entered Oaxaca, an attractive town with narrow streets and many white churches. We walked through a very poor looking market and spent most of the afternoon in the main square which was filled with people, a few Americans who obviously lived in the town and we thought were writing books after DH Lawrence. At twilight we started a search for a cheap hotel but met with complete failure after visiting most hotels in the city – we had coffee and met a nice lady who sent us just outside the town to her father’s drive in where we had an unfortunate misunderstanding and spent the night by the side of the road instead. Next to trucks.
We woke up on the main road outside Oaxaca. It was a grey morning and quite cold. We drove into the town and bought our insurance which took a long time and had coffee in the company of a round grey cat. We bought buns filled with air, tangerines and a machete and started off climbing up and down steep mountain roads. It got very hot and we stopped at a tiny mountain village and it was all quiet and suddenly a donkey brayed. We climbed even more and saw a river miles down and really green fields with healthy looking Mexican cattle. Eventually we got onto the flat, near the sea and stopped in a colourful little town with a square with very high bushes in the middle and had delicious tortas, though covered in flies. An immense wind started up and we stopped at a check point with an irascible old man. We started to climb again and passed trucks on a fantastically steep narrow road and had a meal, a tin of quite foul beans which we threw away, followed by soup. We walked round a fair in a prosperous little town and had some beer and then drove and spent the night on a triangle. Our last night in Mexico.
Peasants began cutting stalks not far from our car and we got up early and drove into the sun, we went through very tropical looking countryside, all very green with mountains in the near distance. We passed some nice rivers and stopped and had porridge and took our clothes off and paddled around in a river. We saw shoals of tiny fish and little lizards running around on the banks. There was a scaly hairy pig in the water up to his knees and women carrying water. We drove on into great heat and saw a monstrous scaly greyish lizard slowly crossing the road, we think he was an iguana. We reached the customs, along with three boys in two Volkswagens from Costa Rica and an excessively long time was spent, first in the Mexican migration and then in the Guatemalan customs where we stayed till six, waiting to have all our luggage weighed and details taken of our car. We were given a tourist plate and set off in a real downpour and were forced to stop as our windscreen wipers did not work. Steam rose off the road and we had supper in a primitive little town badly lit and very smelly. We passed at least three check points and found a river to spend the night by. It was our first experience of mosquitos.
We were tormented by mosquitos and not woken by the cops as we had expected. We had our breakfast and washed in a lovely river, stared at by ladies who were waiting for their bus. We set off to Guatemala City and saw three volcanoes which seemed to be letting off tiny whiffs of smoke but it could have been cloud. We climbed high and by twelve were in the city and were disappointed in it, it was bleak and had few interesting buildings or streets. I bought a blue ? at great expense and we met three boys who were at the customs and were now trying to sell their car. We had a very unhappy experience; we walked for miles trying to post our letters and when we returned to the car found the side window had been broken and N’s suit, my bag, wireless and washing things had been taken. We were very upset and unhappy but there was little we could do – my diary had gone, combs, safety pin collection etc. We are more disgusted with Guatemala City and leave immediately in drizzle and drive miles having a disastrous meal of hotcakes on the way, I had bought condensed instead of evaporated milk. We spent the night near the Salvador border, by a lagoon and the mosquitos infested our car – I am sick and we have a very bad night.
We were woken and tormented by mosquitos so hurried on to the Salvador border, the sunlight in our eyes, just missed being hit by a truck. We waited in a queue of people and had scrambled eggs for breakfast while waiting to cross the border and were through by nine thirty and on our way to La Libertad. I drove along a twisty road, through tunnels and by the sea. La Libertad is a dear little town and for the first time we felt away from the Yanks. We had a delicious lunch on the beach, sardines in rolls and our first juicy pineapple. We swam and watched two boats slowly unloading cargo onto a tiny boat and gradually it got enormously hot and we had fantastic thirsts so wandered around and had a huge coke down by the docks where cars were being unloaded by the pier and we saw children selling fish and old pathetic men sitting in the shade. Walking back to the square we saw the British Consul having tea on his balcony, with a lady with a Pekingese. We were determined to visit him and found him in his office, a decidedly unpleasant old man dressed from head to toe in white and not at all pleased to see us. We drove to San Salvador, parked our car in a parking lot with a donkey in the corner and met two nice non-English speaking boys who gave us drinks and little things to eat. We drove off, attempting to find a lake in a volcano crater but failed, owing to my inefficiency, so spent the night by the side of the road.
I woke up feeling foul from sunstroke and we realised we had driven miles beyond the lagoon we had planned to find so we drove on., desperately looking for a river to wash and cook by. We drove up and down wooded hills on a good road, over many bridges where the water was dried up and past villages. We bypassed La Union and drove along a very straight road near to the sea until we turned down a tiny road made of red dust which supposedly led to Tamalles? Bay. We drove miles along it, passing people on donkeys and mules. There were a few minute houses with children playing in the dust. Eventually we found the sea and we had arrived at a very large deserted bay with a yellow beach and palm trees. We parked the car and it sank slowly into the sand – however, we went off to swim and just as Nicholas was knee deep in the water, a native came along and said it was ? on account of sharks so we beat a hasty retreat to our car to find it sunk further into the sand and with the aid of a Salvadorian and Nicholas’s ingenuity in using the jack, eventually we were on our way back to La Union where we drank quantities of Pepsi cola and bought a green melon before setting off for the Honduran border where we refused to pay customs fees with great success and spent the night near a nice place where I had a shower and a bug flew down my dress. It was Christmas Eve and we saw a dog and cat mating.
Christmas Day, we ate our breakfast to the sound of church bells and boys in brilliant blue shirts stared at us. We climbed very high into the cold and gave two ladies with washing on their heads a ride up the hill. We passed groups of people in their best clothes and passed a check point where the drunken soldier was drinking out of a coffee pot spout. We reached the capital about noon, a dead, empty place and we met an American who had a ranch on the Caribbean coast. He told us about canning sharks livers and that we could make our fortune in Central America and told us of a good place to eat Christmas dinner. We had delicious steak at a fairly seedy hotel, very deserted and set off along an unpaved road to Danli which took ages. We drove up and down hills and over rivers and past little villages which smelt of incense. We had soup for supper and had a drink where there were some nice little kids playing with their Christmas presents. We spent the night outside Danli, scared of bandits.
It was an exhausting day. We set off to the remote Honduran/Nicaraguan border along an unbelievable road, very narrow with bumps and ruts. We passed the Honduran border and got about ten miles beyond when a rock struck our petrol tank and gas poured forth and it had to be caught in Tropicana jars and water bottles. The natives came out to help and eventually produced some wax and helped ? the road until we decided to retrace our steps. We gave them tins of marmalade and New Yorkers. Suddenly round the corner bounded a porter carrying a suitcase on his shoulder and an Italian with binoculars sweating a long way behind. Some minutes later came a very dark boy who was quite amusing and we gathered the Italian had had trouble in crossing the border, because of smuggling. The Italian implored us to give him a ride which we were unable to do on account of our gas tank. The muffler on the car had gone, otherwise it sounded okay. We reached Danli and paid for a coffee with a tin of marmalade. We drove all the way back to the Honduran capital and had an enormous meal of chop suey. We drove another sixty miles on and spent the night infested by mosquitoes not far from the border either side.
After a terrible night of mosquitoes, we set off for the Nicaraguan border. We had coffee and saw an American family, the father was carrying a Bible. We climbed up mountains and it was sunny and not too hot when we arrived at the border where we had an argument with a surly youth about our visas. We spoke to the Texan and I was very taken aback when he turned out to be a religious fanatic and gave me a dreadful lecture. We escaped and drove off to Managua. We had a flat on the way, it grew hotter and we vainly looked for Lake Nicaragua for a swim; after two fruitless attempts we gave up and continued into the city where we found a friendly gas station and met a Texaco agent who took us round the town in his car and showed us the lagoons for swimming. They were very impressive and were extinct volcano craters and supplied the city with fresh water. Later on in the evening we met a fascinating Egyptian who was doing business in Managua and he spoke with an impeccable English voice and had ridden in the Helsinki Olympics. He had with him a very young Austrian. He gave us supper and a shower, cold in his hotel. We slept in the gas station and got lost on the way back.
The old seaman gave us delicious scrambled eggs and coffee in the Managua gas station and we set off for Costa Rica, making a detour to the sea. Disappointingly it was grey and cloudy and windy, We stayed by the sea a very short time and saw pelicans diving into the water straight onto their beaks. We saw some oxen plodding along the sand and had delicious buns which cost nothing. Nicholas didn’t even swim. We set off for the Costa Rican border and had a coke in a house full of hens and pigs and dogs. The customs was quick and there were several fat rabbits hopping about outside. We drove off along a narrow road with high green grass either side and tall succulent bushes and trees. We ran into a rain storm and saw a gorgeous rainbow. Further on were fields of humpy cattle and ponies and it all looked very rich land. We started to climb and had tomato soup for supper and rice and tuna. The car ran backwards onto the primus which was great drama. We spent the night in the middle of a small town, outside a church.
I refused to get up and Nicholas walked round the small town we were in and drove off in the direction of San Jose; then I got up and we had coffee and cheese sandwich. The way to San Jose was very prosperous looking with many middle class houses with lawns and swimming pools. San Jose is very attractive and we got our very expensive visas from the Panamanian Consul and had a lengthy search for sandals and mosquito net. We had arrived in the lunch hour so everything was closed. We found our way to an ? dirt road, first it climbed high into misty mountains and then we descended onto a flat dry plain, the road was very dull and dust flew in every crack of the car. We had tomato soup for supper and very shortly afterwards a flat tyre which was obstinate and the stew pot had to be used as the jack would not go up high enough. A Texas car arrived and told Nicholas he was turning the screws the wrong way which was amusing tho’ embarrassing. We spent the night in a friendly gas station, not far from the Panamanian border.
We started along the dusty road from the gas station and it quickly became very hot and our car was completely covered in dust which settled on everything. We had another flat tyre which did not improve tempers and had it mended further along the road and had rice and egg while we waited and I read the Cruel Sea. We were very pleased to reach the end of the dirt road and the border where we ate a delicious hamburger and were given a certificate showing we had driven all the way from New York. We stopped at a river and thoroughly cleaned out our car. The country was flat with mountains in the distance. There were many rivers and green fields with the funny humpy white cattle and strange birds and gigantic butterflies fluttering about. Towards early evening we got onto another dirt road, this one for ? miles or so and narrowly escaped running out of gas. We saw the sea and a beautiful sunset. We had trouble with our leaking gas tank and a flat tyre at the end of the road and changing it was an excitement for many of the natives. We had supper of extremely tough meat and spent the night on the beginning of the long straight road to Panama City.
We woke very early to hear people burning cacti in little houses so we drove off along a straight flat road and found a very American looking place to have breakfast where we had quantities of very uncured tasting ham. We found a lovely wide river further along to wash in, masses of people appeared just as we were about to go to the lavatory. The drive to Panama City was disappointingly dull and straight and flat with a lot of traffic as we got towards the city. We bought tangerines, grapefruit and our first coconut from the side of the road and arrived in Panama City about twelve having driven over a bridge we were very excited about. We found our way to the Consul which was shut and collected N’s mother’s letters from Boyd Brothers. We sat in the Hilton resting for a long time waiting for a torrential downpour to end and spent the rest of the day looking for somewhere to stay and got ourselves into the oldest part of the city, right in the middle of the market which was chaos. The old part of PC is most attractive and by the water. We found a nice girl who helped us find the Hotel Central where we slept right through New Years Eve.
We drove to Colon along a flat straight road and stopped in a jungle clearing on the way where we were about to start on a hike to the canal until two Americans told us it was a six hour journey. We saw a trail of ants, carrying green leaves around and drove off to the Gatun locks where we saw several boats passing through and talked to the guide who has six kids and a Costa Rican wife. We went to Gatun Lake and lay on the beach, reading in the sun. We were cooking our supper when a strange Germanish lady slightly drunk, came and talked to us and invited us to spend the night with her family on Fort Davis. We went off and met her husband who she told us hadn’t been sober since Xmas Eve, but he wasn’t drunk, however she became steadily drunker as the evening progressed. She had a son called Rudi who was turned out of his room for us. We had a fabulous shower.
We had hard fried eggs cooked by Mrs Day and did our gigantic pile of laundry in her washing machine which was a great relief. We hung it out to dry and met a terrible GI friend of hers called Toby Tyler. We left to go into Colon and it was very humid with no sun. We spent the afternoon visiting all the shipping lines trying to find a cheap way to Colombia with little success. We also try to find out about ships crossing the Pacific, also with little success. We feel rather gloomy and have a meal and talk to an Ecuadorean lady about the Royal Family about which she knows more than us. We find no car dealers in Colon and drive back to the Days and hang around while they watch juvenile television and Sgt Day pokes around in Another Country for dirty sections. Rudi takes us down to the Yacht Club to inquire about boats to Colombia. Then we go back and have to sit and admire all his photographs which is very tedious and we want to watch the news on television. Mrs Day is very silent all evening and we go to bed early.
We went off at eight o’clock to the Yacht Club and talked to a nice lady about the prospect of getting a boat to Colombia. She put up a notice on the board about our car but was not very hopeful about us getting a ride. We drove to Panama City and visited the Consul for our letters and went to the Balboa Yacht club, first having lunch at the American Legion. We met a strange man in the Yacht Club, an American who always uses the British Consul and he took us to see a marine biologist who was painting his tiny boat and goes off hunting for sea snails. Unfortunately, he wasn’t going till February so Nicholas was unhappy. I was quite pleased as the boat was so tiny. There was a torrential downpour of rain, so great we had to stop the car and wait for it to finish. The roads were running with red mud. We spent the rest of the day taking our car to dealers and a foul dealer called Guy offered us $75 so we drove of in disgust. We walked around PC and found a funny place to eat and had rice and then started to look for a place to sleep. Fortunately we found the Hacienda which was very friendly and had a cage of two monkeys and a parrot and puppies and a minute kitten were wandering around. The owner of the place looked like Salvador Dali and had a very nice wife. We spent a fairly comfortable night free from mosquitoes and had great excitement as we saw a cat in shadows and thought it was a strange animal.
We woke at the Hacienda and the nice lady gave us coffee before we set off for Panama. We had a very tiring day taking our car round many gas stations who invariably told us to come back later and sent us off elsewhere but never with any success. We had a funny lunch, Nicholas had rice and shrimps and afterwards there was a downpour of rain which seems a common occurrence in Panama City. We visited the YMCA in Balbao and met a dreadful senile old man and a boy who seemed interested in our car but when he saw it his interest died rapidly. We drove back to the Hacienda and have a delicious tortilla which turned out to be an omelette.
We spend the whole day fairly fruitlessly driving our car around endless gas stations and PX garages on various bases. We drive backwards and forwards along the Transisthmal ? Highway and become disconsolate and suffer from great heat. We meet a nice man called Captain Baldwin and arranged to see him in the evening. We spent an hour at Miraflores Lock watching boats go by and eventually found Capt Baldwin in B O Q and he brought his really thick friend to see the car. He seemed quite interested and we arranged to call him tomorrow. We were very excited and drove to the Hacienda.
We sped from the Hacienda to the Days house having breakfast along the way on the bridge of a wide river. We had the last of the porridge and a grapefruit and delicious coffee. We were very upset to hear that the oafish friend of Cpt Baldwin didn’t want our car, however, Ursula came to our rescue and suggested we advertise in the Port Bulletin. We spent the afternoon at her house. She is a very attractive person and has the most enormous foul baby. A friend of her husbands, Vince Kindrick came to see our car and surprisingly enough offered us $200 for it. It was very exciting and we made arrangements to drive to Panama City to see about duty. So we drove off, I had a very confidential conversation with Mrs Day outside the door about nothing. We spent a night in the Hacienda and talked to the many animals.
We drove from the Hacienda to Panama and spent hours in the Customs car department while a really doddery old man typed out a letter. There were lots of exciting letters at the Embassy from Aunt Diana, Lavinia, etc. We drove back in the burning heat to Colon and waited for hours for Kindrick, it appeared he couldn’t get away so collected some money from him in the evening. We saw a movie in Colon, not very good, the exciting thing was Bingo in the middle. We spent the night by the lake and met a group of boys, one rather insufferable negro and friends of Rudi’s. We had a very short midnight swim and went to bed later, our snake [mosquito repellent] burning away.
We woke by the lake after a tranquil night unmolested by mosquitoes and heat. Nicholas had an early morning swim and then we swam together and consequently were starving so drove to Colon and had eggs of which we were becoming bored. We brought tangerines and macaroni and things and visited Mrs Day who was waiting to go to the beach. We hung around and then went into Colon to see if there was any rioting. It all seemed quiet so we went to the beach and found Mrs Day etc. It was not particularly sunny and at six we cooked the supper of macaroni and corned beef. We met a nice oriental boy on the beach. Mrs Day invited us to stay for the night and we went to a movie “Shot in the Dark” before going to her house. She told us a very gory story about a lady found dead on the beach with crabs coming out of her mouth and we went to bed very late having dried our hair with her hair drier.
We woke very late in the Day’s house and cleared out our car, giving the funny soap and ball and sweaters to the Day family. We drove to Colon and had an enormous meal of rice which the Chinese boy we met on the beach paid for. We drove to Panama a different way, along a narrow jungly very hot road and arrived in the old part of Panama and walked through the old streets by the sea. We drove to Chepo which is the most southerly point on the Pan American highway in Central America. For most of the way the road was dark and some of the way very crowded. It was not as jungly as we had expected, nothing ever is. We ate a foul grapefruit on the way back to the Hacienda and when we arrived there had delicious omelettes and the nice lady showed us her monkeys swinging around in their cages. We spent a fairly comfortable night.
We drive from the Hacienda to Panama, sadly there were no letters so the journey was completely wasted. We drove back to Colon and met Kinnard at the Day’s and spent hours with him getting necessary documents and had to go to the Y and type out our official bill of sale, then we had a drink with him and were left without our car. We paid a visit to the St Andrean boat and watched a new mast being floated across the water and being put up. The Colombian captain was not very nice and we found a dear little Indian boat bound for the San Blas Islands which we hoped to go on. It was waiting for a consignment of sugar from Panama City and would leave very early in the morning. We were very excited and went back to the Y where we had left our luggage with a dreadful little man who incited us to anger because he was so complacent and foul. We found a hotel in which to spend the night called the Astor and had a delicious ham and egg sandwich in our usual place. We saw Kinnard in our car and just as he was gone round the corner saw he had an atrocious flat tyre but could not stop him in time
We woke up sweating in the Hotel Astor and Nicholas reads The Cruel Sea until eleven when I get up. Outside it is sunless and humid. We have coffee and buy some huge buns which we eat while walking down to the pier to see if the sugar had come in. There was great activity and although the Captain was not around we gather that the sugar had arrived. We read our books in the Y until it is time to cart our dreadful luggage down to the boat, we find it most exhausting and plan to throw some of it away. We meet an Indian from India who gives us bubble gum and told us that ? died in Russia. He had lost $5,000 when his store caught fire in Panama and has two hundred relations. We left the boat which had scores of people milling round loading it and had an enormous meal of fried rice and egg and walked around Colon for the thousandth time, filling in time until we could get on our boat. We read in the Y and met some boys, one with a fantastic English army officer moustache and one from New Zealand – who was rather interesting as he had just finished traveling around South America which had taken him six months and gave us bottles and bottles of insect repellent. On the way back to our boat we were walking through a murky area and suddenly were attacked from behind by a little coloured man; fortunately he was inefficient and got away with nothing, except perhaps “the Cruel Sea”. The safety pins in N’s trouser pockets saved the wad. We screamed and shouted respectively, but the Panamanian cop by the wharf did not move a muscle until we arrived panting and N’s voice was hoarse, then off he wandered to see what he could find of course the thief was far away and we went off to sleep in our boat after listening to a lively conversation in Spanish between everyone who lived nearly. The Captain was woken up when we arrived and we got a little sleep on the hatch. Nicholas complained of a cold wind. Throughout the night more and more passengers arrived and we began to wonder how they would all fit in.
We set off at four am. When we woke up the boat seemed crammed with people. All the ladies with rings through their noses and small children disappeared into the only cabin. We sat on a very hard bench and suffered seven hours of real misery, being sick every other second it seems. We felt quite dreadful and eventually the sea became calm and we saw small flat islands with palm trees, houses on stilts and small yellow beaches. The first island we got off at was typical of the majority and had houses built of reedy material with thatched roofs and hammocks swinging inside. There was no spare space and houses are everywhere with tiny narrow paths running down to the sea. We had cornflakes which tasted rather strange but was good for seasickness. We met a nice boy who is staying for two years on the island in the Peace Corp. Nicholas went to sleep in the wharf and I sat in the rocking chair and read “Great Escape”. We were given a meal of rice and egg and cold but good coffee. Then we walked around the village and met the second Peace Corp boy in his house – he came from Washington State. We gave him Eeyore to give to someone with measles – there is a measles epidemic here. Tomorrow we go to the largest island and probably a bit beyond.
Nicholas got out of his hammock very early and we finally got up at eight, just before we thought the boat would leave, it left quite a bit later as it had a run-down battery. It was a lovely sunny morning but it got exceptionally hot later on when we were at the capital island. We met some Peace Corps people and managed to send off a pc – we wished we had our camera as now we could begin to use it as everything seems so unusual and strange. Our little boat is called Cuna Karibe? And the captain is a jokey fellow, very tiny like all the San Blas and with a happy, wicked face. His name is Jerry Jones and today he was very talkative and it was very calm and we had a lovely ride stopping at tiny islands delivering things. We had lunch of vegetable, rice and juicy sardines. We arrived at an island called Tibetha? Where the captain decided to stay the night, we were very pleased as we met a Peace Corps boy who took us swimming and we saw tiny little crabs walking sideways and sea slugs and coconut trees – the water was fantastically warm and clear. Afterwards we had supper of spaghetti and bread and marmalade and coffee in an enormous reed house with two poor little pigeons cooped up in horrid cages. We were the subject of great curiosity and the children ran after us laughing at us. Hords of people trooped into the house, one terrified little boy who hid behind his mother the entire time. There was a chief who spoke nothing but Indian and sat for hours. We ate congee cane and went to sleep in the hammocks, the doors being firmly shut because of vampire bats and rats.
We started off punctually at 5.30 and slowly the sea began to get rougher but we survived. We stopped at several little islands and saw a ship-wrecked boat on the sand. The mainland was jungly with little mountains everywhere. It was very grey and rather rainy but when we reached a large island with a church and library, the sun was out with violence. We set off from the island and when we were half a mile from the shore the engines suddenly went dead and we dropped anchor, waiting till three motor boats pulled us slowly into shore where we stopped in the burning heat until 5.30 while the engine was being mended. Something had to be soldered. I was very angry all afternoon and read “The Great Escape”. Nicholas wandered around and met the Peace Corps boy who was building a cement house and was keeping an enormous conch in a bucket until the insides came out. Also near his house in the water was an octopus and a ?. At 5.30 we started off for Aligaide? Which is on the mainland and has many cement houses and a hotel. We arrived in the dark and parked next to a Colombian bungy which had two masts and looked dark and mysterious, its inside piled with coconuts and negros. We walked round the town down the dark streets past reed houses and we could see people sitting inside, some were sewing and some were in their hammocks. There was a very large house, inside a man chanting in a hammock and we thought perhaps someone had died as it all sounded very solemn. We had a delicious supper of soup and tuna and peas all out of tins which cost us only 50. We had a very comfortable night on the hatch next to the Colombian boat which looked exactly like a pirate boat and we were in two minds whether or not to find the Captain. We had great excitement as when I was in the loo, I saw a little patch of luminous light on my shirt but is turned out to be a hole in the door and not a glow worm as we had thought.
We woke up and set off at 5.30 and watched the Colombians cleaning their teeth over the side of the boat and had a very sour dry biscuit for breakfast. We stopped for an hour on the largest island so far called Lipressa? And were constantly followed by Indian women and children chattered in hostile voices, really they were friendly and were interested by my wedding rings. We saw a skinny black cat and hairy pigs and there was a large Catholic church and a nursery next door, which we found useful as we got a man to post our letters as the post office was closed. We heard the conch horn and found the boat waiting for us. The sea became a little rough and we saw porpoises leaping in the water. The sun became hot and we stopped at a really primitive island and had a curious drink of maizey stuff and then lunch which was boiled bananas and fish. Suddenly the Captain announced he was going no further and put us off at a really primitive island where we were received with great friendliness and lay in hammocks in their congress room waiting for the Sila to arrive. When he did come he started singing and it appeared that we were not meant to talk to him until he spoke to us first. We were given coffee and were the subject of great curiosity, the children followed us round in hords. We found several men who could speak a tiny bit of English but did not manage to extract much information about coming bungies. When it got dark, the Congress room filled up and endless chanting began, the women sewed, and the children slept in the hammocks and most of the men seemed bored. One of the English-speaking men took us into his house and gave us more coffee and showed us wood carvings he had made. He was the Secretary and wrote letters for the island. Eventually the singing stopped and they all trooped out of the room and we slept in hammocks.
We were woken at 6.30 and were taken off to wash in a house. The morning was spent in reading, sleeping and drinking cups of maize liquid and eating bananas. We were asked into a house and were given a piece of rather tasteless melon. Hordes of children followed us around but lost interest fairly quickly. The sun came out and it got quite hot and we were asked into a house where we had maize flavoured chocolate. Later on in the day a bungy arrived with no engines, unfortunately it was going the wrong way. We spent a long time bargaining with the San Blas over material, skirts, coffee and sugar. It got dark and we were given a drink of orange by a little man who owned a shop which he kept padlocked. We went into the Congress room and again the chanting began. We heard an engine and went outside to find another bungy, again heading north. We are not too disturbed as we are told one going south is expected tomorrow. Eventually the singing stops and we go to bed. During the night there is a heavy storm and windy. A rat eats half our banana.
We were hungry this morning until we bought some delicious spaghetti in the shop, a coconut and were given some crackers and we had a lovely meal on the pier. Both bungies disappeared at about 9.30 and we saw piles of poor iguanas with their arms tied over their backs. The rest of the day was spent in reading and eating bananas from a giant bunch we were given, they went bad rapidly and had to be disposed of next day into the sea when no one was looking. We sat on the wharf looking for bungies though none arrived. We were constantly told one was due tomorrow so we did not lose hope. We endured another three hours of chanting and slept in the hammocks and were woken up by rats running over our faces. From that moment we were wary of noises, it was very windy and we imagined vampire bats in every corner, however, eventually we got to sleep.
The boy who gave us the bunch of bananas told us a Panamanian boat called the Milton was arriving at three, however we dd not really believe this and were very surprised to see a little boat arrive on the dot of three just as we were eating our tins of pork and beans. It was a sailing ship and sold things to the San Blas once a month. It was a long time before we learned that the boat was turning around. There were very nice people on the boat and a Colombian with an arresting face called Archibald Lipton who told us of a bungy that might be passing our way. He gave us delicious meal and fortunately we only arrived back in time for a little of the ? We both spent a very sleepless night and heard rats rustling around
We had an enormous breakfast on the boat and got most excited over a bungy in the distance but it was concluded that it was travelling in the wrong direction. All morning was spent sitting on the wharf in great heat and stickiness – we had our lunch at 11.30 and Nicholas had a nasty fright when he fell down a hole in the wharf. We rested in our hammocks when Archibald Lipton arrived and told us of a bungy on the next island. We set off with him and arrived on a very lively island where all the children were chased by an old man with a stick and they jumped into the water. Our bungy was quite weighed down with coconuts and we saw a tiny ships cat tethered by a piece of string. We had a drink of orange which tasted foul as usual and sat on the wharf waiting for our boat to leave. We were warned it would be very rough with lots of spray which made us very excited. The boat had a poor tortoise buried beneath suitcases and coconuts. Immediately we got out to sea, the bungy rolled and swayed and very soon it became dark and we passed a tortuous night. Nicholas had the beginning of a runny tummy and it was impossible to sleep wedged between boards and coconut tins.
Eventually it got light and the bungy moored off a largish island where half the crew disappeared, till midday in a ? when were told to leave for another bungy nearby which proved much more comfortable but it was not carrying contraband coconuts but it had a real old-fashioned captain who stood on the mast seeing his way. We made a house for ourselves on crates of empty beer bottles with bananas for our pillow near the kitchen. We were both terribly thirsty and were given the last bottle of orange on the boat by a boy called William who was interested in our guide book throughout the voyage. We were both nauseated by food, rice with fried bananas. The boat stopped at five and we went straight to sleep.
After a very uncomfortable night we started off again and I slept till very late. Nicholas sat on the bows of the boat and had to spend a long time in the lavatory. We discovered a ships pig and horrid scrawny hens. The boat stopped early near a wooded island and the crew and Nicholas had a swim and was bitten by horrid jelly fish. I felt weak through loss of food but couldn’t face the foul donkey like meat and rice. We drank the tin of evaporated milk and slept, again badly on beer bottles.
The boat started off at three and by eight we had stopped in the sea as the captain had lost the way. Fortunately, land was sighted and we felt ourselves to be near to Cartagena as we saw an old fashioned sailing boat and a navy ship rushing along. Gradually the sun rose til it became oppressively hot. We stopped for ages at what appeared to be the Customs. The captain went ashore and people appeared to buy bananas. By eleven we had landed and were both relieved to be off the boat. [My recollection was that we were required to get off the boat some way from the shore, carrying our luggage over our heads. This could have been because we didn't have visas or similar]. We carried our luggage to a square where we found the British Consul, a very friendly gentleman who told us of a hotel and said it was impossible to find hot water. He sent one of his people to show us the way and we arrived and paid £2.50 for a room which was expensive. We had a shower in a gigantic bathroom and had food downstairs, which also was expensive. Nicholas had soup. Afterwards I washed all the clothes and we set off for a walk, first by the sea. The old part of the city, which we are staying in, has two walls around it and is very attractive and Spanish looking, with old domed churches and nice green squares. We bought a pineapple, the tiniest in an immense heap and visited our boat which was tied up in a line of other bungies. We had a terrible time repacking our suitcase and had delicious soup downstairs, sitting next to three American boys who are in the navy and very oafish. It is tremendously hot and there is a giant fan in our room. We hope it won’t fall down, it is very precarious.
Nicholas woke up feeling ill and we get up late and went out into the blazing sun and ate delicious eggs and pots and coffee. We bought dark glasses and failed in finding a hat, we searched in the very smelly market and they were all like the Captain’s but too small. We walked rather aimlessly about and had papaya and guava drink by the sea and saw our captain gazing rather sadly into space. Cartagena was dead empty and we had a long rest, N read his book and I dreamt about talking to a coat hanger. We walked towards the sea when it was dark and saw all the middle-class people going to and from church. We had a fairly disappointing supper and wrote to our parents and I was bored while N finished Heeteg? We slept with our fan on all night and a giant roach walked up the wall.
We had an exhausting time finalising our list and took four taxis whilst getting our entrade stamps back and forwards from ? and to the customs again, we just arrived before they were setting off for lunch. We had a period of enforced idleness while all the Cartagenians had lunch. We had a delicious pineapple drink which resulted in us having upset stomachs when we arrived at the ? so had to run back to the hotel. Eventually our case containing Mimi was sent off. A key had to be cut which was done wrong the first time and we visited the tourist bureau. Cartagena was quite different today and was teeming with people and cars. We caught our bus for Barranquilla which drove at top speed through flat country with fat white Mexican cattle and donkeys. It was quite dull and there were mountains in the distance and sea. We arrived in Barranquilla in a seedy area to find we had missed the last bus to Santa Marta. With the help of a boy who carried our suitcase on his shoulder, we found a hotel and had a tiny room with air conditioning and walked with trepidation through dark streets and had delicious soup and sandwich. We went to bed at nine, both missing my rabbit.
We got up at 3.30 and arrived at the bus place to find our bus didn’t leave till five, so we had coffee and some strange drink. We crossed the river Magdalena and drove at high speed along a dead straight road next to the sea and stopped at Cienaga and discovered our train to xxx leaving at many different times. After long hot hours of waiting the train arrived, very long with trucks and ? and eventually we found a seat. The train started off slowly and went through banana plantations and we saw trucks of bananas in plastic bags waiting to be taken off. We stopped endlessly at tiny stations and the train became less crowded. It became intensely hot and as we got further away from Santa Marta the banana plantations diminished and we saw green fields with Mexican cattle with disappointingly little jungle. Mountains were to the right of us, they were quite small and then disappeared. There were a few sluggish rivers with children swimming and dusty villages, many of the houses had reed roofs and looked very primitive and many of the children had enormous tummies from malnutrition. At the stations little boys rushed up and down our train selling extraordinary things to eat. Nicholas ate guava ? wrapped up in a smelly leaf which revolted me and we had what looked like a conglomeration of puffed wheat stuck together with sugar. When night fell we realised we had gone a very short distance and expected to arrive in Bogota early the next day. The train stopped constantly throughout the night and the mosquitoes bit. There were scores of small children who yelled eternally so it was not a very comfortable night. There was a dear little black and white kitten which slept underneath our seat for hours before we knew he was there.
We realised we were only half way to Bogota early in the morning so morale was low. The train made very slow progress in the early part of the day and the countryside was more jungle-like. We didn’t see macaws or monkeys swinging in the trees. All the children screamed intermittently all day. Again it was extremely warm and we looked forward to getting into the mountains for relief of heat and mosquitos. My feet swelled up from bites. We saw some derailed trucks but no other excitements. In the middle of the afternoon we stopped for a long time just after we crossed the Magdalena river and had delicious ? cold coke. The train made good progress and we were lucky enough to find much more comfortable seats and we went to sleep as darkness fell. We were invaded by insects, enormous dragon flies and a gigantic moth.
We woke at three to find the pill box had been stolen. We were very upset especially as the diary was in it. We thought it was stolen by a horrid old man whose legs stuck out of the window. We were both very relieved the rabbit Mimi was not in it and the passports. It grew very cold and we continued to climb until we reached Bogota. We started a fruitless search and I feel foul. We found a waterless hotel and Nicholas had breakfast and then we slept till two and got up and visited the British Consul who was helpful and had a lovely lavatory. We had a cup of coffee in a funny little place where we were the subject of great curiosity and two people paid for our meal – we found the Tourist place which was very smooth and helpful over buses. We started back towards our hotel and stopped in a bookshop where we were caught by a really cranky professor who had a wooden statue of a naked Indian. We found our way back to the hotel and both felt tired. Bogota is a nice town, surrounded by mountains and is very cold. Everyone is smartly dressed and the streets are broad. We did not find the old part of Bogota. We saw lots of men walking around in ponchos. We bought a dear little diary and will try to rewrite the one we lost. It is very disheartening writing this one as so much has been lost and we are extremely upset. I suffer all day from knives in the stomach and diarrhoea and we do not know if we will go tomorrow. We had an amazing supper. Nicholas had an assortment of offal sizzling on a rack with charcoal underneath and baked potatoes but it was not very nice. The waiter tried to overcharge us with no success. We had coffee in a funny little place and a little man said we were a pretty couple. We hurried home to the lavatory. There seems to be a water shortage throughout Bogota. We feel very cold all day and wear sweaters.
We got up and had two eggs for breakfast in a funny little saucepan and two cups of delicious café con leche. I had to hurry back to our hotel as a result. We decided to leave Bogota as my insides improved so much, so we packed up and bought lots of things like a bag with Avianca written on it, a razor, nail clippers and four books. Bogota was much warmer and sunnier and we saw delicious fruits being sold on the street, grapes and plums. We walked miles to the bus station and found a bus leaving at 2.45 so we had soup and Nicholas had an immense meal of tough meat. We had a terrible time finding a lavatory and managed to do so just before the bus started. Once out to Bogota we climbed for a bit and the scenery was very attractive with fields and cows and a few sheep. Also we saw lots of different sorts of trees, some evergreens. We climbed down for a long way, there were little shrines all along the way and our bus stopped to light two candles. We passed through two attractive towns. The was an old lady in the bus behind us who was sick out of the window and wrapped herself up in a white scarf. We stopped briefly and narrowly escaped being left behind while we were having our pee. We crossed the river Magdalena which had a paucity of water and looked dirty. Then we stopped further on and the driver had his dinner and the whole bus disembarked. It was dark and we slowly gathered that we had to stay on the bus as had reserved our seats. We climbed up and down enormous mountains and it became very cold and misty as we reached the tops. There were masses of police checks and at one point all the men in the bus were searched when they got out of the bus. Further on down the road the bus was searched by Customs men who looked drunk. We were told we would reach Cali at three. It got freezing cold and we couldn’t see anything. The was a fantastically stupid boy next to me on the bus who tried to keep up a flowing conversation out of his English book and it was very tedious.
We arrived at Cali at three and spent a very uncomfortable few hours waiting for our bus to leave, Nicholas slept with his head on the table and I wrote my stolen diary. We drank coffee and sat in our bus, waiting for 8 o’clock. We both felt very tired as had little sleep. The bus terminal was full of people sleeping and the cops came and moved two lots of people away. It was a very small bus we started off in and there was a screaming child behind us and a man with “born to love” on his arm. We started off on an unpaved road and the country was most attractive, hills and green fields and it looked very fertile. There were lots of donkeys by the side of the road and mules and ponies. We changed buses at a largeish town as ours seemed to go wrong underneath. The next bus driver was tinier than the last. We went through very picturesque scenery, up and down little mountains and past little green fields like England. There were lovely flowers and herds of ponies in fields and people wearing ponchos. We climbed quite high and stayed high, stopping at little towns picking up people on the way until the bus became very crowded. The child started to scream behind us and fortunately we stopped and had a meal, horsemeat and everyone moved at top speed. We were amazed to see we had not passed Le Union and resigned ourselves to a five hour journey. We climbed again and it grew dark, the man with “Born to Love” on his arm started on his repertoire of jokes and sung loudly all the way to Pasto, which we reached at nine, we were freezing cold and found a hotel very quickly and had eggs and went to bed in a really cold damp room.
We woke up at one and Nicholas had a tepid shower. Our room was cold and damp and smelt damp. We had an enormous lunch, guava jam stuff, milk and rice and bananas. I washed a shirt and the key got lost and it was very trying, it was found in the bathroom. We went outside and it was very cold. We walked around, it was quite deserted and everyone looked sombre. We saw lots of cops some in a truck. There are nice hills just outside the city and many churches and a large square in the centre of the town which has some modern shops and masses of small hotels. We had a delicious tea – cake and coffee and the rest of the day was spent in feeling cold, reading and writing letters and diary.
Nicholas woke up with a cold and the room smelt damper than ever. We went to the bank and bought our bus tickets to Ipiales. We went on a dear little bus and sat in the front seat, we were faintly nervous of our suitcase which was put right on top of the bus. We had a nice little bus driver who drove slowly and had bad brakes. We went over the usual sort of country – mountainous with tiny villages and green fields. There was a lovely river miles beneath which we passed over several times. There was a Colombian boy who spoke English and was friendly. He was an agricultural adviser. He was very helpful and accompanied us to DAS? And then we had lunch with him, an enormous piece of chicken in a bowl of soup and rice and salad which he paid for – then we went to the Ecuadorian consulate and missed paying five dollars for a tourist card. We went in a very small bus to Tulcan and there changed money and caught a big bus for Ibarra. There were only a few hours of daylight left and we drove on a fairly cobbly road and there was a tedious military person who kept up a conversation in bad English. The excitement of the journey was being stopped by the Aduana and they searched the entire bus, all the ladies bags etc for contraband goods bought cheaper in Colombia to be sold in Ecuador. The Aduana made off with tins of coffee and chewing gum. We drove on and on up an extremely high mountain with a fearsome precipice and the bus gave money to Our Lady of Fatima who was very elaborate. We were stopped by Aduana who swarmed onto the bus; this time we were rather nervous as the military gentleman had thrust a parcel containing what looked like knickers onto us; however the Aduana seemed content only to look at our passports. Just before we arrived at Ibarra the bus stopped and very furtively about a dozen ladies carrying sacks and looking like ants scurried off and ran up a path by the side of the road. A commotion was caused by a car coming up a hill and everyone ducked in the shadow of a house except for one poor lady who lost her nerve and came flying back to the bus. Later the bus was searched most thoroughly, including the drivers tool box and the wheels and we found the Imperial Hotel very late and woke up a poor boy who was asleep just inside the door. We had two beds, Nicholas slept in a middle sized bed and I slept in a tiny bed.
Nicholas had a terrible stomach attack and a big black cat came and mewed inside our room. We had breakfast, an unusual sort of drink and roll and coffee and a military band playing outside. We decided we had arrived in an extremely nice hotel and deliberated about staying because of Nicholas’s stomach or whether to go by rail or bus. We decided to go by train and the nice German who wore very clean clothes and had been in Ibarra for 54 years rang up the station. I had a cold shower and we walked in great heat to the station and back. Ibarra is a quiet little town and surrounded by mountains. It has nice squares with flowers – we had lunch in our hotel – good but quite wasted on us and we were appalled by our bill for the night. The train was just one big coach and we were surprised to hear an American voice behind us and it turned out there were two missionaries in our train, a fairly nauseous couple from San Lorenzo. The train made a fantastic noise and we shouted at the tops of our voices at them for hours. It was a very spectacular journey; we went along the sides of mountains and over perilous wooden bridges and gorges miles beneath. The driver hooted incessantly to move hairy pigs and donkeys and people off the track. We arrived at Quito at six and the missionaries took us in their taxi and we had difficulty in extricating ourselves from having an expensive hotel. We found a funny little one with a man who looked like a Turk or an Arab. We had delicious eggs and walked round Quito – round the expensive area and past lots of military looking belligerent – one had a drawn bayonet.
We were constantly woken by people passing our room and both slept badly – we trecked round Quito finding the post office and bank and Pan American bus service. Quito is a nice town with several squares where the President lives and the military etc. The Indians are very strangely dressed, the women wear men’s hats and the men have pigtails and the children, especially the girls are dressed up to look like very old creatures. We caught a bus just as it was leaving and made reasonably good time to Riobamba, along a paved road. First, we went through a rich valley, with herds of Friesian cattle and houses with lovely flowers. Chimborazo and Cotopaxi, both volcanoes were in the distance covered in snow and cloud. We arrived and bought red and yellow plums and had coffee, then the bus became more crowded and the paved road gave out and we bumped along a road which was being built and caterpillars were shovelling earth away. We climbed high and it became very bleak and cold and looked rather like parts of Scotland. We descended to Riobamba, a dusty little town with donkeys carrying piles of grass and minute Indians bent double under enormous sacks and spent ages deliberating what to do and decided to catch a six thirty bus for Alausi. We had delicious buns and coffee at great expense and wandered around by the railway, ceaselessly followed and stared at by everyone who offered to carry our things, etc. We got on a bus to Alausi and had a two and a half hour journey in the dark and saw a bus which had practically gone over the edge of a precipice avoiding another bus. We spent the night in a very primitive hotel with public basins and a minute pillow. We had café con leche and the inevitable cheese roll.
We woke to the sound of a Beatles record sung in Spanish. We had breakfast – that delicious guava type juice again. Outside it was cold and dark. We waited till 12.30 for our bus and climbed up and down misty mountains all the way to Cuenca, sometimes dropping down into a valley which were all brown and impoverished. We went through a couple of nice little towns. There was a French couple sitting in front of us. We arrived in Cuenca to find the bus for Valjo? a quarter of an hour later. So we flew around, peeing which was exquisite relief and buying delicious beef sandwiches. We managed to get a little sleep on the way – half way we stopped at a dark place where everyone except for us had food and afterwards we grabbed the back seat and bounced around over potholes. Earlier on in the day we had a prolonged discussion about food, conjuring up delicious steak and kidney pie in our imagination as we were so hungry. We ate very little over the last few days, lovely buns and horrid cheese sandwiches
We arrived in Valjo at five and slept a few hours in the bus before we caught the bus for the border without a second to spare. It was a nice bus and stopped frequently so we had a chance to buy buns and coffee. We lost a lot of ground and it became quite warm and we saw purple dragon flies and orange shrubs. We had soup for lunch surrounded by pigs and flies and our passports were inspected twice. It suddenly got very hot and rained, the first time in ages. We arrived in Machala in another two hours climbing and then losing height again rapidly. It got very much hotter and we saw lovely white lilies growing in masses. Again our passports were checked and we entered the town very muddy streets and it started to rain so heavily we thought we must have hit the rainy season. We had delicious coffee and wrote quick letters and Nicholas found a very nasty hotel that stank of pee and had big bugs. It poured with rain torrentially and we slept and went out and had coffee and I feel mad.
We went by truck to the river to find it flowing quickly with red muddy water and went across it in a tiny rowing boat, men in their bathing suits pushed it and caught ropes to drag it into land the other side. We saw a large herd of cattle being swum across with just their heads above the water. We thought they were contraband and were scared by their menacing looks as we walked to the immigration in Peru where after lengthy conversation we had to turn back to Machala to get our Salida. We traipsed around the town in blazing heat being directed by a little boy and paid for our salida stamp, a grouchy old man who put at least five more stamps in our passports – we walked through foul pig mud back to the river, having been told it was impassable, however we crossed it in a boat, full of turkeys and saw some being floated across the river. We managed to get a cattle truck and paid 100 soles to Sullana, quite a lot. We bumped along really muddy roads, our radiator overflowing and the driver, crossing himself at every corner. We had delicious steak and potatoes which the retired police inspector paid for and two gigantic pepsi colas. We peed in a round hole watched by turkeys and arrived at Sullana at ten having stopped at a gas station where the truck was washed by hand. We saw desert and we are now in the Peruvian desert. We walked around Sullana looking for a cheap hotel as the Hotel Wilson was too expensive – a nice boy came along and took as off very mysteriously to a house and a senor appeared and looked at us most suspiciously and brought his wife out to see us and after showing them my wedding ring and us being thoroughly stared at we were taken indoors and had coffee and stopped the night in their house which was all downstairs with high ceilings and an outside bathroom and I heard a bat flying around and a mouse scuttling around on the floor.
We found a note when we got up from a mysterious person who turned out to be in the Peace Corps, an old maidenly bespectacled girl call Charlene, though nice who invited us to what she called a Fiesta in a hacienda – it turned out to be a gathering of the Peace Corps and three Peruvian girls on a rich man’s farm in the desert, but the land had been irrigated and the colour was fantastically green. It was a lovely house and had a swimming pool and we had lovely baked potato and avocados and meat. We drank a good punch made with oranges and wine and tea and had red very pippy melon. The mosquitoes were very bad and gnats sucked my sores which was revolting. I spent most of the afternoon in the swimming pool which was gorgeously warm and blue. We met some nice Peace Corp people, the most distinctive being one called Jim who worked ten years in Alaska. We had delicious cheese and biscuits and sweeties. It got dark quite early and the mosquitoes attacked badly. There was a large shining alsatian jumping around called Blas. We went back to Sullana in a truck and dried our clothes in the back
We woke very late and found Charlene rather untalkative. We had salty fried egg for breakfast and went out into the bright sun and got Tourist Cards and money accompanied part of the way by Senor Calderon. We had an enormous lunch including a mango and after giving the senora a bottle of wine, we went in a collectivo to Piura, through flat desert and caught an ex greyhound bus to Chiclayo through more desert, where we spent the night in a room that smelt of donkeys and overlooked the square which was very lively all night. I had the beginning of a headache.
Our bus left at half past four and I had a foul headache - sunstroke it was – the bus went through endless desert some ? desert, some very scrubby. We travelled near the sea quite a bit and there was a strong smell of drying fish which was very powerful. The driver stopped for lunch at 3.30 and Nicholas had a frustrating time and got three meals altogether. We arrived in Lima about seven and had a depressing time finding a hotel – eventually arrived in a fairly dreary one who tried to swindle us. We were very tired and slept all the night with our clothes on
We woke up still dressed and my headache was still there but improved enormously, throughout the day to extinction. We paid enormously for coffee and ham roll and went by the British Consul which had English newspapers and the cleanest lavatory. After much misfortune we collected our letters at the British Consulate, eventually we went off in a collectivo after a white coated cop had told us the wrong direction. We had quite a good collection, IAA, Jill and Alasdair were missing. The lady in the Consulate was very garrulous and helpful. We walked back toward the centre of the town and collected tax forms from the US Embassy.
Outside. we met rather a dreary teacher from the Canal Zone who was pallid and we walked with him to the square with the horse in it. Very exhaustedly, we sent off pcs at high price and returned to our hotel. Lima is a most attractive city, very spread out, with several wide streets divided into two with green leafy trees in the middle. There are several squares with impressive buildings round them, we saw military wearing gold helmets, white shirts and red trousers, guarding some very important place. All the people are very smartly dressed and everywhere is extremely expensive. Our hotel has improved, they have swept the floor and are doing our washing for a small fortune. Everyone in the town seems to be American and there are tourist shops full of stuffed llamas and llama skins for horrible rich Yanks. We had a good supper – funny mussel soup and breaded liver and then delicious flan, only it had no juice in it. Tomorrow we will go there and have delicious eggs and potato and coffee. We have to do lots of things like N’s passport and finding out about the Amazon.
We had a really disturbed night. I had to sleep in the other bed a result of fidgeting. Then we woke up late. Nicholas had two breakfasts and I had one. We took a collectivo out to the Booth Line, right out in the residential part and talked to an English man about the Amazon. It seems to be the best time to go, as boats don’t go aground, it is the rainy season. We collected two letters from the Consul and went into the middle of the town and spent quantities of money on an avocado pear and a really delicious bun. We spent a long time in the British Council and the rest of the day was spent in writing and having our supper, a mistake, disgusting tripe and then we had an argument over Nicholas’ mother’s letter.
I got up feeling tired and everything today has seemed an unhealthy effort. So much that we postponed leaving until tomorrow. We spent a fortune posting letters, talked to a nice lady in the tourist place, about Sir Robert Perkins who found a ship buried in his garden and we saw him later in the day in the Consul. No mail and N’s passport rather disappointing. We had a drive down to the sea with a rich Peruvian who we didn’t like all that much. But it was a nice drive through rich suburbs. We arrived back and walked exhaustedly looking for our bus for tomorrow. Then we had liver and chips in our usual place and were in bed by ten
Today was a repetition of yesterday in feeling tired. We dragged ourselves off to have breakfast and bought books and looked at Hondas and were tempted to buy one, it cost $320 but we didn’t think it could carry our baggage and ourselves up the Andes. We failed in buying malaria pills and slept on our bed till two thirty when we made a super human effort and set off to catch the bus to Oroya. We walked miles and a horrid boy threw water at me. I was furious. Our bus was very high off the ground presumably so that it can go through real floods. We climbed solidly until we reached Oroya at about nine thirty. The road was good for the first part of the way. We saw mountains and a nice river running by the side of the road. It got dark very quickly and all the windows of the bus were tight shut. We found a hotel and had meat and chips swimming in grease.
We woke up, Nicholas with an acute headache and me with knives in my stomach and we put it down to altitude. Oroya is twelve thousand feet high and an unattractive active town with a railway and little else. Nicholas saw a New Zealand car. We saw some drunk men and caught our bus at one thirty, unfortunately had no window. We sat right at the back and it was bumpy but we had quite a good view and the country was different, miles of plain with mountains in the distance. We were very excited to see herds of llamas grazing with sheep and cows. They were furry and all different colours. We saw some young ones which were snowy white. Also there were donkeys and goats. We passed through a town in which there was a procession against the Yankees. Then we started to lose height quite rapidly on a narrow road and it was quite hazardous when we met anything in the opposite direction. There was a nice little river which we followed for some distance. When it got dark the driver stopped for his supper and we arrived in Huanuco at 9.30 and found a very nasty hotel with a really disgusting lavatory. We had delicious orange juice and soup.
We had delicious orange juice for breakfast and discovered that buses didn’t run until four so we went along to the Control place and waited while trucks went past. We had a good view of Huanuco which is surrounded by mountains and is very clean with a browny river. Mosquitoes attacked and it got quite hot. We went off in a truck which had seats in it for about twenty five people. We sat in the front. We stopped about an hour after we started and had soup and potatoes, Nicholas bought a lemon and some foul boys threw something at me. We climbed for miles and went into a cloud. Right on the top we had a puncture and it rained heavily on our way down. The vegetation became quite jungly and we saw enormous pale purple orchids which Nicholas said were daffodils, also large white flowers by the side of the road. He river was miles below us and we stopped when it was dark and had supper which was very expensive, breaded veal, right by the side of the river. We passed lots of trucks lined up waiting to start their journey to Huanuco and arrived in Tingo Maria behind a very smelly market. We were shewn a nice hotel by the lady in the truck and went for a walk round the town and saw gigantic bugs crawling along, five times as large as maybugs. We saw something really extraordinary, our truck stopped in front of a house which was on a river bank, half supported by the bank and half supported by stilts. There was a tremendous thud and crackling sound and the house had disappeared down the bank when we turned round. The light was on inside, but no one seemed to have been inside and it didn’t cause much excitement. We wished we had our torch working as the people were peering down the bank with a candle.
It was tropically warm when we got up and there was an enormous moth clinging to the side of the door. It looked rather like a leaf. We bought disappointing buns and found the post office, in a nice square. We liked Tingo Maria very much. All the roads are unpaved and lots of people ride around on Hondas. The main street is very long and has a movie house and the river runs alongside it, no boats go from Tingo Maria so we were forced to buy expensive bus tickets and we waited all afternoon for the bus to arrive reading our books and eating buns and chocolate. There was a downpour of rain and it lasted for about an hour. At six o’clock two buses arrived at great speed and we started off at six thirty, having heard Beatles records played continuously. The road was extremely bumpy and we hit the ceiling. We sat right at the back, a hissing goose and a couple of hens were behind our seat. It started to pour with rain and the bus went very slowly and stopped for coffee where a great misfortune occurred. Nicholas’ glasses were missing from his pocket and after searching outside the bus and inside we concluded that they must have fallen out of his pocket while he was looking out of the window. The bus continued and we crossed several small bridges. We stopped at about half past two for the night and had an uncomfortable sleep.
We woke up and found ourselves in a line of trucks on a muddy track. The trucks skidded up and down the hills and at about seven thirty we stopped in a little village made of wooden huts by a bridge where we stopped for hours and had a delicious cheese sandwich and coffee and peppermints for breakfast. It was humid and my feet had swelled up in the night from mosquito bites. At about twelve our bus jumped the queue and we had an uneventful ride to Pucallpa. The road was paved after the first ten miles. It was quite jungly and there were fields full of Mexican type cattle. We arrived at about three in great heat. We walked to the river which was wide and had lots of little boats tied up. We had soup and there was a nice grey monkey tied up. The river shore was really foul, great pigs snorting about in disgusting mud and horrid black vultures eating dogs heads and dead rats. We visited the Tourist place which turned out to be a school called the Lincoln Academy run by quite a strange man, half Peruvian and half Scottish. He invited us to spend the night in his schoolroom. He had a wife of eighteen and a baby and we later learned the history of his marriage. We had a good supper of steak and chips and delicious cheese which was cheddar. Our mosquito net was quite successful and we spent a very hard night on the floor and on the ceiling we saw lots of immobile lizards, then suddenly they all ran away. There were disgusting huge black beetles lying in the streets, their legs in the air. The man showed us two huge ones in a bottle and gave us an Indian blowpipe which later disappeared, so we thought he had mysteriously taken it away.
The man went off on his bicycle at six. We both felt tired and got up when his first student had arrived. We washed near his funny lavatory and went for an incomprehensible conversation with the military on our boat. We had delicious coffee and orange juice and flew around agitatedly for the next hour buying cans of food, alcohol and things. The man went on at great length and I was in a dreadful hurry. He sent his wife off shopping and we last saw him looking like a long thin worm on his bicycle. But there was no hurry as the boat delayed and delayed, so off we went to have our lunch at the monkey place, delicious chips and egg and coke. The monkey had a blind eye and looked quite nice. We had an exhausting fruitless search for hats and had a ? ice cream, white inside and chocolate outside. We saw hordes of vultures sitting on top of the slaughter house, poor cattle sitting outside awaiting their fate and there were enormous cattle being skinned inside. The people on the boat are very nice, even though they are the military. There are two other passengers, a family with a little girl who has hardly any hair. The boat is carrying chicken meal. There seem to be two boats tied up together and they are quite little with tiny mosquito proof cabins which we hope we might sleep in. We have delicious tins of food and hope they will give us coffee and other things. We saw some Indian women, very like the San Blas only they had silver rings in their noses. They were cooking a foul fish in a pot. Eventually we left at five and a wind got up and the sky got dark but there was no rain. The water came inside our boat and the cabins got wet. We went along quite fast and were very excited at being on the river. The crew were all very jolly and one arrived quite tight and looked through his binoculars until it got dark. The river is extremely muddy and quite wide; so that it is difficult to spy out monkeys and alligators in the swamps. We tied up about eight, having had coffee exactly the colour of the river. Our mosquito net proved successful.
The engines started about four and we got up quickly in case our cabin got flooded out and there was no wind and it was quite cold. We were given cups of a very strange mixture and went to sleep on the hatch at about eight we stopped at a little village with houses on stilts, very large with thatched roofs. There were pigs grunting away, skeleton dogs and two tiny puppies. The army bought quantities of thin looking fish and we bought eggs and bread. Then we set off again and sat in the front of the boat watching the jungle – the trees are still not as tall as I expect, though the undergrowth is dense and there are banana trees and swamps of tall grass in which we expect to see alligators and crocodiles. Lots of the trees have thin white trunks, so it should be easy to see monkeys. The sun is not really out and Nicholas wears his sweater and my dark glasses. At eleven we were presented with two enormous plates of very boring food, stuff like marrow, nice red peppers, rice and an obscene dry banana which went overboard immediately. We ate quite a lot of it even though it was riddled with bones. The Captain who is a very jokey fellow came and startlingly read the first line of my diary. He says we will be in Iquitos on the 24th, however we don’t know what to believe as he laughs when he tells us seven days. The other two passengers are not communicative. Last night we gave them our mosquito stuff. We are not suffering much from mosquitos but have noticed some large black insects flying around with intent to bite. The captain tells us there are no alligators which is disappointing. We have no books to read, anyway Nicholas can’t read because of lack of spectacles, so we may get a bit bored at times; especially as no-one except ourselves speaks English. My diary will probably be quite boring; I doubt if we will see many animals. Occasionally we saw tiny canoes with fully clad Indians in them and every several miles we see little habitations with thatched houses and little boats tied up to the bank. The boat is carrying hen food which I think is probably made out of fish food. There are sacks of it everywhere and perhaps the stuff we drank this morning was made of it. We see lots of pieces of wood floating along and we smell orchid smell occasionally and in the distance see bushes of nice flowers and giant heads of tall grass. We slept for two hours and woke up and ate a roll and cheese just before we landed at quite a large village with nice green grass by the river and several little boats tied up. The Captain strode off with his documents and so we walked around looking for Peace Corps and deliberated whether to hire a Honda and arrived back at the boat just as its engines started up and was about to leave. The lady told us we were spending the night, so we were fortunate to get back. We took on two people we thought were missionaries, they kept to the other boat. We were given another meal of foul fish, rice and really monstrous dried bananas which went overboard as soon as we thought they weren’t looking. We had quite good black coffee. There was a beautiful sunset which started early and we saw dear little birds sitting on floating logs. Also we saw a great tree crashing down into the water as its roots were weakened and little trees ? There was difficulty in finding somewhere to tie up for the night and after the searchlight had been on for an hour or more the boat was moored in dense undergrowth and there was great snapping of branches and it was mosquito ridden jungle. Our mosquito net was not very effective, my side was too low and they stung through. Everybody else had trouble and we heard noises of mosquitos being killed all night
Rain woke us up very early and we did not get much sleep as were plagued by horrid mosquitos which were still flying about when we started off. We got up quickly and had a delicious sleep until about eight when our fried eggs arrived which we ate with the remains of our bread. We were given a curious liquid which seemed related to porridge, it tasted a bit burnt but got quite good towards the end. The rest of the crew ate horrid fried bananas. The Captain tells us he expects to arrive on Wednesday so time is going quite quickly. The other two men definitely are missionaries as saw them reading holy books. We stopped at one house in order to catch a chicken for our lunch, the Captain and crew chased a poor flock of chickens and caught a brown one. They picked lovely smelling lemons and we saw some cows, one half cow and half bull and a dear little calf. It was very warm and the grass felt hot and swarmed with busy insects. There were some nice trees, one looked rather like a chestnut. Later on we stopped again and went aboard a tiny canoe which wobbled perilously as Nicholas paddled it ashore with the clueless lady jumping about inside. We bought some strange kinds of fish, one with whiskers which proved a failure as the cook didn’t want them and we didn’t feel like gutting them and pulling their insides out, eventually the Captain did it for us and we were very thankful. The boat bought masses of fish, in enormous baskets made out of banana leaves. They were all salted and it was all weighed which took quite some time. It got very hot and we were being constantly attacked by small black beetles. Lunch was chicken soup and rice and chicken. We bought some tomatoes from a boy in a boat filled up with them and they were delicious. We started off again and the sky became dark and remained so all day. In the evening we had torrential rain which made everything most uncomfortable and wet. We had quite good, boneless fish for supper accompanied by our fish which the lady smoked, our fish had gone quite hard and looked like a preserved alligator. We stopped to let the missionary off at a little habitation which had a sawmill. There was great difficulty in tying up our boat and we went off again for a short distance, water came in everywhere and the planks in our cabin were getting wet so we were very pleased when we stopped for the night and tied up in a dense jungle and there were immense shiny leaves on the deck. The mosquitoes bit even though it was still raining and we went to bed very early, about seven. Our mosquito net worked very well after tremendous effort to get it right and the sleeping bags and mattress were a bit wet and it got excessively hot, otherwise we slept quite well
We got up later than usual ? o’clock and slept on the hatch until breakfast, horrid dried up fish and bananas and a delicious rice mixture like rice pudding but not so creamy. We had two cups each. The river got calmer and everything got dry, we saw lots of whirlpools and a funny balsa raft in the middle of the river, cooking its breakfast, as there was smoke coming from it. It was trailing a canoe behind it. We stopped next to a Booth Line boat and followed two of the boys into the middle of a village – it had a green square in the middle and there were houses on stilts. It was quite primitive and everyone stared at us. When the boys had finished buying matches a guardia appeared with a moustache and demanded to see our passports. They were in the boat, so he marched officiously behind us all the way back, stopping to have a drink of beer from one of his friends. When he arrived on the boat he saluted the man who looks like Peter Ustinov and wrote down the wrong passport number and would have written Accountant instead of Harding had Nicholas not stopped him. The boat had to wait for our enemies who appeared laden with bread and funny looking herbs. The sky got dark and it was quite windy and we felt very hungry. A nice boy gave us a delicious fruit, we think it was a papaya. It had seeds which looked like caviar and was delicious, orange and very juicy. We ate it all and sat on the chicken food sacks till lunch – quite good fish and rice and funny things rather like chips, probably some sort of root. We felt rather bored after lunch and I opened the evaporated milk which meant great disgrace. Nicholas dictated two letters to me which filled up most of the afternoon. Supper was nasty fish and I had three cups of very sweet coffee. There was a sunset behind us and it got dark quite late. We saw lots of birds sitting on logs on the water and I saw a very strange, enormously long canoe with a fluttering sail. As it was in the half light it was probably a spook. We went for ages looking for a place for the night. There were millions of mosquitoes and we both had to pee in the middle of the night which was a nuisance. We heard the bullfrogs croaking away.
We found some horrid mosquitoes inside our net and there were mosquitoes inside our cabin. The boat started off about six and there was a poor duck in the lavatory, we think to be eaten for lunch and we saw a man sharpening up a horrid knife to slit his throat with. I did some washing in the ? and the Captain who is very jokey today gave us some delicious papaya. Nicholas lay in the hammock. We had some nasty liquid for breakfast and some quite good biscuity things, but they were rather greasy. The sun came out and the river became very narrow, we must have been in between two islands but we saw no monkeys. N saw a long yellow tailed bird and there were tall trees with immense growths hanging off them. I washed my hair in a bucket in the river water which is always brown but is probably quite clean. It was very sunny and there was no wind at all until the evening. I slept in the hammock and read Exodus till lunch and Nicholas sat in the front. Lunch was very good, duck soup with rice and tomatoes which tasted peculiar, we had two helpings each and were replete afterwards. It got hotter and hotter and at three thirty we stopped at a very large village which had an enormous church; it looked as if it had two storeys. It was fantastically hot and we were quite pleased we could not go off the boat. The Captain went off with his documents and was gone about thirty minutes while we expired. There were masses of military on the island and the Captain appeared with three very important ones who inspected the boat. We went off and there was a gorgeous breeze, I sat with my legs in the water and Nicholas was in the hammock. Our enemies are much more chirpy today and have started again on childish games. We had fish mixed with rice for supper and we stopped just before it got dark at a fairly large village where we spent the night and walked around and saw strange things on poles, circles made of leaves. It got dark very quickly and after having drinks which tasted like inca cola we had difficulty in finding our way back to the boat and fell down ditches and I collected terrible insects between my toes. The mosquitoes were extremely bad and we had a troubled night, it was fantastically hot and I had recurring claustrophobia and the mosquitoes came in and attacked. Fortunately there was a tremendous rainstorm which made it much cooler and the mosquitoes subsided. Our suitcase should have arrived in London today with my Rabbit Mimi inside.
It was still raining when the boat started off at six and Nicholas was slow in getting up. We sat in our cabin until the water got too rough and had dry rolls and coffee for breakfast. Towards the middle of the morning it got lighter and the Captain gave us papaya with dressing on it. I read Darkness at Noon. We stopped very briefly to buy what looked like asparagus. The Captain told us we had joined up with the Maranon, there was a river to our left. So we are now the Amazon; it doesn’t feel much wider. We saw a passenger boat, the largest boat so far. For lunch we ate a curious animal, we saw it hanging up. It looked rather cat shape and had claws. The meat was very white. We had delicious noodles and potato like things in the soup. Quite early in the morning a tiny boat empty, was drifting fast down the river se we stopped and now it is stolen property on our boat. It was lovely and sunny in the afternoon. There was a great surprise after supper – Iquitos was sighted. We arrived before the sun set and tied up next to lots of little boats with funny houses on them made of dried leaves. We got off after dark – it took ages to moor the boat and Cheno, the nice crew cut boy who always does the tying up had to swim ashore with the rope. We paid the Captain 400,100 less than our enemies. A little man collected us on the shore and carried our suitcase on his shoulder past little dark houses and rabid looking dogs up onto the street and along a modern looking street to the Hotel International where we got a room which is minute and quite depressing, though not too bad, we have no window and the light is atrocious. We think there will be mosquitoes. However, there are nice showers. We waked around and bought quite a nice bun and listened to a military band play badly in a square. Iquitos is larger than we expected and has paved streets and quite a few cars, many Ford Anglias. We walked round the expensive area and went past a huge touristy hotel with parrots in one of the windows and birds with huge fat bills. We had delicious ? ice cream and one orange cream Huntley and Palmer biscuit which cost one sole. But it was quite delicious. We had showers and made out an efficient list for the morning.
It was pouring with rain when we got up and we had an unsuccessful trip to the Chinese oculist who talked away very fast and loud the whole time. We had great difficulty in finding café con leche and bought a Walls pork pie from the Booth Company who have a shop of frozen food, ice creams too. It rained most of the morning but we walked under the ledges on the roofs of the houses so didn’t get wet. Eventually we found coffee in an expensive place called Charles Snack Bar. We found a nice boy in the Amazon Travel place. There were lots of Indian things like feathers and armadillo shells. We think we probably ate one yesterday. We bought large, very hot buns and funny pieces of meat inside them. It got very hot and we walked all the way along to the market which was very smelly and was infested by horrid vultures. We bought things like scissors and a papaya which was disappointing as it was slightly unripe. We replaced the Bulgarian basket and saw an interesting settlement of houses which were built on mud, partly submerged by water. We rested in our hotel and then set off for a long search for an oculist and got on a bus to go to a clinic run by 7th Day Adventists. We didn’t find an oculist but a nice lady told us about an exciting journey in Pucallpa. We went back into the town and had success, or so we think, with the spectacles. We had delicious chocolate ice cream and visited the air force place which caused tremendous indecision as the earliest flight to Pucallpa is on March 4th. So we think we will stay here nine days and find a nicer hotel. We walked down to the river and slid around in mud, It is really filthy down there and I think my feet may get infected. Our boat had moved. We saw poor men carrying great sheets of corrugated iron on their backs up and down the steps. Our supper consisted of delicious beans in a tin and disappointing sausages. We had a short rest and wandered about looking for a cheaper hotel but were not very persistent. We walked to the large square and went to the place called Alaska and watched all the little Chiclet? Boys eating their supper. We saw our enemies, giggling as usual on their way to the cinema. We went to our ice cream place, which is becoming a habit. Tomorrow we start eating a good diet and we have to buy our tickets to Pucallpa and very early we collect Nicholas’s spectacles. The light in our room is exceedingly bad and can hardly see to write the diary.
It was burning sun when we set off to collect Nicholas’s spectacles, of course they were wrong so we were to see the oculist at four. For breakfast we had toast and butter. We spent quite a long time in the market buying our lunch, delicious papaya and walked round endlessly in great heat finding horrid crackly bread, eventually we found nice buns. Then we combed the town for a hat for Nicholas, finally finding an enormous straw one in the market, very conspicuous but it is very shady and has a piece of red tape though it otherwise it would blow off with the first gust of wind. All the men selling ice creams wear them. We bought a new, small torch and met a nice Frenchman in the bank who says he will come to our hotel one day and take us off in his car. He had worked in Brazil and North America and we hope he will come to our hotel as he may be quite useful. It seemed to get hotter and hotter even though we walked in the shade of the houses, over sleeping pigs and dogs in the direction of the airport alongside a little river which was very smelly and vultures hopped around. We walked miles along the runway and the sun was incredibly hot. We sat in the airport eating cheese and tomato rolls, watching Satco passengers go thro’ customs. It seemed impossible to hitch a ride anywhere so we ate our papaya in the shade of a tiny house and walked to the air force aeroplanes, several with floats were on the water. We walked past a dead snake, curled up. We had an exhausting walk back along the road; an old man walked behind us carrying a roof of a house on this head. The sky got black in the distance but still it was hot and I was incredibly thirsty. We bought our tickets to Pucallpa and waited in the oculist while Nicholas got his new spectacles. They are dark and quite like the old ones. We had delicious mokka ice creams and bought “The River Line”. We had a very pleasant surprise back at our hotel. The nice lady who we are continually beaming at and who obviously runs the hotel knocked on our door and said we could move into a nicer, larger and lighter room with a fan, paying the same price, maybe they saw us looking at other hotels, so we are very happy except her screaming kids wreck our peace. We searched for an eating place and ate in the square, N had tortilla and I had a delicious mixture of chicken and vegetable, then we had can can ice cream which tasted quite like toffee. For the rest of the evening we read our books – I finished “The River Line”.
It was raining when we got up but it soon stopped. We walked out of the American coffee place – twice they gave us cold milk – we found a cheap place near the market where it was better. We had a successful time buying fruit etc and set off in the direction of the Santa ? Hospital and started on an extremely long walk. The road was deserted, a few trucks, jeeps and Hondas passed by occasionally. It was not jungly to start with, there were a few houses and cows in fields. A truck gave us a short ride, driving with great speed. He dropped us off at a turning and we continued on, it was getting hotter and the clouds were in the distance. The road was soft and sandy with puddles and bad patches. It was quite jungly either side of the road, thick undergrowth and funny insects and bird noises. We saw dragon flies and butterflies and an array of red and black ants crossing the road. Nicholas diverted them with his machete and they proved quite intelligent. There were several dwellings on the way, some with just roofs and no sides. We saw natives cutting down the undergrowth and some of the trees had been burned. At about twelve thirty we reached the Fish Museum which is in a large lake. We saw giant black fish in the ponds and a little one with a red underneath. We ate our lunch on the landing stage and had a delicious ? and papaya. The fish, small ones chased after fruit skins. We saw a dear little turtle, perched on a branch in the water; he was collecting flies and soon swam away. We walked on, a long way, past a place which made bricks and came to the end of the road, a track went into the distance but we decided to turn round and walked back, it rained quite hard and it was refreshing although we did not manage to drink much. At a cross road we ate our interesting fruit which was very sweet and quite juicy. Further on we met a native chewing a wild guava; he gave us one which consisted of many pips and was rock hard. We went back to Iquitos in his truck which was filling up with white sand. All the people were very friendly and gave us a spray of small blackish berries, we hope they won’t affect us badly. On the way our truck pulled a larger one out of the mud. We arrived back and had delicious drinks and ice cream. Nicholas read Exodus and I wrote the diary and then Nicholas suffered from beriberi, a disease incurred by the berries we were given. We are both rather sad and it is pouring with rain. We eventually went outside but managed to keep dry under the roofs. A disgusting supper, hard fried eggs and gritty rice at the second heledaria. Then we rushed off to have mocca ice cream but it was closed. We bought pink ice creams off the other place and went home. We saw a cat walking along the roofs in the rain, Iquitos is deserted at night and everywhere seems to be closed. The large square is more active, yesterday we saw a group of men playing guitars and doing a funny dance underneath the large statue. Tomorrow we are going off to the Nanay river and we hope to swim. We must try and get up earlier, my letter has to be posted and we have to go to the market. We are both very tired after our long walk.
We bought disappointing fruit in the market, an immense overripe papaya and a tasteless lime. We had delicious café con leche and mocca ice cream and set off in our bus along the road past the clinic and walked the last part, past middle class houses. We arrived at the end of the road and saw the Nanay river, slow flowing and about a quarter of a mile wide with little boats on it and houses at the other side. We found a boat, not a kayak but a small rowing boat, red and grey with one paddle. The lady who owned it lived in a house on stilts half in the water. So we started off, the boat rocking dangerously at our every movement and it felt as if it was capsizing. For ages Nicholas paddled about in a maze of little channels formed by bushes growing in the water and having missed our way to the river, we found ourselves in a lake with trees on all sides and calm dark water. We saw an old couple fishing from a kayak and paddled right to the far end of the lake before we realised there was no way out so all the way back we went and arrived in the river as rain clouds were gathering. We crossed to the far bank and tied up to a rock made of clay. It started pouring as we were eating our sardine sandwiches and a kind lady let us sit in her house. In pouring rain we crossed back and made our way to the house on stilts and made the mistake of giving 10 soles to the lady’s quite small son. We were quite pleased to have finished our boat ride as paddling was hard work – on our way off for a drink, the lady caught us and said her son had not given her the money, we were not sure whether she was being crafty or not. Anyway eventually both the children were searched but no sign of the money, just as we were about to give up, I spied it stuck in the eaves of her house and from her expression when we gave it to her, we thought she was guilty. We started walking home and halfway a nice jeep gave us a ride. We had delicious mocca ice cream and went to the market for my clothes line – it was extremely crowded and stank of fish and vultures stalked about on rubbish heaps. In the evening we had delicious supper at the Bambi and saw Zorba the Greek – quite atrocious. There were quite a few Americans there.
Nicholas read Exodus and I re-read The River Line and we got up about twelve. The market was stinking and nearly empty. We walked round Belem and saw charred remains of the fire. We tried to find the museum and spent the afternoon reading in great heat, attacked by spiders and ants out of trees. The town is deserted and I wish it was Monday. We had supper, delicious chips and coffee and had very English biscuit afterwards. We walked to the main square and saw The Horse Without a Head - Walt Disney. We sat in the balcony on hard benches with scores of children who were a wonderful audience and very noisy. There were scores of little boys with Chiclet boxes and it was stiflingly hot. We walked round and round the square afterwards and listened to songs played very loudly by the ? party, later there was a speech by the Minister of something but we went home. Nicholas immersed himself again in Exodus and I took up the blue and white dress. It rained as we went to bed.
Nicholas got up very droopy and remained so all day. We had a fruitless search for fried eggs but found none, expensive buns and ice cream before wandering rather aimlessly around. We visited the boy in Amazon tours, bought a very expensive post card for Ursula and set off slowly to the lake, along past the airport. The lake was rather interesting, lots of logs made into rafts and floating houses. It was cloudy and dark so we ate our lunch in an empty building with no sides and the papaya was not perfect but better than the last one. Nicholas did not feel strong enough for a kayake ride so we went back in pouring rain along a different road past an interesting cemetery where the bodies were buried in identical boxes in enormous boxes. Our room had been cleaned and we had clean blankets. It was pouring with rain harder than before so we retired to bed and slept; Nicholas stayed behind while I made an abortive attempt to post Ursula’s card and bought a furtive bun, quite enormous and expensive. We had ice creams and had a great success in changing the Seymour book for A King’s Story. We sat in the tourist hotel and heard a horrid American conversation. We had delicious supper in the Bambi and saw our enemies in the cinema in the large square – they had failed to book on the aeroplane and were staying in Iquitos for fifteen days. We read our books and had a fruitless search for a bun.
We spent the morning reading by the river and had lunch of sardine sandwiches and a brown skinned fruit, orange inside with an enormous stone. We went back to our hotel and the excitement of the day was that Nicholas found a Honda for 25 an hour so off we went to Qiste Coche?. I was quite frightened, the road was bumpy and skiddy. We had a brief swim, the water was warm but saw no turtles or interesting fish. Except one tickled me. We took the turning to the left on the way back but it led to a dead end. So we went homewards, stopping to explore the jungle and we fell off just as lots of men were staring. It was very undignified. We arrived back at six and had delicious supper in the place near us. Noodles and meat and chips. Later on we saw an English movie. Very bad but I enjoyed it. Nicholas gave me a fright in the middle.
We woke up and I felt bad-tempered. Nicholas felt ill. We did not go to the market spent the morning most lazily – Nicholas wrote to his parents. I sent off a PC. It was extremely hot all day and we were very greedy, we had egg and potatoes for lunch and two ice creams each afterwards. We caught a bus to the Nanay river, could find no Kayak and walked all the way home, stopping to read by the international pier where we watched a Booth boat being unloaded, in great heat. We found they had made a hash of my dress. We returned to the hotel and my clothes line fell down twice. We had delicious supper in the usual place where they understand us – a mixture of rice and meat and ? chips and tomato. We saw a movie called Young Cassidy – autobiography of Sean O’Casey which was quite good and sat in the balcony on stone steps which were quite comfortable.
We got up very late and the sun was shining – in fact it hasn’t rained for days. We had good coffee in the place the little man keeps so clean and spent a desultory morning trying to go to the bank, have café con leche and collect my dresses and find deodorant. Nicholas had two ice creams and we retired to our hotel. I finished my book about water holes and bought a watery orange and delicious biscuits from the market which seemed to be closing down. The heat is enormous. We met the curious Frenchman, and he took us off in his jeep down to his sawmill very close to the Amazon. It was a nice road, very muddy in places. We got out when a truck got stuck in the mud and were attacked viciously by small red ants. The road became quite jungly, lots of banana trees and thick undergrowth. We saw rose bushes and a bird with a yellow tail. All the dogs rushed and barked at us and the Frenchman hooted his horn incessantly at people walking and on Hondas. We arrived back and collected my dresses before having delicious supper and ice cream. Nicholas had four today, thus breaking his record. Tomorrow we fly to Pucallpa and are getting up at five. We heard the nice people who run our hotel having a violent quarrel.
We woke up at five of our own accord and set off in the direction of the airport, catching an empty bus on the way. We waited for hours, having had our luggage weighed which amounted to fifty kilos so we put the blue sleeping bag in too. Then it was put into the little aeroplane, my dear little suitcase being horribly squashed under the rest of the luggage and there is a giant crack in it. We saw an English family, the father with an over aristocratic voice, a Priscilla type mother and a conceited son. At ten it was announced our aeroplane was not leaving until tomorrow. As we were drinking our second cup of coffee the airline man we met yesterday found us and took us off in his blue car to his apartment in the rich part of the town. It has a bathroom though the water is temperamental and a rocking chair. It was enormously hot and sweat poured down all day. We went to the bank and post office, had ice cream and rice pud and at half past twelve he came along and took us off for lunch – we had delicious food, the best Peruvian food so far – pork chop and fish and potatoes and a mysterious yellow drink in ketchup bottles. Afterwards we read – he lent us a trashy American murder. We went off into the burning heat and found the museum shut and bought deodorant and had ice cream. We had a lovely shower and wondered whether the nameless man would collect us for supper. We are very worried about getting up in the morning – our aeroplane being meant to leave at six. We went outside and walked down to the Bamber where we had lomo saltado and a yellow fruit drink called Yula which was made of the drink which often smells foul in the streets. We went to bed quite early in view of the morning and Nicholas killed an enormous black cockroach scurrying around the room.
Nicholas woke at five and off we went again. We caught a bus and arrived at six. Just as we were having coffee the loudspeaker told us the aeroplane was leaving so we rushed off and found it to be very different from ordinary planes with seats along the sides. We took off at seven and in spite of being next to the wings had quite a good view of the jungle and muddy rivers with oxbow lakes. There were little clearings in the jungle and tiny native villages. Toward the end it became quite bumpy and we were in a cloud. We arrived in a strange part of Pucallpa and found our way to the ? place where an empty bus was outside but not due to leave till six. We bought tickets to Cerro de Pasco and got seats right at the front. It poured with rain and the streets were sticky, slippery mud and had great trouble with my shoes. We bought cheese and had very milky coffee and visited the holy book shop and posted my letter. The stamps were all Father Christmas ones. We sat in the bus place. Nicholas read his book and we heard nice music for the first time in months – probably Swan Lake and the Nutcracker Suite. My pen has gone quite broken. I am very bored while Nicholas reads his book, except for the music. Soon we will have lovely fried eggs and chips down by the river. Now the record is Carmen and is being played on a very scratchy 78 record. We killed the time till six and had delicious egg and chips in the place overlooking the river. We had front seats in the bus – one drawback, a horrid smelly lady who perpetually encroached on our space. The driver was quite daring and drove past trucks stuck in the mud. We had cheese sandwiches for our supper, further on we got stuck again and again behind lines of trucks wallowing in mud.
We slept on our sleeping bag on the ground as there was a long line of trucks ahead. There were no mosquitos and we got up at four and made quick progress until breakfast, everyone had eggs and rice. We stood outside in the rain watching a family of white ducks. A few miles further on we found a landslide and it looked very formidable to move, the natives seemed to think so and there was great discussion between them and the passengers of the bus as to how much they should be paid for removing the roots and rocks and earth. The matter was dropped and the bus passengers started digging. Nicholas became very energetic and worked practically non-stop till three when it was all clear, obviously gaining admiration from the funny man in khaki who paid for our supper later on. We were given bananas as a reward from the nicest fat lady and an orange from another. I saw an enormous black ant which a boy cut in two. And a curious insect looking rather like a twig. So off we went to Tingo Maria in lovely sun, we saw an overturned truck on the river bank. We met a fair Peace Corps boy, the one with the Peruvian lady we saw in Pucallpa. We had coffee with them and then tore off and arrived on the stroke of five, just in time to be let through the one way road. We had a lovely drive up the mountainous road, there was a rushing river which we lost when we came to the top and started down the other side. We stopped and had soup and coffee in an upstairs room, in the company of the Peace Corps boy who proved disappointing. We reached Huanuco at ten and went and had a really good piece of meat cooked by the nice lady. We set off again and had a fairly horrid night very little sleep, even though we had moved seats and the nice tourist sat in front. There was a curious family who kept guinea pigs in white bags and the father and the nice man with the little girl with fair streaked hair started fighting, very harmlessly though. The smelly lady had vanished. Our seats were right over the wheel and we itched from the vibration.
The early part of the morning was spent in getting past trucks and cars until we reached Cerro de Pasco, a really bleak town 14,000 feet up. There was snow on some of the roofs. We saw llamas with ribbons tied in their ears. I saw tiny hairy guinea pigs eating grass. We stopped and had foul coffee and bought good rolls for our cheese. We reached Oraya and decided against going by train – it takes seven hours to Huanayco whereas the bus took only two. The country is very bleak but nice, we went through a valley with very high mountains either side. We were on minute excessively uncomfortable seats, the road was quite good, paved most of the way. We bought some delicious potatoey things to eat from a little girl. We reached Huanayco and found a bus leaving for Ayacucho. I raced all the way to the post office and all the way back and of course the bus was late. We ate English type donuts and Nicholas bought four buns for the journey – it will last for about ten hours and we will have spent our third night on the bus and it will be our fourth free night. H seems like quite an ordinary Peruvian town, very cold and the women look like Ecuadorian women wearing masses of clothes and those curious men’s hats, some made out of strange white material, our fellow passengers are mostly Indian with their gigantic white sacks. The bus arrived at seven, a really old one. We got front seats and wrapped ourselves up in our sleeping bags as it was freezing. We stopped incessantly to fill up with water, cross a ? torrent and have supper in a very primitive little place. We bought rolls and finished our supper with delicious sweeties. We both slept quite a lot.
We arrived at Ayacucho at about nine and a funny old man found Nicholas when he was looking for buses – he was very eccentric and had a wife who was a professor at Lincoln, Nebraska. He gave us a delicious enormous cup of coffee and drifted in and out while we were drinking. We got onto a bus thanks to a nice boy in a green sweater. We disrupted the whole bus and eventually left having bought immense tomatoes. Our seats were very uncomfortable – on the wheel. It was very dusty and we climbed for hours, once getting stuck in a line of trucks because of a landslide. Then it got quite cold and there were herds of cattle but no llamas. There were large mountains and pools of browney water and green mountainous grass. The road became extremely bumpy and at four thirty, having descended quite a distance into a green valley with high mountains either side, we bought some curious rolls which were quite good with cheese and tomato and very cheap oranges. Further on we stopped at a guard post and then for supper. We drove down the mountains for quite a long way, through cacti growing orangey fruit. It got dark when we reached the bottom and went alongside a wide muddy river. The road was surprisingly dry. We stopped and took on about twelve more people, turning the whole bus into chaos. Mostly mothers with screaming children on their backs. Eventually we started off again and it got freezing cold. The bus stopped, delivering parcels off the top. We reached Andahuaylas at midnight, the bus ran out of petrol as we parked for the last time. We found a hotel run by some Americans, holy fathers. We had a very disconcerting entrance, greeted by an enormous dog and two drunkards. We had a room with two beds but only slept in one. And used a candle and the lavatory was disgusting.
There was a violent hammering on our door and the boy appeared demanding passports and Nicholas had to go off to the police station and he found a truck going to Abancay so we set off at nine with lots of nice people – two boys who will be on our bus tomorrow, one wearing a white llama fair hat. After driving round the town we set off and climbed high. We were sitting on our sleeping bags on top of sacks, quite comfortable and it became very cold as we went ? a cloud. Again the country is very bleak and we saw herds of llamas and alpacas, we can’t distinguish between them. The young ones are very attractive with snowy white ? Saw lots of potatoes with purple flowers and wheat – our truck carried the mail so we dropped off letters to people at the side of the road. We had a large lunch, very cheaply – soup, beans and rice, a funny turnippy thing in a nice batter and a cooked apple, then coffee – we sat opposite a secret policeman. The funny lady in the truck gave us ? sweeties and we went miles downhill and saw Abancay two hours before we reached it, zigzagging down the sides of mountains. We crossed a bridge built 400 years ago and arrive at the town which is very sleepy and attractive, with narrow streets and nice flowers in the small square which naughty children were picking. We bought new blue sandals and a coke – the first one for ages and two delicious looking apples. Our hotel is nice though with a foul lavatory. The bus leaves tomorrow at eight thirty and we will reach Cuzco in about eight hours.
[Start of new diary, hence duplicate entry for 9.3.1966]
Arrived in Abancay by truck and met two nice boys and a secret policeman. Country was mountainous with llamas and potatoes. Cheap meal consisting solely of veg. Abancay, a nice, peaceful town with hotel with bad light, so we bought a light bulb.
Perilous bus journey over gigantic mountains. Stopped by a large, fast flowing river and it was very hot. The country became green and fertile with walled gardens. Climbed again into snowy mountains and it was cold when we arrived in Cusco and found surprisingly cheap hotel – sort of dormitory with snoring guardia next door. Bought lovely llama slippers and met a funny Yank who bought an 80 cents ?
Wearisome train journey to Machu Picchu – peasants smelling with foul sacks. Met Uri and Leslie and had a strained day. Climbed hill with Frenchman. Rivers fairly dull but scenery magnificent. Hot showers and slept in ruins.
Woke, everything dripping wet. Expensive coffee. Foul journey back – wandered round Cusco and saw flower loving couple, Frenchman and wet English girl in tourist hotel.
Missed bus to Pisac and went by truck with girls singing Spanish Marseille. Exhausting mountain climb with Uri, Leslie, funny Peace Corps boy. Llama slippers and furry hat. Procession to church – conch horns. American and German tourists, fat and unattractive. Back in crowded truck – supper with “the gang” – spaghetti – others had expensive steak.
Nicholas felt ill. Long unexciting journey to Puno – children shitting everywhere and little to see. Met nice teddy bear who gave us large supper and found expensive hotel.
I feel ill – we travel to a small dark town by truck, slept in a dingy hotel, the Pullman?
It was sunny when we left Peru and walked into Bolivia by the side of Lake Titicaca which was vivid blue and we saw hordes of donkeys and jumping frogs. The rest of the day was spent in Copacabana, an attractive red roofed town on the lake and had coffee and beer in the most expensive hotel.
A nice journey to La Paz, broken by a turbulent ferry crossing. La Paz is a seedy town and were perpetually exhausted by climbing hills. Spent the evening with a charming Bolivian non-English speaking couple – she looked like Margot Fonteyn. The hotel was very new and clean.
Spent a cold grey day visiting park, zoo and museum – eating avocado pears and arranging departure. Spent evening with the Bolivian couple drinking distilled grape juice and eating monster corn.
A desert journey to Oruro in gigantic bus. Nicholas feeling seedy. Ate grapes and had trying time finding hotel. Met bearded enormous Swiss.
Desert bus ride to little wide street town and stayed in funny hotel with dusty bed room and top hatted Indian lady who cooked and charged for special supper. Watched guardia dancing congo round bonfire and met Swiss boy again.
Waited hours for truck in burning heat and wrote to the little ? Truck to Hauri? And had delicious supper and narrowly missed train. First class compartment with little sleep. Horrid smelling animals suspended from luggage rack.
Delicious breakfast with Swiss. Cold, salty desert with smoking volcanoes. Customs men searching fat old ladies with voluminous suitcases. We passed salt lakes and tiny dusty stations. Arrive in Antofagasta which seemed gigantic.
A terrible start to the day – improved enormously. Swiss boy vanished and we were taken about by nice Bolivian boy and went to police station and horses playing about. Coffee with policemen and English-speaking wife. Slept in bunks.
Truck through desert – lemon biscuits and lunch of tender steak and greenery in middle of the desert. Peaches in drab little town, grey and cold. Copiapo and found truck – had bad sleep for two hours.
Short sleep by side of road – oil tanker freewheeling dangerously down hills to La Serena – truck to Limache – two nice, young boy who we stayed with.
Delicious coffee in grape filled garden – all seemed rather French with tiny kittens. Pleasant train to Santiago. Stephanie met us – found Ricky playing football. Drink in Santiago and empanados.
Up at one. Races in sunshine and lost three escudos. Ritsy evening in suburbs.
We collected disappointing letters and Spedding proved charming [David Spedding (later Sir David Spedding KCMG CVO OBE (7 March 1943 – 13 June 2001) was head of the British Secret Intelligence Service (MI6) from 1994 to 1999). was introduced to us by a friend. He was working for the Consulate but it was probably for the Secret Service as very many years later I was amazed to hear he had become the Head of the Secret Service (MI6). When we both got employment at the UK consulate, David invited us to stay in the maid's room in his large house and we joined him in the many social activities of the British community. We had no idea that he may have been in the secret service if he was at that time - he became its head in 1994 having moved to the middle east and then returned to Santiago from 1972-1974. This posting coincided with the CIA-backed overthrow of the Allende government by the military dictator, General Pinochet. He appeared fascinated by James Bond films].
Nicholas managed to change £20 into dollars and we had a most exciting time with the newspaper – were photographed, five times outside the Congress building. We hope for great things tomorrow. Nicholas slept the entire afternoon and Stephanie and I had English type doughnut with lovely apricot filling. Senora Alicia washed two of our shirts with startling rapidity and astonishingly they are now spotless. We went out to an expensive place in the suburbs, along an avenue of trees. We had quite a nice evening and had a delicious sandwich, beef and avocado. We arrived home at four.
It was a freezing day though sunny. No letters. We read newspapers at the British Council along with two ghastly ladies with affected voices. Lunch was macaroni and I washed all the clothes afterwards. We had a nice dinner with Spedding.
I feel drab – it is grey and cold and horrid. Podded beans and the American girl came to lunch – she was as expected. We went off to a seedy race track and lost money – then to the girl’s apartment which was pretty sterile. Our picture was in the paper with a crappy article.
We spent a fruitful morning collecting letters, changing money, getting a Paraguayan visa and reading British Council newspapers where we met a ginger haired rather gloomy Englishman who had come from New Zealand. We arrived back late for lunch, stew and corn and had delicious rich tea – chocolate cake in an expensive place. We listened to the Election with the underlings at the F.O.
Great excitement was that we were scheduled to go on telly – when we arrived we were told the transmitter had broken – the party was okay – except for a drama over the fire Brigade – we had whisky in Spedding’s house which is Victorian and enormous.
The morning was spent washing, buying vegetables and fruit in the market and making fish pie, a fairly hectic procedure which involved great delay over lunch and spilling? in the vegetable pot. Nicholas and Ricky went off to play baby football. I wrote many letters and at nine thirty the AID couple arrived and we went off to the striptease which was disappointing, only one lady stripped and there were dirty jokes we didn’t understand. We ate expensive shrimps and Russian salad in the American’s apartment and got home at two.
David arrived at ten and we drove off to the sea – it was a lovely sunny day. We had a very expensive lunch – locos. The beach was deserted and the sea cold. We drove back to Santiago and had lovely hot baths in David’s apartment.
We got up late and had a fruitless morning trying to change money – Stephanie went off to the American Women of Chile and we had a busy afternoon buying a potato masher and box of very expensive biscuits. Christopher Smith failed to find Nicholas a job. We had an expensive evening, first having cheap dinner, Ricky excelled himself with dirty jokes – we went to a ruinous place with singers and flags on tables and met a horrible boring Rotarian. We arrived home at four.
A dull morning and will be quite pleased to leave tomorrow I think even though leaving is always a great strain. We collected letters and said goodbye to Sped and the nice porter and saw the nice girl Wendy in the British Council and saw Mr Whistler and the bearded man who gave us good prospect of jobs. Spent the evening in an unsettled state as a result.
At twelve we arrived at the B.C. and found we had jobs, paid exactly the same, 12 escudos. Then we met Mr Macdonald, something to do with the Economist and drove out to Claud Whistler’s enormous house where we met his wife who is exactly like a vicar’s wife. We had delicious plum tart. The rest of the day was spent in doing nothing. Ricky’s father was quite drunk all evening.
The morning was spent as usual. We visited the tailor. We changed money and I bought a dress with Vivien, the nice girl in the Embassy. A very drunken evening was spent in throwing wine glasses at a horrible man and being sick.
We felt funny and had potato chips for lunch. Our television appearance was disappointing – we hardly said two words. We had funny corn in leaves for supper.
We bought Easter cows and shopped in the market and it was spaghetti for lunch. Stephanie and Ricky went to the races and we climbed the hill in a funicular – San Cristobal. We walked home – miles, and bought four easter eggs and had dreary supper and searched for green knickers and writing paper and listened to classical music. We are quite looking forward to leave and hope for Spedding to invite us or arrange for us to go to the Bomba.
Easter Day! We had our Easter cows and a domestic morning was spent. We went to the races with Phyllis and Bob – it was cold and drab. Ricky lost a fortune and spaghetti for supper. I scorched Ns shirt.
We arrived early at work and hung around waiting for Claude Whistler and work and typewriters to be found. We had a very relaxed day and had chops at home for lunch. We had tea with the old gentleman of 77 – delicious orange biscuits and got two books out of the library. We realised we have to move from the Fuentes household and no call from Spedding so we are quite unhappy.
I had a very lazy day at work and had delicious coffee and two teas as was called down to talk English to lots of students. At lunch, we met Spedding who was talking to New Zealand boys and we rushed back to the Fuentes house and packed our things and dashed to David’s house arriving at work late but no one seems to mind. So we have broken with the gloomy household. We had a trying evening, trudging around, N with hurting feet and no money, buying our supper and arrived at our new house and cooked delicious scrambled eggs and met Philip the fair boy who lives with David. We sleep in the maid’s room and have our own tiny bathroom.
We are driven to work – typed stencils and had coffee with Peter Harrison who I am typing for. Again a very lazy day – we had a frustrating time changing money – the lady looked thoroughly suspicious and at lunchtime we were unsuccessful. Stephanie showed little interest in seeing us and we dragged Ricky off to the tailor and bought a cheap, quite nice checked shirt before changing money. Ricky drove us home and we had coffee on the way, feeling awful as dropped endless hints about not coming to the house – we bought lard instead of butter and consequently ate disgusting scrambled eggs. We are both very tired.
Again we had a lackadaisical day except for our lunch hour which was spent in changing money and looking for barbers. I typed invitations all afternoon and made a muck of it. We both had our hairs cut, in a funny little arcade with pictures of lady weight lifters. We arrived home after waiting for a bus for at least forty minutes and found the gas out of order, it was very unhappy and we had sandwiches instead of macaroni.
We had delicious toast and coffee in the town owing to the gas shortage. Peter Harrison invited us to stay with him which is very convenient as the Bomba is having internal quarrels. We ate a kilo of grapes for lunch and cheese sandwiches and changed lots of dollars. We went to get Nicholas’ suit which was a bit disappointing, so left it behind to have the padding taken out of the shoulders. We had a very successful supper of macaroni and I was very domestic and washed etc while Nicholas read this book unmolested. David arrived back and gave us whisky and too much water. We went to bed very late and I had toothache.
Scrambled eggs for breakfast and the house was cold and dank so we went outside and walked past the rich houses. David came back and took us off to the Prince of Wales Country Club and saw some dreadful people playing cricket, an old stupid man umpiring in white and a stupid man with a stripey blazer. I agree with Stephanie and think it is obnoxious. It is a very grey day and depressing outside. We had a deadly time in Ricky’s house, the only amusement was Ricky’s father with 4,000 escudos carrying a litre of wine in each hand and followed by two friends. Ricky’s sister was pretty dreary. We saw a splendid war movie about the air force which Ricky thought took place in America and had very, quite cheap steak.
We arrived at Peter Harrison’s house and found Marie Angelica and Peter Standen and Andre Gueblisky? - a terrible little man. Lunch was strained and found Peter Harrison to be quite nice. The house is a very super bungalow, a long way from the centre. I feel great Sunday afternoon depression and we arrive at the theatre and see very well from the top, “The Public ?” and a dull Shaw, I sell programmes, very few. We have a sandwich with David and go home.
Usual work. Two letters. It was a rainy, dark day. At lunch we rushed off to the tailor and became very angry – Nicholas went again after work and I waited in the garden for David to unlock the door. Fish pie for supper.
Horrid spaghetti for lunch. The second Pinter play is quite incomprehensible and I sell only three programmes. Ricky and Stephanie come and are bored. Nicholas buys Ricky’s sued shoes. Scrambled eggs for supper
Type some of N’s work. At lunchtime spend ages buying butter and read. Lovely potato cake for supper and salad and very expensive ham. The boys were in briefly, then out. We saw the maid, a nice lady. We pass our days very pleasantly but don’t do very much in the evenings we are very lazy. David Spedding is always out on diplomatic functions and he has a superiority complex but we no longer feel inferior. We quite enjoy our work but will be quite glad to leave in the middle of May. We have lunch from 12.30 to 2.30 and twice have had sandwiches – sometimes we have disgusting meals, greasy casuele.
We were woken very early by a dripping roof. It was lovely and sunny by lunch time. I read the L Shaped Room at lunch. We had a tiresome day, getting out of Diana’s dreadful coffee party and my typewriter went wrong – the capital letters did not come out properly. I typed lots of Nicholas’ invoices, we both made mistakes and stayed later till half past six and saw Christopher Smith’s sexy wife. We have a supper of asparagus soup which had to be rebought and scrambled eggs. I am enjoying the Wayward Bus, by John Steinbeck very much. This weekend we are going with Stephanie and Ricky to the sister’s vineyard who has a figure like a bullock. We may go on Friday or Saturday morning. We hope to go on Saturday morning so we can see the country. I am sitting on the sofa and Phillip talks on and on about accounting. I think he must be very weak, he is very pale with red rimmed eyes. Our room is exceedingly damp. We have fleas in our bags and never catch them. It is freezing cold in this house. Soon we will have to move to Harrisons house who is not over friendly. Peter Hewitt has been out for ages and Whistler has just come back. Bianca wore a horrid white hat with shiny things on, like the ladies wear who shop in Kleins and on 14th Street. Nicholas’ firm used to do the Royal family’s tax. Very strange. Its now a very sleepy time and go to bed.
It was quite a nice day and had successful time changing money and had disgusting lunch. A very busy afternoon and met Mrs Hewitt, a nice lady. We had a nothingness evening and Philip’s sister came, another nice lady.
We got up at two having been called up by Diana at nine in the morning. We decided to go to Valparaiso after lengthy discussion. It was a beautiful day, quite hot. We sat in a little park and read our books waiting for a bus and set off in a very old bus and went through beautiful poplar country and up and down hills and into darkness. We arrived and found a nice clean hotel called Herzog that was like a ship. We walked and found delicious supper, locos and tiny striped shrimps – served by a nice fat lady. We walked back past the arch donated by the British Colony. It has a nice lion on top. We ate grapes and went to bed.
Nicholas slept very badly due to fleas and noise so we got up at 11.15 and made off for the ? centre of course they were closed for Sundays so we trotted up the hills past slummy houses, mangy dogs and cats and children flying tiny kites. We bought locos which were deshelled and beaten in a large tyre. We wandered down again to the docks and looked at boats. Salina from Liverpool and a New York boat. We had delicious shrimps in a cosy place for lunch and watched the docks again and boys catching sardines and I saw a large crab in a corner caught by boys. We liked Valparaiso even though we didn’t see hundreds and hundreds of steps and funiculars stretching for miles as we saw in the movie. We had a nice journey back, though a poor man with a chronic pain. grimaced and winced away but would not sit down. We briefly visited Stephanie and ironed N’s shirt and collected the waistcoat. Ricky was out again.
Quite a nice day. We toiled to the market in our lunch hour and had a grey time buying bad tomatoes and things from horrid old women. Delicious omelette and chips for lunch. Philip was ill in bed when we got home and David was wearing his fire uniform having been to two funerals. He was very civil and took us out to dinner, we had snails and squids and it was quite good.
Mr Whistler discovered me reading a book and after lunch dictated a report on the Brenda Bruce Co. We had lunch with Diana and read in the library. I was exceedingly upset over the supper – chops and mashed potatoes and threw my share away, Very unhappy. Nicholas helped Phillip start his trolly bus? and gave us both a strong whiskey.
David got up late so we arrived at work late by bus and had a quarrel crossing the road which Whistle intruded on. I retyped the Brenda Bruce report and started the Annual Report, Nicholas reconciled whatever they are. Delicious tomato sandwiches for lunch. We were frustrated, shut out of the library and sat in the green corduroy chairs. Mr Hewitt invited us to supper on Tuesday and we got home early even though our huge trolley bus broke down again. The boys are out and I have been busy most of the evening – we had what turned out to be casuela and washed our extremely smelly, red towel.
We had an ordinary day. This is being written ten days later so most details are forgotten. I suffered from toothache all day so after work we went off to the dentist and were there for hours while holes were filled up with white paste and have an inflamed nerve.
A very sad letter arrived saying my poor cat ? has died and has been buried by the greenhouse. Usual work and in the evening, we went to Ricky and Stephanie’s house and hung around for hours before we went out for a disgusting supper of bloody meat and offal, cows udders and testicles. A fairly putrid evening and rushed home in a taxi.
Nicholas was ill in the morning and threw up. David and I went off to buy aspirin but Nicholas recovered by the time we got back. In the evening went to Our Man Flint, quite an amusing movie
A lovely sunny day. Nicholas burned leaves and we went off to the races where we met Ricky who was rapidly losing 300 escudos. We ironed shirts in Ricky’s house and had tea time and escaped to go to Lawrence of Arabia.
No sign of Ricky to change money so we feel quite hurt as they are off to the States today. We ate disgusting fish pie for supper and heard David tell us stories he has told us three times before.
A nice dinner with the Hewitts – David was there and Diana.
Dinner with the Lowes?, quite nice
I feel tired all day and in the evening we go to have a drink with a second secretary called Alan Hird? Quite nice. Nicholas cooks scrambled eggs for supper.
Finish typing the Annual Report and type lots of silly invoices. We go to MacDonels party where everyone gets drunk on pisco, especially Sybil and we roll into bed
A beautiful sunny day and Nicholas read his book while I cooked macaroni. We went to see the movie theatre in the afternoon and Diana arrived to eat a disgusting supper – it had possibilities but there was not enough garlic and too many noodles. The soup had solidified and was revolting. We had a very boring evening, with Diana chattering wildly away, managing to be amusing every hour or so. She left after twelve and we were very sleepy and dropped into bed.
Our wedding anniversary. We had the remains of the macaroni for lunch and had baths and sticky cake in the Oriente. David and Ruth arrived back having been up all night. It was a very nice party. Diana gave us a record and we had scrambled eggs afterwards.
I typed the Annual Report and we had lunch with Sybil – delicious spinach cakey stuff and fruit salad and cream. David took us to the Whistler’s party and it was quite a nice evening – Diana was much discussed at dinner – it was rather disappointing food- some people stayed uninivited so the meat was cold and there wasn’t enough.
Our last day at work. We have a most indeterminate afternoon deciding when to leave – saying goodbye to everyone – so it was all a muddle. So we drifted home, running into David on the way so had a nice lift. We saw Thunderball, quite nice.
A grey day, cold – quite boring. Nicholas made a lovely bonfire and we stuck a potato in it which we had for tea and tasted a bit disgusting, of leaves. We read newspapers in the Library and had tea in the Institute. We ate dry fish pie for supper and cauliflower in white sauce. We stayed at home all evening and read The Mountain is Young – a dreadful book – we lay in bed without sleeping for ages – we counted up all our nights along the route and our honeymoon, without success.
We wake up with a jump at eleven and had lunch with Diana, a ham and egg sandwich as usual and it was a very very cold grey day – we hopped into the movies and saw “Lady L”, quite amusing with Loren, Ustinov and Niven. We changed money and had really delicious tea at the Institute, lovely scones. We saw Sybil and afterward had a rather dreadful time finding a bath mat for David, eventually after much discussion and general unhappiness bought a blue one – we spent hours getting home and arrived just at the same time as David and arranged to make prawn omelettes when they came back from the Stirling cocktail party and Nicholas managed the supper and I made two omelettes . He also lit the fire and I washed my hair. Tomorrow we go to Buenos Aires on the train. We are very excited. The train starts off at 7.45 in the morning which will be a horrible experience. I am drinking delicious gin.
It is dark and freezing cold when we get up and arrived at Mapocho very early in a trolley bus. We arrived at Los Andes at 9.30, having gone through indifferent countryside where we got on an uncomfortable little train with wooden seats. We went over quite snowy mountains, through little tunnels and the one two miles long that the lady got stuck in and all the cows were gr?ing etc. We did not manage to see Aconcagua but saw little clear greeny rivers. It got dark and it was a tedious journey to Mendoza where we waited for the next train for some time. Nicholas had a surfeit of wine and slept very easily. The Argentinian train is very comfortable and runs on a wider gauge so it goes faster.
We woke to see miles and miles of completely flat land, enormous fields with wire fences and black cattle. We saw swampy pools but no flamingos, but three funny little animals, perhaps tiny little deer. It was a sunny day and warm. We ate delicious meat empanados and gigantic sandwiches and coke. The train journey became quite boring, endless miles of flat pampas. We stopped at little stations and ate delicious food. We arrived in Buenos Aires at 6.45, the suburbs are huge and very poor looking. There seem to be three or four stations, with lovely coffee shops and things. We found a hotel very quickly and set off to change money and walked for miles along the widest street in the world and saw the spike in the centre and were constantly nearly run over by dangerous drivers. We had supper, very delicious soup with spinach and grated cheese on top. Then underdone chips and egg. We walked along a road, barred to traffic, very crowded, past cinemas and restaurants with poor animals all ?ing , whole, even though it was a no meat rationing day. We had a tiny coke and beer in the restaurant nearby our hotel and both felt tired.
We set off at eleven, a lovely, sunny, windy day and had delicious media lunes? and coffee in the station before walking miles to the docks, we saw an old sailing boat and hundreds of boats and the River Plate which is really dirty and brown. We went by bus most of the way to the Boan ca, a little harbour with funny variegated shaped boats, some were tugs, some river boats and all the houses are painted bright colours, even though they are mostly made of corrugated iron. We had cheese sandwich and coffee in a little place with pictures on the walls and went to the Plaza de Mayo, a large square with the Presidential Palace, enormous and pink and other important buildings. We watched children chasing pigeons and walked down a rather grimy street and had coffee outside. Nicholas bought the English newspaper. We wandered about along with thousands of people and went back to our hotel, visiting a funny round building close by the Spike, in it was a ? with a poor enormous Constrictor snake curled round himself unable to move. And an armadillo. The light in our room is very bad but I wrote a letter and Nicholas felt ill. We had good, very inexpensive supper – delicious soup with grated cheese and spaghetti and meat and wine and flan in a salubrious area with brothels and shady bars. We made an excursion on the subway – like an English one. We saw horrid MP sailors with direful weapons tramping about. Tomorrow we go on a hydro foil to Colonia and then on to Montevideo. We like Buenos Aires very much and walked miles today on pavements with horrible holes and corrunculations.
We both woke feeling dreadfully sleepy and it was a sunny windy day. We had breakfast in the station and walked to Cooks where Nicholas was very pleased by unexpected rate of exchange. We tramped miles looking for the Alscopo (hydrofoil) and bought tickets for 2.30. Harrods was very Harrodslike and we walked along Calle Floride, the most expensive street, at least five times in the course of the morning. There are gorgeous very expensive shops, lovely leather though the leather here is just as ? and half the price. We read the newspaper in a mosquito infested park – we were followed by clouds of them and we had extremely good steak in an interesting part of the city near the docks. Our hydrofoil ride across the River Plate was very luxurious – we skimmed across the water quite fast, fed with sweeties and coffee, past several largeish boats, one of them Indian and stepped into a modern greyhound the other end and sped off to Montevideo along flat straight roads with some pine trees and cows grazing in the brown grass. The houses were suburban looking though we passed very few towns. We found a fairly cheap hotel run by a nice Chilean, very fat, and have four beds We ate delicious vegetables and quite good steak over the road in a curious place ?ing taxi drivers and it also shows university films. A funny little waiter in an immense starched white coat served us and we drank delicious pale wine. It was freezing cold when we walked down the main streets looking in endless bag and shoe shops.
An exhausting day was spent in looking for bags and shoes. All the bags were dull leather and not nice shapes. In the leather factory there were gorgeous ostrich and alligator skinned bags and piles of suede. We made an excursion down to the docks. We were stopped going right down to the area by a befuddled sentry. We walked miles along a cement pier past endless fishers and a red eyed grey pony. We looked for the wreck of the Graf Spee and saw a boat in the distance, half submerged with two funnels sticking up. We spent a lot of the day tramping up and down the main street looking in shoe shops. We went miles down a seedy road toward the Government and looked for the 850 varieties of ?. We went back by bus and rested on our beds. Nicholas did the crossword and I slept before we set off for the Magnificent Men – with Robert Morley and Hancock and Terry Thomas. We had a delicious meal, a bowl of soup and fish and salad and flan and it only cost one dollar.
I washed my hair in cold water and Nicholas was slow in getting up. We were not sure whether it was a public holiday, it was sunny and warm. For lunch we had Milanese and have come to the conclusion we spend far too much on food, about three dollars a day. Soon we must economise, when we have left the meat countries. Our bus was a Trailways and had darkened windows, difficult to see out so we had our window open, regardless of the discomfort of the lady behind us. The country was rolling and we duplicated about an hour of the journey. We went through a few little villages and Fray Bentos. We walked round a very sleepy town and saw gauchos and shiny old cars. The bus went extremely fast, over unpaved roads and we saw herds of steers and Friesian cows and sheep and tiny lambs. There were extraordinary birds’ nests on the telegraph poles, some symmetrical, like igloos and some great bushes of twigs. We reached Paysandu just before dark and found a very clean hotel and had delicious cheese and ham and media lunes. We walked miles to the river which is quite wide and called River Uruguay. Paysandu is a prosperous looking town with some quite expensive looking shops and people sitting in restaurants drinking coffee and coke. We had supper – steak and about seven chips and flan which cost about $1.50. Soon we must start eating less as this is the only way in which we can economise. Tomorrow we start off at 8.30 to Salto and cross the river into Argentina again.
We get up early after a troubled night – Nicholas rushed off after he had gone to bed to investigate a loud collection of people which turned out to be watching a football game on telly. We had delicious breakfast, lovely jam and media lunes and café con leche and caught the bus to Salto, a shorter journey than we expected, through prairie land. We crossed the river Paraguay with little difficulty in a tiny boat loaded down with middle aged ladies and shopping bags. The town the other side, Concordia, was very dreary and we saw hordes of children in white coats. We had an exciting taxi ride to the northward bus and the rest of the day was spent on unpaved roads sitting at the back of the bus which was half empty. The country became flatter and more open, with some swampy land where we saw flamingo type birds sitting on fences. There were masses of horses, some scraggy and gauchos in fantastically baggy trousers and hats. We reached Los Libres as six and found it to be impossible to get any further on by bus so go off tomorrow on a horrible train. We are staying in a funny little hotel, a German lady talked about food and we are having two delicious meals tomorrow before we leave at twelve. This is a very countrified town with combine harvesters at the side of the street and horses padding along. The room is infested by horrible mosquitoes. Supper was quite good, meat and funny pancake. Nicholas drank nearly a whole litre bottle of wine and became quite drunk.
We had the curious sweet stuff for breakfast and delicious butter and coffee. It was a hot, sunny day and we changed money and gave an old man a green note. Los Libres is a countrified town, quite large, with an airport and horse and donkey carts with milk churns. Lunch defeated us and we left for the station where we waited for an hour in great heat and impatience waiting for our train which arrived quite empty and turned out to be passenger only. We had quite comfortable tiny seats and good views out of the windows. The country was flat and interesting with swampy land and white flamingos in the water and other interesting birds. We saw a little grey ostrich walking in long grass and hawks and an owl sitting on a fence post. We saw a cart with eight horses in a swamp and a few little Indian houses. We ate our picnic, bread and cheese, tangerines and bananas at odd intervals in the journey. It got dark at five thirty and the rest of the journey was excessively tedious. We played geography games and boxes, all not really time killing. There was a half Irish, half Norwegian on the train who says there are big red ants and crocodiles in Paraguay. There is a horrible beetle walking about near my window and the train is having an interminable stop waiting for a train to pass. I should think we will arrive in Posadas very late and all the hotels will have gone to sleep. We arrived at about eleven and walked a long way to find a hotel. We had a snake in our bedroom to guard against mosquitos and had a drink of coke before we went to bed.
I feel bad-tempered when we get up and the day starts off very badly as we arrive too late for the 10.30 boat across the river so have to wait till 1.30. All the immigration people are having lunch so perhaps we won’t be able to get across. We arrived in Encarnacion about two, finishing the journey in rowing boats as the pier had collapsed. The town was very sleepy and there were horse drawn carts trotting about and groups of moneychanger type people. The bus to Asuncion was due to leave at nine so we wandered around and changed a travellers cheque and sat for an hour in an enormous coffee place discussing our family trees. It was raining hard and we were told the bus had been delayed until the next morning. The nice boy let us spend the night in the bus station on an extra bed. We had delicious Milanese for our supper and retired to bed very early. Nicholas had little sleep owing to the strong coffee and things crept over my face. Encarnacion has lots of Japanese, very few shops and muddy streets and some quite nice little houses. There are no street lights and we got lost many times.
The nice boy got up at six and we realised the bus was not leaving so stayed in bed till eight. We got soap and a clean towel and used the loo in the garden full of hens, pigs and cats. The bus left at nine thirty and we had delicious coffee and biscuits. We dallied for ages in the town waiting for people to arrive and saw a procession of cars, perhaps going to church with wreaths and flowers so started out about ten. The road was mostly straight and quite muddy and there were deviations from the road in many places which held up progress. We passed banana trees and enormously long-horned, ? cows, horses with sheepskin saddles and little muddy villages with tiny windowless houses. For lunch we had delicious empanados and locally made orange juice. Afterwards the country became quite flat with hills in the distance and we went along quite fast. The bus filled up completely collecting people on the way, some of the army who looked about sixteen. We crossed a river on a tiny ferry, it was precarious and we waited for quite a long time. A nice gentleman who had been learning English for three months gave us coffee and took interest. The rest of the journey was over quite hard flat road and we went quite fast into Asuncion. The economist man has invited us to supper tomorrow night and found a lady on the bus who has a pension. She is a very fat jolly lady and has a most infectious laugh. We are sleeping in an immense attic room and she has a duck in a shopping bag and a monkey in a tree. We walked into the centre of Asuncion – a very small town with little of interest we think and had quite good steak and chips and bought Time. We arrived back at the lady’s house and found a selection of people, ? Arab boy, a ? Paraguayan who teaches English and a portly man who has a powerful singling voice. The piano was played and the fat lady and portly gentleman sang and we drank a curious orangey drink. The old lady came up to our bedroom smoking a giant cigar. Today is Richard’s birthday we think.
We were woken up twice by hammering on the door and it appeared that the nice man had arrived at 8.30 and was again on the way to see us so I hastened out of bed and we found him drinking coffee with the fat lady who was not so jolly today. He took us in his car around the city, we saw the President’s White house, surrounded by trees and helmeted policemen. We saw the American Embassy enclosed in a garden and rich looking vulgar houses. It appeared that his brother had been designated to drive round the town but as he failed to appear we sat in the car and the nice man took us down to the river where we saw his textiles being unloaded and quite a large river boat being pulled by a tug. His brother was little use and drove us round the suburbs. We arrived back at our house and I did the washing. The monkey was swinging about and nearly landed in the sink. We went into the town to find everything closed and it was like Sunday and cold and windy. Nicholas changed money in the hotel and we had delicious coffee and orange and rested in our enormous room. Asuncion is a pleasant town, quite tiny with a nice square in the idle. We saw an Indian outside the Tourist Hotel with a long pigtail and obviously dressed up for the tourists. Later on a brother appeared and took us for another aimless drive to Trinidad which is along an appalling road by the river. We drove through nice botanical gardens. The other brother took us out to supper with his wife. First we went to their house, very large and saw their five children. We ate fairly disgusting parillada, a horrible selection of brains, kidneys, udders and black sausages. For pudding we had quite good flan with cream on top. We heard Paraguayan music on a harp and guitars. Then we were driven home and Nicholas after much dispute went down to the fat lady. In the middle of the night he heard a multitude of cocks crowing and thought it was a revolution.
We started off in a microbus to Caapucu in bright sun after the nice fat lady gave us some coffee out of an enormous thermos. We had quite a nice journey, the microbus stopped and started continually picking new people. Toward Caapucu the country got wooded and we looked out for the Eggar’s ranch. When we reached Caapucu we found an old man who took us off to another old man and we found out that the Eggars live at the place with a similar name the other side of Asuncion. We are very disappointed but decide not to retrace our tracks. We waited in hot sun for a microbus, there were lots of ladies selling cheese, bread and oranges. The microbus became progressively more crowded and I sat right in the front for the first part of the journey and had a wonderful view of donkeys and cattle plodding about. Then I moved back and sat next to a stinking lady and dirty children – Nicholas sat with his knees squashed. Late in the afternoon the bus emptied and it got dark quickly. The road was paved the whole way and we sped along as all the junk off the top had been taken away. We stopped for delicious supper, Milanese and potatoes and coffee. We reached Stroessner in freezing cold at about 7.30 and saw the bridge but decided not to cross. We were put off at a very primitive hotel, no light or windows and we are about to sleep in a barn with funny home made rooms and the cold air is whistling in. Tomorrow morning we hope to get up early and set off to the Iguazu Falls which have twice the amount of water Niagara has.
We woke up deliciously warm in our sleeping bags and washed in freezing water and had coffee before setting off for the bridge where we had remarkably little to do with Paraguayan customs. We walked over the bridge and the Brazilians were very interested. We caught a bus to the Iguazu Town where we caught a five dollar taxi to the falls which were impressive and there were about seven in different levels, some quite small and some enormous. We saw beautiful, various coloured butterflies, one giant blue and brown. The journey to and from the town was on bumpy ground, through sub tropical stunted forest. We arrived back and had disgusting empanadas and doughnut before catching our bus. The man I am following is on the bus and an ex-peace corps boy travelling round South America, on the same route as us. The bus is large and has a partition separating the driver. There are two drivers. We had an extraordinary meal, two sorts of meat, one on an enormously long skewer. It cost $2.50 and made Nicholas very unhappy. We went through quite ordinary country – jungly with houses with thatched roofs and banana trees. I saw a man sitting by the side of the road painting his shoes red. The road was bad and made of red mud. All the soil round here is very red. We saw lots of cats and people working on the roads. We were each given a pillow and with sleeping bag the night was quite comfortable.
We had quite a restless night, constantly turning over and woke up when light came. The road was still bumpy and the country quite dull with primitive little houses. We had good coffee and went on to Couritaba which is quite large and grey looking with a few skyscrapers. The road was paved from then off and the country became wooded and hilly with some little rivers under high bridges. It became drizzly and we became bored of the bus and read Time. The bus stopped in a modern, large coffee place which was convenient as I was pining to pee. The rest of the journey was spent in dictating letters and overtaking trucks, some laden with pigs going off to an enormous pig market we saw outside Sao Paulo. The outskirts of the city took a long time to get through because the road was too narrow and we passed modern, attractive houses in the suburbs. We were amazed by the bus station which is gigantic and teeming with people. It has shops and restaurants and endless television sets. We found a hotel in gloomy back streets, but its quite clean with hot water. I had a shower and Nicholas went off for a walk with Bob. We wandered about later on, becoming hopelessly lost and had a cheap meal of milanese and spaghetti.
Bob woke us up and it was a beautiful sunny day and Sao Paulo looks much more attractive. We had Chelsea buns and coffee and posted letters in a seedy post office in the station and changed money in the First National City Bank before returning to our hotel to find Bob disappeared. Later we learned he had been lost. We set off on a major excursion and went to Sterns which is in the expensive shopping district and bought a beautiful green tourmaline with a plain gold setting. We watched rings being made and saw very pale aquamarines and a lot of topaz stones. We set off to explore the city and had funny little empanadas and walked to a square behind the Opera House where we saw a giant family of assorted cats sitting on the statue and strolling about. A lady arrived with a bag full of fish and a great crowd gathered on the viaduct above to watch them being fed. We made our way to the top of the tallest building in the city and saw miles of skyscrapers. We went back to our hotel and made Bob unpack his enormous suitcase full of presents before going off for a very cheap, good supper of Milanese and noodles. I found a gigantic, horrifying roach in Donald Duck.
The day was spent in filling in time until we caught our bus at 11.50 pm. We had an abortive time finding an art museum which was closed and had an exhausting journey to the park where we had a very rich chocolate sundae and felt very lazy and visited a museum full of aeroplanes and folk lore things. I felt dopey and had my usual museum feeling in the brain. We lay on the grass and did the crossword and had delicious yoghurt all frothed up and mixed with something delicious. We visited the planetarium and I went to sleep in the middle of a long and obviously interesting discourse on the stars, but it was in Portuguese so of course couldn’t understand. We sped back to skyscraper land and walked about disinclined to go to a bad movie so we went to our usual place and had our usual milanese and lasagne. We went to the bus station and whiled away our three hours wait by watching fat men wrestling on the television, one Paraguayan with long hair and horrid leopard spotted shorts. We drank an enormous bottle of beer and collected our junk and found Bob and our very luxurious bus which has a loo and thermos flasks so we hope for free coffee. We are constantly watching my ring.
We arrived at the bus station, miles from the centre and eventually got on a bus to the centre where we parted from Bob who went to his expensive hotel followed by the little man who he picked up at the bus station. We managed to find a hotel for £3 and bathroom though the water is temperamental and a clean room with clean towels. We went down to the sea and started off on a very long walk to reach the Christ on top of the hill but gave up after walking miles. We saw appalling slums and middle class houses and got on a bus which took us to the museum of modern art where we saw extraordinary shapes which made horrid noises and flashed lights. We walked into the centre and found everything dead and had a fantastic bargain – bought ten books for a dollar. We wandered about having beer and potato crisps in a nice place. The walk home seemed endless and we had a drab little cheese sandwich for supper.
This morning we had bitter disappointment. We arrived at the Consul to find it was Whit Monday and therefore closed – we were most unhappy and went to the Canadian Consul who told us of a dentist. He filled two holes and did it free and we were very pleased though my teeth have ached all day. We wandered about the centre not enjoying it very much and had a bottle of beer before setting off for the bus station to buy tickets to Brasilia. We walked about, visited a monastery, sat in a cat infested park and walked home and had delicious supper, for pudding a rice pudding and fruit salad.
We were woken by squeaky wheelbarrows trundling past and had our buttered roll and coffee and collected a fairly disappointing collection of letters – nothing from Aunt Diana, Albert or Richard. Quite an amusing letter from Jill and a sick letter from Heather. We met Bob and the sky was cloudy. We visited the Peace Corps office and set off for Copacabana in bright sun. We lay on the beach in the cold and I spent a brief time in the water. We had an expensive lunch, a disgusting sausage and set off for Christ on the Hill which was obscured by fog so we set off for Sugar Loaf and had a super time going up in cable cars, first settling on one mountain and then onto Sugar Loaf where we had a fantastic view of Rio and aeroplanes coming in to land. We arrived home, a bit exhausted and set of for supper, delicious fruit salad.
We had no letters and sat on the beach and it was lovely and sunny. Bob gave us 5 books, all science fiction so we will have to learn to like them. We caught the bus at 1.30 and are in the front seats but one so have a good view. We went over endless twisty hills and climbed hills at great speed. It was very sunny and we stopped very two hours and the fat ugly middle class women spent hours in the lavatory each time in front of the mirror. We had very salty spaghetti bolognese with delicious bread and butter. We slept quite well.
We woke to find quite dull scenery, stunted trees and rolling hills with no animals or houses. We had disgusting cheesey buns and coffee with an alien taste which Nicholas liked. The bus sped along and I read a science book which seems very strange. Nicholas read Time and then I went to sleep until we reached Brasilia which we saw miles away in the distance surrounded by half made flyovers. We saw enormous blocks of apartments, some with windowless backs and we reached the bus station which has three floors and were directed to the semi built National Theatre where we were given endless leaflets, mostly in Portuguese. We were sniggered at by horrid boys when we were having a funny meat pie at the bus station and went off over red soil which is destined to be a pavement, to the hotel we were told would be cheap but it turns out to be hideously expensive, nine dollars a night. We met a nice man, an engineer, who is calling up his friends trying to find a cheap place. We think we might hitchhike to Belem but it might be rather complicated and we might be stranded by night, being eaten by red ants, scorpions and snakes or knifed. The man called up his English friend, Mr Peter and he arranged for us to go and stay with him. He arrived and is very nice, though pompous and took us to the University where we met the head of the English Department who is affiliated to the British Council. We went to his house, passing a fairly sticky evening. They have an adopted boy called Teddy who is very sweet and a nice niece. The wife is Brazilian and very voluble. Later we went out for disgusting pizza.
We got up hours later than anyone else and had funny tea and marmalade for breakfast. We set off for the centre and bought bus tickets to Belem and bought many postcards and wandered about, before returning for lunch. Afterwards we set off for a fantastically hot and exhausting walk to the Congress and Senate and it was most impressive and white and spacious and the floor was very highly polished and there were pillars made of white marble like material. The Congress and Senate are shaped like cup and saucer and are very white. We saw a funny clothes peg house for pigeons and they are all flying about. We trudged wearily back over the red soil, Nicholas’s feet were hurting and collapsed in the bus station. We arrived back and had delicious corned beef. Tomorrow we leave for Belem, very early, at 6.00 am and it will take us three nights and four days. I write many postcards and Nicholas talked to the lady until Peter arrived home and an old gentlemen arrived, a Russian and he took us off to his house to have passion fruit and a native drink made from sugar cane. We saw his carpentry room where he is making a boat and he gave us some wooden relics. We saw a pineapple growing and he gave us a bag of passion fruit and put on his tape recorder. We slept in the sitting room and got to bed very late in view of the early start.
An alarm played a tune for five minutes and we had breakfast of ? and funny orange jam thinking we would miss the bus but we arrived to find it empty and our seats are right at the front. We stopped at Annapolis and then started going north over a quite good but dusty red road. We stopped every two hours or so and there was blazing heat. The villages grew more primitive and in the afternoon we had a puncture and spent a lot of time having it mended. The jungle has not appeared yet and it is still hard baked scrub land with some floppy eared cattle and immense horned cattle. We crossed the river on an extremely flimsy bridge and saw a giant team of oxen. We stopped for the night at about eight thirty having been held up by punctures. Our hotel was quite cheap but very primitive with fantastically disgusting lavatories. We had an enormous supper, plate after plate appeared of green beans, brown beans, rice, strange potatoes, carrots, noodles, meat and funny cucumber like stuff. We were sad not to be able to finish it all and afterwards were compelled to go for a walk to get rid of fullness. We saw several trucks parked for the night with Belem written all over them and felt cheated. We went to bed in our little room with no windows. Nicholas sleeping in filthy sheets.
We set off at 5.30 after free coffee and a panic to find DD who was safely packed. We slept till eight and stopped in a tiny village and had coffee and Nicholas ate a funny macaroon. The day was spent in intense heat, stopping every two hours. We ate oranges and one passion fruit. The bus ran over a little deer which was cooked and eaten. It got more humid and jungly towards the evening. We watched two men playing poker in the bus and it got very full up at intervals. We stopped for the night in wilderness and went for a jungle walk and heard jungle noises. During the day we saw a tame sloth, dripping in water, hanging onto a truck. It was very ugly with long claws. We went to sleep and woke up still dressed at 3.45.
We set off at 4 am in darkness without coffee and slept on and off till we stopped for coffee in drizzle. It rained on and off throughout the day, sometimes very tropically and the country remained disappointingly the same, intermittently semi jungle. We had an enormous lunch by the river and saw a huge dead fish hanging up and ate fresh fish and sat in rocking chairs afterwards. We went through great heat and stopped once or twice before we stopped for the night at five. It was quite a civilised hotel and bought oranges in the market and went for a walk. We had to turn back as I had a thing about being stared at. It is a very long muddy street with pigs and donkeys. We saw a curious anteater animal with a stripy tail. We met a rich Syrian who started off being very nice and friendly and offering to meet us in Belem etc. He gave us supper but I was the only one who ate it. It was another feast, this time with tomatoes. He took us off to his friend’s house, right down by the river and we drank delicious milk and coffee and watched them all playing canasta, a fairly nasty old man with a 24 year old wife. We didn’t like the Syrian particularly but he reluctantly paid for our supper.
The light didn’t work and as a result we left the tooth brush behind. My stomach was in a terrible way all day – it rained sometimes torrentially and the country was more jungly and we got closer to Belem. There were quite steep hills and we crawled up past trucks full of frilly cattle. We didn’t have any lunch and throughout the day ate buns and foul soggy biscuits. The road became paved and we sped along, feeling seasick up and down tiny hills. We realised we wouldn’t reach Belem by six and arrived in an electric storm and sheeting rain. We found the bus station was miles away and finally found a taxi which took us to the Bare Hotel which was disgusting even by our standards so we cleared out and went to a nicer, more expensive one, the shower water didn’t work and we felt very dirty and droopy and unhappy and collapsed wearily and drearily into bed.
I jumped out of bed and washed my hair and did the washing and felt very efficient and we had a delicious breakfast of coffee in two pots and papaya and lovely butter. We went off to the Consul and collected a letter from my mother and the Consul was nice but quite unhelpful about boats and helpful about the dentist who we saw and he was a nice little man and put temporary stoppings in my teeth. We met a man called Joseph who has invited us to stay in his basement. He took us around in his car and we had a good view of the city from the highest building. The river surrounds the city and it looks almost like an island. The Amazon looks grey and dirty, there were a few little boats but not like the interesting boats we saw at Iquitos. We saw miles of jungle stretching into the distance. We walked perilously over the planks in the building Joseph whatsisname is building. We drove off to see an American bachelor who turned out to be married to a very dark servile looking lady in the kitchen. The man Richard, is extraordinary and has endless records and a library consisting entirely of dictionaries. We set off to the building again and picked up the wife on the way who can’t speak English at all. We hung about the building for ages while the American talked on about books and was itching to go home. We escaped and arrived home, feeling very hungry. We hope to leave on a tiny boat early next week. Today we bought a fan. It is very humid and it is quite exhausting heat. Tomorrow we move into the city to stay with Joe. We foresee it will be a most exhausting week.
An exhausting, hideously hot day was spent. First we got thoroughly lost on the way to the warehouse and walked for an hour in blazing heat and by accident arrived at the right place. We were driven about in the car and took our luggage to the meat market which smells so abominable. We decided to live in the warehouse. We weren’t offered lunch so ate a dried cheese sandwich and sat outside the meat market – then it was conversation time and we plodded about Place de Republica before going back to collect our junk, our airline bag was nearly left on the bus by me and we arrived and moved in and are very pleased with our new house. Joe arrived, made at pass at me and vanished in the evening. We walked into the centre and had disappointing omelette and tender meat. A funny French boy came and stared at us. We had coffee in the Central Restaurant and went home. I typed a long letter. Nicholas heard rats so we moved downstairs onto the desks.
We woke up with great speed and Joe took us off to the market with his wife who bought shrimps and papayas and we ate tapioca and returned to our house where we found our servant boy had rolled our bed up and was being very useful. We had bad coffee and cheese roll and visited the Consul, no letters and bought a tiny birthday card and were exhausted and returned home for a long siesta, woken by Joe with a journalist who is trying to find a boat. We had delicious funny meat sandwich and coffee and found no letters in the Consul but two nice boys, one English and one Brazilian who told us to see him in the morning. We plodded miles to Joe’s house and had showers, catastrophic as I broke the shaving mirror and the maids played a joke and turned the water off while Nicholas was covered in soap. We arrived home to find Joe who was one of his nicer selves and went off to the Queen’s birthday which was quite frightening before we went in as lots of gentlemen wearing smart white clothes trooped past and ladies in elbow length gloves but when we arrived we discovered it to be a motley collection of people, all the ladies sitting round the walls. We talked to the Booth Line men who turned out to be not nice, a Brazilian religious gentleman and a nice fair boy working for Burroughs and Welcome in the jungles. The food was delicious and we ate chicken legs. We were quite hurt at not being asked to supper and were eating a really delicious flan when the Syrian arrived with his friend. He was much nicer than when we last saw him and we had ice cream and he offered to pay for our hotel as he was so appalled by our bed.
As usual we were woken with a fantastic shock and we slept until it was time to go to Booths where we found three letters, Jill, Mamma and Guy. A blank from Marko? And the journalist and had a fairly nasty afternoon seeing round a slaughterhouse, poor cows were being killed with a horrible long spear and then they were skinned and cut up. Joe annoyed us beyond endurance and we became monosyllabic and rude on the way home. We arranged to go to a movie with him and wandered around the docks and had cheese sandwiches and met Joe and family and finally arrived at “A Special Favour”, quite enjoyable but trash; however, a relief from Cleopatra. We wandered around looking for the nice Syrian but couldn’t find him so landed up eating nasty spaghetti and watching a table full of Americans, one with a nice moustache. We walked down to the river and watched a yellow bat wheeling about and an enormous water bug. We had a very hot night and Nicholas had insects walking all over him.
We were dreadfully tired and the Syrian man came along when I was in the middle of dressing. We walked in great heat to Joe’s house and waited for the Portuguese lady and set off for an exhausting trek to the Bosque, walking miles along a large road. It was rather disappointing with no real jungle and it was very vulgar with loud blaring music and little boats on the pond and photograph men wandering about. The Portuguese lady walked vaguely around and we followed, really wanting to find remoter areas. We saw curious ugly animals, one with a stunted elephants trunk. There were brilliantly coloured parrots sitting on perches but no cave of bats. We toiled back in burning heat to find Joe’s wife looking sulky as usual and had showers, the horrid child continually trying to come into the bathroom. Lunch was quite good meat. Joe eats very badly and we were more than acutely irritated. The afternoon was spent in toiling along the piers but no success. I washed clothes surrounded by the nice spectacled lady and her fifteen children. We ate in the Florida, quite bad meal called Russian filet, which was hamburger meat and went inside the Municipal Theatre which was brilliantly lit by chandeliers. We were hounded by popping fireworks all the way home.
Booby Winkler told us to visit the Nina which was bound non-stop for New York. We were very excited when the Captain, a fair young Dutchman agreed to take us for £2 a day each and we dashed about all morning getting letters from the Consul and telling Joe who looked soppy and practically offered to come with us. We meet the Syrian and he gave us lunch and was in a great hurry. We saw his tins of butter all piled up and has said my ring is worth only £3 but we didn’t believe him. Bob was in the Booth line and we put him on to the Barbados boat with the German Captain – we both feel the stirrings of jealousy as are regretful that we do not stop at any of the islands. We bought a bathing dress, very plain and blue and it cost £9 which horrified us especially when the Captain said we would be out of sight on the bridge. We returned to the warehouse and the lady with the fifteen children took great interest and giggled hysterically. Joe left for his Masons meeting and we plodded off to Bob’s hotel, on the way meeting the Captain and the mate and had to buy them whisky which is very expensive in Belem and costs £8 a bottle. We had showers in Bob’s hotel and had cheese and egg sandwiches, Bob had flan and we desperately wanted him to buy us a lovely meal. We walked to our warehouse which we found as usual in great heat and saw an enormous roach scuttling about. Nevertheless, we slept by the window upstairs and Nicholas complained of the cold.
We were relieved to leave Joe and he stepped onto the boat and had a chat with the Captain. It was an exhausting morning buying odds and ends, Nicholas’s sandals, his hat which is smaller than his last one, an improvised basin plug. The day was spent hanging around waiting for the boat to leave, cargo was still being loaded at eleven. Our cabin is air conditioned and it is impossible to turn it off, we have a basin and one bed, a sofa, a desk and we are very pleased with it. We read books intermittently and wandered about, leaving the last of our money to two little boys; they shook hands which was rather touching. Supper was immense and our diet will be rice, potatoes, beef and oranges, all bought in New York because it is cheaper which is ridiculous. The cook is very friendly and we think he might magnify our beer bill. The excitement of the evening was our letters. – we dropped by Booths very late and collected one each from our mothers and one from Aunt D. We wandered about tripping over immense roaches and had coffee in the Florida, the Captain arrived and talked a little before eating a meal at great speed, then the Syrian and his mates appeared and disappeared after eating immense meals – the two boys sitting behind us came up and we were thinking they were coming on the Nina, however the Captain turned them off and uncovered a plot by the wicked agent. We sailed after midnight and watched the rubber for chewing gum being loaded and Booby Winkler turned up but he is not the wicked agent.
Nicholas ate a fried egg for breakfast and returned to our cabin looking green. I got up and felt sick also, we felt fragile all day and were unable to eat the enormous helpings of meat and rice and sour potatoes the cook gave us. We lay in our cabin feeling fragile and could hardly read.
The Captain came past our cabin and enquired after our health. The Mate arrived later on and said hard- heartedly that we would never get better if we lay down all day so we tried to sit outside but felt ill so returned to our cabin. We ate soup for lunch. The weather was disappointing and partly rainy and cloudy.
My mother’s birthday. The sea was fantastically calm and we felt much better. Nicholas ate whole meals and our boxes of beer and lemon lime arrived. The Captain gave us permission to go wherever we liked on the boat except the wheelhouse. We went up on the bridge and saw the fishing line which so far hasn’t caught anything. The Captain who is a fantastically blond teddy bear showed us some stars – we saw the Southern Cross, the Great Bear. We saw flying fish skimming over the water and it was very calm. We like the Captain better than the mate who has hardly talked but is quite good looking in a bald way. The Captain wears white shorts and vest all day. The crew seem to do very little, the head crew is the enormous one with huge breasts. There is a funny little Colombian one who always wears a hat because the rest of the crew shaved his head bald.
A bad day for seasickness for me and kept almost entirely to my bed reading a book about California and Peru. Nicholas ate most of his meals. I clogged our basin up with lettuce leaves. The Mate gave us Life and Time and a very bad National Geographical. The boat tossed quite a lot. We went to bed very early. Nicholas sleeping in the proper bunk as he is too long for the seat so I have to sleep in the smelly sleeping bag which gets smellier each day.
We passed Tobago this morning. Nicholas was very healthy and ate scrambled eggs – I lay in bed till lunch which consisted of soup. We lay in the sun on the bridge and for the first time wear my swimming suit. The sun was quite hot and the Mate listened to his wireless. Soup for supper and as usual we saw the Captain afterwards. It started to rain so we went downstairs. I read a bearable science fiction book. The fishing hook has come unstuck so there is no hope of a change of diet.
Another gusty day-the boat is rocking more and we feel seedy. It is sunny and we take off a pocket from my jeans. The Mate sat with his wireless the other side of the bridge. For supper we have a delicious cheese and tomato sandwich. A blackbird arrives and is caught by some of the crew and is put in a cupboard for the night as it cannot fly any further. The Captain gives us beer and we are in bed by nine.
The longest day of the year, I get up at lunchtime and sew patches on after lunch. The crew are painting and Nicholas feels ill and has aspirin. The bird flies away quite late in the morning . We pass an island called Mona and a much larger ship than ours. We go on the bridge in the evening and I sew on the jeans patches. It takes three hours. We watch five black backed gulls flying with the boat a long way behind to swoop down on fish.
As usual I lie in bed till lunch and Nicholas goes onto the bridge. A poor flying fish flies onto the front of the boat and perishes. The cook is becoming very unpopular especially with the second engineer as his food is becoming increasingly disgusting and he does not like giving us bread as he hates baking it. The Captain is going to get rid of him, we think. They have lots of jam and peanut butter and things and cheese is good but there are no tomatoes to go with it. The soup he cooks is good but always very hot. I read P G Wodehouse and Nicholas a book about the Power of America. The foreman in ill and thinks he has appendicitis and spends most of the day on the wooden bench outside the lavatories. It is a beautiful day and extremely calm. The crew are painting the bridge and the Mate washed the windows.
I got up at lunch time and Nicholas spent the morning upstairs in his hat. It gets hotter and hotter and the sea is perfectly calm. The meat for lunch was so tough it was practically impossible to chew it. Nicholas fried his feet in the sun and the mate lent us two books one about JC which I doubt if we will read. We gave him beer and drank lemon lime and retired to bed in the middle of the afternoon. The evening was stormy and there were immense grey clouds. We sat in the wheelhouse.
The day was spent mostly in resting. It was cloudy and a boring day. Nicholas is reading P G Wodehouse and I am forced to read about JC. I felt sick in the afternoon and we slept in bed till supper. We saw a satellite in the evening travelling at high speed and Nicholas saw a falling star or another satellite. I washed the big green sweater.
I feel grumpy and get up for lunch which as ever consists of shrivelled up meat and canned string beans. It is calm and sunny. The boat goes slow and everything is washed. The crew wash their jeans and we see giant porpoises slowly floating along with fins sticking up, some submerged, also flying fish. I read a Lowell Thomas book about German submarines and Nicholas reads Three Comrades. He suffers from the glare. Tomorrow we reach Savannah. It got dark late and we watched flying fish darting across the water and ? porpoises jumping out of the water. They dived under the boat and swam along the other side, overtaking us. The Captain saw a small shark and we looked for fins sticking out of the water. The sea was calmer than ever. I wrote to my mother, sending a papaya seed.
We docked at eight next to a large Norwegian boat and waited for the fat immigration men to come aboard. We hated America as we watched the horrible well fed men on the pier and the immigration man was as foul as he looked with an enormous cigar in fact he became extremely insolent about the draft and green cards. We waited for ages before the yellow quarantine flag came down and we went off into the town which was completely dead and hot. We saw old ladies in hats coming out of church and had delicious toast in the drug store. We walked about in great heat – it was 89 degrees. Savannah has a succession of nice green squares and a park – I walked barefoot and the roads were burning hot. We walked through the negro district and back along the main shopping street which has ghastly insipid Southern clothes. We had another drink and walked down by the river and saw no boats except the Norwegian one unloading tea from Indonesia. The cook was in a bad mood and gave us soup and bread and cheese. A stupid old guard sits on the boat all day reading comics. We searched the town for beer but landed up with cornflakes and coke. Nicholas has a brilliant idea about cooling beer. Tomorrow he has to have his hair cut. We leave tomorrow and the plywood will be unloaded. We have discovered we will reach New York at the fourth of July weekend which is very annoying.
I ate two boiled eggs for breakfast and the unloading had started when we set off for the centre which had cheered up since Sunday evening. We had coffee and donut and delicious chocolate laxative and filled in the morning by buying Nicholas knickers and socks and shaving brush and soap and he had his hair cut and we changed out last travellers cheque and we looked in dress shops and saw ghastly Southern type dresses. While Nicholas was sitting in the square and I was in a shop I was investigated by a store detective who thought I was a Missing Person. We had lunch which was good value – shrimps, coke and pudding. We bought a drink made by Hill Billies from the place we parked the Anglia on our last visit and went back to the ship – the unloading was almost finished although the great fat negroes were mostly sitting doing very little and yelling. Some of the plywood looks battered. It is nearly 89 degrees, as hot as yesterday but it does not feel it. The cook has got some chickens so we are hoping for a delicious supper. We sailed at half past four, the stupid old agent and his half witted companion were on the pier. We had the same pilot who brought us in and we passed the boat which was built for the filming of “Mutiny on the Bounty” – we reached the open sea in two hours. We discovered the foreman has VD and has been left in Savannah. The guard sitting on the boat the whole time we were in Savannah was specially to watch the cook who was not allowed off as he had violated immigration laws.by entering the US with no visa.
We slept most of the day, getting up for lunch which was fried chicken and peas. We lay in the sun and drank Mountain Dew which was good. I slept till supper and went to bed soon afterwards. A bottle of beer broke while it was hanging from the air conditioner.
We arrived at lunch an hour late as the clocks went forward. We are feeling very bored and Nicholas is reading the book about submarines. Am reading the book by Henry Fielding. N is very unhappy, he has just washed his hair and has lost a lot. He did the crossword and I washed clothes. We ate a lot of bread and marmalade and sat on the bridge till dark. We saw porpoises and spouting porpoises a mile off in the distance.
Nicholas got up first and reported seeing huge boats and land, however after our delicious lunch of chicken we could not see land but were waiting for the pilot boat to appear. The pilot was another uninteresting looking Yank. We took ages coming into the harbour and docked right next to Wall Street. The customs man was inoffensive. N Y is having a heat wave and quite hot. R & M are paying me $115 a week and I start tomorrow. Everyone was out and we found Albert in the bar, conveniently he is leaving for the Caribbean and we hope to stay in his apartment. Nina still lives there but works at night. We had hamburger in the Annexe.
We both slept excessively badly due to heat, headache and interruption. Worked for RBS and found the day exhausting - bought a blue dress which may be exchanged. Nicholas found a job, had lunch with Amy. Collected one letter. Ham and lettuce for supper and coffee ice cream.
Nina vanished sporadically and I made breakfast, scrambled eggs and bacon – a morning spent in the laundromat and surprising Hope and her handsome young Englishman in bed. I ironed shirts, we expired in Albert’s apartment and went to Central Park, bought cherries and read books and had apple pie and coke and found Albert’s party which was, as expected. We went by cab to Amy’s house. Nicholas slept on the floor. We went to bed very late.
The alarm went at half past sever. Amy bounced around making breakfast. We set off, buying the N Y Times. Three trains got us to Rockaway which was comparatively uncrowded and we had a nice, very hot day and played games in the water – we plodded home in sunstroke state and had delicious 7 Up in Amy’s apartment and admired our fantastic tan. We saw “Patch of Blue” and a funny film about Dot and ? narrated by Robert Morley. The heat this evening is terrific and we had a bacon sandwich and finished the coffee ice cream. Tomorrow we don’t go to work – it will be a penniless very hot day.
After an uninterrupted night we got up at two and had bacon and lettuce sandwich and iced coffee. I cleared up the apartment which was in a general mess and listened to Peter Sellers. We went outside to an overcast day and there was a nice breeze when we were down by the river reading our books. We saw Circle Line boats and tugs and it was quite crowded down there. We came home and made iced coffee mixed with bourbon.
Having slept exceptionally badly, we went off to work – Nicholas to his new job – I worked for Mr Petitt and spent the day telephoning. Now I am getting fairly bored of R &M. Bought a red and blue dress from Wanamaker. I feel tired in the eyes and make macaroni supper – Nicholas drinks lots of bourbon. Nicholas sleeps in the kitchen and me in the bedroom.
Delicious prune yoghurt. I work for Rubenoff. Chinese supper with Albert.
A hot day, I work for Cowan who is excessively fussy. Nicholas gets up with a headache. Someone thinks my ring is an emerald. Albert leaves
Work late for Anthony Pantalonii? And Nicholas goes to Amy’s party. I go later.
Work for RBS and Nicholas arrives at ? – I go to the hairdresser and Nicholas had a headache and lay down. We had ham and salad for supper, we called up Ricky and went through Stuyveson Town.
We set off for the beach but it was cloudy so we went to Central Park where Nicholas read the paper and I slept. Watched horses. The evening with Stephanie was a dull and quite dreary affair – it is very hot.
I have a domestic evening and N goes to the police station. I sew on patches. We listen to Peter Sellers.
Work by the telephones. Nicholas has a row with Harriet Love [owner of the flat on the lower east side that we stayed in when we first came to NYC] who calls the police
Extremely hot, I saw the Nina
Work late for JFP – very nice work
My birthday. I have lovely cards. Drink in bungla ? pub
We buy radio clock and camera and sit in the West Side Park – Dr Zhivago.
Brighton Beach, we both burn.
We both didn’t do much work. Letter from Aunt D and have [DIARY STOPS THERE]
The boat rolled a little and it was cold and grey. We sat in deck chairs and read in our cabin. The boat is larger than the Dutch one, much higher and the bridge is elevated off the boat deck. It is carrying soya been oil and is nearly empty. On the way back it will carry Starbirt? Tuna and chicken food. The Captain is young and speaks English well and smells. We eat in the dining room which is next to our cabin and are waited on by a steward with a stupid friendly face. The food is good and greasy.
The day goes past quickly, reading our books and the old magazines next door. The beer comes out after lunch and it is calm. The Captain shows us his shells from Pago Pago, cowrie necklaces and tells us it rains the whole time. I eat too many chocolates and feel foul. A fish is caught off the line and we see it all cleaned out and ready to eat.
We read upstairs. Nicholas ate a greasy egg for breakfast. We ate the fish caught the day before for lunch. Quite a hot afternoon. Cake for supper. A menacing cloud ahead and behind. We played racing demon and stood on the bridge.
Quite cloudy, warm days with the usual immense, interminable meals. We play racing demon after supper and one evening drank gin with the Captain on the bridge till midnight. The old gentleman who sits next to me is always trying to make me eat and drink. He found a dog in Cartegana? Which ran away in Havana. The meals get longer each day.
Each day extremely hot, Nicholas sits on the deck. I sleep a lot. We drink gin with the Captain in the evenings on the bridge. Sept 24th is rainy and windy and I feel sick.
Nicholas has a headache all day
Spend most of the time sleeping in a drugged stupor. Nicholas sits on the deck getting red and brown reading. We feel stuffed up with food and it is excessively hot. It becomes very difficult to communicate with the Captain is ?fluovich we begin to find tedious.
We arrive in Pago Pago at five. An island was sighted in the distance and we passed it and saw Samoa, covered in green, dense bushes. Pago Pago is built round a large bay and there are steep hills rising immediately behind. It seems as if they come out of the water. The pilot who brought the boat in was old and amateurish and aggravated the Captain who was smart in a striking white shirt. There was great confusion when we arrived, immigration and customs people and the agent who said he wanted an accountant and we became tremendously excited over what turned out to be nothing. We went ashore, it was dark and we saw Samoan men wearing long skirts and fat middle aged ladies in funny clothes. We drank in The Seaside with a fuzzy haired Tongan boy and a crazy Samoan.
The boat was moved to the other side of the bay. We arrived at the PO and collected letters and saw the man about the accounting job, a nasty little person who offered me £1.00 per hour and wanted N for three months. It was stiflingly hot and N had a headache so the afternoon was spent in sleep. We rode home in a blue and yellow bus and slept till 5. Having failed in finding anywhere to eat, we had a hamburger in the enormously expensive hotel. We spent the evening in Seaside with the crew and saw a bad floor show – a man staying with? The Captain remained on the boat and when we went back we saw a bra hanging in the window. Pago Pago is very small and we are in a permanent quandary as to when to go – it is very expensive and there is nowhere to stay. We are told Western Samoa is more interesting and plan to go there.
We spent hours in the PO waiting for non-existent mail. We walk in rain to the hotel and have good coffee. There is an enormous downpour and rain sweeps into the hotel and everything blew off the walls etc and the Yanks look mildly startled. We talk to a funny old Canadian and watch the teletype machine. We walk back to the boat in pouring rain and everyone stares. It stops by the time we get back to the ship and we see the Captain and his girl-friend. We start out to cross the island – Sarah wanting to go by bus and N wanting to save the 70 cents. Eventually get a lift from boy called Lafayette Young and he tells us he can find a floor for us to sleep on for Monday night. We visit cable car and then walk along coast to some beach and collect shells, then on miles to some rocks and watch crabs and lizard like creatures with crowd of children pointing to us. Then a lift with USAF boys back to boat. Then out to find Samoan restaurant but caught by Evening Prayers curfew for ¼ hour at 6.45 so had to stand in open house until bells rang at order of policemen. Then to hotel for large hamburger and back to boat where steward brought in snacks and beer, visited at length by Kate and the Captain who giggled foolishly on our bed.
The steward knocked on the door and conveyed that the ship would leave in 20 mins so we left quickly, heavily laden, with the grotesque Z? was trying to seduce a dog on board. We plodded off to the hotel and had coffee in the upstairs dining room before meeting Lafayette Young and visiting the television class and laboratories – we sat in his house and had an exhausting time with Kate eating rice and mixed up vegetables and things – we went by taxi to her, ? and N found a speckledy shell on the beach – we were loaded down with clothes. Wearily went back to the Young household to find screaming cat. After a brief interview with the wife we set off on an interesting excursion to Leone by bus, a little town ten miles away. It is an attractive place, palm trees running down to the sea and flat dense land in the background. We met a nice little girl and she showed us her shell collection in her house with her parents – a bus back to the city was not forthcoming and an Australian boy gave us a ride to a village where we drank beer and met a fascinating anthropologist type – first he gave us a long dissertation on elephantitis, ended with a story of a man with balls weighing 25 lbs – he spoke with an English accent and had lived with a warlike tribe in the Amazon for 2 ½ years. The mosquitos bit and we left, were dropped off by the Australian and had a lift from a nice fat Samoan who told us about German scientists living in a tent looking for worms which appear twice a year in the full moon. We went swimming with Lafayette and Beverly. Nicholas lost his shoe.
After a troubled night, Gladys being the main cause, we had delicious scones for breakfast and coffee in a thermos. I had two holes filled in the dentist department of the hospital. The rest of the day was spent in burning heat, trekking round boats. Apell? Became our arch enemy in being unable to make a price for us to go on a Japanese boat, bound for Suva. He is inefficient and we dislike him enormously. The Dick had one cancellation so sailed off without us. We saw a New Zealand yacht setting off for a strange uninhabited island. It grew hotter and hotter and we grew grumpy and tired, humping our luggage around. Laf gave us a rucksack, so we walked in trepidation to his house and found everything easier than we expected. Beverly greeted us with beer and we became better humoured. The evening was spent indoors and carrying the people who bought the boats luggage to their Samoan house – they were a tiresome couple with a horrid child with fat cheeks. We ate tuna sandwich and beans, for supper and went to bed at half past nine. Gladys behaved herself all night and we had uninterrupted sleep.
We arrived at the airport in a bus all to ourselves. We had hotcakes wrapped up in greaseproof paper. We arrived in Western Samoa in great heat and the airport is by the sea and there are bushes of wild flowers. On the way to Apia we saw neat villages with mowed grass, emaciated horses and lavatories in the sea like the San Blas ones. Apia is more interesting and larger than PP with large shops selling everything. Nicholas bought Hong Kong jeans which have now been cut down to shorts -the day was exhausting. We struggled with our luggage to Dick Carpenters bottling place and waited for him and met a fair very talkative Dane who drove us to a beach the other side of Apia and we trailed back past the law court and neat ? and pigs. We ate meat pies and the afternoon was spent in trekking back to Carpenter’s factory –and visiting shipping agencies with disheartening results. We landed up at the Casino – a giant, ancient hotel run by a nice pink old lady. We had a mammoth room, four extra beds on the veranda. I slept and Nicholas read and we drank good beer and met another Dane working for the UN and a taciturn English boy who had met the Whistle and friends in Santiago. An enormously tall, quite nice but thick Australian was there. We collapsed in bed having tuna for supper.
We had an enormous breakfast – eggs and junior spaghetti and spent another tiring time finding a cheap place to stay and transferring our junk. I suffered greatly from sleeping sickness which recurred and wore off alternately. Nicholas talked to a British Council lady from Fiji and we hope he will be employed by a Scottish chartered accountant in Suva. I slept upstairs and at half past one we made a superhuman effort and moved our possessions to the other side – the lady is very nice and gave us iced water and I gathered new strength and we had a picnic of tuna and crackers on the beach – the sea naturally was extremely shallow and we saw people fishing near the shore with a net. We saw crabs and a rat and retraced our steps back to the wharf where we talked to some of the people on the yacht and some little girls played a nasty trick on us in trying to sell us a necklace. We returned to our house and the tabby cat sat on my tummy and we went out at seven and found the English boy eating his supper at Aggies. We walked to the Casino eating buns on the way. No one of any interest was there so we drank beer and retired to bed
While we were eating breakfast, the Union SS boat arrived. We went to see it tie up and the bearded yacht skipper was there, not very talkative and said he was full up – a disappointment but Nicholas still harbours hope. The large boat disgorged dowdy old New Zealanders and Australians – fat old ladies and gentlemen waddling along wearing flowers which presumably the boat had given. We packed our basket for a picnic and setoff on the long walk to the centre of the town. Nicholas read in the library and I bought a 6/- very Samoan dress, very short, a mini dress, most disreputable but an improvement on shorts. We bought a pineapple and walked down to the other end, the place with the observatory and lovely flowering trees, red, pink and white. There are two or three curious little houses built over the water and we saw people fishing way out in the sea. There are coconut palms waving about right down at the water and the sand is much whiter than up the other end of the bay. There was a Samoan in his sea house watching us while we had our picnic, our pineapple was pale and disappointing. Striped fish attacked the pieces of crackers we threw in the water. We swam about and read our books in blazing sun before setting off slowly for the town. We read in the library – old editions of Queen and went home where we were given unexpected tea and then I attacked the assistant purser on the Matera? to no avail. We were persuaded to buy a necklace from an extremely persistent little boy.
Apia was very crowded and after a grave disappointment with a Korean fishing boat we caught a bus for Falefa and stopped at a waterfall an hour away. Most of the time was spent by the sea and we saw hills covered in dense undergrowth and plantations of coconuts. The bus stopped frequently picking up people. We sat on very hard wooden seats. When we reached the waterfall we walked quite a way along a track which climbed above the sea, past the occasional folly and past people cutting up coconuts with machetes. The sea was very blue and the shore was rocky. After some dissention we turned back and ate lunch by the waterfall – spaghetti and tomatoes. The waterfall fell onto a wide piece of river which joined the sea. A Samoan poised himself on a pinnacle of rock and plunged into the river, afterwards we learned it was for the benefit of a tourist who gave him 10/-. We ate tarro in this folly for which we paid 2/- and started walking home followed by hordes of children and there was a brief downpour. We covered out basket with an enormous leaf and everything was kept dry. We arrived back by bus and practically went straight to bed.
There was a downpour and all the shutters were closed. We had breakfast supplemented by the Indians toast, I did the washing and we read until the nice lady came and gave us lunch which included roasted tarro. We started off for Robert Louis Stevenson’s house and walked miles up an immense hill. Just as we were expiring with heat, a New Zealand lady stopped and gave us cold water in her house. She is a schoolteacher and lives in a huge, airy house with a shiny black kitten and dogs. We read Queen and she drove us up the hill to the house which had been hit by the hurricane but one could see it had been very large and nice with a huge purple clematis growing over the front and two fireplaces. A Samoan guard was reading his bible. Driving down to the village we had a good view of the sea. A storm was sweeping in. The lady whose name is Judith drove us past the college and lots of European houses and down to the sea where I found an empty sea urchin shell. Later on, just as we ? up, she brought the lady she lives with to see us and there was sticky conversation before they left. We inspected the chineesy fishing boats who were seething with people and they were evidently going to have a party. We ate fish and chips and buns and drank beer in the Casino with the Australian.
No letters. We read in the library and had delicious elevenses before setting off for the beach right down to the observatory. The tide was low and there were several people fishing. Spasmodically it rained and we ate bread and tuna fish under a bush and lots of tomatoes and sweeties. It was burningly hot and we plodded back home expecting a rain storm any moment as there were immense clouds floating about. We stayed in our house till seven. Nicholas yet again visited the yacht. We saw the movie about Italians. Europeans sit in separate seats from the Samoans.
We sat in a bus, waiting to go to Ala Apia? for 1 ½ hours, gave up and spent the day reading in the library and swimming and it was extremely hot. We had chocolate biscuits for tea and slept before drinking beer at the Casino.
The morning was spent in paying for our ticket and in the library. We go home for lunch and have our tuna fish picnic in the room. The old lady as usual was spying about. The NZ lady Judith, arrived at 2.30 and we set off on a long drive through the coconut and cocoa bean plantations and we saw a kingfisher, a Mexican cow and giant trees with growths hanging off them. We went to a Catholic boys school and met a Lebanese art master looking like Friar Tuck. The boy who showed us round, Bill, seemed highly nervous and talked away and gave us delicious ginger beer and orange juice. We went back to Judith’s house for supper and it went better than we expected, aided by gin and beer. We ate downstairs in a cellar like dining room and a giant centipede arrived. Insects fell into the food and we had tree tomatoes, a fairly strange fruit. We were given lots of NZ and Australian addresses and were driven home.
We went to the airport by taxi and it was a horrid flight. Bouncing along but with lots of coffee and lunch. We had trouble landing and had to buy an onward ticket to Auckland. We were given a lift to an expensive hotel 25/- each. We walked round Nadi which is tiny and went through sugar cane fields to a river, where we read Newsweek near a river and were approached by a young bull. This part of Fiji is very dusty and in the middle of a drought which spoils the sugar cane. There are lots of Indians and Indian shops and markets with Indians. Fijians selling vegetables and fruit. We walked back toward our hotel and an Indian took us in his car down to the sea. We like the Fijians more than the Samoans; they are uncurious and don’t giggle the entire time. They have fuzzy hair and are darker skinned and are more attractive. The maid in our hotel talked at length while we ate our soup and egg.
We started off for Suva at 8.00 sitting on the back seat the whole way. It was bumpy and dusty to start with, hills and goats and we saw Indian schools and funny covered in houses and bulls and emaciated horses and we stopped at a town by the river and had coke and tea and took pictures of the market. The bus was quite full, mostly Indians. We climbed up and down hills most of the way. The country changed to jungly woods and it drizzled and rained and the road was muddy. Occasionally we stopped, picking people up etc. We saw enormous beaches and horses playing on the sand. Towards Suva the land became flatter with herds of cattle. Suva is larger than we expected we went to the YMCA and found we were going to have to pay 25/- each for bed and breakfast and we find a nice Yorkshire lady who made a slight reduction – then an Australian couple came along. It was raining when we set off to the yacht club and a notice will be put on the board. We feel rather disharmonious and have a Chinese supper. We feel tired and there is an old gentleman in our hotel who proves himself an authority on most things in Suva. There are lots of boats scheduled for arrival in the paper so it is quite hopeful.
We had a big breakfast, ham, spag, egg and coffee. We walked down to the wharf and saw a cargo boat – the Nanang and met a funny captain of a Tongan boat – he showed us big sea turtles swimming around and striped fish and a little girl fell in and N rescued her sandals. We felt somewhat at a loose end and went home and rested and set off to Government House and watched the guards changing and crabs building holes and sunflowers in the park. It was windy and grey and we walked back past the enormous grey government buildings and watched the bowling club ladies dressed in long white dresses and white hats – we met an American - an ex naval officer on the Nanang. We had ice cream and fruit for tea and walked round the dead, grey town and drank beer and gin on the Nanang which is English. We are very excited about a native boat bound for the small islands and we plan to go on it. We visit the yacht and talk to the young NZ couple and the rich Americans. We eat Chinese food.
We have a terrible night infiltrated by mosquitos and wake up feeling very tired. Nicholas departs for the city to find Mac the American and spent an exhausting morning. I spent the morning finding a little Indian to make my dress. I find some Fijian blue and white material. The dressmaker tries his hardest to ? me and I find Nicholas and we both feel tired together and we have a Chinese meal and rest and go to the library until Mac arrived. We spent the afternoon wandering round the town to find that we had been changed to another boat because the principal of the island’s son was going on something. The evening was spent in eating in an Indian place, right up the hill and walking to the yacht club which was closed so we drank beer in a seedy bar and on the Nanang?
The morning we found the boat was leaving perhaps in the evening so we walked to the tourist office and set off to the Aquarium – a great disappointment as it cost masses to get in. So Mac had the brilliant idea of visiting the beer factory, which we did and got nine free beers as a result so felt quite drunk when we walked back and we had fish and chips for lunch and set off for the bus station and caught a bus to a little town outside Suva by a large river with ladies catching clams. We wandered around and drank a massive cup of tea. We returned and spent the evening trying to find beer to drink. We ate Chinese food for supper.
We eventually set off on bicycles after wandering around trying to go off on an excursion to Frank Reynolds. The bicycles were immense and we wobbled about as if we were a circus act. The Iberia was in and we wandered around it. We set off past Government House and ate our picnic on a wall overlooking the sea and watched boys spearing fish through the water. We bicycled on and met a hairdresser from the Iberia. We had iced lollipops and returned to Suva via a steep hill and visited the Yacht Club en route. The evening was spent in drinking beer, with JP?
I woke up very slowly and missed breakfast and we set off by bus to Frank Ransome at nine, along the same road as from Nadi. We arrived at the village and saw a poor giant turtle lying on his back dying slowly. We were taken in a tiny boat across the bay and arrived at a beautiful yellow beach and the sun was gorgeous. We found lots of shells, mostly of the same type, pointed tops, red and white and rather like giant snail shells. We walked by the sea to Frank Ransome’s collection of ?s He was out but we met a nice Australian lady who gave us ? and paw paw. The sea was cold but clear and we found interesting shells and things. We walked past a village with coal black pigs and found Frank Ransome still absent – a great blow - and we were forced to leave and waded back across the bay visiting an Englishman on the way - an ex Kenyan farmer who had a withered leg and a fantastic accent. Nicholas watched a rugger game while we were waiting for the bus which took us back to Suva in rain and mud. The bus driver bought prawns tied up in leaves on sticks. The evening was spent in eating supper.
A dismal day was spent. In the morning we paid for our tickets on the Oriental Princess and drank from twelve till four. PT was seen off on his boat complete with lavalava. We slept till eight and spent the evening in aimless wandering wondering what to do. An enormous Chinese meal was eaten and we went back home and read
We caught the bus at nine laden with provisions and arrived at the village to find the poor turtle being cut up. We were paddled over to the other side and walked along the beach to find the Ransomes were out in their boat. It was hot and windy and sand blew along the shore. We read and I slept and the Ransomes etc arrived back with a sea trout they had bought. A shark had been seen underwater. Ransome, a fairly tough character sent us over to the village on the mainland where we stayed in a house complete with windows and picture of the Queen and two large beds with mosquito nets. We watched the rugger game which lasted for ages and little children stared and giggled. Pigs and emaciated dogs wandered about. It got quite cold and darkness came quickly. We ate taco and turtle which was tender. We had an enormous pot of tea with a cosy. Afterwards there was great bathroom problems. We sat in our house in trepidation as guitars were produced and we were sent off to buy grog which was mixed up in a large white bowl by our host and the house filled up with members of the family. Four people sang to the guitars and dancing was commenced – fortunately we were required to do simple dancing – shuffling round the room. Cava was drunk at intervals – a muddy brown liquid served in half a coconut. There are three claps before it is drunk. We escaped to bed and spent a fairly cold night under mosquito nets.
We had breakfast at seven – delicious sweetish bread and tea. We set off walking across the mud as the tide was out and Bob Ryan met us outside his house and we had coffee with him before going to the Ransomes. We borrowed flippers and snorkels and goggles and had an unsuccessful time in shallow rocky water. My nose was too big to fit in properly. We lay on the beach and a fantastic wind rose so we couldn’t go in the boat after all but we had a nice day lying in the sun and snorkelling about. We saw tiny blue fish, striped fish and starfish. Nicholas found a funny sponge object. There was a fantastic current and we drifted down towards Bob Ryan’s house. We sat on the sand with Ransome before seeing his shell collection and going to Nukubati by landrover. We caught the bus and arrived back in Suva at eight.
A day spent in doing very little while we waited for our boat to leave – we had a picnic on the rugger ground, finishing our tins. It was hot and we felt really sleepy. We had delicious apple pie and ice cream. There were anxious moments while waiting for N’s suit to arrive. We took a cab to the Oriental Queen and found our cabins. Nicholas and Mac are in a four berth one with a YMCA type called Ray. My dormitory is large and there is no one on top of me. There was a great send off – a band playing on the pier, the Fiji farewell song and crowds of Fijians seeing the boat off. We had supper, ham sandwiches and tea at nine thirty.
A hot, fairly dull and calm day. We read in the morning on deck chairs – the boys played ping pong. I slept all afternoon by the swimming pool and all evening
We set off by boat to Vavau and arrived on shore in great heat and found hundreds of basket and necklace selling Tongans – they are an exceptionally friendly race with fuzzy black hair. The town was very small with a large white church which we walked past and along a road where a little man gave us a shell. We branched off through a plantation of coconuts, pineapples and bananas. I saw a lizard. We walked back to the road and a taxi carrying a very old man and his infant son took us for a ride to the next village and back. We met a 21 year old Tongan wearing a green lava lava who gave us a tiger shell for our first baby and one for Mac’s first wife. The Tongans look older than their years. We watched the terrible tourists buying baskets, grass skirts and we wandered about and sat under the enormous trees, constantly interrupted by numerous people who exchanged addresses with us. We were given another shell and fruity smelling flowers. We went back to the OQ together with some singing drunken Fijians with guitars and beer bottles. A stowaway was discovered before we set off. The officers panicked and no one knew what to do. The ship blew its horn continually for ? and eventually a boat arrived from the mainland and took the stowaway off – he claimed to be a Fijian and therefore should be returned to Suva. We spent the rest of the day drinking beer. I felt sick and Mac was persuaded to dance.
It got much colder and the first two days were quite rough. We read a lot and I sleep and sometimes feel sick. We drink beer and watch the dancing occasionally joining in ourselves and we goad Mac about his girl friends who continually cast him adoring glances. Nicholas is dressed up in a painted towel and my 6/- dress for the Polynesian night. We watch part of a ridiculous Charlton Heston movie and win money out of the fruit machines. We sit a lot of the time sitting in the lounge near the old ex gardener who is permanently asleep. We make no friends and fear we look stuck up. Nicholas buys a koala bear, rather crooked who eats eucalyptus leaves. We see the stupid policeman rushing round looking for stowaways, hand cuffs on his belt. I sew Nicholas’ legs back on to his shorts. It is getting much colder and we fear we will freeze in Auckland. Mac makes a hat out of a clothes hanger and there is a farewell dance.
We go through customs and got all junk off the Oriental Queen plus a tape recorder for which we were given a carton of cigarettes. We went by taxi to a boarding house which seemed to be miles out in the suburbs. Auckland is very green and tidy and quiet, as we expected on a Sunday. There are nice flowers in the gardens and a quantity of churches and religious buildings. We walked to the centre of the town past factories and dreary cemeteries and it began raining. We stopped in a touristy shop and saw a giant koala bear with a koala baby on his back. The middle of the town was more lively, people were wandering around, eating fish and chips. We were appalled by the price of coffee on Sunday -1/6 a cup. We walked by the boats and Mac talked to fishing boats – he turned surly from then on and wandered along to see the two American yachts one of which is gigantic. We didn’t see him for the rest of the afternoon and felt quite angry with his surliness. We ate chips and wandered around into a park on top of a hill that had a fountain with ducks floating about and a pale pink cherry tree. It was very cold and we wandered rather sadly around and collected vast quantities of maps from the AA, where we met a candidate for the election who talked at length about social credit. We had tea in a little restaurant on the main street and met a sports enthusiast who farms just north of Wellington and he invited us to drop in when we come back. We met Mac walking along still surely and went home, walking all the way. Auckland looks slightly more exciting at night with more people around. We walk back a different way and spend the evening packing and having baths. We had an enormous double bed and kb has to remain behind with the rest of the luggage. Mac slunk in quite early and we are very sad that we have to leave him in bad spirits.
We had an enormous breakfast and left Mac in better spirits. We bought bread and cheese and made off for the entrance to the motorway where we stood for about three minutes before a van picked us up and we were sped along the motorway being dropped and picked up fairly rapidly. A commercial traveller gave us quite a long ride then two boys who drove alarmingly fast. The country was green with fields and horses and sheep. The gardens have lovely flowers. We had a lift in a dirty lorry, picking up timber climbing thickly wooded hills. An insurance man gave us the best lift of the day, all the way to the coast, the other side of the island. We passed geysers and a beautiful green blue river with a waterfall which had been controlled by gates and the lake, which was quite large surrounded by desert mountains, up which we climbed and passed through dusty scrub country with lots of dead possums. We climbed down through sheep fields. Most of the sheep have been shorn and some still are last years lambs. We reached the sea about five and saw quite large waves and a freighter coming in. We were dropped off at Clare? and had a pot of tea with an extraordinary family half demented it seemed. We found the warden of the Youth Hostel a nice old gardener type, we decided to spend the night by the river, it was fairly cold and we listened to the PM Holyoake under the large lime tree we slept under. We had cheese and bread and it was very good cheese. All the NZ people we meet are extremely friendly and we have no trouble getting lifts. There are very few people in NZ – about two million we think.
After a cold night we got up late and ate bread and cheese by the river which looked like the Thames with tall trees down by the water. We walked to the bridge and immediately got a lift to Hastings, a nice sunny town where we had bad, expensive coffee and got a ride from an auctioneer quite a way through sheep country and we stopped in a sleepy town and a very old car with a very old couple gave us quite a long ride to another sleepy town where we bought two apples and felt rather tired and went on to another equally sleepy town where we got a ride from a fat man and we went through a gorge and I felt very sleepy. We ate bread and sardines by the side of the road and got a truck to ? – the truck driver offered to have us to stay but we decided to move on. We saw fleece drying in the fields. We sat on the road a long time before a Frenchman picked us up, then found a nice man who took us home to tea, which consisted of fried potatoes and mutton. We walked round his garden and saw his burnt-up tomatoes and met his wife. He drove us to the motor camp and we spent the night in a pipe in the playground
We got up at six thirty, crawling out of our pipe. We waited in freezing wind and got a ride to Wellington – a grey, really drab town lives up to its bad name. We had tea and scones in the station and arrived at the ferry in great wind. It was an amazingly modern ferry and I felt sick. Nicholas had an asparagus roll. Picton looked very like Scotland. We got a lift from a spinsterish lady in a Volkswagen who drove very sedately up and down hills, past gorse and fantastic yellow broom. We crossed several rivers and past an old gold mining place. The scenery kept on reminding us of Scotland and it was very windy and cold. Nelson where the lady dropped us off, was quite unattractive and spread out for miles into little towns and we had to walk for ages and it was dusty and we ate chocolate biscuits. We were by the sea and saw endless mud flats. An oldish man gave us a ride, he turned out to be a farmer and asked us home for the night. We were very excited being on a New Zealand farm at last. He is called Ray Quinny and had an old farmhouse under the hills on which he farms sheep. We watched television, a combination of English and American and we had tea and immense helpings of mutton, mashed potatoes. They have six children, the youngest girl an imbecile. The two boys were there, one called ? who had written to the Queen and had two replies. We washed up the mammoth meal and watched the end of Bertie Wooster on the television. Our bedroom was full of holy pictures and bibles and I sewed up N’s jeans.
We were woken by the farmer bearing two cups of tea. We went on the trailer behind the tractor through little fields with sheep. The sheep dogs galloped along behind, mother and son. We climbed up the hill, Nicholas opening all the gates. We were shown all the various trees and explained about over-sowing etc. We were left at the top of the hill while he saw the water for the bullocks and we waited in the rain wearing sacks. We felt very hungry and arrived back at the farm and had delicious porridge and horrid gooey eggs and I started to eat before grace was said and we prayed for our loved ones etc etc. We much enjoyed Quinnys Bush and went on flying ? and saw the picnic grounds which had lovely trees and tables and games. We were quite pleased to say goodbye to the Quinnys and left laden with lettuce and milk which was exceedingly heavy. A truck took us up and down twisty hills to a little town where we met two of the hitch hikers we saw on the boats. They were sitting by the bridge and there was dissention in the camps. We walked on a long way and it started raining and we met an Englishman and ate our cheese, lettuce and milk picnic off a ? watched by a broody sheep chained by the side of the road. A very nice young man working for Dalgetty gave us a ride out of our direction to wait for a lift from a man he was meeting to see a bull and was going on to Greymouth and we drove along a dusty road and saw earthquake damage and a river which had changed its course as a result. We waited a long time for Bruce sitting by the side of the dusty road and playing games. We met the lady of the house in her car with five sons. Eventually Bruce arrived and proved unforthcoming and we were constantly ? by waiting for him while he talked to his clients. We arrived in Greymouth a large, fairly grey looking and found a huge, sad dog sitting on our bed. He turned out to be a stray. We ate steak and kidney pud for supper and met scores of girls. The hitch hikers again were there – Carolyn an Australian and we met an English man with frizzy hair.
We got up late and heard rain and wind and felt very upset. We had a good breakfast of biscuits and coffee and felt stronger and set off in pouring rain. We had a short ride to a junction and walked another mile and were picked up by a man driving a large Holden which gave us a ride to a little town where we posted letters. It poured with ran and we could not see the mountains. We went through woods with thick undergrowth – bracken and we saw funny cabbage trees and a few brambles, lots of gorse and broom on the hills. We went through several towns built during the Gold Rush of 1927. It poured with rain and we got drenched and walked out of the town – to be overtaken by Carolyn and Barbara and their old couple who were fat and friendly and they passed cups of tea through the window. Soon we got a lift from a fair young man who is working on the decimal system and we saw the Franz Josef Glacier with him – it was dirty and muddy and not as nice as Portage He dropped us off and we were upset and had 4/- tea and toast before walking and were picked up by a traveller, very friendly and he took us to see the Fox Glacier which is smaller. We found the old couple etc at the motor camp and we walked by the Matheson Lake, I wore the old ladies hat and gloves and we listened to interminably unfunny stories. We had greasy chips and steaklets for supper and watched endless slides before escaping to bed.
After a great greasy breakfast we gloomily watched the weather and delayed departure till ten. We walked three miles along the road with a paucity of cars. The two boys and two girls arrived in their blue car and gave us a ride all the way to Wanaka in rain. We drove agonisingly slowly, stopping at a lake and at waterfalls and it was misty and dark and cold and we sat in the back and bought biscuits and had ice cream for lunch and arrived in Wanaka about four and were given the macintosh which had wrapped up cray fish and got a ride form a funny couple, married 2 ½ years who thought I had bare feet and the lady managed to be mildly amusing. We walked in icy rain along a dead straight road and were picked up by a man who took us to Queenstown and we went to the Municipal Motor camp.
My diary must be kept in better writing for now on. We got up very late, me especially and Nicholas read his book. We made quantities of toast and marmite and coffee and we decided to stay a day in QT – it was quite a nice bright day and we thought vaguely about riding along the moonlight trail. We ended up walking up Ben Lomond, a fairly steep hill which gave a beautiful view of the lake and we saw the hydrofoil and boats and water skiers – we got very excited. We saw some interesting flowers, but could not identify them. We heard a persistent bird hooting away. It was dry and dusty and we took exhausting short cuts which cut off the zigzags. There is a chalet at the top of the hill which charges 2/- for entry. We felt a bit exhausted when we reached the bottom and had a fruitless time trying to water ski but couldn’t locate anyone. We walked along the shore and the lake and watched brown ducks and one legged gulls. The water was freezing and we were quite pleased not to water ski. The middle of the town was deserted and we had lemonade at an ? place. It was cold and we went back home and had a domestic evening – meeting Carolyn in the kitchen who was quite amusing about the old lady killing a poor lamb etc. Nicholas read Funeral in Berlin and I read a ladies magazine. QT is a nice town, it appears to be purely for the tourist and has many Scottish type hills surround the immense lake.
A very dismal raining day – we set off in rain which increased steadily in coldness for the rest of the day. We walked quite a way out of QT by mustard fields and immense woolly sheep. We had a ride to Cromwell, where we bought provisions and ate in the railway station. We walked through a gorge with crags of rock and the wind was raw. We had a fast car to Alexandra and again had to walk out of the town, across the very blue and cold river which we crossed several times and up a steep hill when eventually a Wide Load car stopped and we crawled along in front of a crusher for forty miles. We went over high moors past ancient goldminers houses and acres of sheep and down into a valley full of apricot and apple trees, kept free of ? by little oil burners between the trees. Spirits were failing when we were dropped off and I broke my shoe, peeing in a hurry. Again we climbed a steep hill, a silly sheep and lamb hurried in front of us. We had three shortish lifts – two in the same truck and were drearily walking along when we had our first luck of the day – a nice boy stopped and took us to Dunedin and we drove through some of the richest farming area in NZ. We saw the sea, a very attractive coastline and heard a gory tale of sharks. Dunedin was Scottish looking and drear and the nice boy took us to the motor camp where we got a freezing cabin and bought a lovely supper and watched television – BBC programmes including one about Tanzania.
We woke up boiling and the sun is out and we eat nice eggs for breakfast. It rains when we start off and we catch a bus for the middle of the town which proved to be much like Scotland. We walked along Princes Street and saw old ladies sitting in coffee shops and it is all quite grey and there is a statue of Robert Burns. We catch a bus out to the beginning of the motorway and stand in misery in hail and rain storms. A nice old man picked us up and gave long lectures on farms. He put us off about 40 miles up the road and immediately we were picked up by a grey haired man who buys and sells railway lines. He took us 40 miles north of Christchurch through rain and flat fields of sheep. We went through the Canterbury plains. Sometimes we saw the sea, which seemed particularly green. I was dying to pee, in great agony for some time. We had a cup of tea in Christchurch into pouring rain. He dropped us off and we stood in misery till a truck carrying sheep to the Royal Show picked us up and we arrived in CC to find the motor camps full up because of the show and we made our cold rainy way to the YHA and we saw the beginning of Coronation St – old Ena Sharples still in her hairnet. We had a nice supper and a cold 1/- shower. We are assigned tasks to do before we leave in the morning. We have to have lights out by 11 pm. Sexes are segregated but N and I are being allowed to share the same room.
Activity woke us and we had a civilized breakfast at a little table. Everyone was rushing around, doing their duties – Nicholas had lots of jobs and I swept the kitchen floor before we left. We caught a bus into the middle of the town and it was cold and raining. We got my card from the YHA and walked about changing money. CC is not particularly attractive, it has a square in the middle of the town and a cathedral. People looked rather drear. We got on a bus which took us to the main road north and a dry cleaning man gave us a ride to another little town where we had a huge milk shake. We walked to the golf club and got a lift from a stocking salesman which took us to a junction where a little old car picked us up, the driver was a Vietnamese. He took us all the way to Blenheim and the sun came out. We were by the sea part of the way and it was very green. We saw gulls swooping on herrings and the Vietnamese bought three orange crayfish and immense ice creams. The country was typical of that we have already seen and we did not pay too much attention. We went through undulating hills outside Blenheim and were driven to the campground which has no cabins so we feel cold and get a ride to the other end of the town and buy our supper. A man gave a lift in his Herald, he and his son had been to see The Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines and he asked us to tea. His family was rather super, 4 children and a very nice wife. We spent the night and watched television.
We were woken up by tea and ginger nuts and left and it was a beautiful sunny day. We stood by the side of the road and Nicholas had to run back for the knife I left behind. We got a ride to Picton on a truck and caught the ferry – much older than the last one and we had a calm sunny voyage and ate the quantities of food provided by the wife. Wellington was sunny and we walked miles to the middle of the town and walked around the main area and had delicious milk shakes and saw the Parliament building, very briefly. We collected our luggage from the station and stood for ages on the main road. Eventually a telephone lorry gave a ride and then another truck carrying bananas from Ecuador, a fruit truck which took us on a detour and then we waited ages for a lift and were just giving up when a man testing Dunlop tyres arrived and he had driven over 1,000,000 miles. We landed up at a motor camp and gave a hedgehog a drink of milk.
It was beautiful and sunny and we had bread and marmite for breakfast and signed ourselves in the visitors book. The campground was very attractive with masses of mown grass. We walked along the road to the railway bridge and were given a lift by an eccentric man with a beard. We walked across the bridge which took us on to the main road and a half moon lady picked us up and we drove up and down twisty hills covered in sheep and it was sunny. The half moon lady has a Yugoslav husband, managing a ministry of works camp and she gave us banana sandwiches. She has fifteen children, the younger ones looking very Maori. Her husband drove us in her truck to a junction and we walked a mile or so and it was quite cold as there was a mountain in the near distance covered in snow. We were picked up by a curious little furniture salesman who took us the whole way to Auckland. We stopped quite near Hamilton and bought ginger nuts. He took us to his house and we met this family and he drove us to Auckland where we met his daughter. The lady who runs the guest house was out and eventually we got in.
We woke late for breakfast and discovered Mac who had been hitchhiking round a different way from us. We went into the middle of the town and walked around freighters with little success, so we booked ourselves on a P & O boat leaving on Tuesday. We feel in a quandary about where to go for the weekend. We had a drink in a sedate bar and got a bus home where we fell into bed and slept till six which solved problems of where to go. Nicholas feels ill and we drink milk. Mac arrives and is flying off on Sunday. We go down the road and have meat pie for supper and spend the evening writing letters.
I do all the washing and we start off for a very long walk, first to the zoo where we see a wombat. Also polar bears, lions, hyenas and llamas etc. We set off walking to the owner of the macintosh which is an exceedingly long way and catch a bus for the last few miles. Nicholas has acute hay fever and we start straight back again and the owners aren’t in. After walking a long way, a boy gives us a ride to the middle of the town. We intend to go to a movie but fail and go home and sleep early.
We go down to the middle of town and got £ for our travellers cheques and then change £170 for 8/- thus making a profit of £15 so we feel very happy and spend a lot of money during the day on 2 films, milk shakes and chocolate.
We have our usual enormous breakfast and arrive at the Orcades which is quite tatty from the outside and discover that there is a delay and we do not embark till 2.30. It is pouring with rain and we buy N a shirt and hanks and wait to embark. We are on the lowest deck and are very pleased with the boat. The people are much more personable than the ones on the Oriental Queen even though some are old. We have delicious tea and supper and take books out of the library. The boat is sailing at eight in the morning.
Our steward wakes us very early and we oversleep. We read all morning and visit Battle of the Bulge and meet a ginger haired nice English boy who is playing chess. We find our table at lunch and it is quite nice. An old lady, wife of an author is on our left and a nice hostess and loud Australian girl and her husband. We sleep during the afternoon and after supper N goes in for the frog race.
We rest and read all day. We drink beer all evening with Mike.
Nicholas misses two meals and has a violent hangover. We arrive in Sydney at six and it takes a long time to get right into the harbour and we sail through suburbs and under the bridge. There is confusion over luggage and we walk through dark streets.
We ate an immense breakfast and spent the morning sitting in the customs shed growing very angry as we were ignored by the officials and Nicholas ran off to the PO and came back with many letters. We are missing several expected ones. We have quite an amusing one from Richard and are pleased to hear from Stephanie re the slippers. We watch people with vast quantities of luggage and outside it is sunny hot. Eventually we are cleared, our tomato stock being suspected by the quarantine. We meet a Canadian boy who gives us a pink lei. We catch a double decker bus into the middle of the town and another bus to Kings Cross. We are in great heat and see Mac standing down the street looking for an apartment. We carry on and walk up and down, carrying our luggage and leave it in an unfriendly Chinese restaurant. We walked down the street and on the corner opposite St Vincent’s hospital and a park come across a little house, two storey, with a notice in the window and we go upstairs and see a very shabby furnished apt. The kitchen is in the veranda and there is a large bedroom and another little room. We decide to live there for the time being in spite of the inconvenient bathroom which is in the garden and very rural. Later we walked to the middle of the town, darkness comes very quickly. King’s Cross is more respectable than we had imagined though it has shady strip joints and some fairly beat types wandering around. We walked down William Street which is very broad and through Hyde Park to the centre which was full of shops with Christmas things. We walked home and had fish pie and a bottle of expensive beer. Our kitchen is dark, except for a street light which helps.
We woke at ten. It was a comfortable night except for a broken spring. It was hot and sunny and we had scrambled eggs and innumerable cups of tea and set out our for Bondi Beach but took the first bus we saw which took us to Bronte Beach. It was very crowded and quite small. The Australians are very clean folk and do not throw litter about and it was quite pleasant lying on the beach in spite of the bodies. The surf was exhausting and I was nearly drowned by fierce waves though they were not particularly high. We walked a long way to Bondi beach which is much larger and it was a nice view at the top of the cliff. Again it was crowded and we were followed about by a dog and we had a nice ice cream and home in a bus and are quite exhausted by the sweat. It is getting cooler and we have tea and rest and have spaghetti and tomato snack for supper. We read the Sunday paper which is just nice Tupe? We get ready for Monday and write letters.
We get up in our best clothes. It is very hot and sunny and we set off for the middle of the town. We have the keys cut and go to the PO where we find a satisfying number of letters. Nicholas has a fairly successful day and finds accountants are in high demand. I deal with SOS who send me off to two interviews, both fairly dreadful. It was boiling hot and my feet were agony and I became quite unhappy and was told off about my hair so bought a head band. Arrived home and found Nicholas who had tidied up the whole house and we had a dull supper and went for a short walk.
Nicholas has interview and accepts a job from Cooper Bros which is one of the largest accounting firms here. It is very hot again and go to three interviews, a chartered accountant and a flour factory who offered me a job. No letters at the post office. I wander about and find Nicholas at home about to earn £40 a week. We feel tired and have mutton for supper.
Nicholas sets off for work in his new white shirt and it is hotter than ever. I go to my agency and get £40 a week from the flour people. I buy some things from Woolworths and go home and look for a flat and we see some terrible rooms. Nicholas arrives home quite late and we have sausages for supper. Put new elastic in my bikini. Nicholas still feels tired. It is his birthday tomorrow.
Nicholas’ birthday. We get up feeling tired and he goes off to work and I listen to the wireless and go to the middle of the town and collect letters and buy ingredients for the birthday cake and go home and make the cake which is a ghastly failure and burns up. Nicholas arrives home and we have the remains of the mutton for supper and he had his birthday present – maps and aertex shirt. We go out to the bourgeoise pub for a drink and feel tired and go home.
We have pancakes for breakfast. Nicholas goes to work in an air conditioning firm and has a horrid day. He arrives home early. I do housework and washing and listen to the wireless and go to the middle of the town and collect two letters one a birthday card for N and collect the photographs which cost a fiver, quite horrifying. I walk round the shops looking for a dress and am horrified by prices and buy a skirt, blue and linen and costing £2.10. I go home and we have risotto for supper. Nicholas feels very tired and we write letters and he goes to sleep;
It is raining and we get up at ten and have pancakes and read the paper. The landlady, a Yugoslav, very loquacious arrived and talked and gave us lovely orange and white sheets. She has three nice children and showed me the washing machine and gave me advice re jobs. My 2nd cousin Hellena called and sounded very mature and we are going to have supper Tuesday week. It rained and we wandered around outside and went to watch a cricket match and saw yachts in the harbour followed by a cloud of flies. We walk home and have tea and scones and spend the evening in domesticity. We had funny fricassee for supper and fruit salad and cream.
A hot sunny day and we got up and have a large breakfast and go off to the beach – Bondi Beach. It is swarming with people and not very sunny, in fact it starts thundering and lots of people leave the beach. We go into the surf and there are several quite large waves. We pack up about three and find Morgan is closed so we go home in the bus and stay at home all evening and embark on a well thought out shopping spree.
Nicholas has a ghastly day and my first day at Gillespie Bros Pty Ltd isn’t exactly inspiring. Am introduced to all the people, most of whom are English and promptly forget all their names. Type invoices and dull things and go to the PO at lunch, no letters. It is quite a nice walk over the bridge to my office which is also a mill and see two small interesting looking freighters unloading. It was very hot and humid and walk most of the way home and find Nicholas quite upset about his work. He goes off to the library and runs into Mac, who had written us a letter. He arrived round to see us and is very gay and his old self.
As usual we wake up tired, grapefruit for breakfast. Again, it is hot. Nicholas has quite a nice day. Tomorrow we go to dinner with his boss. My day is dull and work on adding machine and avoid carols at lunch and write to Amy. The interesting part of the day was seeing round the laboratory, a giant kitchen with huge ovens and a special cook experimenting. Got lost on the way home as the bus raced past our home and I had to walk miles back and got all hot and bothered. Nicholas had arrived home meanwhile and had been to the library. We had baked pots and nasty ham for supper and finished the treacle tart.
We feel tired and have eggs and go off to work in horrid heat. My office is very hot and type innumerable similar letters. Three fire engines arrive to stop a sprinkler which was flooding the flour. A fan was bought for my part of the room. I met Nicholas by the town hall and we have a green milk shake and catch an electric train to St Leonards across the suspension bridge. We arrived at the ? which was fairly scruffy and were accosted by flies as we sat waiting for Evan Goodridge and his wife. A pedestrian couple with humour lacking. We met an equally pedestrian gentleman packing to go home and went to the Goodridge apartment – very horrid and had cold supper in an American type kitchen and sat on the veranda. It was a reasonable evening. We go home by train and walk up to Kings X. We find a letter from Albert and Mike and are stunned by Albert’s news – he is married to a girl called Lynn about whom we have no information except that she makes fabulous choc cakes. It is windy when we go to bed and we hear someone prowling round our sitting room. Nicholas is very brave and rushes off, however it is the wind.
Much cooler, I go to work in sandals and type horribly all day. Nicholas goes to the car auction. It is very windy and I walk all the way home. Macaroni and rice pud with sultanas for supper.
A cold rainy day. Nicholas does his wage count. I type figures and drink innumerable cups of tea. Letter from my mother. We have toad in the hole for supper. A very quiet evening. Nicholas is reading The Governor?
Nicholas makes the breakfast and we go off to the library and go shopping and arrive home and I make a pudding and we have scrambled eggs, specially made and read all afternoon. We have rock cakes and go to sleep until seven when we wake up and go to see Butterfield 8 and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.
We got up at twelve and ate innumerable pancakes and read the Sunday paper. It was a dreary day weatherwise and Nicholas organised a long walk through the Domain, the Kew like gardens and to see the Opera House. We saw a strange character talking in the park called Webster. He talks for 2 ½ hours and is very amusing and sells a tiny newspaper for 2/-. We had roast for supper and I made date tart. Nicholas read his economics book.
A very normal day. In fact is was so normal I can’t remember at all what happened. I read Vile Bodies at lunch. Nicholas played ping pong. No letters. Nicholas reads his economics book and I am very busy writing Xmas Cards etc
It was pouring with rain when we woke up and it rained all day. My kitchen was soaking. Went to the post office at lunch. It was grey and raining when we set off for my second cousin and went miles in the bus. It was quite a nice evening, lots of people were there. My second cousin it very elderly but attractive
Another rainy cold day. I go to the middle of the town during lunch and have a horrid time buying three Christmas cards and arrived at the office 30 minutes late. Not enough work at all. We have fricasee for supper. Wash my hair in cold water.
Rainy day. We had horrid boring days and I have nothing to do and write to Jill and read Time. I go by two buses. Nicholas feels ill – has his diet cut down. Fish pie for supper. I make rice pudding and we go to see Mac who is sitting in his tee shirt. We go home and find my rice pudding has overcooked.
I type abominably all day, my stockings arrive and there is a foul bus which won’t stop. We have revolting spaghetti for supper and go to the library. I feel tired and go to bed. We have an interesting book on S.E Asia.
I feel in a bad temper. We go shopping in an overcrowded super market at Darlinghurst and spend £3.10 on food. We have delicious pancakes for lunch and go to our park to read and became dissatisfied and set off for Bondi Beach. The surf is huge and I am very nearly drowned. We have macaroni cheese and go to bed at 7.30. Nicholas wakes up and reads till 1.20. K.B is up all night.
We had innumerable pancakes for breakfast and did the washing and cleaning. It was very hot and we set off for Circular Quay to catch the Manly Ferry. It was a nice journey to the other side. We saw lots of yachts and some large boats. Manly is just a suburb – it was windy and cold so we did not swim and wandered about in blazing sun. We bought some black bream and had it in egg sauce for supper
Mac arrived to see us and we consumed three bottles of beer throughout the evening
A hot sunny day, Nicholas went into his office and met a lot of people and went in a taxi. I had a green milk shake for lunch. We had tuna salad for lunch. N arrived back very late. Our income tax arrives.
It was grey and hot and it poured all the way home. We had shepherds pie for supper and the last of the fruit salad. I felt tired. And feel tired all week
Type horrible monthly accounts. An ordinary dull day. Nicholas goes off to his air conditioning job again. I rang up Helena about our yachting trip.
A summery day. Nicholas goes off to an obscure place, he starts off very early. Usual milk shake for lunch. Quite a busy day. We have a letter from Aunt Diana.
A very busy day buying food for our dinner with the English boy. Mac comes round with plates. Nicholas sits in the park. We have a better evening than expected.
A hot afternoon on the Bondi. Boney fish for supper.
We are both permanently tired. I fail to get up for breakfast, horrible stew for supper. Mac arrives.
A very busy day but ordinary day. Nicholas goes off to his margarine factory. We have liver provencale for supper and it is quite successful
A very trying day. A horrible roach in our kitchen and we see a little mouse running around. A very busy day. We go to bed tired.
A tiring day. Nicholas brings home sweeties in a jar. My duck is cooked in the oven in Gillespie Bros. Mac arrives and we have Xmas dinner.
The office parties are quite painless. We feel tired as Mac leaves so late. We rest from 4 till 8 and do our household tasks
We leave at 11, having gone to the library and done the washing. We catch a train to Penrith, a long hot journey, both feeling sick. We achieved our aim in getting into the country and saw green fields from the train. We walked a little way out of the town which seemed just like an American town and got a lift from a salesman which took us up into the Blue mountains where we had a lovely view. He dropped us at Springfield and we walked in great heat until a racehorse trainer picked us up and drove us through thunder storms and through greenish fields and trees. The road was very bad and winding so progress was slow. Our next lift was from a very boisterous couple and again it rained. A funny old man in a funny old car gave us a lift and we broke down and were quickly picked up by a truck. I sat in the back with a simple girl. We went a long way through sunny very pretty countryside, arriving at Wellington and we had tea with the baker’s family – all Dutch. Two mechanics gave us a ride to Dubbo and beyond. We spent the night in a fireplace, very uncomfortable with mosquitoes and huge ants.
Christmas Day. We get up at seven and Nicholas had his stocking. We get a ride within two minutes to outside Nyngar? – the last few miles with a funny man and his son who were looking for work. They dropped us by a gas station where we had immense drinks and we walked to the other end of the town and waited till the previous car picked us up. They drove us all the way to Cobar, a dead hot town where we drank delicious lemonade. We plodded out to the edge of the town and sat for a long time in burning heat in the meagre shade of a 30 mile limit – I was melting badly and a car drew up driven by a man called Tiger who had a cauliflower ear and was a very cheery type who invited us to lunch. He had a house full of children. We had cold food and there was a Greek boy called George. Tiger drove us out again to a hollow with trees where we waited for three hours, spiking ourselves with prickles every time a car approached. Nicholas saw a dead kangaroo. The birds were very noisy and eventually a French couple stopped and picked us up and it transpired they were going all the way to Adelaide. After driving a mile or so we found a place for the night, a fireplace with a large water barrel. We had a fairly comfortable night, with tea before we went to bed.
We woke at 4.30 after a fairly comfortable night. The flies pestered us as we drank our tea and it was hot. We drove through miles of scrubland with few cattle. We saw flocks of grey and red cockatoos. They fly very slowly and it is difficult to avoid them. The car got stuck in a mud patch next to an animal watering hole and we pushed to get it out. Mimi found some white lily like flowers and we came across a caravan and a broken down car to whom we gave water, a dark gypsy family. Willcana? Was very small, dusty and hot. We had drinks and I had a shower. The road to Broken Hill was much the same and the French drive very fast, Mimi very dangerously. We picked up an aborigine boy who had been standing by the road since seven. We passed a dried up river and several farms set a long way back from the road and water tanks. Broken Hill was smaller than expected and excessively hot. We saw the giant lead mines and had lunch, lemon spread while they ate a very French tomato salad underneath a tree by a war memorial. The journey to Adelaide was spent partly in sleep, the country changed to dried up immense fields with sheep and cattle. We drove to Point Price? A squalid town by the sea and were left by the French while they went off on a mysterious errand. The beach was foul, muddy with still smelly water. We drove off to find a place for the night covering miles and landed up in a Wildlife Reserve by a Methodist Church. We had a very comfortable night, with a few drops of rain and were in bed by seven.
We get up in clean clothes and have tea and drove off and are quite pleased to spend only a little more time with the French. The drive to Adelaide is fast through flat country and we arrive about ten and find the city deserted and rather Scottish looking with countless churches and parks. We drive off to the sea through horrid bungalow suburbs and being lost. Beach is rather shoddy and uncrowded. No surf. We have a hamburger and swim and Nicholas buries me under the water. We set off to the middle of the town and are dumped off in the centre, it is blazing hot and we walk along the widest street in the ? and catch a bus to route one and immediately a nice boy picked us up and drove us 10 miles to a suburban village where we had drinks and waited beneath a bush and were taken on by a dull old gent who drove badly through twisty roads up and down hills. There were masses of cars but none very charitable and we waited a long time outside a gas station by the Murray River until a nice farmer picked us up and put us down in the dried up wilderness by his herd of Dorset Shorthorns and his water tank. A car load of tough looking boys picked us up and drove a long way to outside Horsham where we arrived at 12.30. It was dark most of the way and monotonous. The boys were quite nice, one was a truck driver. It was a good night, quite cool and no pestilent flies.
We had coffee and delicious milk shake in a gas station before walking through a very spread out town and a ghastly type stopped, a disgusting driver, a bongo drummer player with a foul beard and we drove along at a fantastic rate through flat eternally dried up country, narrowly escaping death many times. The country was unchanging and full of sheep and cows. The outskirts of Melbourne were disgusting and we had tea and delicious cakes in the bongo players house which was out in the industrial suburbs. We took a bus into the centre and found the city very Victorian. We left our luggage with a nice English lady in a travel agency and wandered about, over a smoky bridge and into botanical gardens. It is a grey town with some unattractive buildings, lots of modern ones going up. We met an English boy who had driven from England to Colombo. He wasn’t much help. We went to the smoky railway station and caught an electric train, very old fashioned to Coburg, a working class suburb. We walked in the rain, had fish and chips and were stopped by cops. We were picked up by two youths, who picked up an assortment of hitchhikers along the way, a nice boy and three long haired youths. A case of beer was bought and the driver got steadily drunker and decided to drive to Sydney. We got out by a fireplace and were blown about in a terrific wind and had a few drops of rain. A quite bad night, it got very hot later on and the mosquitos came out.
We got up at seven. We saw giant skinny ants and there are thousands eating lemon curd in our basket. The flies were pestilent and we walked along the road with cars thundering past. A Volkswagen stopped and we went of to Wangaratta and had 6/6 bacon and eggs and a pot of tea in a very American type roadhouse. The boy in the Volks was very nice and we went along to Aldbury, the country becoming greener all the time. We had our water bottle filled at the gas station and a green merc driven by a German took us as far as the immigration project which stretches for miles and has submerged villages and trees which still stick out of the water. We walked along the bridge for miles to a gas station, past a camp for new Australians and fields of fat Hereford cattle. We had two immense bottles of drink and bought thongs and mosquito repellent and waited for ages near a caravan site, watching a beautiful white heron in a swamp stalking about flapping his wings. A family gave us a ride to the next caravan site by the water and we waited a long time before a truck full of sand came and took us a little way past more submerged trees, black herons and two greyish pelicans sitting on the water. We were very quickly picked up by two boys who drove us a long way to Corydon? through hill country with lovely scenery and views. An inefficient couple ran out of petrol and we had a delicious drink of lemonade. A farmer gave us a ride to a very deserted road on the way to the dams and Nicholas spent a few minutes in a ditch and a car drew up full of country folk and left us in a fireplace, lovely hills and trees and a stream. We spent the night there and read books. We heard a kookaburra laughing away and saw and heard a swarm of locusts attacking a gum tree
We washed in the stream and started walking up the hill, most exhausting. Cars passed us and eventually a meat truck gave us a ride over the mountains, past dams and s dead wallaby. We saw scarlet and black parrots. An old couple gave us a ride to Cooma past ski slopes and the country was quite flat further on with high grass and cattle. We had an immense meal in Cooma and got a ride from an Irishman all the way to Canberra which is very distinctive and well laid out with a very impressive war memorial containing bomber aeroplanes and pictures of battles. We got a nice lift all the way to Sydney, a bacteriologist and an English boy. We stopped for a lemon drink, arriving in Sydney at ten after driving through endless suburbs and over ? roads. We found three letters and presents from our landlady – socks and talcum powder. We were exhausted and had horrid soup for supper and choc pud.
We woke very early, no letters and Mac arrived in the morning and we shopped in Darlinghurst. A very lazy day – in the evening we go out to the excitement of New Years Eve and see people being arrested for climbing the fountain. People blew whistles constantly and we found it quite wearing. The crowds were fantastic. We had a drink with the man downstairs and it was disgusting brandy.
We read two newspapers and went to the beach, it was very cold and we did not swim. We spent a long time rock climbing round to Coogee Beach and saw crabs scuttling around a greenish blue starfish. We had to climb up a ladder to the top of the cliff as the tide was rapidly coming in. Toad in the hole for supper.
We do not go to the KB Park but go off to North Bondi Beach which is extremely crowded and the sun goes in rapidly and the waves are very small. We go home very early and read the book on India and The White Nile.
A day spent making new files and typing figures. Letter from Mother and Sister. I make orange custard.
A better day than Monday. Nicholas worked at the Wentworth Hotel. Letter from Employers Overload, stupid things.
Typed figures – quite busy. Nicholas has a headache and has a horrid day. Very tired and go to bed early.
Type an immense balance sheet. There are speeches in the office. Nicholas meets an interesting English boy. Risotto for supper. We go to the library and see an old gent playing a funny instrument with birds all around.
A bad start to the day, unsuccessful pancakes and no letters, however the day was revived by a very sunny afternoon on Bronte beach. We saw Raymond and walked up an exhausting hill to see Mimi and as ever had nothing to say to each other. We went home and had roast pork for supper.
We made a special effort to get up early and have a long trek to K.B. Park – quite disappointing as there were only 5 bears on stunted gum trees. They were all fast asleep and occasionally stretched and went back to sleep. We watched them sleeping for hours and there was a tiny grey k.b. immobile in a fork. We saw the ?s, very horrid faces and they managed to frighten the women and children running around with crisp packets. The kangaroos were smaller than expected, very docile and sitting in shadows. Occasionally they hopped around using their tails as levers. Their tails are very large and fat. We didn’t see any female kangaroos. Some were grey and a couple were russet brown. The wombats, nocturnal herbivores were fast asleep in tunnels in their wall and look like giant g. pigs. We saw enormous eagles and rabbits and peacocks with fantastic tails and a white kangaroo. The walk back to the station was exhausting and we got back in time to hear the band and there were lots of people listening. We had a domestic evening. I made treacle tart and we had liver Provencal.
We overslept and went to work on the same bus. I wrote to Sarah W. and Rita and had an uneventful day. I rang up my 2nd cousin Helena and we write a note to Mac.
We have quite boring days. Fricasee for supper. Some letters.
Mac comes to see us in the evening with his Yankee mate who is an American and nice. A nice programme on wireless about Beatles.
Nothing to do at work. Veal for supper and I am angry. We go for a short walk.
A very hot day. Read the last instalment of the Cuban crisis. Type silly forms all day. The lady in the shop round the corner tried hard to solicit my trade. Nicholas arrived back late, having smoked a horrid cigar and been drinking. I did housework.
We get up early and I am very busy doing shopping and going to the library then we go off to the beach, Bondi and it is very hot and calm. We go to supper with the dull Ryders, a nice ferry ride across the water. Their house is right on the water’s edge.
We get up quite late and have pancakes and are indecisive about the beach, eventually we go to Bronte beach and the surf is fantastic. Nicholas nearly drowns. The sun goes in later on and we went home. We made Queens pudding and the meringue submerged. A great wind arrives and it looks as if there will be a storm.
A cold grey day. Nicholas went to work by car at 7.45. Boring figures all day. Buy knickers and try to change my stripey. We are both bleak in the evening. Toad in the hole and sloppy queens pudding. No letters. We are upset and it is cold and windy
We got upset in the evening again and go off for a walk to Woolloomooloo docks, past hundreds of squalling cats and we saw a Makon? Line boat. We felt extremely exhausted when we came back and went to bed.
We decided that I shouldn’t go to work today so in the morning went off to the Indonesian Embassy who are very friendly and have a lovely little white ? in a nice garden. I walked miles to the non-existent Portuguese Embassy and went to the bank in Kings Cross before going home and made the supper and going to sleep We have a very dull post, our tax return forms. I waited for hours at the hospital and we did not have a definite answer. Nicholas arrived home and we waited for Mac and Helena and it was quite a good evening. Morton arrived up for a needle and cotton and brought a bottle of wine.
A very dull day at the office and typed cheques and did little else. No mail. I feel very tired and we have chicken risotto. Mac arrived and I am not allowed to drink.
A very hot day.
We get up late and go to see Marshal Ky at Kirribilli House. We see some people making ineffectual speeches and it is hot and boring. We saw masses of cops and Marshal Ky being taken off to lunch and someone was arrested for trying to swim to his boat. We went back home and spent a hot evening eating sausages.
We had pancakes and I did the washing and we deliberated whether or not to go to the beach. It was excessively hot and we went to the Domain and heard Webster where ? has practically vanished and all the various speakers, one communist, one anarchist, a chap telling dirty stories and the rest religious. It was hot all afternoon. On the way home, we wanted to go for a swim but decided against it. We had iced coffee and spent a lugubrious evening wanting to leave Sydney but decided to stay till the end of February, five weeks.
I had a very dull day. Nicholas this week is working in a choc warehouse. Quite a hot day and people continually complained about the heat over the ? No letters. I bought provisions in Woolworths
A grey day. Macaroni cheese for supper. Letter from Linda
A raining day. Am acutely bored as usual. Wrote to Stephanie. No letters. Liver and funny rice pud. Have a row with the lady in the shop over milk bottles and have vowed never to go there again.
A very boring day. Nicholas went to celebrate a birthday and arrived home with David Bishop – a nice lad who spent the night. I read an exciting book all evening. Very rainy all day and we get soaked.
Another dull day. Rainy and windy. I have terrible spots. Chops and sausages for supper
We got off to a very slow start not wanting to trek up to Newcastle particularly. It was an exhausting journey having about ten lifts. The scenery was quite motley – we went past Karang ? which seemed to consist of bush covering hills and then we went down to the Hawkesbury River and got stuck the other side of the toll road. An Allied Mills truck enormous and bumpy took us practically to Nelsons Bay which is very small and pretty and we rang Carolyn who seems to have lost some of her sparkle, nevertheless she coped with us very well and we spent the evening eating delicious fish in batter and went off to a gigantic place fantastically noisy with a band and crowded with teenagers. My headache developed and we managed to evade the party and were dropped by the tent which was by the sea and slept.
After lying on the nearly deserted beach till three and driving around earlier on, we set off for Sydney and had an exhausting time getting out of Newcastle. The ferry ride was disappointing. A newspaper lorry picked us up at Swansea and took us the whole way back and it started raining heavily and we arrived home freezing cold with our bags dripping
We had pancakes for breakfast. Very windy and grey. Nicholas bought two newspapers and three American astronauts were burned in their space craft. I went off to see Dr Zhivago which I enjoyed very much in spite of losing one dollar. Nicholas wrote letters and read. Toad for supper. Made treacle tart and apple crumble.
A really boring day. Letters. Raining and windy and Nicholas arrived back late and we had chicken for supper.
A great excitement just before we went to bed last night – a car crash and drunken driver on one corner, together with the old drunk man who is habitually in the park. A bottle of whisky was secreted out of the car while the cop wasn’t looking. Wednesday was a dull day, tho’ worked harder than usual. Windy but warmer. Spanish peas and finished C P Snow.
A day spent finishing the poultry thing and lots of figures. Felt bolshy today. Ate rock hard treacle tart for lunch and supper. N has his hair cut. My face is disgusting
A warmer, sunny day. No letters. Type invoices and many forms. Wear Fiji dress. Chops in breadcrumbs for supper, library.
We get up very late and had an uneventful day on the beach. Saw David Bishop and someone had been drowned in the surf just as we arrived. Chicken and rice for supper
A day spent in complete domesticity
No letters, worked quite hard
I arrived at work at 8.45. This poor chap in our house fell off the bus going up the hill past our house. I typed the accounts in dire haste and quite accurate. A very hot day. Apple pie for lunch. A very dull day even though was busy. No letters. Nicholas arrived home dripping in sweat. Morton rang us up. Leftovers for supper.
A very dull day, no letters.
Get up very late and both go on the same bus. Quite hot, no letters.
Had a row with the Accountant. Very traumatic day and gave in my notice. Go to the library. Veal for supper.
We go down to Rushcutters Bay. Lovely and sunny. Had supper with David Bishop, quite nice.
A very domestic day spent in reading, listening to the band, making roast supper, plum tart and scones. In the evening we clear out all our documents and throw away countless letters.
An extremely humid day with an immense thunder storm. Nicholas felt sick and is eating small helpings. Mend clothes and listened to a play.
Nicholas went off very early and the gas nearly went out. An interminably rainy day and I took 12 photographs costing 16/-. Quite a busy day. Roast for supper. A crash outside our house. Cleared out our drawer
Nicholas went off again at 8.45 and I have a very busy day. Haddock for supper. We went to look for a blue ? baby and can’t find one anything like KB. We are exhausted and sleep early.
Nicholas went off early. Heavy rain both days. Not very busy. We go to bed very exhausted both days
A domestic day spent reading with a late walk.
A sunny day with a nice walk by Macquaries ???
Uneventful days – very humid towards the end of the week. A diminutive man, Peter Robbins comes to supper on Thursday and we have beef stroganoff and peaches. On Tuesday we have supper in Morton’s theatre restaurant, quite a nice evening. On Friday I have a cold and Nicholas arrives late from drinking with Evan.
We had long conversations with our landlady and have supper with the Ryders starting off in a thunder storm. We have quite a nice time, no pudding.
A very lazy day, we walk down to the P and O boat in rain. Have greasy toad in the hole for supper.
A very ordinary day. Upset over Portuguese Timor.
Nicholas leaves his job
Very exhausted. We have a row over the teapot.
No Entries found
After a wearing day on Saturday, we get up late and collect all our junk and set off. The clouds were ominous, and it poured all the way to Chatswood and we sat in the station in pouring rain reading the paper. Chatswood was dreary in rain and we got a short ride and eventually got a very smart Valiant which took us down by the Hawkesbury River all the way to Newcastle in sudden showers and dropped us off on the highway to Brisbane. We saw giant smoking chimneys and Newcastle seemed as foul as it did previously. We had a farm truck with stinking manure and a dog in the back. We went through very pretty country, walked over a bridge and found a smooth looking boy whose car had broken down. A representative in a green Holden took us through the darkness to Willow Tree where we got an immense truck driven by a nice English boy from Luton followed by his mate, a funny Australian. It was very noisy and we went downhill very fast. We stopped and had an excellent cup of tea and got out at two in the morning at a picnic area and had a fairly cold night by a river unpestered by mosquitoes.
We woke cold and found the river quite nice, lazily flowing with some willow trees. We had cheese sandwiches and walked along the road, a forester in a pick-up truck gave us a lift to a sleepy one-street town where we had gritty coffee and we sat in the sun waiting for cars. A curious policeman talked to us in a friendly way and eventually a Singer man gave us an 11 mile ride just over the border to an even sleepier, deserted place where we waited hours and watched workmen doing dubious things on the road. An aggressive cop arrived in his car and immediately afterwards a caravan with a nice middle aged couple from Newcastle took us quite slowly, the whole way to Brisbane. The country was attractive and we came off the tableland where a curious bird ??? to plains with cows, sheep and horses. The road was extremely empty and there were very few towns. We stopped and bought delicious juicy apples. Sleep overcame me and Nicholas as well at one point and I slept into the middle of Brisbane which we like and down Queen Street which is the middle of the town and the caravan dropped us off and we rang up the Youth Hostel and ate our last cheese in a funny little park. Darkness fell and we toiled with a full water bottle along the Bruce Highway and slept in a mosquito ridden park very early. It seemed very deserted and we heard a loudspeaker from the swimming pool. We covered ourselves with mosquito repellent many times and I was bitten all over.
We got up in rain at seven after a moderate night and I was covered in mosquito bites. We had coffee on the way to the middle of the town and people were going to work. The Central Railway station where we left our luggage was tiny and archaic, and the town was grey but even so quite nice with countrified people and dowdy middle-aged people in ghastly hats. We sat in a hilly park and ate lunch and delicious biscuits and Nicholas slept in a shelter as it rained on newspaper. We felt lightheaded, walked to the station, leaving the city in a sand lorry driven by a handsome chap who took us out to the suburbs to dump the load. The houses were all wooden and fairly modern looking and parts looked just like America with giant shopping centres. A publican with a ?book of ?higher ?laws drove us into pissing rain past banana and tobacco and pineapple fields. We saw extraordinary volcanic rocks rising straight out of dead flat ground. There were acres of disused woods and it got steadily wetter when he put us down. Quite soon a Rover stopped and a grey haired quite unusual man asked us to stay the night which was nice. He lived in a prosperous area on a wooded mountain and we passed the only ginger factory in Australia. We had a very pleasant evening and slept down by the garage.
We started at 7.30 and saw the sea which came as a surprise. The cat was wandering round the lawn and we walked around looking at the flowers. We arrived at the main road and a lady gave us a ride to Naborer? and a nice aborigine lady came and talked to us having sent her son off to school. A jockey picked us up and drove very slowly into hilly wooded country with a lot of sugar cane. We waited a long time after that and a carpenter with a trailer gave us a long lift through miles of bush and fields. I felt sleepy as usual. He dropped us in a sleepy little town and we waited by the railway line until a boy picked us up who was driving all the way to Mackay, about 500 miles, the roads were quite empty and we drove along at sixty all the way, at first through endless miles of sugar cane about five foot high with little train rails running alongside the fields. We saw mango trees and lines of pineapples sprawling out of the ground. We bypassed Gladstone which is a dangerous town of ruffians and went on a forest road about ten miles. The sugar canes ceased and it became bush with a few fields with cattle and horses. Rockhampton seemed a nice old town on a wide river and from then on it got dark and we drove miles along a deserted narrow road, hearing abundant tropical noises and we ran over a snake and a kangaroo was sighted; unfortunately it was asleep. We arrived on the outskirts of Mackay at 11.30 and found a covered picnic table to sleep on. A fairly satisfactory night, though troubled by mosquitos.
We woke up in the shelter having been protected by the rain and we found a lovely shower and had marmite and cheese sandwiches. It was a long walk into the middle of the town and hot and humid. We had pots of coffee and walked down the main street which was quite attractive with palm trees. We walked over a very wide bridge and the nice boy picked us up again having failed to find his cousin or so he told us. We arrived outside Townsville about two, the road being under-water in one or two places and it was all very green with giant sugar cane and fields. There were hills in the distance with patches of rock. We waited on a corner and caused an accident when a lady ran into the back of a car which was stopping to pick us up – the police arrived and we were delayed for half an hour while the car was towed away etc. A car took us a couple of miles down the road and we waited a long time near a copper factory watching workers going home. Eventually a very old man and his apprentice gave us a lift on the back of a truck along a dead flat road with the hills in the distance to a deserted corner with a grumpy old man in the post office. We sat on a box while the sun went down and a car stopped and told us the bridge was down so we contemplated spending the day in the same place. It was a swampy area and the mosquitos were successfully repelled. A truck driven by two unknown foreigners got stuck in the road with a truck of bleating goats. We sat in the dark for a while and a truck driven by a curious fat little man with a squeaky voice gave us a lift all the way to the flooded river. He drove all over the road and nearly ran into several cars. There were quite a few cars waiting by the bridge and we were the second vehicle to cross the bridge which wasn’t very flooded. A stick got into the fan and caused the funny little man grave unhappiness and he got his brother to come and tow the truck into Charters Towers.
We spent the day the other side of Charters Towers having trekked miles with no one giving us rides except of an American. The city is spread out and sleepy and we listened to the wireless programme which was ghastly and consisted of wheat prices. A Scottish person picked us up after a very old yokel had talked for ages and drove us to Pennant, a little village on the main road next to the railway line. The country on the way was bush and we saw a pompous fat grey lizard cross the road and funny pigeon like birds with crests. We sat on the road till night, very few cars passed and we slept beside a tree.
We woke up at 6.30. There were noisy birds and flies. There was little traffic and we had an immense pot of coffee, used the earth closets on the station. Were picked up by a packed up van with 2 girls and boys driving to ?Darwin. If was a hot quite uncomfortable journey to Richmond passing through Hughenden. The country became scrub and dusty and we saw some emus stalking around in the bush. We sat opposite a gas station and motel with cars passing us but they only went down the road a short distance and most came back again. A boy with different coloured eyes who had come from Alice Springs was dead broke and got caught on the freight train hung around all afternoon and tried to get fed off us. It was very windy and the sun went in. In the evening we met a boy called Pete who is English and a jackeroo. His mate who was drunk, gave us some tins of food which we ate on the road in the dark. We camped with him down by the creek and had a good night’s sleep.
We had showers in the gas station and there were extraordinary little bugs crawling up our legs. We went to the town and had disgusting coffee, thereby missing two cars, one the International truck which sneaked out when our backs were turned. Eventually we got a lift with a man doing research on a sheep station. He drove fast all the way to Julia Creek and there were a few bad patches. We saw herds of horses and little else. The ground was green in patches. Julia seemed a desolate place, full of flies and very quiet. We sat on the road till a boy with a ? bull terrier collie told us about the long way round and we moved and then Peter came along and the rest of the day was spent doing little and having a 10/- meal which was poor. The rest of the evening was spent in finding somewhere to sleep. It was a cool night with a few mosquitoes.
An enormous centipede was found under Peter’s swag and we got up under a cloud of flies which pestered us till we left Julia Creek. We spent a miserable morning sitting in the road, a kangaroo was hopping around and after a putrid cup of coffee we were picked up be a rich young man in a Ford Galaxy who tore along to Cloncurry – the road had a few bad patches and we got covered in mud pushing. McKinlay was a dirty little place and from then on the country got much drier with a few creeks and stunted trees and funny brown things sticking up. Cloncurry was big compared with Julia Creek. A slow stupid English travelling salesman gave us a ride to Mount Isa and we saw little hills and rock. The mine was quite impressive with a huge white and red smoking chimney. The town seemed full of bars and tough men – we walked miles to ?Marety Street and spent quite a nice evening in a bar while a kitchen shower was in progress??
An extremely hot, exhausting day – a lamp gets broken in the morning and we do nothing. The town is very hot in the afternoon and we go for an unintended drive in a school bus. In the evening we go to a dam and see a huge pelican and some cormorants. We have a barbeque in the garden.
We got up quite early to visit the mine – Nicholas went on a 4 hour tour of the inside and I had a very boring 1 ½ hours on the surface along with two real oafs. It was excruciatingly dull and a long walk home in burning sun and blistering heat. The rest of the day was spent in laziness and great heat.
A revolting hot day spent sitting outside a trailer train depot and watching interminable sand trucks go past throwing dirt in our faces all day. Morale is low – there is speculation as to Richard and Madeleine arriving; they didn’t and we travelled home in apprehension just as the car was leaving – however, the evening turned out alright and we were bright red and went early to bed.
We sat by the side of the road in burning heat and were rescued at twelve and Nicholas decided to apply for a job – I spent the afternoon reading and went to sleep. Nicholas has to show his passport to the mines. They went to the Irish Dinner and we ate sausages and chips and read the Readers Digest.
We had breakfast in solitude and had an exhausting time buying beer. The day was spent in constructing a trellis for a Japanese honeysuckle and eating a delicious apply cake and going to see Dirk in an early film where Dixon of Dock Green was murdered.
We woke sweating and had boiled egg for breakfast. In the afternoon we had tea in a funny little house called the Telephone Box.
We got out onto the road and Napoleon the Greek from Julia Creek swept past and picked us up. His car was loaded down and had curtains – he was following a little black Austin driven by two Germans and it got a flat about thirty miles from Cammooweal, causing us great trouble and we drove back and forth with a stupid lout buying a tyre and saw an immense alsatian in the gas station. Cammooweal is a one street sleepy town with lots of black fellows and it was hot. Eventually we set off having a brief picnic outside the town, then we drove through green pasture land flat with herds of horses and it got dark with a grey and red sunset – we stopped at an isolated gas station and were given a water melon. We spent a miserable night amid mosquitoes and great heat.
We set off early, pursued by a cloud of flies and left our knife behind, we had coffee and Napoleon had bacon and egg. We set off on the main Alice Springs, Darwin road, it got extremely hot and it was bush country with rolling hills and creeks. We stopped several times in tiny little villages and crossed Newcastle Water which was quite impressive though not very deep. We drove all afternoon and evening gradually reaching more tropical country with flocks of parrots – some huge black ones with red tummies, we had a drink in a bar and went up and down hills until we slept well, though trucks passed.
We arrived in Darwin to find JMN engaged to Michael the blonde. It was not unexpected and we sent her a telegram. On the way to Darwin we saw many kangaroos hopping around on the road and a huge lizard. Darwin seemed a nice little town pioneerish, with bearded men. John Ryan did not quite come up to scratch although he gave us lunch and found us a caravan park and a caravan for $22, ? miles out of town. The rest of the day was spent in visiting the harbour, the employment place and getting home in a deluge of rain which overran the pavement and we got drenched and Nicholas felt very unhappy and ill and he felt better after spaghetti on toast.
We set off for the Portuguese Timor consul who proved nicer than expected and more efficient. We saw two bearded boys there. We spent an exhausting day in the town, our morale was low when John Ryan didn’t come up with the surveying assistant’s job and it was very hot. We took violent dislike to one of the bearded boys and I was rude to him. He is an arrogant conceited boy. So in disgust we left the bar. Napoleon was wandering around trying to find a laundry and we drove around for a few minutes with him. We sat in the law courts and watched a few traffic offences and went to the post office – no letters. Laden down with bread we struggled home and rested for the remainder of the day. Ryan didn’t turn up at 6.30 as expected. I read Hawaii and No Stopover, Tokyo and we had an endless walk trying to find a bar with no success and had lemon in the BP station.
Nicholas went off to the PT consul who proved most affable and will be at the airport on Tuesday. We had delicious toast and marmite and hung around all morning waiting for the laundry to be free and Nicholas learnt Indonesian language. We embarked on an exhausting walk down to the sea and the tide was out and the water at boiling point and the sand was currunculated and we saw no sea wasps. We sat under a tree with bindweed laden with giant green and red ants and it started raining spasmodically so we toiled home. Quite exhausted when we reached home and ate biscuits and tuna and I made my Fiji dress into a skirt – Nicholas read and was bored.
We got into the town and had a letter from Tonga, Nicholas was very pleased. Had a letter from my mother. We had a drink and felt tired, read in TAA and plodded along to the Botanical arrived home and almost immediately slept the whole night.
Nicholas went off to the milk place but came back at nine. We read and had spaghetti and rested and went for a walk down to the sea a different way and it was very hot and the sea was very blue. We went home via a boring cricket match and listened to a stupid play on the wireless. I had a headache and again we went early to bed.
We wrote to our mammas and set off for the town where we met Napoleon and we had a drink with him and swam. It is very hot in the evening
We arrived at TAA and found the two boys and went to the airport and had a nice flight to Bacau having free sandwiches and coffee and we saw a lot of green hills and sea from the plane. There were masses of bearded hitch-hikers waiting to go back to Darwin and we were packed off in the tiny aeroplane to Dili. It is a tiny, quite pretty town permanently sleepy with Chinese stores and very attractive little children. The Timorese are small and very dark and they stare quite a lot but haven’t irritated so far. There are tiny ponies pulling little carts and the army are in abundance and driving trucks full of firewood and other things. There are lots of little old ladies with baskets and hairy pigs and quite fat looking dogs and goats. We met an American crewcut and two Germans and there are far too many people going the same way as us. We drink a lot of beer and wine and have an extremely unrestful night on the beach in the boat house – the boys play their guitar and yell and it is excessively irritating. However, it was a free night and we had spent a long time that day trying to find a cheap place, Asia is going to be full of these endless hitchhiking types and we feel eminently respectable among them.
After extremely turbulent night we get up and feel tired all day and have good coffee in the Mimosa and it is overcast, humid and it rains at 11.30. We have shower in John’s room who remains icily polite after Nicholas’ aggression of the previous night. We started off on a long walk and went through the middle of the town through the outskirts past army establishments and tumbledown straw houses. We climbed a long hill to the hospital and had a good view of the sea and surrounding hills. There were an endless stream of people going up and down the hill and goats and we saw a muddy river ?ing a mile below the road. There are several large houses up the hill and jeeps and cars racing up and down. We ate an immense and greasy chow mien in the Mimosa and watched the rusty old Panamanian flag boat unloading with lack of skill the yellow and green Shell kerosene tins. It was quite an entertaining sight with a cursing Portuguese foreman and the white customs men and naval people with blue and white hats. We walked along the beach and slept by the diminutive lighthouse and the view of the hills coming back was nice. We spent the rest of the evening in the Mimosa and the nice Consul came and talked about tropical diseases – the Luxembourg boy and the aristocratic German came along and tried to make us go to the party given by the unspeakable bearded boys - we have a brief interrupted alarm – great leaps in the water make us think of sharks and we go to bed and the Luxemburg boy prowls around. We have a good night uninterrupted by mosquitoes and it is not very hot.
We had an early swim and it was cool, the day was spent in wandering around and we bought an ? orange in the market, sat while it rained in the smallest hotel with the Luxemburg boy . The rest of the day was spent sitting in the Beach Hotel and eating chow mien.
We arrived at the airport in a great flurry after breakfast of delicious rolls and marmalade and coffee. We thought we left the Golden Guide behind and there was great panic. The aeroplane left late and we were relieved the ghastly couple did not manage to get on the plane though they arrived complete with guitar. It was a very clear flight to Ocussi over blue sea with miles of yellow sand and ? wooded mountains. Ocussi is very small and we had a dangerous journey in a jeep to the middle of it and we had beef and egg, quite good with cockerels and pigs and goats. It is a pleasant town with coconut palms and extra sleepy. We started off in high spirits. A Portuguese army truck gave us a lift. We rattled along until we came to unpassable mud swamp and from there we started the long walk to the border - we crossed several large rivers with immense ? and rain came down from the hills. The road got steep and we toiled up endless hills past road workers and had to address each individually. We saw sturdy little ponies and wigwam shaped huts. We arrived at the frontier in great exhaustion and sat for ages while a big fat Portuguese policeman meticulously wrote details of our passports and we failed to get a bed in the hospital after much discussion. We walked toward the border and found John in his tent which we slept in as it rained.
We walked uphill to the border and gave our coffee to the Indonesians there and they produced porters for us, part payment being the machete. So we set off at a furious rate, the little tough Indonesians carrying all our junk with remarkable ease and it was agony at times keeping up with them. We took a short cut passing delicious guava trees and people wrapped in rugs looking happy and carrying maize. They had red lips from betel nuts and the women wear a piece of faded material wrapped around them and the men wear similar material from the waist down sometimes tucked between their legs. They are fantastically friendly and fairly curious. At midday we arrive exhausted in ?eng a sleepy village, hidden in the trees and consisting of bamboo and reed houses usually with triangular legs (?) We were taken to the policeman’s home and he was an extremely nice man with lots of children and we rested on a comfortable bed and we drank lovely coffee and orange drink and coffee and then we set off for Niaki? In high good humour followed by all the children of the village and we walked along a dead straight road with maize growing either side. We see a jeep piled high with maize but it shows no signs of moving. Darkness falls as we walk in a very low mosquito area and there are flashes of ? lightening and fireflies. We have a good night’s sleep drenched in dew and Nicholas is accosted by mosquitos and there were major interruptions.
We wake very near to the village 20 kilometres away from ? and we cross an immense river on a rickety bridge. We start climbing endlessly into mountains and are exhausted and the sun is shining and we are thirsty. There is a marvellous view of the mountains in the distance. A boy in a green shirt follows us a little way and we collect water and have a plate full of tiny bananas in front of a red house watched by half a dozen people and we plod wearily on till siesta time, through quite fertile country with fat horses. We have a nice rest attacked by many insects and descend into a very tropical area with massive tall trees and dense undergrowth. Nicholas saw a small snake. We had two hours good march before feeling tired and collapse exhausted by a wide muddy river. We struggle on, up and down endlessly and cross a very modern bridge and spent the night in a little village, assisted by the Colombo Plan to build bridges. We were taken to a small house made of reed and in it was a camp bed and hard ? with matting. There was great confusion and eventually a great bowl of rice, clotted together and tough chicken was brought one hour after we had dropped off to sleep. A very damp, hard night was spent.
We were brought over immense plates of rice and hot water. Payment was refused and people watched us eating breakfast. We started off up the hill and caught up three men from the village carrying long bamboo poles across their shoulders. They took our luggage about 9 Kms and raced along with their immense poles and our luggage, sliding down short cuts and we arrived at a battered bridge and a large house which has been constructed from bamboo poles and soon the bridge will be built sponsored by the Colombo Plan. We picked up our junk and painfully started up an increasingly steep hill and I got hot and extremely exhausted and we had constant stops. We passed a small village with a school full of children playing bamboo pipes and they watched us rest beneath a tree. We climbed higher over an open desert like area. We were parched from thirst and in a bad way. There was a magnificent view in the background, large blue mountains we had obviously climbed over. We climbed on panting violently, passing a couple of houses where we tried to find water but saw only a couple of naked children. In the distance we saw a coconut grove and a bamboo pipe overflowing with delicious spring water and there were ladies of all ages washing clothes. With new invigoration we climbed up and saw two European type houses, one with a yellow truck resting on petrol drums. We found the police station and John who had been there since 9.30 and we gathered there was hope of a truck. We bought oranges in the market followed by swarms of shrieking children. Niki Is a very picturesque village, high on a hill in a fertile area. We wait for supper at nightfall in the chief of police’s house and it was very good, nice light eggs in a funny brown juice, soup with pieces of meat in it and very black tough squares of beef. There was great activity in the police station, a chess game and we walking miles to the WC. Two trucks arrived, one we thought bound for Kupang in the morning.
We woke at 6.30, the white cockerel that was tied to the table crowing ceaselessly. We discovered the truck was not going to Kupang that day and there were endless varied reports of jeeps etc. We sat in the police station and people came and stared and we feel a bit bored, especially as N is reading his book and I try to type a letter but give up under scrutiny. We eat enormously that night first a huge plate of fruit, tangerines, bananas and guavas and nuts. We walked down to the water hole and slept early.
There is activity on the trucks loading of cassava and sacks of pepper. We eventually started off at nine, following a little yellow Colombo Plan truck which stopped countless times on the road to Soe. It was hilly, and we climbed high and saw the sea. We passed through apple country and saw extraordinary houses, roofs reaching right down to the ground. No windows and many extreme peasant folk, many old and toothless. We stopped hours in Soe, it being quite large with stone houses and a large police headquarters. All the children stared at us sitting in the truck – having picked up more sacks started off and there was a beautiful view of mountains and sea, all very uncultivated ? we saw fat cows with seemingly shaven behinds. We stopped in order for the driver to eat light hard boiled eggs. We had a feast of sardines and cold meat. We carried on, fording a large river quite shallow and we climbed and it got cold and spooky with Arthur Rackham trees. We arrived in Kupang very late, unloaded all the sacks and slept in the truck inside a compound.
We find Danny’s? ? a huge barn like building with KLM travel posters on the walls and we sink exhausted on to our beds and have funny showers with the Indonesian arrangement. We find a Chinese place to have delicious rolls and coffee. Kupang is an attractive town and the sea fantastically blue with little boats with huge sails. The rest of the day is spent resting. There are numerous mosquitos and are bitten constantly. There is a tiny mouse in our room and several mangy dogs inhabit the place.
I wake up with a sore throat and bad temper. We met a Melanite missionary and think we are flying off on Tuesday. John going by boat. Nicholas and John go off to the missionary’s house in the afternoon and have orange juice. They met a German boy, Jacques on the way who had his yacht sunk and was penniless and we had supper, noodles, quite good.
Another day spent doing very little. John went off to see his boat and we rested most of the day. The missionary arrived in the early evening.
We wake to the news Ed and Paul have arrived and do little all day, N reads, write letters and feel exhausted. An American and German boy arrive quite late.
A dramatic morning. The military, more specifically, the Governor’s Secretary requisitioned our seats and we walked miles up a very lengthy road to see him, a huge fat man who feigned innocence and was unable to do anything apart from say we could go next week, so we ended up going on the boat and the rest of the gang are on it of course. We found our share of the deck – confined space for four people. We bought sweet black coffee and bananas and the boat left at three full of people in pyjamas and goats, noisy cockerels and cockatoos with yellow crests on perches. We had supper at four 30 – rice, dried up meat, a hot collection of vegs and yellow hot water with an occasional tea leaf and there is a paucity of activities and Nicholas reads ? and I read Agatha Christie.
We arrive at Ende, Flores at nine and are ferried across in a gigantic row boat. It is an extremely mountainous island with extinct volcanoes and white beaches, the town itself is fairly squalid with a market, people selling everything including the fomented liquid we had ? the previous day. We had good coffee and delicious choc ice cream sold by a little boy and when we ate it scads of children crowded round, quite claustrophobic. It was too much and we went back to the boat laden with oranges and we went in a tiny precarious rowing boat. The boat sailed at three, we lay in our bedroom and slept till supper at 4.30. The evening was devoted to the exciting lures of P and E. John remains very aloof on a lower deck.
A hot day spent eating, sitting, sleeping, reading. Ed and P entertain the deck on the guitar and drums. Nicholas feels ill.
Nicholas feels worse all day. Life has improved with the appearance of endless coffee.
Nicholas feels increasingly ill and I began to feel funny. We arrived in the afternoon – Surabaya being a port full of old grey battleships and ? old freighter lay in the middle of the harbour. We got onto a smaller boat, together with white cockatoos and everyone else and got two decrepit old cars to the LMS hotel in the centre. The town seemed large and busy after Timor and there were thousands of betjaks and we went for an endless ride trying to find a place to stay and eventually found a fairly seedy place run by an old grinning China lady. We trudged into the middle of the town and ran into Mac and had a brief conversation. Very strange. We wandered round the shops which are large and have lots of Chinese stock and eventually go back to a night of mosquitos, heat and noise. The other boys go off to Bali.
We feel foul, Nicholas slightly better. Have an exhausting morning finding the P.O. and I feel thirsty all day and we eat in the afternoon and eat noodles in the evening and prepare to get up early in order to go to Bali.
We both feel ill but manage to get on the bus, a very old Merc microbus which is stacked with junk and we tear off through sordid outskirts and along an abominable road, either side little ?, canals and huge sugar cane and the railway line. We see a couple of volcanoes. We stop in a crowded place for breakfast and a nice boy pays for our food – we go on and on and the road in parts is execrable. We see ? plodding along dragging high carts and ponies and carts and we climb through woods and drive by the side of the sea. There are funny boats some with sails. The ferry is quite modern and we have a good view on the top of a large volcano and the crossing is briefer than we had thought. Bali is very pretty, rice growing in various greens, irrigated very neatly, temples everywhere in the rice fields and villages and the sea with white waves and deserted beaches and little villages with the usual countless children and goats etc. We pass over several rivers and arrive in Denpasar after dark and it is confusing with a market selling earrings etc and scores of people on the streets. We meet a boy who takes us to his house, a Government house for his brother who is a lecturer and we feel very weary and ill while we drink coffee and look at the huge pale carving he has made. His wife is very small and shy with a baby and we met an English teacher, who is tiny with great presence. We go to bed extremely exhausted.
I feel lousy and Nicholas goes to the police and meets the boys. The day is spent resting and feeling ill.
We go off to the hospital and are given masses of pills and remain in bed.
We remain in bed sweating and smelling and Mrs Oki comes along and sends a doctor and we feel ill.
Delicious porridge stuff made from pounded maize arrives, soup at various intervals of the day and delicious orange juice, all too little and we feel stronger.
Remain in bed, taking horrid pills and eating soup.
We venture on an excursion in the afternoon to the ridiculous Bali Beach Hotel, a vast American type hotel and feel incredibly weak. We arrive home and go to see Balinese dancing with Dibia, we waited a very long time through political speeches, defending Sukano and eventually saw the dancing which was accompanied by extremely load percussion music. The dancing was all improvised and looked like the dancing in the “King & I” – girls with very heavily made up faces being bumble bees and flowers and wearing, in bright costumes.
In the afternoon we walked through a village in hot sun with Dibia and saw fighting cocks caged up and ? and rice fields and people shitting in ditches. In the evening we saw Mrs Oki and ate delicious pink grapefruit and read old Illustrated London News.
We left the home at 2.30 and slept in the bus till it left at five – it was a quick journey to the ferry and the country looked very mysterious and lovely. We spent a long time getting across the water, we drank coffee and waited in impatience surrounded by military and small boys for our bus to arrive. It was a cranky old thing and we set off, packed out, a small boy being sick in a tin next to me. It was an incredibly trying journey back, constant stops, unspeakable road, intense heat, extreme feeling of dirt. We arrived back, the bus having an accident at the last moment and find our luggage is locked away. Morale is low.
We wake sweating, me in my clothes with dirty clothes and spend a long time washing and feeling seedy before we plod off for the town and have noodles and fried eggs and wander around buying wallets. We went to the station and amid great chaos caught a train to Jogjakarta, sitting in the train for 2 hours before it started with a strong smell of something horrid wrapped up in banana leaves. The journey took nine hours, through higher cane country and we stopped for fairly long intervals in stations and watched a Chinese family eating endless legs of chicken and peanuts. We arrived in darkness and found a betjak which landed us up in a nice hotel where we had a large room with private bathroom and sitting room and we found a dear little low ceiling restaurant where we had delicious omelette, quite superb.
I feel exhausted and we have breakfast in the Chinese place and walk slowly round the town, visiting the police for our visa to be renewed without success and buying our tickets to Jakarta from the station master himself. We looked at batik in the shops and walked down to a large ? square where an immense straw house was being built. We visited the university which was once the Sultan’s palace having a corrugated iron roof and thousands of birds twittering about and chairs and we looked at the outside of a temple, padlocked up where people were washing and got a betjak back and rested and walked round the shops – ate an omelette.
We caught the train and it seemed an extremely long journey 11 ½ hours of looking out of the window at sugar cane, many rice fields, stations, ox lying in rivers, a few mountains and lots of little houses. It got quite hot and we ate prawns on a stick and drank hot lemon for which we paid an excessive amount and arrived after seven, fought our way past the betjaks and walked along dark streets to a full hotel where we found an Arab who took us to Hotel Modaphi? Where we slept in a large room.
We collected out letters from the Consul and visited the immigration, fixed ourselves up on a boat, ate noodles, walked round the main part of the town, washed, ate in the German club and drank beer with an Indian. Djakarta is sprawling with a large square like a farmyard with a spike and piece of flame on top. There is a would be impressive road with buildings in the throes of being built here and there geese and goats. The canal is shitted into but not very obvious. However the city is pervaded by dirt, smell and fumes, the traffic is congested and is not really very attractive. We visited the American Embassy and collected our mail, my Cousin Dizzie has got engaged. We had two helpings in the German Club, delicious fried potatoes and saw Walter with a girl.
We had an interrupted night, flying bugs and a roach crawled over me. We had rice ? in the morning and one of the boys living in the front took us to the PO where we managed to change money. We had an exhausting trip down to the boat in a bus and find the deck class – right underground, hardly any air and people and all their possessions. ? selling for 10 rupias a glass, expensive tangerines and we were glad to get into the 3rd class where we met Walter and Bill and the purser was a fat friendly fellow who let us stay free, paying 50 rupias for food which was fairly uneatable, ? burnt coconut, a few nuts. We drank beer in the 1st class with a Chinese smuggler who insisted on buying pkts of peanuts and paid for a lot of beer.
A day spent sleeping, reading Time and Agatha Christie and we stopped for a long time at an island, letting people on and off, restarting again at sunset. We ate the usual disgusting meals and drank coffee, tasting like chocolate.
We arrived at 7.30 and anchored way out so had to go to the harbour in a Johnson boat, and we had an exhausting morning finding the agent for the little boat leaving for Singapore in the morning – we walked up and down the main street past the stalls and shops selling smuggled goods from Singapore, ate funny fat hotcakes in the market, bananas from England, drank ? and pineapple juice and eventually found the office where we had coffee and cake and waited until the Captain appeared and we discovered the boat to be tiny like a Panamanian one and we hope to pay little or nothing. We bought some blue and brown batik in the market and visited a nice lady with 4 children who lives in a little house full of bugs and she spoke good English and we drank very sweet tea and biscuits and tapioca and her children yelled and screamed and one had long curls even though it was a boy. We saw a mango tree and saw her husband building a house and we went back towards the town and met the others in a car and were swept off to Sacres? Neat little house and watched television all evening – Singapore and Kuala Lumper telly in Chinese, English and Malay. We drank Ovaltine and ate hugely of bananas and other fruit. We walked to the police station and settled down for the night with the poisonous smelling Walter’s cigars and were shoved off into another room and then taken off to the Governors rest house a large imposing place with deathly silence and a cabinet full of glasses. After sitting in chairs we were taken to our room, two beds in a cage. T/Pinang seems an old town with archways and a smelly crowded market. There is a water shortage and it is very hot and sticky and overcast in the afternoon. The people are very friendly and we were brought endless pancakes.
We washed and went off to the police where we sat for hours and hours and went off to the immigration who were very tolerant and ate many pancakes and drinks and wandered around the market and ate soup spending all our rupiahs and ate cakes and coffee and waited and waited and sat under the tree we pissed under and went and collected our junk and I wrote letters on the boat which we approached through very murky water past bungy type boats and the Customs man arrived and off we went and it was a nice view. We ate hugely of bread and margarine jam sandwiches supplied by the owner of the boat. Then when it got dark we had rice and good fish, angel and cabbage and tea in tiny cups.
The crew woke early and we went off to the Immigration after a noisy night, the people on the boat alongside sleeping in one boat and they played cards and talked all night. The immigration took quite a long time. Walter was odious and eventually we left them and collected our letters from the ?Maritime, a fairly disappointing collection. We plodded off to find a hotel, over the bridge which stinks as dirty water ? underneath. Eventually, we got onto Bergelou ? Street and found a Chinese hotel and we got a room with a basin and a fan for a reasonable price. We sleep till 5.30 and wash and go off into the town and are very pleased with Singapore, it is a very busy place with hundreds of thousands of Chinese with clothes hanging out of the window, living in rickety old little houses, keeping shops full of everything from ? to jade, endless shopping possibilities. We changed money from an Indian of which there are thousands, seemingly all changing money and selling things especially material and silver. We ate in a little Chinese place, delicious noodles again and Tiger beer, very expensive. We found the Raffles Hotel, a quite nice hotel with fairly cheap meals. A very long walk back and Nicholas does the tax.
A letter from my mother, an exhausting morning going round innumerable money changers who generally are quite likeable and we possess bundles of notes. We decided on a suit for N, English material and saw hundreds of plebeian British mostly off boats. We sat on a bench for a long time by the harbour with Newsweek and started to look for Guy’s present but the shops shut and we caught a bus to “the Great World” a sort of fair with amusements, shops, eating places, chocolate stands and thousands of Chinese walking about. We bought a battery razor, Chinese beer, material and got interested in jade and had a sweetish noodle supper.
I did the washing and drowned a roach. Funny egg on bread for supper, breakfast? We travelled in great style in a taxi to Orchard St, a smart street, to the Thai Embassy a great white building but it was closed on account of Coronation Day so we went back by bus and bought a fat jade broken trunked elephant and Guy a super dressing gown and tramped to the P O and got a letter from Richard and left our parcel. A delicious lunch was had, fish and chips and jam roll which was a big cheat, just swiss roll with cold custard. In the afternoon we met Bill and bought another jade elephant for Jill’s wedding present, very nice and more delicate then ours which is really a rather ? old brute and fat. We caused chaos in the shopping over packing it up, etc. And Bill got a gigantic box for his wood carvings. We went home, N did the tax and I wrote Jill a lengthy letter. We had our first meal with chopsticks and managed quite well, at a roadside stall, eventually the man brought a china spoon. We wandered around several markets, had Ovaltine and went to bed.
It rained all day and poured and poured and we rode round in taxis, trying on Ns suit which is very nice, not quite Billings and Edmunds though and had to be altered ? the shoulders. We decided on a darker material for the second suit. We bought lots of things in the Chinese Emporium, N went mad again buying musical instruments, 7 doz pencils and we bought some nice ? rayon turquoise material, three shirts with great difficulty. We had delicious ? ? lunch and ? home to pack up the parcel having bought another fan. It wasn’t too heavy at the P O and N had a fitting for his suit and we guess the tailor has a high price. We walked home, had delicious ovaltine and rested till nine and had delicious shrimp in noodles.
A bad start to the day made by me dropping the key down the unspeakable lavatory. Nicholas extricated it and we had a lovely breakfast with the Sunday newspaper and two cups of that delicious coffee. Afterwards I washed the smart dressing gown which smelt just as bad after it had been done and we hung around, crossword and letter, etc and went outside into quite hot sun and we walked through a smelly Chinese meat market and down to the Raffles Hotel and it poured with rain and we looked at a great variety of jade. We went down to the harbour and eventually got thro’ the gate, past all the sampans to see the Cpt. Of the Sinar ? and we went into the Chinese part and had lovely noodles after tremendous hesitation and lovely orange juice and we walked home through endless Chinese streets and bought lovely red and white knickers and had delicious Ovaltine. Our hotel is on Bencolen? St and it is full of Chinese and Indians – our room has a fan, most effective and basin. Bencolen? St is full of uninteresting little shops, hardware and is impossible to walk along - a couple of blocks along are innumerable markets and Chinese food stalls are very attractive even though they do have pigs faces hanging up and sometimes there are little tables where you can sit and eat, stunted tailed cats wandering past. We have been most unadventurous over food and haven’t tried the many rolls and things covered in fine breadcrumbs all shapes, dumplings with tomato on top. The noodles we eat have delicious cockles in them, they come out of tiny white shells and are very beautiful. This evening we saw a Chinese service, it may have been a funeral, there was a coffin covered with unfunereal cloth in the background. My Grandmother has died and has been cremated. Anyway it looked most festive, people drinking and eating outside, there was a lot of incense, priests in yellow robes and at least 4-6 people going round in circles with sacks on their heads. There was funny clattering music and candles and it looked very fascinating but we dared not intrude on it all even though people looked very unserious. We drank delicious Horlicks and watched the ? old white haired men making ? in our restaurant . Tomorrow we hope to start the journey to Bangkok.
It is our wedding anniversary. Nicholas has a sore throat and we ignore the alarm clock and are off by nine having eaten breakfast with the paper. The bus sped through well ordered green suburbs, past army houses surrounded by barbed wire but unobtrusive to the Causeway where we flew through Malay immigration and walked thro’ Johor Bahru, remarkable for its cleanliness and green grass bordering the roads and we waited about ¼ hour and it started to rain before a white lady with an affected voice picked us up, taking us only three miles. Then we has a considerable piece of luck – a whisky representative sales promotion on the yeast side, English took us all the way to Kuala Lumpur known commonly as KL – bought us coffee, fried rice and soup for lunch in a little town full of Indians and stalls and litters of tail cats. Much of the country we passed thro’ was rubber plantations on a large scale, mostly British owned, rows and rows of fairly thin, neat trees with Vs cut into them and the cup attached underneath just how we were taught at NFL. There was thick trees and thick undergrowth also, presumably jungle, people bicycling along wearing large coolie hats with a scarf underneath, lots of children wearing impeccable starched school uniforms and many Mercedes Benz taxis. We arrived in KL after five and had a frustrating time with the Youth Hostel and finally found a row of cheap Chinese hotels, mostly brothels as well with highly painted Chinese girls. We found one for M$4/- in a deserted one we again have fan and basin though still primitive plumbing. We walked a long way to the middle of the town and wandered about not knowing where we were and being unable to find many bright lights or a real centre. It is all very modern, zebra crossings, a sanitary seeming river, little filth, few beggars many Indians and, of course, Chinese with the usual shops of material, etc, though prices are higher. We went into several bookshops and had supper near our home, beer to celebrate and afterwards saw “the 25th Day” which was passable. A huge butterfly in our room.
Delicious toast, butter, sugar and coffee, then we caught a taxi to the Thai Consulate, along roads full of large houses and embassies called ? and were told it would take 2 days for our visa, it turns out we can collect our passports at 4pm. Forms in triplicate are filled out and we meet an English boy who was jailed and fined for overrunning on his extension in Thailand – we catch a bus to the middle and wander round the town which we find confusing and we are continually nearly lost but quite nice with stalls selling lovely Indonesian pancakes and 10 cent fruit drinks and fruit and lots of Chinese and Indian shops and modern buildings, zebra crossings. We walk round the Chinese area in search of a silk dressing gown and we felt exhausted and started walking home and ate and rested before setting off for the Thai Embassy in a private taxi which charged an exorbitant rate M$1/40 – there was great abuse and very nearly a fight on the immense ambassadorial lawns. The man behind the desk in the Consulate told him to stop shouting and eventually he was satisfied with one dollar. We waited for a long time for our visas, all hope for a Phnom Pen passport was abandoned as we saw the huge stamp stuck on my last page – we took a crowded bus back and watched a soccer match, whites V Indian looking people and sat on wet grass and ate an ice cream cone and wandered home footsore and ate delicious noodles and had delicious Horlicks, we bought a book which N is reading about Istanbul
We got up at eight, ate our usual breakfast and trekked down to the red and white bus which we sat in for ten miles in trepidation as to where to get out with our mountains of luggage and we went along a very crowded road and got out in sight of hills covered in trees. An Indian gave us a ride in an old truck with no doors and we went through very attractive country, a National Reserve with lots of hills, jungly trees and undergrowth and streams, everything very green with rubber trees and tin mines. He put us down in a bad place, the beginning of a little village. It was very hot and an Indian stopped in a shiny black Morris, a great talker in faultless English who works in land settlement, settling Malays and had a marvellous Indian accent and drove very vaguely and he met his friend who works in the PO in some little town and we had fried rice and rather tasteless soup and dusty tasting, very pleasant tea. We drove on, it began to rain and we stopped in Ipoh and had highly spiced Indian donuts in an Indian restaurant where there were turbaned people gobbling immense curry meals off banana leaves. The Indians seem to get very fat in middle age, some have very good looking faces, mostly the older ones, our Indian was extremely podgy as were his relations whom we ? It deluged with rain and we took our shoes off and Nicholas had an enormous hole in his sock and was embarrassed. We continued on amid thunder and lightening and torrential rain and were dropped at a bridge and sheltered in a banana store and it pelted down and a truck pulled up with an impossible notice “Fun Fare from Australia” and a very Aussie Australian jumped in the back and we had a three mile ride to the Fun Fair and it looked rather dismal in the pouring rain and we were taken on to a junction where we waited beneath dripping trees until a car containing a tarty girl, a Chinese and Indian took us 20 miles farther on and it peed with rain when we got out so we had very strong coffee and stood in the rain and basket fell over and a Chinese who is a rehabilitation officer drove very slowly to Butterworth where lots of Australian airmen are and we caught the ferry which crossed very quickly and we saw ocean going boats and arrived in Penang and found a Chinese hotel quickly and successfully on Chulia? St which has funny old little houses, Chinese temples burning incense, a huge mosque and open-air food stalls where we had very good food. The centre of Penang by night looks very antiseptic and deserted with colonial style church and other buildings built in white. The centre of the town was dead and deserted, as usual the Chinese area was buzzing. We had delicious horlicks.
Roaches prevented me from using the very nasty toilets and the night was interrupted. We get up late and it was blazing hot, sunny for a change and we couldn’t find bread for breakfast, had buns instead. After doing the washing we set off in great heat and walked to the Tourist Bureau through the centre. Penang or more accurately Georgetown seems a dreary place with lots of ? who come and say Hullo quite a lot. There seems to be little traffic and it is easy crossing roads, there are thousands of bicycles. We bought a very inscrutable elegant teak carved cat about 18” high (Siamese) and at last N has dressing gown though not identical to the first one, more expensive. We sat in the P&O hotel very British and unusual, quite like the Raffles and had noodles and delicious iced coffee and caught the bus to the Snake Palace, it continually stopped and the country was nice with the sea on one side, hills in the distance and little Malayan villages, oxen etc. The snake temple was commercialised, pcs being sold etc and is Buddhist though Chinese people run it and snakes are curled on bushes, walls etc and are all very much the same green and white patterns with extremely malevolent faces, flat chinned and horrible. At least six were coiled up together in a bush and they writhed like snakes are meant to do – people put them round their necks to be photographed. N took a picture of them on a bush. We got back to the town and wandered back past Indian money lenders and goldsmiths to our hotel and had delicious cold ovaltine. We had supper in the same place and prepared to leave tomorrow and hope our last night in Malaya.
A monstrous roach is found sitting in the red ? We cross in the ferry and wait for an hour in Butterworth on the grass verge opposite a row of shops. The sun beat down and we became drenched in sweat, morale was about to fall when a well-spoken Malay in the RAF gave us a short lift to the base and the Officers Mess was immense and it was the Australian air force, Carolyn Hartigan’s friend was there. An Indian picked us up driving slowly and badly as Indians do and we stopped at a little town selling numerous possible baskets and the Indian visited one of his friends – Indians have friends everywhere – further along the road a car load of his friends arrived behind us and he arranged a lift for us to Alor Setar, this time we raced along quite dangerously with two silent Indians through flat fields and kampongs either side. The houses are usually on little stilts and look very clean and neat. We saw pink and grey oxen and the usual people and things and arrived in Alor Setar and all the shops were shut because of the Muslim Friday holiday and the mosque was full of people wearing little hats and we heard a praying voice on a load speaker. We ate fried rice for lunch in a place with a bus load of tourists en route for Thailand including an American girl. All weddings are on Friday, lots of cars have heart shaped signs on their windscreen and we were picked up by a couple of Malays who were very smart in white shirts and off to a reception. A funny little English speaking Malay gave us a ride of about ten miles to a junction and the day got gloomy and it rained slightly. There were hordes of ducks in the rice fields and little boys stared at us from inside wire netting. Prospects looked bad but eventually a packed VW stopped, three men and 2 rifles and of all the unlikely things they were off to watch the Prime Minister directing a film. It must be his hobby. We passed through sinister plantations and were told stories of bandits operating in Southern Thailand and floods washing cars away. It seemed Somerset Maugham like with dripping trees and gloomy brick houses for the workers under the dripping trees. We checked out of the Malayan Immigration, caught up with the bus again and found a landrover with an English couple and two very fair children. He was teaching for the British Council. We also met a bearded Australian boy who had things stolen from his hotel when he went to the lavatory. He was going to Bangkok to collect his mail. The English couple took us to the Thai Customs and beyond where we had to fill out forms and went on to a little town by the sea, 20 miles off the Bangkok road, a mistake. It seemed very primitive as did the villages we passed through, wooden houses and ? We walked down to the sea which was warm and very attractive and walking back we saw monks in saffron robes, they didn’t have shaved heads. People stare a bit here not excessively. We had dumplings and noodles and ice cream outside and the Australian boy arrived having seen monkeys playing in trees. Later we run into two Walter like Germans and are amazed how awful they are.
We are woken by the thudding of the workmen and the birds twittering in their wicker cages – they are all sizes, several pigeons. There was no sign of the abhorrent Germans at breakfast which was saturated in condensed milk. The Australian boy turned up looking clean and paid for it all, something no European has done for a long time. We left at nine and got a lift with a very Siamese eyed Thai to Madya? And got a truck to Trang. It was the kind with a wide front so six people can sit, fairly squashed and the outside people are - outside. Before that we had a short ride from a smaller truck which was excessively uncomfortable and N got pins and needles. We had a short land rover ride in between. The drivers and occupants of the trucks are extremely jolly continually pealing with laughter. In the first truck we went along a straight road, quite dull though nice vegetation. There are some dear little upstairs houses with shutters and balconies and some have nice gardens and some primitive shacks with earthen floors. In the second truck we climbed hills and the vegetation was fantastically thick and jungly and we looked without success for monkeys chattering in the trees. There were some pale flowering trees and we saw strange grey outcrops of rock each seeming in one piece and they are extraordinary shapes. Some of the houses have tiny bird cage like houses near the road, presumably for the evil spirits to be kept away and some have incense sticks in them. We arrived in Trung in complete burning heat, the tar melted on the road and a cat narrowly escaped death under a lorry. We trudged to the city limits and very soon a truck stopped, going about 150 km and it had a fat, jolly driver who loved overtaking cyclists and pedestrians and a part Chinese lady, perhaps the owner or mother and three helpers who wear material round their head to keep the dust out and put the tarp and wooden front up and down, up and down, after each shower and they are fairly eloquent; thunder and lightning. The road was spasmodically bad and darkness fell and the great excitement was an elephant swaying along the road with little boys on top. It had tusks and huge ears and probably worked in the saw mills. We were given a swiss roll by the driver and stopped finally in a tiny hamlet with kerosene light and many things were unloaded, the Chinese lady in green trousers becoming active. We were besieged with glow worms, they flew in, glowed for several minutes and then presumably died. We unloaded sheets of corrugated iron at what was obviously the Chinese lady’s shop and went on into Lolcuk? Which is a seedy little town, wooden houses. We were dropped off at the hotel and got a tiny room, a bird lives in the rafters and chirps occasionally. We hid the suitcase under and bed and down the road had noodles and were seriously worried about our luggage as two shady types were wandering around outside and people came to the door and stared.
We woke when the light engine started. The lavatory is foul. We had over sweet coffee and pieces of batter fried in an enormous frying pan, floating in 6” of grease. Everyone is extremely curious about us and we become rather irritable when people tell us the truck is going back to Trang and there is a huge crowd of people around us and the not so jolly driver appears and we are driven 3 kms up the road to the China lady’s shop and are picked up by a scar faced man who had overturned his Landrover. The road was appalling, and we climbed up hills and it was overcast and made the little wooden houses drab. Our next lift was a gravel truck, 100 km and quite slow over abominably bad carunculated road. We took a picture of a water buffalo, head tilted upwards as they do when they stare and afterwards it did an ecstatic shit. They are very heavy and have a tough hide and look hairless. We waited 3 hours overlooking a buffalo field, they sit in puddles. Morale was sinking low, there was infrequent traffic and it all blew dust into our faces. A yellow landrover drew up and we were very excited to hear it was going to Bangkok next day – it was a caterpillar company truck, a white shirted man, English speaking drove at a hair-raising speed, round corners. The road was good all the way and clouds followed us. The women walk around in their bras, I wish I could as sometimes it is very hot. We arrived at Ranong and pulled up in front of a gigantic white hotel, 80 bahts, so we went into the town with his “boys”. It rained and we washed the dust off and walked down the street to eat noodles and drink ovaltine and the son of the landrover driver came and summoned us to drink rice whisky which is mild and nice. Tomorrow we hope to see elephants picking up teak in their tusks.
We woke feeling very stuffy and had ground rice with ginger and pork and set off to see hot springs and a nice river. We bumped along all morning. Nicholas tearing his shorts twice and saw two elephants, great excitement and nearly broke a bridge on a jungle track and saw black and white spotted butterflies. Lunch consisted of rice and pork and egg and we sped on, on paved road which made it vastly more comfortable. The country changed quite rapidly into deserty land, hills in the distance, a few cactus and very dusty. The traffic increased and we went through several little towns, I was dying to pee and we stopped, mercifully. The road got quite crowded and we saw six overturned trucks and buses – the Thais are woefully bad drivers. I dropped the ice box out of the window and N said good when the driver said it had broken. The outskirts of Bangkok seemed enormous, there was a duel carriageway, part of the way. We were dropped a distance from the railway station and got a bus and walked and spent 2 hours in the company of a Chinese looking for a hotel and passed the Thai Son Greet and finally found somewhere, 20 bahts, fairly primitive and had delicious fried eggs on toast for supper and met two English with a very U voice.
A grey day in many respects, pouring rain, horrible mud, we walked a lot going to the British Embassy, a Victorian building, walked in and out of several hotels, got excited about going down to Penang, catching a boat to Chittagong or elsewhere and this took up the afternoon and we met a helpful Englishman and it poured with rain and we sat in a travel agency and plodded home and our room was infected with mosquitoes and hot. We spent the evening in the Thai Son Greet which is full of Europeans though different from Ed and Paul. I do not like Bangkok very much. It is spread out, parts of it are dreadfully American, a really horrid InterContinental Hotel and many others, it is not attractive at least not the parts we have seen, ghastly lamp posts and shops full of expensive things for the tourist, including really gorgeous Thai silk and carvings. There are bars for the GIs, many night clubs and the women are very westernised in high heels. We had a disgusting lunch Thai meal, rice with horrid things on top. We find very few people speaking English and the Thais seem slow thinking without being stupid. One of the chaps in the Thai SG had a friend who stowed away on the Oriental Queen. We must make an effort to see the Floating Gardens, Thai Boxing etc. We will be very busy collecting visas a real irritation.
A much better day with hot sun and we got up late, walked miles to U.B.A? and saw the boy from Plymouth? And others, went to the British Consul and collected my passport, quite impressive, huge red seal and blue ribbon and went off to the Laos Embassy, tried to get our ears cleaned out, failed, went home. Walked round China Town
We had our ears cleaned out by a silly old lady Dr who charged us exorbitantly and did little good and collected one Laotian visa, getting frustrated by the unintelligence of the place, went to the Indonesian Embassy, an all glass, gigantic place. Were exhausted by the time we reached the King’s Palace, all we saw was a collection of varying shaped roofs, mostly gold, in the wat style. We swapped books in the Thai Son Greet and walked round the night area finding little action. Saw Ed and Paul.
On our way to the Indonesian Consul which was just shutting for lunch, we met Walter in a new shirt and he was very tolerable for a few minutes. We exhausted ourselves by dashing to the Consul and the rest of the day was spent in domesticity, reading and in the rocking chair, N played his instrument and we had a quarrel over a pc. Great wind in the evening.
We catch the train with minutes to spare and arrive at the airport to see a dual carriageway with Shell trucks and cars tearing along, however a car stops containing a fat Thai wearing dreadful shiny trousers and American boots, an excessively ugly Indian wife and his helper. We went through flat country with pink and grey water buffalo, being washed and ploughing in an unbelievably archaic way. There were nice blue hills in the distance and it got extremely hot and we had a flat tyre and delicious cold, creamy milk and we carried on, overtaking lorries and stopped for lunch in a park with a waterfall and lots of obscene bellied GIs were playing around with pretty girls and two had been killed in the waterfall previously. We ate extremely good fried rice and during the course of the day drank quantities of Coke, too much. We got off at a junction and watched little boys flaying poor beautiful butterflies with sticks and a pick up truck took us some of the way before it started to pour with rain. They deposited us at a bus station and we realised the Thais do not understand hitching and we walked through a town, past a huge pig with an extraordinary face and tail, really gross and a stupid fellow delivering a van gave us a ride 20 miles out of Udon and it pelted with rain and the car continually went wrong. There was a beautiful rainbow and the country was very deserted. We arrived in Udon which has a large airbase and saw GIs and negroes had their own nightclub and people tried to cheat us and our hotel was not nice, filled with foul smell.
A very late start and it was blindingly hot and we walked a lot trying to get out of the town and were getting frustrated when a truck took us all the way to Nong Khai which is a dreamy place with pretty flowering trees and the Mekong is a dirty river about ¼ mile wide there with high banks each side and we sped across in the company of a saffron robed monk reading a lurid magazine. We filled in endless between the Thais and Laos and funny fermented fruit drink before going off in a taxi to the city about 20 kms away. It is a sprawling, dusty town and filled with intrigue and we found the Canadian and German boy and found a funny bungalow to sleep in with fan. There were many Americans, French, Chinese and Vietnamese and the Laos are bigger then the Thais and much fairer and seem very honest in particular the sanlaw drivers are continually laughing, and have very jolly faces. The market, supposed to have been built by the Americans in pastel shades but we don’t think it is the right one is disappointingly full of material, etc, etc, no tiger cubs, gibbons or ? Our bungalow is two kms down a dusty road, the seedy night club area which always appears fairly dead – supposedly opium dens. We eat French bread, no butter and lovely iced coffee for breakfast and good eating places are few except expensive ones where you can get fried potatoes etc. We spent part of the evening in a French bar and beer is expensive and people speak French generally except the peasants. We are very disappointed to find no opium dens. We go into the hotel the journalists frequent and see an extremely tough woman and some fairly bored looking men. Vientiane seems very deserted at night and we accidentally stumble upon someone’s party which seemed a macabre affair, two couples dancing and rows of empty chairs and a table piled high with presents, wrapped somewhat American style, huge plastic bows, etc.
We wake sweating because the fan has been turned off at midnight and realised with horror we or rather I had forgotten the photographs and thrown away our marriage certificate. However, the Thai embassy were extremely reasonable and we have got a transit visa and it cost little. We met the Canadian girl and investigated American aid trucks to Pakse time consuming as we saw an American from Mississippi who was irritatingly vague and gave little information except as to his experiences teasing mean bears and menacing snakes. We feel very exhausted because of the great heat, it is a long way from the Monument to the shopping part of the town. The monument has a pretty ? Laotian tho it looks French outside. We visited the Buddhist temple, very nice with stone animals outside and balustrades like curving snakes and there are many young monks, their heads all neatly shaved for the festivities. We see a class room learning English and met a Belgian who has spent 9 years in S.E. Asia and it poured with rain, flooding the streets. We sheltered in gold shops and have a difference of opinion as to whether it is amoral to resell gold in India and it is very distressing not to make a profit. We ate in a rather rich looking blue restaurant which had fish darting around in a tank, waiting to be eaten. Poor things and one was gold. The moon-faced Swiss looked even sullener when a tiny plate of meat was placed in front of them, we had giant plates of fried rice. We walked home through puddles and got a samlaw. We heard a story about the Canadian boys and English and German – they spent the evening in the lido and refused to pay the bill and there was a terrific bust up with a gun and they were carted off by the police who were extremely civil considering.
Our alarm clock went off and we turned over and went to sleep, eventually getting up at ten in great heat. We feel exhausted quite and wander round the market and up to the Mekong where the festivities are taking place. It is a festival for the rain, rockets being sent up to draw the rain. A huge structure was built and the rockets each huge with fantastic patterns and long tails were let off and some fizzled out disappointingly and others went sweeping into the sky with clouds of smoke and hordes of little boys rush to retrieve the tails, one practically went into the river. Right now the water is very low and there is acres of sand – the processions are taking place all day, boys covered in charcoal, wearing coolie hats draped in leaves and later on they multiplied and chanted with a French man trailing behind with a tape recorder and microphone. Men dressed up as women, very realistically with breasts and painted faces and people trailed behind, moving quite like the dancers we saw in Bali but of course not so perfectly done but they moved their legs and arms in a faintly similar way. We drank quarts of orange juice and saw many Americans, with their movie cameras, some ghastly, dressed up females. The crowd of spectators increased during the afternoon and it became difficult to move. We saw what we thought and hoped were bats; they turned out to be chickens. Flying foxes are eaten further south, they are huge and eat fruit and fly singly and in shoals. Also we saw extraordinary bamboo canes, hollow, filled up with what looks like coconut, burnt. So far we haven’t seen any opium or ganga. We saw lots of extremely young monks, many sitting beneath big trees near their temples and unable to join in. They drape their cloth round them in many folds, one shoulder showing. We had lemon drink, most refreshing and saw the kitten with a tummy like a striped sweet. We walked into a shop selling gold and unpremeditatedly bought a 24 carat gold bracelet with a Happiness sign in a circle. For its size it is very heavy and looks immensely rich, making my rings look tatty. We have bought it as an investment as much as anything else. A great excitement and we will have to have it insured. We wonder around and see the Belgian sitting in a little restaurant and it is quite interesting to find a person who has lived in Asia for nine years and he lives on 60 cents and day and studies archaeology. It is excessively hot and the mosquitoes here. [sic]
We got up at seven and walked an excessively long way and the sweat started to pour and cars and trucks passed, the occupants staring suspiciously and not stopping. A priest picked us up at the check point and drove us on a wild goose chase to some American dwellings, we caught a little truck which deposited us in the depth of the jungle – superb butterflies, immense flies and a ? and a reptilian tail got us very excited , eventually after some traumatic moments a fat lizard raced across the road. A blue truck carrying empty Green Spot bottles picked us up and took us to Thabok. We charged along stopping constantly at guard posts and crossed the Mekong tributary twice on a little ferry. It was an extremely dusty journey and we went through tiny villages with houses on stilts, women in black with sagging breasts. It was jungly with lovely butterflies and after the second river crossing the country became more open with tall white barked trees and blue jungle covered hills in the distance. We arrived just after dark and there was an immense yellow moon. We were deposited at a hotel which had seen better days and had a huge billiard table and a bar. We met an American girl and a Frenchman and had a huge dish of crispy noodles and tripe, lettuce, onion and mushrooms and it was very sweet and two bottles of Tiger Beer. We were very disgusted in our hotel as we were cheated, the first time in Laos. Our room was extremely stuffy and we felt full of sweet food.
We got up at five feeling foul because of the sweet food and we spent two hours waiting for the Green Spot truck which must have started off earlier than us, we saw it returning from Savannakhet. We spent two hours looking for the road out, getting very obscure directions from people who did not understand the word “Savannakhet”. Eventually we found the right road and waited a long time by some boys with pigs, water buffalo and dogs and it got extremely hot and I felt dirty and it was very sticky heat. An IVS boy was supervising the digging of a well in a little village where we waited and caught an uncomfortable little bus full of betel chewing women with extremely sweet babies, one father who wasn’t allowed to take charge of his. We stopped at check points and to pick up and put people down and some of the road was appallingly bumpy and it became a fairly tedious journey, we stopped for lunch and the driver and helpers ate really horrid looking food, great lumps of dirty rice in wicker baskets. We were given some red berries, very sour and it rained a bit and the sides of the bus were let down making it impossible to see anything. We arrived in Savannakhet in extreme heat and found it to be a sleepy little town right on the Mekong and we found a Chinese hotel with a funny China man and a ? ? A gentleman who normally wears a turban, English speaking and his hair tied up in a knot on top was summoned to tell us to leave no gold in our room. We walked round the town and down by the river and saw Thailand on the opposite bank and little river boats. We had tangerine drinks and chopped meat and other unidentifiable things done up in noodle material, very good. We had supper in the open air and visited the movie house which was showing a Thai film “operation Bangkok”. During the evening Americans roared overhead, very low. We took our malaria pills.
We awoke in immense heat and had tiny teacakes with currants for breakfast, got lots of wrong information from the Sikh? And caught a blue and white bus for Pakse waiting I ¾ hr for it to leave, the passengers were the usual betel chewing women, made hideous by the foul nuts, lots of children, two very sweet little boys in white sun hats. We passed innumerable check-points, several army encampments with tanks and tents, the bridges were heavily guarded. The country was scrub, dry and uninteresting though we saw some wonderful orange-blossomed trees and white flowers close to the ground. The villages all looked dry and quite drab and people sold bats or pigeons and other inedible looking things on sticks. The road improved later on and the country got very open with hills and we arrived in Pakse, walked a kilometre to the centre over a Mekong tributary and found an American boy covered in acne who gave us information about conditions south. We found a Chinese (Formosan) hotel by the bridge and our room and balcony was rather French, stone floors and a nice green tree outside. Pakse had little to offer in the evening, ill lit streets and shops, no iced drinks. We make a fantastic find for supper, French bread filled with chopped meat in noodles and it is a great change and really good. N has Japanese beer. Also we find chunks of beautifully prepared pineapple with a little salt to sharpen the taste, very juicy. There are shops selling gold. We go to bed very early.
It is overcast and cool when we get up at six and march off to the wrong bus station, we catch a little bus with seats facing into the middle. It could have been more uncomfortable though a lady spat on my foot and eventually was sick. The road was good all the way, people got on and off including a most primitive looking couple, the man wearing a very brief loin cloth like garment and his wife looked wrinkled and sixty even though she was carrying a tiny baby. The trees got greener and the undergrowth more dense and we arrived at a little village right on the river and our rucksack had the string hanging loose, we didn’t realise it had been tampered with and later found the clock missing and Ns battery razor run down. That horrid boy riding on the top being responsible and we feel depressed about it. We commence walking along a beautifully straight road to the Cambodge road, every km and milestone saying 450 to Saigon, etc. We walked nearly 6 km in the first hour and then catch a taxi for an exorbitant rate, an old Citroen and not very friendly occupants, one of them what turns out to be the passport officer wearing a straw hat and we drive the 50 kms to the Mekong tributary to the little town the other side and find it impossible to get on to Kretie that day and we find people singularly unhelpful and unfriendly. We find a govt bungalow place to sleep with a bathroom and attempted bidet and a large airy room overlooking a garden which has a tree with giant fruit like highly coloured buffalos balls, a portly cat and a little boy playing with balloons. Things seem expensive after Laos and we have quantities of iced coffee and see lots of different sorts of brandy, cheap. The people and restaurants seemed squalid and their clothes were dirty and nothing seemed attractive except the Mekong River.
We set off in drizzle in an extraordinarily old bus with no aisle, jammed with people and the bus was checked thoroughly for smuggling everything taken off the roof and we saw the oldest looking man we have seen in these parts being taken home to die, of so we supposed, he was put beneath a red blanket. We sat in the back of the bus and felt tired and arrived in Kretie in burning sun – it seemed on first sight a pleasant clean place with pretty different coloured stone houses, green trees, however we were upset and frustrated by the stupidity of the people, mostly Chinese, from whom we tried to get a meal. I have never found people so maddening and we ate disgusting boiled fish with pieces of pineapple floating in a foul liquid. The Cambodians dislike white men, that is issue? And it is a disappointment to find them so unco-operative as it always sounded such a nice place. We saw dead funny bat skins In the market and bought bananas for the boat which left at three and had two decks and filled up towards nightfall and we slept on a mat next to other people and it rained quite hard and we escaped getting very wet. We stopped at little villages, one where we took on a lot of furniture and strange foods came on, probably bats meat, vivid yellow omelettes and we had a curious sweet s & k pie. N read his book and I slept intermittently and people rolled out mats extremely close, huge families had huge mats and there were lots of small children – the boat had fluorescent lighting. We slept reasonably, very cold in the middle of the night.
We were rudely awakened by a person shouting “police” at us and we found most of the passengers departed and the furniture being unloaded and it was overcast and drizzly, surprisingly nice coffee woke us up and we wandered around and it looks civilized compare with Vientiane, all paved streets, traffic lights and pedestrian crossings and modern buildings, some not very attractive but trees on balconies and roofs brighten them up. The market is a big dome, 4th largest in the world but doesn’t look it, nothing really interesting, lots of stinky foods, wine and sauce bottles from China, very little we could see made locally. We ate long French bread with red? Filled with bologna, onion, pickle reminiscent of New York. We find after immense frustration a hotel. Europeans are not allowed to stay in Chinese hotels and although masses of keys were to be seen we were refused a room. It is something to do with the exchange rate. Our room is immense, two double beds and shower and we washed and went outside in an abortive attempt to see the King’s Palace, where we were asked £1.50 and got upset so were unable to see the diamond studded bowler hat and we felt people were hostile again and we saw the Phnom which raised out spirits, a little hill with pretty orange trees on top and funny little wats on the grass below. We walked past the now non-existent Chartered Bank and up a wide street with green grass in the middle to the Royal Hotel which is quiet and dark and we are propositioned by many sanlaw drivers to change money but it is all very fishy. The old part of the town is very pretty with yellowy houses and peaceful. We saw pictures of Cambodian villages being bombed by Americans and it is obvious white people are disliked in general because of the anti-American propaganda. However it is extremely distressing to find people so blatantly unfriendly and unhelpful. The Cambodians seem very keen on badminton and the like and we watched several games. The city livened up considerably at night with bright lights and crowded streets, people eating outside. We had our first good meal since Australia – steak, chips and salad and all very delicious and for 3/6 each. Of all the unlikely places we found it in the market. Red and white checked table cloths and scores of beggars. The people at the next door table were eating crickets.
We walked a long way finding the right bus station, I felt stiff and had a temperature. The bus ride was amazingly comfortable, a big bus with no aisle and a learner driver and we had front seats which makes a tremendous difference. All the passengers were middle class except for an old betel chewing lady tho’ well behaved for the short time she sat next to us. We passed factories and saw an extremely modern bridge spanning the Mekong River and were stopped several times by roving cops. Our driver was extremely cautious and his instructor blew his whistle violently at pedestrians and cyclists. It was all dead flat country, though very pretty fertile land, not much rice growing, a few buffalos wallowing and the road was lined with flags for many miles. There were wooden houses most of the way along the road and there was a lot of construction work in progress new spacious houses with tile roofs, some cement. The people in Cambodge wear a lot of black material from China which has many different designs on it but still makes people look drab, even children wear it. The country got immensely open and we could see for miles. We stopped twice, saw a cat with many kittens and we drank coffee to excess all day. We arrived in Siem Reap about 5, a pretty place with a canal and water wheels and found a very clean hotel run by a fat Chinese lady in blue pyjamas and we had steak, chips and salad and omelette next to the cinema, crickets arrived in clouds which caused great activity among the children who collected them into plastic bags and bottles.
I rested till 2.45 when N arrived back exhausted from his bicycle trip round the ruins of Angkor Wat and then we had a five course meal served in a leisurely way. We rode the bicycle down to the PO beside the canal and rested and had supper and talked to the European folk.
We woke up in a horrible hurry and got to the bus just as it was about to leave and the streets were very dark and deserted and we bought a huge roll filled with pink greasy sausage. The bus crawled through the town and we felt sleepy and seedy and the Irish boy and his Japanese wife were in the front seat. We stopped innumerable times, picking up peasants in black and filthy faced children and it got hotter and hotter and we drank excessively as we had so many riels. We arrived at a sleepy little town to find no buses were running to the border as there had been trouble two days before allegedly a Thai had shot a Cambodge and we started off walking but returned to the town and got a funny motor bike with a sort of trailer which could take about 8 people and we went along at quite a good rate, in danger of overturning because of the potholes and midway we had a puncture and much time was wasted as a small boy stole the crucial nut and had to be paid for its return and lots of women arrived and had smuggled goods under their skirts. We arrived at the border and had mango, the first time we have ever had it and it was good tho’ tasted faintly of carrot. We arrived at the Thai side, a little village called Poipet and I peed in the gents shower and we caught a bus which flagrantly tried to cheat us and all the occupants tried too, so we got off. We caught a truck which took us about 200 km onto the Bangkok Vientiane road and Nicholas lay on top on wheat sacks and I sat in the front between two raucous voiced chain smoking Chinese and upset an ovaltine tin of iced water all over everything. It was dark when we reached the turn off and within minutes a land rover picked us up and we were in Bangkok by 11 and it was deserted and we were dropped by the railway station and we dashed to the Thai Son Creet before going to our hotel and fortunately everything was safe, though there wasn’t an empty room and the most senior member of the staff constructed a bed on the top passage, sheets and mosquito net. A roach ran across it.
We find Bangkok as noisy, exhausting and smellier than ever. The streets are too small to contain the traffic which is constantly wearing on the ears and the horns are quite piecing. We spend the morning buying our ticket from UBA and the lady there is not as nice as previously. We drink poisonous coke and 7 Up, consequently our stomachs feel bad. We are horrified by the cost of our visa, we have to give 20 bt to the silly airport and they do not take us there free. We look forward to leaving Bangkok, it makes me sweat in a curious way, grease comes out of my pores. The afternoon is spent in reading and sleeping and the evening is spent in the Thai Son Creet where we see Bill who is living with a Thai family he is going to teach for $225 a month. Walter was also there and got involved with a garrulous tarty little object in pink.
We got up very late and I washed our many smelly things and it is very satisfactory because the mosquito net now smells no more. We ventured out to the Thai Son Creet and had lunch and saw the Irish boy and Walter and went off to Thai boxing catching two buses which turned off, and we sat in a park by a stagnant pool and it is true to say that Bangkok is the nastiest city I have ever been in, the traffic and smell unceasing, the pavements are in such a state of upheaval and narrow, the shops look so dirty and the modern buildings are square blocks and terrible. It is the small taxis with motor bike engines that make most of the noise. A foul haze of grey hangs over the city. The Thai boxing was quite nice, they kick with their feet and it looks very graceful and they do strange things on their knees beforehand and wear ornate dressing gowns and there is a little band playing Thai instruments. There were lots of Europeans sitting in front and Thais in the 10 baht seats – we ate pineapple and it poured with rain and at the end, our section livened up with the appearance of a fat loud voiced chap who took bets. There was a television camera and suddenly it was over and we walked back to the TSC and read Time in a hotel and saw beautiful water lily flowers. There was a fair, obviously prosperous, German who droned on and on about the places he had visited and is a joke. Delicious egg and toast, a great treat for my poor stomach which is not too happy.
We get up at 11.30 and the day is as smelly and hot and wearing as ever and we walk along the noisiest street on earth to the Kings Palace and we visit the Emerald Buddha temple and sit on the carpet with the worshippers, having taken off shoes and socks. The Buddha has its clothes changed three times a year, with the seasons and is made out of jade, is thousands years old and used to be in Cheng Mai and belonged to the Laos when they were in power. There were various other temple like structures, gold coloured and wat like. We drank coke near a market composed of tents and it rained. We took a bumpy bus home, buying delicious biscuits on the way. The evening was spent in the Thai Son Creet, we met a boy from Birmingham and an amusing Irish, the ridiculous German was there, he has cold eyes like a fish.
Nicholas goes to collect the visas and is exhausted and we set out on the bus, a crawling journey and Bangkok looks as nasty as ever. The airport is relaxed in comparison and we have delicious pure orange juice and are aghast at the price – 14 bahts. Our aeroplane is quite small and half empty and we have lunch immediately and the thought of it now nauseates me. The flight took 1 ½ hours longer than planned owing to bad weather and we circled and did figures of 8 with horrid bumps and I felt sick. It was pouring with rain in Rangoon and the immigration and currency declaration etc took a long time and eventually we set off for the city in a ? old bus, the rain came down in torrents and we could see little, Rangoon was a city of umbrellas, all black and huge. The Strand Hotel has seen better days and our room was very luxey, real bath and English twin beds. We hurried outside into the torrent and got two betjaks which took us off, under umbrellas, to the Pagoda and on the way we saw a bit of the city which was grey in rain, the buildings were old, many Victorian English, the electric light poor, the shops had little in them, biscuits and barley water. There were midget buses screaming around, no taxis. We passed a market, people eating and they have lots of squash bottles and sell mangoes. It is a very green city after Bangkok, trees and grapes and we passed quite big houses in walled gardens, built by the British no doubt. The Pagoda, which contains some remains of Buddha, dominates the city and is made from £mill of gold. We walked up steps on either side with holy shops selling lovely smelling flowers and holy relics, beads, etc, ? we reached a platform surrounding the Pagoda and there were lots of little temples, all with a buddha, most look female and have red finger nails. People were preying loudly on the carpets of the larger temples and they offer flowers. There appears to be no opening into the Pagoda and during the night it is illuminated with lights. We walked down the steps and back into the town and it got dark and the streets ran mud and water and we sat two on a betjak and went back and wandered around and saw people walking around in puddles and it was all very dark so we had a luxuriating bath and went down to the bar and there was 1930 music playing very loud and I had Mandalay gin and we have supper with a Dutch perfume salesman and it was not terribly good, soggy pot chips and dried up chicken, there were hundreds of idle white coated waiters and we weren’t allowed even to see the menu.
Our telephone wakes us up at 4.30 and it was dark and very unpleasant and we caught the bus, the English gent from Glasgow pacing around downstairs. The bus was full of local people going to the airport and we had to fill out three forms again and felt cold and got on the aeroplane; breakfast was omelette and three hours out of Rangoon we were turned back because of bad weather. There is an Israeli couple on the aeroplane who are returning because of the fighting. I was feeling quite well when we landed, tho’ my stomach felt upset all day. The English gent from Glashow was quite upset and we returned in the bus and this time have a different room with a loud air conditioner and we go up in an antiquated lift. The passages smell of Ronuk. Lunch was better than dinner and more people present – the head waiter wears a too large white tux and has piercing eyes. We rested afterwards and walked round the town, it wasn’t raining and it was quite busy tho’ lots of the shops had iron gates up in front and the houses and buildings tend to look decaying tho’ the streets are quite lively, few men wear trousers, just a piece of long cloth usually large pale check. There are lots of Indians and little shops selling gold. There is a large square in the middle of the town with a spike like monument and a golden pagoda at one end. Lots of the buildings are Victorian, ? quite nice except when they are painted a disgusting yellow colour. We looked at the water buffalos and elephants in dark wood, very attractive and quite cheap. Perhaps we will buy one for Guy. The river has got several large boats, some river boats which look like horses and go up to Mandalay and some striped rowing boats which go across the river and back. It will be very nice being here tomorrow and we are sorry we cannot go to Mandalay. The Burmese seem quiet people and do not stare much, they are used to Europeans. There is a nice little park opposite the Strand and we had a strange pink drink, English and watched chapatis being made, things we will be eating a lot of in India, there was an Indian in a chef’s hat cooking. The evening was spent doing nothing, the salesmen were in a mellow mood but failed to buy us any drinks. Pork for supper and banana split.
An extremely lazy day – breakfast, though, not particularly good was the height of comfort with the newspaper and the Suez Canal has been closed, we wrote letters and till lunch read newspapers in the British Embassy. Delicious milk pud. For lunch, though a bit stodgy. We rested and Nicholas made the elephant purchases – an ebony one for Guy carrying a log in its trunk and it is being sent off in a parcel from Calcutta and a teak one for us, with an authentic bulging tummy. We walked around in the sun and bought “The spy that came in from the cold”. Saw nothing of note in the city, it looks rather bleak today. Saw what we thought was B ambassador in his Daimler. A large plane load of people arrived from Bangkok including the bearded English boy and another from the TSC. We hope the plane will be delayed again, life is quite delightful here even tho’ we have had banana split for supper three times running. We think there are a few Israelis returning home and we have seen Arabs too. We ate dinner with the Scottish textile salesman and afterwards talked to the Israel boy.
We got up again at 4.30 and this time completed the journey. Omelette en route and it was surprisingly calm and quite sunny. Surprisingly Mr Balfour the Scottish salesman came up with the offer of his Company flat so off we went in his car and an employee of his, Peter Trinidad who has an unusual pointed face. The road in from the airport was bad, everything dried up, some terrible s?s, holy cows and goats everywhere. Toward the middle we saw the human rickshaws trotting along and it is incredible they exist at all in this heat. Indian men wear loose flapping shirts generally white and a funny arrangement underneath. Few of the women wear Western clothes. We drove past the racecourse, the Victoria Memorial which is white and vast and could be ugly. In the area we are staying there is a lot of surprisingly green park and leafy trees. Some of the streets are wide and buildings in the British tradition. Gov’t House is imposing and in a huge garden. The flat is extremely luxurious, air conditioned bedrooms and three saluting servants, the cook, old, white haired and always in an apron, two younger ones. We spent the day in great heat and turmoil collecting letters, lots still missing and attempting to buy our ticket to the border and we waited in lines for three hours and at the end they were no shorter so we gave up. The station is littered with people who obviously spend all their lives there, many in rags, however we have not seen the appalling conditions there are here, though there are families we have seen who live on the streets but we have seen that in other parts of Asia. The holy cow wanders at will and very often you see one sitting on the pavement with hundreds of people hurrying by and they are permitted to eat off vegetable barrows. The nice lady in the tourist directed us to another source for our ticket and then we went off to swim in the exclusively white swimming club under the auspices of Mr Balfour. We see people eating scones for tea and go and collect our photographs and find Chowringhee which is a seething mass of people. There is a peaceful demonstration going along with red placards and we spend a long time in getting a taxi back, three boys come to our aid. Mr Balfour plies us with drink and we have steak and pastry and jelly and custard.
Another burning day, we get our Nepalese visa after much waiting and meet a rich old Yank who takes us to the centre in his taxi and we walk along to the YMCA and are disappointed, have refreshing soda and lime and arrive in the office of Gilling & Lewis, a drab old place to find Peter Trinidad who is a charming man and he takes us off to his friend who runs a fleet of trucks and later in the day in the pouring rain we get a letter to the main branches which will be invaluable. There are potholes in the streets and it is dangerous to walk when the rain swamps everything. There is tremendous black market over whiskey and other imported things and the chaps with the fleet of trucks is Trindidad’s contact for getting Balfour’s Black and White. An exhausting time is had in the GPO which a a seething mass of people. We spend some time in the market which caters for tourists and is clean and has old men following with baskets to carry parcels and continually pester. We bought socks. There are double decker buses and trams and people hang off them, mercifully taxis are comparatively cheap, it is too hot to walk far. The evening was spent in great comfort, eating roast chicken and pots , listening to the Beatles and to a very Scotch friend of Balfours.
A delicious scrambled egg breakfast and we did little all morning except go for a hot dusty walk and buy vitamin pills. We see terribly poor people and women in purdah and people swimming in a filthy river with the water buffalos. There are rickshaw men carting impossibly heavy loads and men with loads of hay on their heads. We arrived back and found Balfour and companion drinking beer at a fast rate and lunch was chicken stew and mashed pots and then the two portly folk went off to the swimming club and we were left with the servants packing up our sleeping bags and they were tipped in graduating scale and there was much saluting. Calcutta on a Saturday afternoon seems a really stinking hole and I don’t know how the impoverished Indians survive. We sat in comfort in the 1st class waiting room and chaos reigned on the platform and we were unable to find our reserved seat and I have never seen so many people on a platform, porters in red with gigantic loads on their heads and in desperation we hired one and eventually our seats were found, hard wood, by the window. It is a very cunning arrangement for sleeping, the seat pulls out to make the first bunk, the back of the seat for the second and there is one on top. There wasn’t much to see, flat country with villages looking very dry, houses of cement and stations where there was chaos, the Indians argue fast in loud voices but are not violent. The ticket collector pushed lots of pathetic looking old chaps off the train. We spend quite a comfortable night tho’ there is constant activity at stations. It is cool and there is a fan. It is extraordinary, in Calcutta there are coils of smouldering ropes at the drink stalls for people to light cigarettes.
I woke up freezing and the country was dead dry and looked white and dusty and the people looked dusty. We arrived at the junction and saw the funny boy from B’ham, John and there was a mass of surging people with colossal loads. We found our train and installed the English boy to look after the luggage and he was in a dilemma when the train pulled out but fortunately it returned. We waited interminably for vile coffee and toast. The station was full of really poor people, pathetic beggars many with useless legs. The train left at 7.30 and we stayed in it till 4.30 – dead flat country, mud houses, little greenery, dusty water buffalos and a few dwindling rivers, the earth seemed almost chalk white and it looks as if it has not rained for years. There are strange square holes in the middle a tiny pyramid made of mud. We stopped at stations, they seemed in the middle of nowhere. The trees surprisingly look greenish and leafy. We arrived in Raxaul and were met by a Nepalese very fair and attractive, who meets tourists off trains and sells bus tickets. Tomorrow is the King’s birthday and we have to start off early to arrive in good time. We spent a long time in customs and immigration, being transported in a little pony cart. There was a terrible mishap, a poor horse put his hind leg through a hole in the bridge and his ? were taken off and fortunately his leg came back alright. There are immense white oxen plodding along, rickshaws pulled by bicycles. We saw an old man pulling immense yellowy, very long snakes out of sacks, also a mongoose with a pink nose and fluffy tail. This seems a very primitive part because it is so dried up and is desolate and seems to be like how I imagine the M.E. The pony cart delivered us to a very primitive hotel, filthy beds and funny hose pipe for washing. We had toast and coffee in our room, lots of the houses have flat roofs. Tomorrow we climb into the Himalayas. We have only spent two days in India and it seems a not particularly desirable place to spend too long – the people are not as curious or pestering as we had been led to believe.
We sleep very well in spite of the party opposite and get toast and coffee in our room and wait for a long time and eventually set off in the front of the bus, no smoking allowed as it is run by Sikhs and they neither smoke nor drink and are fat and jolly, their hair tied up in a rubber band under their turbans. The bus was full mostly men and almost immediately we began to climb very steeply, it was raining and misty for the first part. We stopped many times, once had tea and funny ?? with swallows in the rafters overhead. We saw some very pretty birds, some with kingfisher blue wings and people working in the rice fields on the hills looking like toadstools under black umbrellas and some wear matting on their backs to keep dry. We went round some fearsome corners, trucks and things came down at great speed. We got past the tree line and it was craggy and goats bounded about, very reminiscent of the Andes. We arrived in Kathmandu at five and it is up high and the inhabitants look like all hill people, very varied, some in long heavy skirts with earrings and funny things on their noses, long hair, the men in baggy trousers and waistcoats and fez like hats and they smoke extraordinary little clay pipes. The Tibetans are very attractive, small, slightly squint eyed and dark thick hair, also there are well dressed people in suits and white shirts. The town is very old and quite unique in its old houses covered with fantastic wooden carvings round the windows and doors and they deserve careful scrutiny, the streets are narrow and cobbaldy and there are many tiny temples also with carvings. The place we are staying is called “the Camp”, putting off at first with its hordes of beatnik types but it is run by a very nice Indian and wife. It is a really old building, minute stair case with low ceilings, everything wooden, shutters for windows. We have a room for 8 rupees, two beds overlooking the street which has endless activity, spiny pigs and children. We ate curry, veg, not very good and Kathmandu is very ill lit at night and we did not spend much time walking around.
We spend the morning in the Camp restaurant eating fried eggs, jam pancake, tea for one penny a cup and we met a high class Indian who has optimistic ideas about going up to the Tibet border and we met an English boy who has had a series of interesting jobs in ?BC, worked his way across the Pacific, on the Barrier and for UK AID in Laos and knew my cousin Tessie in Aspen. We watched the procession for the King’s birthday, quite an interesting afternoon spent in crowds all pushing away and we squashed ourselves against the railings watching all the diplomats arriving and filling up the grandstand, the British Ambassador with wife in orange in their Austin Princess. The arena filled up with two bands, one looking quite Gurkha like and military in trucks very few and we stood behind fidgeting scouts and guides led by a Yank priest, with a bible. People paraded on the streets playing strange pipes and we saw women with earrings in nose and ears, really these people are very interesting looking, hill folk and the Tibetan people are most attractive and have fabulous smiles. Small and muscular and carry great loads. We spent the night in the Camp and are now the proud possessers of a terrifically furry yak made by refugees in a camp of Tibetans. KB approves. We ate Tibetan food, , ? delicious meat and veg in funny shells made of wheat paste. The Tibetan boy who sold us the yak had a cup of tea with us and has a sackfull of yaks, a lovely white one he sold to the English boy. The Indian who owns the restaurant is a rather striking pale Indian with some dear little children. The Beatles are played all day on tape which is quite welcome. We moved rooms and spent the night in a 4 rupee room, a real rabbit hutch with the mattress on the floor and little shutters overlooking a farm yard looking place. The temples apparently in the evening of people chanting and smoking hash. There is an extremely pale looking English man in a fez who is selling things in a little stall in the market. It is wonderful seeing all the tremendous cabbages in the market and great baskets of lovely looking carrots. There is a house by the temples which has really detailed wood carvings, peacocks and things.
It rained til ten and we walked with the Indian to try to get a pass to go within 12 km of the Tibet border. We went to the other side of the town to the Govt buildings, a huge rambling house with a wooden staircase and corridors and trees with large white flowers outside and fountains used for washing plates in. We found the right office and were told by a charming little Nepalese that it is not possible to get a pass. He wore a fez and spoke English with an attractive accent. Some Nepalese wear a strange white tunic over white trousers and look quite like dentists. After eating mince meat on toast we found a bus for the direction of Nagarkot, the hut nine miles off the road and we caught it, together with a flaming haired Scottish boy who bought a white sheet and had pyjamas made out of it in Roussal?, also two fairly puddingish English girls. The bus sped along scattering bicyclists and pedestrians and we started walking about 1.30 – the first hour and a half along the flat and we galloped along, N and I leading the field. Mountains were in the distance, little houses dotted all over. We walked thro’ a large village, little two storey houses with shutters, some with balconies, some tiled and others thatched. We passed brick kilns and the bricks look like sandstone. Either side of the path are rice fields in a fairly wet condition and we saw only a few vivid green patches. Cattle with huge humps are numerous and small boys prod and throw stones at them. We started climbing a gentle hill, the road winding round and round past little houses and children occasionally shout to us in their strange language. They wear the fez like hats at a very early age and the women wear black material edged with deep red which is very attractive. Lots of men have moustaches and prematurely greying hair. We walked up and up, the other four behind, past pine trees, a beautiful purple flowering bush and herds of goats on precipice like slopes, chased by the children. The tourist hut stands in a clump of trees and we struggled up a final steep slope, vainly looking for Everest which has been clouded in mist the last two weeks. We found an Australian and English girl and drank icy water straight from the tap. The little chaps wearing pyjamas and waistcoats on top cooked us pot chips, rice, soup and strong tea in a white and pink red flowered pot. The place was lit by hurricane lamps and we slept on extremely soft lilos.
We woke and heard pouring rain and slept till 9.30 and had tea and sickly Indian biscuits for breakfast. It cleared about 12, a mist coming down and we left the others squabbling over pots of tea and started down the mountain and soon it became very clear. We saw small birds with peacock like tails and a huge humped bull attempted to chase us, having been baited by small boys. We hurried on, through the large village full of water pumps, children and dogs and reached the road, finding the turning to the Chinese built road immediately and we sat in brilliant sun watching a snow covered mountain miles away. Little children clustered round us which is annoying while waiting for a ride, one little girl wearing silver ornaments round here ankle and another one with two black kids on a string. A bus picked us up and it was packed full with peasants, very colourful, the women put curious liquid on their hair and sometimes their ears are covered in strange gold rings. The old people are very weather-beaten. We passed miles of terraced rice fields on slopes and tiny brown houses and suddenly up a steep hill the radiator gave up and pails of water was poured down it and it hissed water all over the bus. We arrived at its destination and got on a truck sitting in the front which was cold but gave us a really good view of some stony mountain peaks which had been uncovered by clouds, sadly Everest to the East remained hidden. We descended into a valley and crossed an icy churning river on a bridge which had a yellow board beside it with red Chinese writing and the other side is a camp for the road gangs, different coloured flags surrounding tents and buildings and we saw Chinese in their overalls eating. The journey to Bambia was very beautiful and we went beside a rushing river and saw people fishing with giant butterfly like nets and a film show run by the Chinese about to start, watched by rows of Nepalese dressed up for the occasion. It was dark when we reached the village and ate fried egg and bread, sweet made from rice and flour and sweet tea. We prepared to sleep in the truck and had just settled when it started up again and sailed past the checkpoint and started off towards the Customs. We sat in the front and passed a checkpoint where we showed our passports after having a floodlight shone in our faces – we were allowed through and we arrived at the customs, navigating fallen rocks on the way. An uncomfortable night was spent on the rice sacks among people with hacking coughs. We drank some rice wine and it rained but we were dry under the tarpaulin. Yesterday we heard a cuckoo.
We woke at 6.30 and found ourselves overlooking a village of rude hovels and the customs point. We were allowed no further and waited till 8 for the truck to return from the border having unloaded the sacks. The river was rushing and icy cold and we have very sweet tea by the roadside. The journey back became increasingly tedious, constant stops which the driver drove a hard bargain with the peasants struggling along with all their possessions in giant baskets. Goats peed in the back of the truck and we had to get off the front at the various check points – we saw the Chinese setting up another entertainment and saw Chinese girls with short hair and baggy blue dungarees. Cloud obscured the mountain peaks and the last part of the journey was most uncomfortable sitting on the floor. We ate enormously in the Camp and walked round the town when dusk was falling – we saw an erotic carving and the Temple of the Living Goddess, a small girl is chosen to live in the Temple until the age of puberty – she is chosen from a High Priest’s family and is put in a room with lots of animal heads? We walked round a street crammed with tiny shops, very low ceilings and some have minute windows encrusted with carvings, we saw murderous knives, banana and pineapple wine, a yak less beautiful than ours and various stones – a huge topaz. N’s watch is being cleaned. The ? sit in tranquil groups in the square and have funny coats. Kathmandu is a town of varying shades of brown and white and the people dress in sombre colours although the shops sell bright materials. There are some antique looking carvings in the shops, probably not as old as they appear. Buffalo meat and omelette. We saw D.K and his girl friend, greatly cheered up, in his room.
My mother’s birthday. It rains all morning and afternoon. We wake at 12.30, eat buffalo steak, Nicholas has an argument about colonialism with an elderly American who knows a lot about stones. We walk around the town, visit the Blue Tibetan which has some way out people. We meet a very effeminate boy who gives us the idea of sending a musical instrument, sittar, for immense profit. An evening spent in a bad mood.
An extremely hot, sunny day. A very profitable morning is spent putting new batteries in the toys and swapping them for a large yellow topaz and tiny aquamarine. We rent bicycles in the afternoon to go out to Patan, we go to the Tibetan Refugee Camp and see men and women weaving carpets, sitting on the ground and singing and children sitting around. We saw some very heavy sweaters in nice colours and we bought two tiny yak animals and now we have six animals sitting in our suitcase and we are too much weighed down by them. They are all very furry. We saw an extraordinary sight, a tree on a cart and people climbing up and down it and a dog with a hole in its head with flies flying in and out poor thing. We saw some nice large buildings one being the Youth Hostel and we had lemonade. It was a very pleasant place, mountains in the background, large buildings and plenty of green everywhere. Patan itself is a lifeless brown little town. We toiled home in dust and heat, cars and buses running us off the road and bought gunja? off a little man wandering on the street with black dishevelled hair, he arrived at a most opportune time as we were furtively looking into the gov’t shop opposite the Blue Tibetan. We ate batter? Steak and D.K. bought my blue sweater to N’s annoyance for only $?, it is a relief to be rid of something. John, the boy from Birmingham makes quite funny wettish jokes constantly and has a fashionable John Lennon accent although he isn’t fashionable. He wears a pyjama jacket on top and has a hole between his legs. Ravi is one better than the Untouchables which is lowest caste of all. He is one higher and can have a roughish smile beneath his black moustache, ? to a glint. Two French boys were sitting talking and drawing Chinese characters and a stupid Aussie who is a ? besides. Opposite him was a nameless fellow, one of the bearded ones all identical. The boy who drives the bus sent a telegram to say he will arrive from New Delhi but doesn’t say when and how many people will be coming, this is most inconsiderate.
A day spent sitting in the Camp and wandering around the town, unsuccessfully trying to swap gym shoes for knife or thongs. The knives are impressive, curved, in leather cases with little knives attached outside. We visit the old palace and climb to the top on rickety old stairs, everything made of wood and have quite a good view of the mountains tho’ the top floor is enclosed. We look at the erotic carvings which are numerous and some quite complicated. It is a very hot sunny day – get very brief glimpses of the mountains. In the Camp we see a little Nepalese who has come out of the hills for the first time with two Peace Corps. Tibetan and Nepali children are bright and very attractive and tiny, the Tibetan boy who serves particularly so looking about 10 when he is 13. We eat our last buffalo steak, cake and custard and in the night hear P.K acting in an extraordinary way, perhaps it is our illusions?
We get on the same truck as a terrible Dane, quite elderly and shaves under his arms and irritates us all the way. I feel sick and it is an acutely dusty journey of 8 hours. We sit on mail bags, stop fairly frequently and arrive at ? about 5pm, unload the sacks, I am sick and we get dumped about 5 mins further on which infuriates the Dane who is extremely ill bred over a pony cart. We take a bicycle rickshaw to Raxaul station and are accosted by a fearsome Sikh, bearded and very tall who kept on poking me and we think is mad. We slept in the waiting room, 2nd class, quite comfortable free showers being an asset. A Peace Corp boy give N a mango and he sicks it up. Lots of bugs in the night.
India is as parched, dusty and unattractive as ever, blind beggars wail in the trains and there are terrible limbless people sitting on the stations and women and children in dirty rags. There are emaciated dogs, some legless, I don’t know how they go on living. I rest on the luggage racks for the first two train journeys, for one we travel 1st class which is full of middle class men in impeccable suits who look as if they would ask questions – their eyes fixed on one all the time. We waited five hrs in the large junction for the long train journey – we see a Marriage Party train and have a nice pot of tea. The sleeping coach is uncrowded. The country remains unchanging, dead flat and parched white. We see straw houses and a few cattle and goats. There are two ladies dressed all in black on the train; maybe they are going to cremate a relative.
We arrive in Benares after an uncrowded, reasonable night. I see a camel and everyone is having their morning shit by the railway line and it is as dried up and hot as ever and we are sweating though it is only 6am. We have breakfast and find the tourist bungalow being pestered by rickshaw drivers. It is very big and comparatively cool and though our water doesn’t work because of pressure we are quite happy and wash in buckets. N. has tummy upset and we rest all morning and have invalid’s lunch of tinned tomato soup and pud – lovely jelly and custard. We feel better and go off into the heat of the outside along to the station where under the auspices of the station master we find there no sleeping accommodation. We go off in a rickshaw to the middle of the town, all day they are a pest, badgering us for more money but are not too persistent. Constantly little men are coming up and offering to show us temples, etc saying it is their duty and there is nothing we can do but repulse them all. The heat is incredible, we feel weak, our hearts fluttering and try to fortify ourselves with soda and lime. The smell is remarkably foul, people pee everywhere and there are old people living on the street waiting to die, some in a long line with bowls being fed by little boys. Some of the men have long hair and are practically naked and they have probably come thousands of miles to die on the banks of the Ganges. We walk through tiny cobbled streets, people staring curiously at us and hire an immense rowing boat to take us past some of the ghats from the river there are steps leading up to temples which are too sacred for us to enter. We saw two corpses being burned up and sticks of firewood and piles of ashes and buffalos herds half submerged in the water and people swimming and washing clothes. The town itself is quite old. Few cars and hundreds of tiny shops selling material and ?des, specialising in ?? and goats meander everywhere and people pushing huge carts with crates on them. They sell very attractive water pots all different sizes of flower pot material. People drink tea out of tiny flower pots and throw them away. In the Tourist bungalow we meet an English boy who was bitten by a dog in Pakistan and is having 10 rabies injections. We eat a huge unwanted supper and have an extremely hot, agitated night. The fan made hot air
The stupid people forget our tea and we stand under the shower to get cool. N. has a vast breakfast and I have terrible ? We go to the station and achieve little, see three camels swaying down the street. The English boy having rabies injections has turned neurotic and the Danes? are very young, one wearing stupid pyjama trousers. Tomato soup and pudding for lunch. The afternoon is spent in the waiting room where we find John and the Scottish boy, John is not on very good form owing to dysentery. We catch the train which is far too short and completely packed, we stood in the third class sleeping coach and the ticket collector who is like H. Poirot got us two berths. We met an Indian with a nice face who got fearfully excited about us visiting his house, 40 miles north of Delhi for his relations wedding, an affair of great festivity which we will find an ordeal we expect. We ate with him off banana leaves and later on with an elderly couple, an Anglo Indian and his fat wife who were travelling with their servant, he washed dishes. They plied us with food, good curried pot and chapatis with mango jam to dip them in. they threw the remainder out of the window and we were instructed to suck the juice out of the mangoes. The lady put a vermillion mark on my forehead, the sign of marriage, also a streak along the parting. There is great formality involved in eating with Indians – women do not sit next to men. There was a blue turbaned Sikh who was fat and jolly. There was confusion over sleeping arrangement, N. left to sleep the other end of the coach with old men. I eventually went into the ladies compartment which is enclosed and filled with ladies and babies and they chattered far into the night. It was cool and rained in the early hours.
The old men in N’s region begin to hiss when I comb my hair near them and realise it is taboo to be in the area. We see flocks of camels grazing on the parched land and arrive at the junction at 6.15 and drink tea with the friendly Indian who is as pleased with us as he was the evening before and waved goodbye furiously. We catch the Agra train and travel 2nd class with a rather poisonous Indian who works in Hollywood for Columbia and earns ?550 per week. His father is a film director. We saw the enormous fort from the train and the tourist bungalow is next to the station and had a room. The dining room is dark and dingy. We are extremely upset when we find our poor bat has been left behind, KB is especially sorrowful. The lavatory smells but the water works. We take a very long rickshaw ride to the Taj about five miles. The part of the town we see is dusty and dirty, congested with buffalos, pony carts and rickshaws and trucks. The sky turned yellow and there was a mighty wind, this is a prelude to a monsoon. The Taj is certainly most impressive tho’ we fail to get the full impact due to our limited interest in architecture, also we saw it in a bright glare and it is very white. The design and carvings on the white marble are very beautiful and it is quite spooky inside with two coffins up and downstairs and the outlook is very attractive onto a wide river with trees and water buffalo. We saw two camels looking very gnarled and short of fur. The rest of the day is spent reading in our room in great heat. We are too exhausted and irritated by the Indians to do anything more energetic. We eat mutton roast for supper in an air-conditioned restaurant.
Another hot day and we catch the train for Delhi, an arduous journey in a crowded compartment reserved for the military – an official chap turned half the occupants out but we remained, listening to a squeaky violin and being stared at to the point of explosion. The country got greener and we arrived in New Delhi with great thirst and spent five hours attempting to find a place to stay, doing a round of the temples, the Hindu ones being entirely monstrous and pink and white. On the advice of an ex army major Sikh, British trained and with one of those fantastic British voices and expressions common to officers trained in the British army,, went to the station and had a retiring room for the night and we shared the room with an Indian boy and slept very poorly.
Exhaustion and great heat – we travel around in interminable cheating auto rickshaws visiting the British High Commission for a letter to enable us to stay in the Hindu temple. The Pakistan Embassy, was extremely uncivil. Our room in the temple is extremely bare and very hot. We wander around Connaught Circus looking in all the shops, changed money with a vile man who disparaged our gold. We were hot and exhausted and had various drinks and had supper at ?Wengean air-conditioned place where you get immense helpings and it is good meat. We meet an American and English girl and go back to our temple and sleep on the roof which is quite cool, a bit noisy. Delhi is much cleaner than any of the other Indian towns so far and is geared to the middle-class Indian. It is very spacious with parks and trees, the Govt buildings are made out of rather nasty brick coloured material. The Embassy area is miles away from the centre and we pay the earth on jolting auto rickshaws driven mostly by Sikhs. It appears to be a fairly dull town and we can raise little enthusiasm for anything except tomato omelettes and other food.
We visit the Afghanistan Consul and wait hours for him to appear – we met a fairly nice Indian working for Air India and the Afghans have hawk like faces and are very large with immense skirts flapping and curious pieces of cloth dangling off their heads. They look distinctive and independent. We go off to Kashmir Gate to buy a bus ticket, a long journey into Old Delhi and saw the huge red fort. It began raining on the way back and it brought the heat down considerably. We met the Indian who took us miles out to an old rounded tower built in the 12th century and it was very quiet and peaceful and we sat on the grass. We had an immense meal in the Tea House and bought a couple of books.
An extremely lazy day – we meet John and his red haired mate, a droning English boy and we read in the park and have tea and wander around and have supper. We are very pleased to be leaving tomorrow.
We manage to get up in time to catch the bus at 5.45 – catching a taxi, waking up a sleeping Sikh with no turban and hair tied up in a knot. The bus was full of middle-class people and in trepidation our luggage was put on top. The driver was a young Sikh and there were at least three people collecting money for luggage – we got out of Delhi very fast and tore along a straight road most of the way scattering people and animals. It got progressively hotter and we stopped at various towns, all dusty and hot and swarming with people and beggars – we drink delicious cold lassi out of a huge bottle. At about five we reached Kashmir and the country was greener and there were mountains in the distance and we crossed wide rushing rivers climbing very slightly to Jammu a pleasant town build on a hill cleaner than most and a little boy carried out luggage on his back to the Tourist Bungalow where we slept in the dormitory no beds and full of screaming horrid children. We ate vegetarian ? and foul tomato soup obviously straight out of the dreaded bottle which inevitably appears on every table with foul encrusted top. We find ourselves irritated by the slowness and inefficiency of service in restaurants – the trouble in India is that there are far too many people for the existing jobs, there is nothing for the uneducated Indian to do.
I am infuriated by the staring Indians and a man comes along while we are asleep saying it is time to get up in order to go in the opposite direction. We are furious and irritated by the dining room and people selling cold drinks. Our bus is fairly empty and immediately we begin climbing mountains, stopping at the beginning every 100 yards, it seemed. Again we were driven by a Sikh in a blue turban who had a dear little daughter with her hair tied up in a handkerchief. We saw a rushing mighty river and stopped for curry lunch, pot and tomato and very good beans. Later on we went thro’ an immense tunnel and got caught up in a convoy of army lorries – we saw lots of encampments, all tents. We reached the Vale of Kashmir and ate apples and greengages. The Vale is surrounded by mountains and is very fertile with the brilliant green rice fields and we saw hundreds of back-views picking it. There are apple orchards and villages and healthy ponies. The difference in people is amazing. Moslems are much fairer wearing Persian lamb fez type hats. Srinagar is a hill town reminiscent of Kathmandu, very old, brown houses of wood and stone and wooden bridges crossing the many rivers which are crammed with house boats, some luxurious for tourists and plainer ones for inhabitants. We were swept off by a little man who offered us a good rate 15/- for both of us with Indian meals and we live in real luxury with an English speaking affable bearer. We were shown great cordiality by the houseboat owner and were swept off to eat delicious chocolate cake and tea, we believe he is a con man, but manages to be quite pleasant.
Breakfast is onion omelette and Kashmiri bread which a fat small chapati. As we expected, the HB owner arrived to take us shopping, We drove around in great style, first to the Oriental Carpet Co where we were shown round by an educated Indian who had been in the Bucks and Ox Regiment. He exercised great charm, calling me Mrs H. in every sentence and showed us how the carpets are designed and how the weavers work by code? In families and how they take 6 months each carpet, a lie as we discovered later on. Families work on each one and the carpet we eventually put a deposit on was made by a bearded father and two small sons. We saw some beautiful Bokhara carpets at great price – classical designs in beautiful colours and we decided on one, the main colours turquoise and orange – it is 6’ X 4’. A hookah was brought in to be smoked, it has burning coals and steam and a long pipe which they smoke from. The chief man came along towards the end, he had an ebony cane and chanted loudly about the mysteries of carpets – he is going on a pilgrimage to Mecca. Next we were swept off to eat cream cakes, no doubt the HB man being impressed by the big expenditure and afterwards after much prevarication ordered a very golden topaz to be mounted in a ring. There was an abominable ? buying a lot of stones and cream cakes arrived. The afternoon was spent in finding a material and tailor. We got rid of the little man and walked over the bridge heavily guarded by the army. We walked along by the river on the other side, past poor house boats with goats and ponies and landed up in a ? part of the town alive with people and tongas and tiny shops. A Peace Corps boy visits us in the evening and there has been a feud between him and the HB owner and we have an embarrassing few moments.
My Aunt’s birthday. We are invited by the pressing invitation to visit papier mache factories and to sell our gold – a rich merchant arrives and wants to take it off to be investigated for purity. We escape and go off to Nekon Lake and hired a shikara for the afternoon, a most relaxing and comfortable experience after the bargaining was over which started a noisy argument. We lay on cushions and were paddled slowly along on still water with vast areas of immense red water lilies and we are given a lovely yellow one smelling of sherbet which closed up but opened the next day. The river seems shapeless and runs into big lakes and we paddled along narrow rivulets under tiny bridges. We saw people in shikaras carting great loads of stinking mud around and gorgeous flower boats. Nicholas was in extremis but relieved and we stopped on a bathing boat enclosed in a large lake and N swam and water skied successfully, breaking the rope once. We saw a Sikh wearing a red, feminine bathing hat – they look extraordinary without turbans. We continued along and saw lovely green poplar trees and the mountains in the distance and stopped at a floating restaurant and had tea, expensive. It really is magnificent scenery. We walked home and found the bearer in a very talkative mood, bringing pots of tea and showing us his gold watch. We are in such luxury in our HB and have usual dahl supper, spicy but not at all strong. The HB owner arrives and we spend a long time looking at letters of appreciation and hearing his good works. He has promised to make us a caramel custard. We go to bed at 2.45. Muslims have not got the ghastly complex of the Hindus and are continually trying to induce one to buy things but at the same time they are quite charming and amusing. They eat beef, not pork, however they do not eat beef in Kashmir but presumably they do in Pakistan.
We wake with slight sore throats as usual and the prevailing tiredness which comes from too soft a bed. My water lily came out nicely in the sun. Breakfast was fried eggs, mine tasting most peculiar, of petrol or something. I bought cherries from a shikara outside the window. We found the bus which left at 1.15, a dirty old thing and we were pestered by begging women and children and sat next to a rich honeymoon couple. We didn’t climb until the end of the 20 mile journey and poor geese twitching in the road had been run over by a car which practically ran into us – their throats were cut and we continued on our way and got deeper into the mountains which are mostly covered in pine. The end of the line is a small village with lots of ponies ready for riding and after much discussion we hired the services of a mischievous little guide, very small and brown, Guide No 1 and we took ponies up to a Moslem mosque which is visited by Hindus and Sikhs they say. The ride was nice, the ponies little but quite willing and their owners beat them on their hind quarters to make them trot which they do not like, preferring a fast walk. N rode a grey pony and mine was chestnut and the scenery was nice, pine forest. We met several ponies coming down, also Indian women being carried in litters. The temple is on the side of the hill overlooking the Kashmir valley ? 16 thousand ft, mountains the other side and there is a giant lake. Cloud spoilt the view, but cleared later on. It is very attractive up here, there are several two storey rest houses and the mosque, a gaudy affair containing the coffin after which this village is named. The people up here are very colourful and some extremely pale children, some with almost red cheeks. Everyone was cooking and washing and we drank Persian tea from a huge metal pot – it is very milky and nice. Our guide is like the HB owner, full of guile and even wanting to send us walnuts to England and discouraging us to buy our carpet and again we are showed appreciative letters from customers. It is a cheap life up here as the night is free, allegedly we are having delicious supper but it has not appeared and we are sitting quite cold in a corner of our room, thunder and lightening outside and Nicholas is sitting looking nameless in a trench coat. There are walnut and willow trees here which the animals eat.. Cheetah, deer and black bear in the hills but they are not frequently seen. The wireless programme is relayed by loudspeaker and we have seen someone cutting up a chicken, we hope for our supper, dogs gobbled the feathers and there is a dog with half ears. It snows from Nov to March and the animals eat dry grass and maize. So many Indian wear pyjamas, our guide had them under his trousers. I fear we will have no supper and go sadly to bed. Outside it is raining. We are very hungry. But it is better then staying in the Tourist Bungalow for 6/- a room. Our altitude is 7 thousand feet and Gulmarg is 8 thousand. It now feels extremely wintry and we are a bit mournful. Our Guide shows signs of sleep. We had just covered ourselves up when dinner was brought a colossal bowl of rice, dahl, quite hot and chicken. We ate to repletion and after a discourse on Mohammedan marriage went to sleep, very warm.
We were wakened with Persian tea, chapatis and very rich butter and set off for Gulmarg which owing to constant exaggeration is not as far as 2 ½ miles, it is quite steep. Gulmarg is small and on hills, little wooden houses, the Tourist Hotel looking like a Bavarian Castle. It was cold and deserted and we had tea and acquired a tobogganer man and through him and his alleged brother had great trouble. The walk to the settlement of tents was over a golf course and through a stony pine forest. On top the view is superb tho’ it was not perfectly clear. We met an English honeymoon couple and saw eagles with an enormous wing span overhead. They pick up small lambs and poor rabbits. We had tea and started an extremely exhausting climb to the snowfield, in a gully, and beyond. There are gorgeous wild flowers, the ones we recognised being a form of pale purple rhododendron and gentians, also a large yellow flower on a bush and tiny white flowers with yellow centres which grow close to the ground. It became very squelchy and impossible to walk in thongs – we were caught up by a voluble Indian and reach nearly the top and had a terrifying experience (for me) on the toboggan which is too small for three and after gathering speed we capsized and were dragged for what seemed many yards. Eventually N went down to the bottom and N waited while I came down in trepidation, very fast. After another argument, the toboggan driver went away and we started on the long trek down, not stopping for refreshment and getting lost in the pine woods seeing immense blue periwinkle like flowers and came upon a Sikh regiment in a lovely wooden house, the soldiers were sucking their lunch off plates and set us on our way. We saw black furry sheep on the golf course and Indians on ponies, their owners hanging onto their tails. We arrived in Talmarg after 3.30, having walked down an extremely precipitous mountain, walking sideways and using the pine tree roots as steps. We walked in front of a nice Sikh family, the wife wearing dress and trousers which is contrary to their belief, the women wear saris when they are married we think. We spend an hour in the tourist restaurant amid clouds of flies waiting for the honeymoon couple who offered to take us in their taxi. Tension mounts at five when they haven’t turned up, we buy a kilo of walnuts and they arrive – it is extremely luxurious riding in the taxi. We find a dreary English boy and a nice American girl staying at the house for 50 rp a night each – in the evening we visit a fur shop with Ahmed and try on masses of animal skins.
An extremely lazy day, toast for breakfast. I sleep all morning and we drink lassi, an enormous jug of it. We spend the afternoon changing money over which Ahmed has been a nuisance, collect the topaz and dress which is a joke and buy a dear little flowered orange and black box from the Govt Emp. We eat cream cakes in the Grand Hotel.
A day spent very peacefully on a shikara – we went to the same man as before who was very affable and we had a different shikara, this time with a little boy and again we had a very pleasant time looking at the mountains and I was given a giant pink water lily in a leaf – we swam and N water skied and we ate masses and masses of fruit, plums cherries and walnuts at great expense – Kashmir is a perfect place for a honeymoon we have decided, perhaps Jill will come here for hers. The lights went off for a very long time in the evening and a ? missionary arrived, a ? Amhed has got quite a funny laugh.
We feel liverish and seedy most of the day. N is improved by water skiing. A very hot day – we leave tomorrow and dread the great heat of Jammu
The bearer cooks breakfast and we catch the bus, the Tourist Centre is a muddle of people and buses and we have seats right in the back meaning we had an excessively uncomfortable journey. We bounced along and my sore from falling off the toboggan hurt enormously. We stopped for tea at the place selling boxes of apples and we had tea, everyone else eating omelettes with their fingers. The bus was full of people obviously finishing their holidays, driven as usual by a Sikh. We started climbing the mountains, getting held up behind army convoys and trucks. It was dusty and hot and we found it very tedious and had veg curry in the same place – we reached Jammu at 8 and it was much cooler – a wind and later on great forks of lightening ? up the clouds. The monsoon must be expected very shortly. The people though were as aggravating as ever – our resolution was broken when an Indian in the Tourist place constantly interrupted us and looked very mortified when we shouted at the poor man. The dormitory was extremely full by the time we went to bed, full of men and it was hard to go to sleep. We slept in the corner underneath a fan. Indians sleep on expensive looking things which carry their clothes as well and look extremely comfortable. They wear extraordinary knickers, pieces of white material wrapped around. Sikhs don’t sleep in the dormitory.
After some perplection we catch a bus for Pathankot, sleeping some of the way. We arrived amid great heat, people and that singular smell, rotting fruit and drains I think. Little boys tried to carry our luggage and without much delay we caught a bus for Firozpur. It was driven by Sikhs who looked after us very nicely, we had front seats which meant it was hot because of the engine and oil splashed all over our feet. It got extremely crowded and stopped frequently. The road was straight, littered with people, donkeys and water buffalos and we hit a cow, not seriously. The country for India was quite green, quite tropical some of the way with coconut trees. We stopped half an hour in Amritsar, the headquarters of the Sikhs where they have their famous golden temple which we didn’t see. The boys, before they start wearing turbans look very feminine, wearing their hair tied in a knot on top of their head. We reached Firozpur at five feeling very sticky and the land on the way got sparser and drier. We stayed at a little hotel in the town in a funny room, excellent service, iced water, supper in our room. It did not amount to much as we were short of money – hot pieces of mutton and chapatis. We slept very early.
We catch a bus for the border, having delicious tea out of a pot beforehand and the bus drives round to the station and waits before starting – the border seems in complete desolation, the Indian side being very slow and when we crossed over to the Pakistan side, great interest was shown in our umbrella. After deliberation, we share a tonga to the town ten miles away, pulled by a labouring horse, slower and slower and we saw beautiful kingfisher blue birds and one striped one with an orange crest. Everything is very M Eastern – white desert land and camels, fleets of donkeys carrying huge sacks and women in purdah. Water buffalos are numerous and pull enormous pieces of canvas packed with hay and looking like walking haystacks. Some of the people are very fair and they have hookahs which they bring into buses and puff on. They sell mangoes and plums which seems incredible as the land does not look fertile enough to produce them. There are curious woolly spotted goats and sheep and people live in strange rounded tents. The bus to Lahore gets excessively crowded and we drive miles round the city before arriving at the bus station. Immediately we find a bus for Rawalpindi and sit in front of a woman with a raucous voice. The bus tears along, overtaking at great peril and we are fortunate not to be in front or it would be frightening. We stop seldom and are brought tea and cakes by the bus helper who is very sinister in black. We think the Pakistanis are nicer then the Indians, friendlier without the same curiosity. We see two English cars and come into really barren country, great crags and nothing living and we climb a few hills and see small groups of camels, one with a net over its nose to stop it biting. We are very concerned over our luggage but it turns up at the end. We see lots of factories on the way and it seems cleaner than India. Of course it is not so overcrowded having 100 mill people and India has 500 mill. We arrive in ’Pindi, a mass of people, tongas, buses and people eating. We get a very old man and pony to the railway station where we pass the night in tolerable comfort in the 2nd class gents waiting room, having dinner in a very old fashioned restaurant with an extremely elderly gentleman serving us – expensive mutton curry and custard pud and sickly mango juice. The people of importance in the restaurant wear extremely impressive headgear, a sort of turban with a large piece of material sticking up – the traffic policemen wear the same kind of thing, usually red and blue, as they do in India. Pakistan seems more British then India and so far is more pleasant. There is a mad old lady in the waiting room.
We catch our train which is an extremely comfortable rail car and we sit in the back looking out. The country gets very craggy and we cross the Indus and see a town built out of rock right up on a hill and have tea in two little pots which makes us sweat and we get hotter and hotter. The track is single most of the way and we wait at stations for trains to pass. There is little sign of life along the way, a few men working on the line, donkeys and goats. With luck we will get to Kabul today. The people in our train are very middle class and the women wear pieces of cloth over their heads very few of the peasant people in Pakistan are bareheaded, they tie dirty material round. They obviously like ornamentation – the trucks are very gaudy inside and out and the women paint their toenails and wear bright lipstick and it is surprising for a Muslim country. They don’t seem to wear pigtails like the Indians which is a change. We arrive at 10.45 and get a very old gentleman to open the ladies lavatory and we get a bus to a town five miles to the border – the Pathans are very singular looking people, they carry guns and ammunition and are dressed peculiarly in waistcoats and funny straw hats with material tied round. They live in the hills near the border and have big beards and shaved heads and are friendly, we had a free ride on a curious truck to the border and were given green tea (from a Lipton packet) and arrived at the border after climbing up and down steep hills past lots of forts built by whom we do not know. We saw a poor horse at the border with a terrible misshapen foot it was standing patiently beneath a tree asleep. The Afghans were quite friendly at the border and the customs men fixed us up with a ride to Kabul on top of a water melon lorry – it was alarmingly hot with wind like an oven and we sailed along, through real desert mountainous in parts past a river the colour of jade, ?? and we saw two dams one built by Americans one by Russians. We went thro’ one town, very dusty, full of donkeys and people in Middle Eastern robes, flat turbans on their heads and unloaded a box of plums. We stopped frequently to fill the radiator and we had delicious chapati and meat gravy and onion under trees and milky tea – we were constantly overtaking and being overtaken by a Mercedes carrying two fat German ?s who ignored us when eating supper. The boys on the truck grew flirtatious and tiresome and I grew exhausted by the time darkness fell – we climbed endlessly slower and slower thro’ gorges, towards and over hills and stopped for the driver and his mate to prostrate themselves saying prayers at sundown and on we climbed grinding up the hills till eventually we reached the plateau Kabul is on and it was deliciously cool. We were unloaded at the corner of the town and were struck by the idiocy of the truck crew who obviously knew we had no idea of which direction to walk – we found a hotel and were quite exhausted and sank onto our beds in a very hot cell like little room, quite clean.
We woke late amid great dirt and heat and the showers were ice cold. Kabul was clear and sunny and we had a large meal at great expense in the Khyber Restaurant which is an antiseptic bourgeois place with coloured lights in the windows and good food, apricot pie, very succulent for 12 cents and buttermilk. There are respectable looking Europeans who have arrived in cars. Many are trying to sell them and comparatively few hitchhikers. We meet the Canadian boy we last saw in Vientiane and a nice Rhodesian who is driving a land rover for Trans Continental Tours. The afternoon is spent walking round the bazaar and money changers. Kabul is surrounded by mountains and is a country town full of strange people in ragged robes and Persian lamb hats. They are tall and have quite red faces and have donkey fruit carts with split nostrils. There are a surprising amount of well dressed Afghans in suites, quite smooth and obviously have the Middle Eastern attitude toward Western women, they have glossy black hair and some are handsome. Few of the women wear Western clothes and thick stockings. The streets are wide and spacious and there are inefficient police in Russian type uniform. The city is empty with several modern hotels and other buildings. There is a blue and white mosque, obviously very new and an old white one in the park where people eat meals and sell fruit – wonderful grapes and plums and cherries and apricots. The shops aren’t very exciting, the Afghan coats course and smelly, they have lovely furry hats and gloves. The Bazaar sells different kinds of tea in massive baskets and materials and there are shops with masses of electrical equipment. The money changers became quite trying and we leave one with great ill feeling, they are all circuitous and one spends hours sitting in their shops. Dust flies around the streets and it is quite hot in the middle of the day, woolly goats live in the middle of the town and sheep. It is quite a clean place and have seen no sign of the seven years shit so often talked about.
The water was off in our hotel. We spend a day wandering around, to the Tourist Bureau and to the British Embassy, which is closed. We eat grapes and apples and read in the USIS and walk round the money changers again. We feel quite bored in the evening, there isn’t much to do – we drink buttermilk, eat meat and spinach in our restaurant and wander around in the dark. As it is a Mohammedan country, very little happens in the evenings, the films are dubbed, 90% of the women are in purdah.
We go to the British Embassy who are amazingly incompetent and fail to give us any information on African countries. We go by bus which is crowded and the men stink of animal shit and push. The British Embassy is big and white and silent and we talk to a really silly female. It gets quite hot in the middle of the day. It is only 6,000 ft up, some of the mountains have snow and there are sandy coloured houses up the mountain-side. Our restaurant has a good atmosphere, very noisy with ancient records of which there are only about three, it is all male and they sit cross-legged on chairs and eat with their fingers, food of little variation, rice mixed with raisins, spinach and meat and very heavy chapati like bread and ice cream sticking up in points. They drink tea, in individual pots with lots of sugar. We discover too late excellent kebab is cooked downstairs, on skewers. We are very bored in the afternoon. I find Kabul quite dull in spite of its Middle Eastern flavour. The donkeys are very numerous and attractive standing with huge baskets of fruit all day, their nostrils are slit and sometimes their ears have been cut half off. We eat masses of fruit, grapes and plums.
My birthday. We buy a fox furry hat for my sister, two pairs of yellow gloves with fur on the ends and N a suede, furry wool coat, extremely impressive and with a strong uncured smell. We are very excited about this in spite of having to carry it to Bombay and send it home. The collar has a very tatty appearance. We have coffee in the Spinoza Hotel at great expense and the rest of the day is spent failing to change money in the Bazaar and we have a dire enemy who follows us around and puts people off selling money at a good rate. We are very angry and go to the bank who proved ? incompetent over the next 18 hours. We celebrate my birthday with a bottle of beer and doubly big pieces of really delicious apricot pie. We are getting very impatient to leave but cannot do so in the morning because of money matters. Generally Afghans are as stupid as a herd of ? but unlike the Indians respect ones privacy.
A fruitless morning spent in the Foreign Exchange Dept of the bank, they are all liars and the only benefit we get out of the proceedings is travellers cheques, cashed free and tea with the Sec to the President who is a very placating lady. We leave in an atmosphere of mutual hate and later on in the day the boy from Gerrards Cross changes £150 for 11.50 and we are satisfied and N eats hugely of ice creams and we have kebab wrapped in bread which tastes smoky and delicious. We are pleased to be leaving in the morning. Afghans, the peasants anyway, have curiously wooden stupid faces. They walk slap into you in the street.
Our bus leaves at 7 am full of Europeans and it is a tolerably comfortable journey unlike the previous one. We hurry down the hills and it gets hot at the border, we are missing exit forms but it doesn’t matter much. We sit in comfortable chairs in a cool room and there is an Australian, as usual touchy about Australia. We take ages at the Pakistan border and it gets cooler and we climb over the Kyber Pass which again fails to impress in spite of the massive fort built on top, presumably by the British in 1918. We arrive in Peshawar and catch a Govt bus to Rawalpindi. We travel in great comfort and have a moderately quick journey – we cross the Indus again and stop for lovely milky sweet tea. We are revolted by the unpleasant habits of the Pakistanis. The women are the dirtiest in lavatories and shit anywhere but the proper place and the clearing of throats and spitting in close proximity never fails to repel, it is not surprising these people are not welcomed in the UK, for their bad habits alone, the Pakistanis are generally more civil and helpful than Indians though irritating. We spend the night on Rawalpindi station with little sleep, bed bugs and a constantly staring man in bright pyjamas - an old gentleman produces a wooden board on which he conducts his prayers for at least two hours. We are woken by the inspector who is irritating over our tickets. We have tea and buns for supper.
We catch the railcar at 5.35 and have a tedious but comfortable journey to Lahore, eating omelette, toast and tea at great expense. The country was surprisingly fertile and we saw water buffalo submerged in mud and a couple of camels, donkeys. It is hot in Lahore and N goes off to see about permit for Pakistan, I sit on the station in immense heat annoyed firstly by a man who tells me my skirt is too short and secondly by some fool who insists on sweeping unnecessarily round my toes and of course people are staring and it gets hotter all the time. Nicholas arrived in immense sweat, having got the road permit under great frustration and we met a naval officer who insisted on taking our picture, us carrying all our junk and drove us to catch the bus to ?Kasan which was a very hot journey, all our junk on top of us and constantly stopping. We had a very traumatic afternoon, quarrelling needlessly with tongas, we were soothed by cups of tea in the bus depot but at 5.00 our promised bus did not arrive and we were surrounded by gawking boys enraging us. A fair Belgian boy arrived and a cop with a calm, humorous face and a bus arrived specially for us, the 7 miles to the frontier seemed endless and we were whisked thro’ both sides at great speed – the Indians losing their heads completely one minute after 7 pm and turned the Belgian boy back to Rawalpindi to get his visa, there was much shouting and he looked very forlorn walking back to the Pakistan side. We arrived at Firozpur station at dusk, there was a power failure and we managed to get on the Bombay mail train, we flitted from 3rd to 2nd and spent a comfortable night in which we were destined to spend the next 2 days – at that time it was empty and a nice Indian lady gave us food, delicious peaches, we were starving and the lights kept flickering on and off.
It was raining in Delhi and we were quite glad not to get out. There was an exodus of people into our carriage and we managed to retain our sleeping arrangements. We drank expresso coffee and waited 1 ½ hrs in Old Delhi. The day was spent in sleeping, eating very little, the effort of getting off the train being too great and it was a great relief to be safe on the luggage racks with people swarming underneath with their tin trunks and huge rolls of bedding. We stopped in Agra and later the country got nice and green and leafy, all mostly cultivated. It had obviously been raining and there were puddles and rivers and water buffalos. We didn’t look out very much, sleeping most of the time. The darkness arrived and we ate ? and drank dried milk tea and stopped at several large stations in the night causing interrupted sleep. The people in our compartment were surprisingly well behaved, asking no questions. Soot flew in on my sleeping bag.
We have tea and a box of biscuits and it rains and the fields are very green and small and our compartment gets very empty. We arrive in Bombay in rain and go to the Salvation Army where we sleep in an immense room with bathroom. We like Bombay, it is very British, Victorian buildings, lots of green leafy pavements, red double decker buses and is not unduly crowded. The waterfront, Marine Parade, is very attractive, a large bay reminiscent of Copacabana. There are huge expensive, tho’ rather decayed seeming buildings on the water’s edge, lived in by the British we presume. There are various Victorian monuments and fountains scattered around wide streets with lots of yellow roofed taxis and the people are very middle class and prosperous – few beggars and ragged people. The Salvation Army produces abominable English food, boiled potatoes, dry and flabby and terrible tasting tea. The toast and jam is the best part. The people staying here are YMCA types, some Germans shipping a car to Mombasa and we get most excited by the Kampala leaving on 25th. A very ? ? collection.
We hurry down to British India where are hopes are doomed by a rule forbidding European women to travel bunk class. We talk to a nice, quite important English man but no success. It upsets us very much and we visit various agents with nothing to show for it - ?SCI remain our best hope, sailing Aug ?. The shipping offices are all near Alexandra Dock in large old buildings and boys on the street sell squashed lemon drink. We go home for lunch and set off again, walking a long way and saw a demonstration in the street. We have great ideas of going to Djibouti and travelling thro’ Ethiopia, later we are told it is impossible. We are exhausted and return for tea.
We visit a shipping line in the morning and the day is spent walking round Alexandria Dock which is full of boats. We meet a very civil purser on an English boat and a Greek engineer with a potentially handsome face, very expressive as all Greeks are and later on we met him and he took us off by taxi to have expresso coffee in a international sort of coffee bar, not the sort of thing you expect in India. We walked along the Marine Parade which is really nice and it got dark and we walked through a park enclosing cows on the way back to the Salvation Army. An evening spent reading.
The Salvation Army suddenly got drearier, a family of missionaries, fair pallid daughters, the Canadian who has been in a mental home, a few YMCA type boys. We feel tired, have horrible coffee and set out for another day on the docks – we walk down an endless street, eventually find the entrance, drink strong coffee and pink jelly drink, on a Greek boat, the Captain finally proving unhelpful and we find another Greek boat very ? and dirty, chartered by B. I. with a young captain who is very friendly and says he wants our company. We became very jubilant, determined to get a cheap price from ? B.I. and go home, a dull evening reading, to hymns.
We wait a long time for ?s, a big very educated Indian who proves excessively unhelpful and quotes a very high price – the permanently worried, Anglo Indian downstairs gets us a ten pound reduction and we decide to go. The rest of the day is busy, spent deceiving the Reserve Bank of India, buying an airline ticket to Addis Abba from a very ? chap in Cooks. We buy lots of things including a skirt for me which is too hot. An evening spent writing endless letters. It is extremely hot and sticky and N does up the big parcel.
The man from B I rings up and has bad news – the Greek capt has refused to take us, we are thrown into confusion and decide to go economy class on the Kampala, £30 more expensive, very depressing but it is no good getting too unhappy. We have our parcel sewn up and catch the boat – our cabin is very clean and has a porthole. The food is not very good and poor service but people are very civil. The cabin class has a few Europeans, we ought to cultivate them and there is an Australian and English couple travelling in our class. At the time of writing the sea is getting continually rougher – we hope not to be sick.
All these days have been spent in great laziness, eating and sleeping and drinking gin and beer. There is little else to do. There are only six Europeans in economy class – an Australian teacher, a young English couple, a silent Beatle type either stupid or intense and a lively girl and an English boy called Jay, son of an Oxford professor and good company and works in oil on boats going round oil rigs at sea, he is living ? and high and really quite charming in a faintly boring way – he has strange words like “nondos”, “WTS?”. We spend quite a lot of time drinking with him. N’s mostly being a teetotaller – gin is 1/6 and so is beer. The Australian boy is very silent though nice – we read from the library which has old fashioned books. The band plays sporadically, and the Indians sit around in chairs in immaculate shirts, the women sitting mostly downstairs, the children run around with horrid popping guns bought from the shop, We have early morning tea, too sweet and our cabin is very clean, painted in 3.67 and it is quite hot down there, we sweat clammily though our porthole is open. Our steward is Goanese and puts KB in undignified positions for a bear of his age. We eat enormously and feel overfull all day, our waiter being not too co-operative and we wait too long at breakfast for toast and marmalade, etc. The food is really quite bad, masses of boiled soggy potatoes, likewise cabbage. The have nice puddings, lots of custards. The ship’s cat lives in a cupboard in the dining room, he is very independent coming out at night stalking the deck and passages. Our cabin is very near the kitchen and next to a store cupboard which is full of tinned food, it is locked however. The first two days are spent in our cabin though we manage all meals, it is quite rough and the dining room is deserted. The band plays on the top deck half an hour at a time and has a limited repertoire; they play quit well. We read a great deal and drink with Jay until we arrive in the Seychelles where we are quite unhappy because we are not allowed off – we drop anchor about 2.30 and stay till 6.30 and it looks very beautiful rather like Pago Pago, but not so impressive – beautiful yellow sand with coconut palms and we saw the American tracking station on top of one of the hills, it looks like a mosque on a mushroom.
We spent the afternoon watching people come on and off in launches, we saw very “picturesque” African type boatmen with yellow boaters and white naval shirts and poles? Lots of new cabin class passengers arrived, American families, one Rev. and a doggy lady with two lemon Labradors and some quite Kenyan like people but we haven’t got to know anyone in the cabin class except a very bumptious Indian boy with a round mischievous face who lives in Tanzania and a Peace Corps boy called Joe from Afghanistan. The German boys in the deck class remain fairly aloof, one is very shy and the other talks. I don’t think we will get a lift to Nairobi. Nicholas has at last had his hair cut and so have I, by a little old barber who was very slow and quite good. He was most cautious over mine. There is a film every evening, some in Hindi, tho’ the sound is bad. We watched an excessively bad American film. We met an Australian who is starting crayfish fishing in the Seychelles, he is going to Mombasa to find a boat and it sounds a very interesting project, they are taken in refrigeration all the way to the States. There was an incident in the dining room the evening we left the Seychelles – a two thirds drunk from Mississippi arrived at our table and was quite annoying to begin with – he was extremely objectionable to our steward who was being exceedingly slow in getting him a cup of coffee and the Mississippi boy we later learned his is called Shelby Tucker grabbed him round the neck and he nearly fought Nicholas – it was quite dramatic and the waiters gathered round and there was much hissing and a complaint was made to the Welfare Officer by Shelby Tucker who says he is 34 and have moved up to cabin class in consequence. We had a horse race the second to last night and the officer who has a stomach like Billy Bunter had been flogging tickets 5/- each and it was a great event taking a long time over the betting – we lost money and our races – the Captain watching in obvious boredom. The officers are all monstrously fat and look disgusting with their cummerbunds straining round their stomachs. The purser, an Indian is really nice and a little old lady gave away the prizes. Travel Scrabble and ridiculous little cups. The boy Roger? Has become loquacious and his quite way-out ? and we have had long dissertations, at meal times on Australian animals and his journeys, he is an avid sightseer? and has hundreds of contacts. The children on the boat are very noisy and play all day on the swings and roundabout. There is a very spoilt boy in our dining room, he screams all meal times and his mother is loud voiced and hopeless – most of the Indian passengers speak English – lots of the girls wear European dresses and look studious with spectacles. The day after we left the Seychelles the weather was beautiful and the sea very calm and blue. Last night we saw a boat ?ing along. This is really a ghastly boat, very poor service it is a subsidiary of P and O and is now declining. At the moment we are being caught up by a storm. We have thrown our gunga overboard and Ns Samoan shirt has been committed to the watery deep. We will spend one night in Mombasa which is full of Indians.
Nicholas wakes feeling ill and shivery and in the course of the morning visits the dr who is perfunctory and prescribes powders. He rests until we get off the boat at 5.00. I spend the day wandering around and Shelby Tucker is quite extraordinary and loopy I am sure. There are endless lines going through immigration and we sit in the 1st class and there is a Frenchman taking films of rare blood drinking tribes in N. Kenya. We have tea and the ship’s cat parades around the dining room. There is an immensely rich German on board going on safari getting preferential treatment from the very British agent. We raced through Customs and saw Shelby Tucker looking outrageous . We drove off in a ? old taxi, it first refused to start, driven by a fat African and when we arrived at the New Bristol Hotel ten minutes was spent in getting the boot open. It is obviously a place for W.T.s [world travellers], a loud juke box, upstairs is very clean and costs 15/- per night. We walk round Mombasa and we are quite surprised at its cleanliness and tidiness, it is extremely green and it was quite empty, the shops being empty and the streets. Of course there are myriads of Indians around, they are better behaved here and we have Indian supper served by a jolly African. We haven’t come across any aggressiveness yet, toward the edge of the town it became more lively and the ladies wear fantastically bright colours – they drink black liquid from tiny cups on the street and eat things over embers and we saw a beautiful orange sky with palm trees. The gas stations are very smart, run by Indians and the buses to Nairobi look unexpectedly comfortable. Haven’t seen one deux chevaux The shops have nice things, chemists particularly and tomorrow we will buy N his khaki shorts. He is feeling much better now and is in bed. We have bought a new basket so far without character and deceptively small inside. N saw a Mao Tse-tung badge and Robert ? ? The chapati was good and there was a pretty white cat asleep in a corner. Roger is rather stupid at times. The P.C boy looks quite like Albert and is very nice.
The breakfast was brought in by a very cheery boy and we had delicious coffee and eggs, most luxurious in our room. We spend the day mildly investigating cars – relying on Roger on abundant information on cheap cars recommended by the AA. By evening we are quite excited over a Simca, close to us, the owner, an Indian with a shop called “Love and Joy”. We exhaust ourselves walking and our impression of Mombasa remains – all very clean and orderly The people, Indians included, courteous and very civil, people stop at zebra crossings and stare little. We see many Europeans - some obviously immensely rich, Italian, German and Swiss, no doubt and obviously there are lots of whites resident here, even tho’ one is surprised to find so many. They sit in the expensive coffee shops and restaurants and there are lots of imported dress shops too. We walk on the very edge of the old African town Before we leave it must be explored further. We eat bread and cheese in ? Park - a slightly vulgar fountain and masses of purple bougainvillea bushy and wild orange coloured trees. The Bazaar is very gay with masses of clothes, some lying on the ground waiting to be sold. N bought khaki shorts in an Indian shop. There are fruit stalls selling pineapple and rather dried up oranges and carvings , lovely spotted giraffes and rhinos with monstrous long horns. Walked on the grass in the Uhuru park and was shouted at in Swahili by a extremely furious park keeper and it was not very nice. People don’t stare here . We saw some very flamboyant ladies buying sun glasses and straw hats and one is reminded of Nina. A dull evening is spent in the company of Roger, we walk around looking vainly for a cheap restaurant and the conversation is mainly on Australian convicts. I feel incipiently unwell. Camels used to walk along the old part of Mombasa. The materials the fat ladies wear is incredibly vivid , lots are just wrapped in it. The men wear much patched khaki shorts and some of the people are incredibly tall and carry baskets on their heads in a much more striking way than the Asians as their ?s are ? prominent. There are some crippled beggars on the street.
We pack both baskets and the day is spent testing the Simca which is in quite good condition needing minor repairs – later in the day, N bought it for £65 from its incredibly smooth owner who seemed to have little interest in it. The AA man is tremendously helpful and hope not in league. Roger seems very happy with prospects of the VW and again we had supper with him. In the morning we drove down to the ocean which looks lovely though today is quite wintry. We look forward to spending a few days snorkelling if possible. The Simca has reclining seats, a tremendous asset.
[5th to 13th is in Nicholas’ handwriting]
It is a very cold grey day and I feel very grey inside accompanied by Roger who irritates us and is wearing his fantastically enormous rucksack. We set off hitchhiking toward the youth hostel. We walk quite a long way out of the town and are passed by lots of cars. Roger sits under a tree by the bridge. A nice white family from Nairobi give us our longest lift which takes us right down to the hostel along a very bumpy road past the Whispering Palms Hotel. It is in the middle of many palm trees and when we arrive we find lots of little boys scurrying wearing red tops and blue shorts and we find they are scouts and they have been picked off the streets of Mombasa and Nairobi living out of dustbins and the scoutmaster is a boy from Wiltshire called Keith who is very nice and talks a lot. I feel really ill and sleep in my sleeping bag outside before moving into the dormitories where I remain for the next several days.
Sarah stays in bed. The 3 medical students diagnosed conjunctivitis just as they were leaving so Keith puts lots of penicillin ointment into Sarah eyes. Sarah slept most of the time and wouldn’t eat much. A teacher from the Congo on a scooter claiming to be British came and went and also several VSO and Canadian Voluntary Service people. The latter didn’t like the New Bristol where the tourist office had sent them on our recommendation. Scouts cooked bulgar (US surplus wheat), rice and fish and towards the end usually gave me some to eat. Otherwise cooked beans and corned beef with Keith and the Danish volunteer, John. Medical students showed themselves rather better at singing then me at the camp fire on the first night tho’ Roger was best, leading the weakest group of scouts for the rounds songs. Archbishop of East Africa took the boys service on Sunday before we were up. Roger left to pick up his car and returned with it on Thursday.
It was a very bright sunny day and I was iller with a rash so the silly boy from Uganda who cleaned his car with my sponge took me in his car with the Canadian couple to the hospital. N stayed behind and walked on the reef and cut his foot. We arrived in Mombasa and it was discovered I had measles after much fussation and was sent in an ambulance to the fever hospital which is a very pretty place with pretty bushes overlooking the river. I was put into a private room which distressed me – very comfortable. N rang up without making any headway.
I hitched into Mombasa with difficulty and eventually reached the hospital. Talked to a bearded Indian administrator who showed me the public wards where Sarah intends to go. I (Sarah) sleep a lot and try to eat soup. The cook asks me what to eat, stay in the private ward all day. N picks up the car in the afternoon and goes back to the Youth Hostel with Roger behind. Hostel empty except for the fat German lady.
I was moved to public ward. N drove to hospital and helped eat lunch afterwards taking the car to have its generator looked at. Generator temporarily only mended, the mechanic showing very little interest. N ate chips at Copper Kettle again and tried to find Canadians at Rex Hotel for 10/- owed.
Hotel full as usual with someone on floor. Indian keeps on changing beds when people leave and leaves a lot of cigarette stubs on the floor. Collect letter at GPO from Bucks CC sending a driving license form. Visit Sarah and write letters to Mrs N and Jill having much difficulty with latter. Helped eat Sarah’s lunch. Went to mechanic in afternoon and waited while lock was put on and cleaned inside, also bought a jack. Mechanic generously says he won’t charge for mending the generator yesterday which he didn’t do. Ate at Blue Room and read book. Got good bulb put into hotel room. Left note at Rex Hotel re 10/-.
Read when I woke up while it rained. Had coffee at Copper Kettle and spent 6 hours at hospital, reading and catching up this diary. Ate Sarah’s lunch as usual. Went through ?s in AA touring guide. Drove back and had to change windscreen wiper since driver’s side broke. Drove down to docks but couldn’t get generator to work. Got stopped by African cop in morning but managed to confuse him about license. Light not as good tonight. Went to eat in Blue room again, more chips and read. Walked a little and picked up note re 10/-at Rex and read in bed.
Two more monotonous days. N arrives mid-morning, in time for lunch. It is the wettest Aug in Mombasa and rain thunders down at intervals. We are longing for me to be let out, can’t wait to be off. My eye still feels bleary and they ache to read. Nicholas is also very bored, he eats too many chips in the Copper Kettle and on Monday night meets Roger when he is eating a choc ice and they go off to see Hawaii which is expectedly bad. KB wants to be a nondo bear and sit up trees with wife and family. He sits by the mango juice. There is only one other person in my ward, a little girl with malaria. There are lots of male and female nurses – they giggle endlessly and are very jolly people. I have a chart and the temperature has been normal for days now. The Dr sweeps in with great ceremony every morning followed by assistants and the huge matron who apologises for the food and says I can have a bath in the private wing. The Dr is very authoritative and says it is the regulation to stay here until the skin drops off – it might be ages. Cookie comes with unfailing regularity to enquire what I want for breakfast – I always have corn flakes and a big pot of coffee. Recently I have had early morning tea. Get woken up in the dark. Although it is very comfortable it is quite a primitive hospital by Western standards. A corrugated roof and very open sometimes rain sweeps in and hens, dogs and cats wander past. It is very spacious and I am in a partition with another empty bed in it. I have a mosquito net and in the evening horrible bugs arrive, bats too. Three months ago they had a smallpox case – mostly they have hepatitis. The view is beautiful, overlooking the river. N bought me an orange and white nightie. Our clothes have gone to the laundry, mosquito net and sleeping bags as well. We are ready to go and N is completing a list of kitchen things. We have got a list of recipes in the AA book.
We are becoming extremely impatient with me being here all the time, we are pining to go. I read the book about ? and N arrives and we have desultory conversation until he goes in the afternoon. He comes back in the evening having gone to the B. Council and read the Economist. Yesterday he bought lots of things, including a suffurio? for cooking in. There is an old lady who comes and talks in Swahili at me. We have chicken for lunch. My sheets have been changed twice in three days, I am getting very bored. There is a cat with a quivery voice outside at night and one came spitting inside.
I am in despair, the Dr says I still have blotches and I am bored, bored beyond despair. N arrives he is very upset. He brings a lovely scone and he feels bored all day the whole time he is on the point of going but stays till after tea. Read Graham Greene. Mince for lunch and supper, cats play in and out all evening.
Cookie has no cornflakes for breakfast and I am irritated unnecessarily by small things – my tea is brought in the dark and I feel cross and grumpy. However, the dr arrives, today minus his entourage and releases me, am very excited and N arrives in time for tea and we are very excited together – we stay for lunch, not one of Cookie’s best efforts – mutton bones and dried mashed spud. We leave in solitude – the sister was nowhere to be found, just the humourless one-eyed orderly. We talk to the Administration and see Africans sitting under the trees. There is a TB ward and one for disabled children. I was amazed again by the greenness of everything and the blossom. We collected N s junk from the Happy Hotel, discovering later someone had stolen his Californian bathing trunks. He drove down to the sea which was beautiful and blue, had the brakes tested, bought a quantity of things in the supermarket, bought delicious jam puffs and ate them on the ferry on the way to Kikambala – it is very attractive. The cars are pulled across by chaps pulling a chain and they sing and blow a conch horn. It takes a long time. It is really nice. We crossed with two other white cars and arrived at the YH as the sun was going down. It was very empty and we had successful soup on a charcoal fire lit by N and our cooking efforts are thus much encouraged. Some Indians cook tea on a big primus. We buy a ¼ of a sack of charcoal. We go early to bed.
Jill’s wedding day. We get through Mombasa by 10.30 and cross the singing ferry. We have a farewell bun and set off up the Nairobi road which is empty and starts off tropical with banana and orange trees and people selling tomatoes and sitting under trees. They have funny little shops and villages with pointed roofed houses with no windows. The women have amazingly waggling behinds and they seem very tall and carry their babies on their backs. The country became scrub land with blue mountainous hills in the distance and we entered Tsavo Park West through a very deserted gate and paid a hideous entrance fee. For miles and miles it is scrubland and the road and soil is very red and there are curious mounds, perhaps anthills. We stop for cheese and marmite sandwich beside a water hole, very dried up and see ? antelope creature which we think are [blank]. There are bleached white leg bones near the water hole and N climbs a tree to survey the country. We see no cars and it feels very African and desolate. We see more buck and tremendous ostrich, very tall with long snakey necks, black feathers and pink feathered bottoms. One is running along with the ? and we see a couple with a tribe of warthog, funny little creatures who run along with tails vertical and curved like a walking stick. We see ? elephants, a few having babies in the distance, they have huge cabbage like ears which flap and long tusks. We reach Hombb? Lodge and see great pelican birds on one leg by the dam and continue on to Voi Gate on the way seeing pretty yellow birds, bindweed-like flowers and a herd of giraffes. They allowed N to get quite close and take three pictures. They stand and watch, peering over bushes and move altogether, very slowly and stop and stare again – they look as if they are in slow motion and are extraordinary with their funny little horns and ears sticking out. We can’t tell whether they are reticulated or not, we see a few zebra who are very timid and dart away and they are dumpy little things, their stripes are very nice. In the evening a tribe of baboon hop across our path, one is up a tree and they are funny creatures with horrid pink behinds. We drive past Marcants? Rock and have to drive back. It is a very dried up water hole with immense rock one side and one can see miles into the distance – a herd of giraffe are moving slowly through the bush and three elephants arrive, one has a drink and they start to dessicate the trees pulling lumps of leaves off and eating them. They go away and a lone wart hog trots down and has a quiet drink and hurries away looking over his shoulder. We have a successful supper. N makes a very good charcoal fire beneath a large rock and we have soup, eggs and beans, feel thirsty afterwards. We retire to bed. N with a headache and our bed is quite comfortable. The moon is very bright and we have an interrupted night, elephants arrive and eat extremely close to our car, we are quite frightened, they appear huge and one stands behind us and all we can see are his immense ears stuck out and slowly he plods away. It is very impressive.
We go on top of the rock at sunrise, nothing is about. N sees a buck later on. We sleep till 8 and have a vast breakfast, an enormous quantity of porridge and bread and jam and coffee. Some Germans and Yanks arrive with cameras and binoculars and have seen two rhino this morning. Our poor potatoes are inedible and we leave our fire still very hot and set off, seeing baboons over the road and elephant in the distance and giraffe mixed with zebra and we get a good view of them before they lope away, the striped zebras running fast to keep up. We arrive at a nice river with a waterfall, It is very attractive and green trees beside it. I wash underclothes, the water is quite muddy and we have to be careful not to catch bilharzia - there are several rangers around and lots of cars arrive, a large Sikh family with lovely bottle of coke and a delicious picnic, I sit in a hole in the rock and write my diary and N reads. KB sits in the back of the car. We see a ranger with an extraordinary car all ? up and he tells us where to go to see rhino so we drive three miles down the road and find a site for the car. We sit on a rock overlooking the river which is wide at this point and quite slow moving and we wait, saw some buck feeding on the far bank and stripy lizards with different coloured tails ran all over the rock. We started our supper very early and N made a very successful fire which boiled water very rapidly and we had liver and mashed potatoes sitting down by the river and nothing came and it got dark and we were a bit frightened at the thought of wandering elephants and things and the dark rocks made everything very spoogly and we drank coffee and watched the moon rise which was orange and huge and shone enormously. We saw giraffe in the distance moving very slowly and heard strange, high pitched laughing noises, perhaps hyenas. At 12.30 we were woken by a shrill trumpet, very penetrating and minutes later an elephant appeared on the way down to the river, he trotted. Nothing else disturbed the night except some mosquitoes.
We got up at 6.30 and the sun was coming up. We made porridge and coffee and an elephant wandered through the bushes We washed in the river and saw large ducks with children sweeping down the river, on the other bank, a duckling stood motionless and at last he saw his hen. On the way to the entrance we saw a herd of buck and funny zebra rushing along, an ostrich with gorgeous pink and black feathers and he swished off very fast. The great excitement was a rhino at extremely close quarters, he was vast and scaly with horrid eyes and he lumbered off through the bush. He was with an elephant, one crossed our path. We saw a herd of buck, they galloped across the road and had black stripes along their bellies and were a paylish colour, that was the closest we have been to buck. The Nairobi road was very deserted, a few white people in cars and the road was extremely good and we buzzed along beside the railway line, a tribe of baboons bounced across the road and we stopped beside a huge very old looking elephant minus a tusk. He flapped his ears and rolled up his trunk when N got out and took pictures. All the elephants are much ?er than we expected. At about three miles from the gas station we have a puncture and our spare tyre is flat – N goes off to the gas station and the AA come along and change our tyre and we continue on, covering 50 miles of bad road feeling very unhappy about the ?? We give an Indian a lift and it is quite hot and we eat biscuits and are very excited about the letters. The country becomes very open with tall yellow grass and some bushes and we see giraffe, a large herd and climb and people are selling onions by the side of the road and it gets cold and we arrive in Nairobi, an extremely European, very modern looking city, just so many Europeans and few Africans, quite a lot of Sikhs. We collect rather gloomy letters from the P.O. and find our car won’t start when we get back, a stupid mechanic ?s it up and we are advised by a smelling Scotsman to take it to the AA and are very lucky there, finding two nice Indians and they take the starter motor out and we drive to the YHA and are very upset, we drive into a hole and Roger nearly runs us over and friendly Africans help pull It out. We are greatly relieved and have macaroni and tomatoes for supper, followed by gritty coffee. Roger is very talkative and there is a very strange English boy with a funny voice – we find out useful information about the log book and retire to bed in the car. A most comfortable night and cold.
A very busy early morning with washing and porridge and we have to push the car. It is cold until midday. We drive to the middle of the town along the Union Highway which is dual carriageway with eleven roundabouts covered with lovely blossom. Park by grass and trees and spend a long time queueing for the log book and eventually N sees Mr Ogeng and we rush off to the Standard Bank and an efficient European lady deals with our travellers cheques and we eat sandwiches in the car. Nairobi is empty all day and it certainly is an attractive city but too white, few Africans seem to have cars and there are no peasant people around, a few lying on the grass – there are lots of expensive tourist shops selling zebra skins and carvings and fly whisks. We spend the afternoon with Conrad Nazareth, the AA man and we sit by the car in this garden while he puts in the starter motor and we have lovely coke served by a very fat African lady, like a black Mammy. We are jolly hot in the sun and have tea and are obliged to look thro’ his wedding album and hear a long account of his wedding and we are very bored and he has an immense fierce Alsatian. Conrad Nazareth is very spiv like – tight jeans and pointed Italian shoes. We drive back to the town and walk round the town tothe New Stanley and used the lavatories which you have to pay for – it is not particularly nice inside and outside is the Thorntree where in R?’s book the African was killed – there is now hardly a black face among the people sitting at the tables. We drive home cursing that stupid African mechanic who buggered up the points. We fry sausages, onions and tomatoes until all hours.
Porridge and we dash off to the AA. It is jolly cold again and we go to the PO, road transport and N goes to Cooper Brothers and I read Queen in the ? and we think N may have a job in Dar es Salaam , we are appalled and excited and wander around to the Norfolk Hotel which is mock tuder, unpretentious and opposite the university which is a conglomeration of modern buildings which would be nice by themselves. There are curious large yellow horrid smelling flowers and a fountain with carved stone animals on a slab of stone. Unsuccessfully we look for Keith and end up in the British Council and read, the Sunday Times. My eyes are buggered. We arrive home in the light and N washes the car. Bullet hard peas and good scrambled eggs and cocoa.
Ns mother’s birthday which we are tempted to celebrate with steak and kid pie and two veg. We drop the car and see lots of Sikhs and photograph shops, get a map and I buy a brightly coloured top. N reads in the BC and outside it is cold and grey and we feel disconsolate eating sandwiches by the Uhuru Highway. We walk to the Parliament building which again is a collection of intricate buildings and looks a mess. We rest on the grass and drink tea in the H Pot – lovely cakes are constantly wheeled past and we feel very virtuous not eating any. Roger is at the AA and his car sounds fabulous so we feel very happy – Roger makes a good fire and we have macaroni and tomatoes and lovely ? Bed quite early and we sleep very well.
It is raining when we get up and Roger has lit the fire so we have delicious coffee, porridge and currant loaf. Nairobi is grey and dreary and we go to Cooper Bros who don’t want us – we are terribly upset. It is drizzly and we spend the day executing various jobs, buying masses of tins which we don’t realise will weigh the car down – we collect the photographs in which the animals mostly are little specks and go home early and have sausages and veg for supper with Roger.
We prepare to leave, eating porridge and current loaf. Our car is piled up with things. Collect two letters and set off on the wrong road, up and down little hills, very green, through fruit plantations, We catch the main Nyeri road by taking a little lane across thro’ sisal fields and African villages and there are lots of people along the roads – the women wear green cloth wrapped round them and they are all so tall and mostly very thin. It was a complicated route onto the main road – goats ate by the roadside and people herded cows. We climbed up and down quite steep hills and we were in the White Highlands with rolling fields and fences. It got windy and cold and we reach very open barren country with sparse bushes and long yellow grass, very deserted and Mt Kenya was hidden in cloud. We ate our sandwiches, stared at solidly by two boys dressed in tatters and the larger one carried a spear with a small head. They whispered and went away. We feel sleepy and continue on with the Aberdare mountains on the left – we turned off onto a dirt road to get closer to Mt. Kenya and arrived at a wooden house and a nice boy came out and we wrote our names in a book and he let us thro’ into the forest. We climb a steep hill, down to a river and the car stalls and stops and we are upset, thinking the starter motor is buggered up again. Some Indians push and we stop on a steep hill and realise we are overheated. It is very quiet and the forest dense and we look out for a lion who is said to wander around on the road. We unload the car and carry all our tins etc – in trepidation. The effort is worth it, over the hill we see the peak of Mt. Kenya, snowy and the cloud covers it intermittently. We are parked on top of a steep hill, a ?? shows far below us and we walk down the road in spite of lions and other beasts- N makes his fire in an enclosure of turf and we have attempted risotto – the rice takes ages cooking and it is all quite an effort and it sticks and it needs continuous stirring – the fire gives off remarkable heat – birds give the alarm and we imagine lions lurking close – it is very spoogly with dark trees and no moon and it is cold. We have an undisturbed night.
The sun rises at six and it is difficult to see Mt Kenya – it is freezing and the fire takes a long time. We are very happy when the car starts – we drive successfully up and down the hills to the river and they seem extremely steep. A few Africans are around and the water is icy. We reach the main road and Mt Kenya in the distance is very clear and blue and the peak is most distinctive. We drive very happily to Nanyuki, a sleepy little town and continue along a grit road to Thomson’s Falls – it is a very lonely road, we think most of the land is cultivated, some of it is fenced from the road and there are farmers names at intervals. The grass is tall and yellow and there are bushes – behind is Mt Kenya and the Aberdares to the left. We see a brown eagle with white leg feathers sitting on a fence post – he shakes his wings and eats from something in his talons – also a buck, ginger brown with horns and ginger white faced baboons crossing the road. We had a puncture and continued on to Thompson’s Falls and the country got green and fertile with lots of sorts of trees and tall green grass, it is very beautiful, lots of whites live there no doubt. The waterfalls were very high and spectacular and we saw large butterflies and lots of flowers, had a picnic and walked to the bottom of the fall, very steep steps and children followed us at the bottom. We took a bad road up and down rolling farm land toward Nakuru – we saw a Sunday afternoon meeting sitting on the ground and people along the roads carrying heavy loads on their heads – the earrings of the women are amazing and sometimes the men wear old khaki coats and there are fantastically tattered shorts around – the country was exceptionally pretty and we descended into a valley and free-wheeled miles on down to the lake near Nakuru which is quite a large town and we bought veg and it was hot and people stared. We went off to the lake which is surrounded by trees and yellow scrub in the foreground, we saw flamingos by the thousands, sitting in the water arriving and fishing and they have long necks and fly in formations and some have black undersides to their wings – it is a very remarkable sight, tho’ they are far too far away to see them in detail - we walked along by the lake and saw wading birds, ? and pelican like ones with huge heads and they sailed along all very close together and they all ducked together and suddenly. They were very amusing. Some extraordinary varied long legged, large birds stood at various heights in the grass and moved their legs when we disturbed them. It smelt by the lake and a trio of nasty boys hung around the car and we couldn’t decide whether they had opened the window and stolen our map – we found it later. We ate a very excellent pineapple. The flamingos were really a tremendous sight, the pinks and whites segregate and they flap their wings with a whirring sound and move around. We tried camping by the lake, a mistake as we heard a ?? and I saw a shape – we thought it must be a snake with eggs – we were eaten by mozzies so we moved, driving thro’ Nakuru and on, it got dark and looked vainly along fenced fields for somewhere to camp and we turned up a side road and N built the fire and we had veg stew – a chap came on his bicycle with his barking dog and talked in Swahili and later on an asst farm manager arrived and told us it was all George Simpsons farm and we felt quite happy about spending the night there.
The sun was very bright at 6.00 and we cooked porridge without mishap and washed in an icy stream. Cowherds came past and people talked to us – the road to Eldoret is very good, we climb constantly, really fertile farmland with huge spreading trees and tall green grass and cross the equator again – it is cold and people walk by the roadside with loads and local buses stop and collect people and great sacks of wood and charcoal. We reach forest country and see a colobus – a funny black and white monkey sitting on a tree – he was a very pretty monkey. We lost a lot of ground and arrived in Eldoret to see Roger as ever very jolly and we bought tomatoes and carrots and started off, having a terrible time on an abysmal road, frightful corrugations and the poor car rattles along and we turn up to Broderick Falls and the road is far worse and making a terrible rattle, a shock absorber has broken and we continue on and eat date sandwiches. There is a constant stream of people walking and there are their little pointed house and maize fields. Abominably fast drivers pass us and we get very hot and reach the border – the door sticks and the starter motor has gone wrong again, a group of Africans watch us pushing it, their mouths wide open and eventually two strong Africans hurry up and push with much enthusiasm. We pass thro’ the Kenya side quickly and stall when we reach the Ugandan police, they are very friendly and push. We see a hitchhiker to Burundi and carry on, along good tarmac road thro’ tropical country, very green with jungle noise and people selling oranges and bananas. Some of the older women wear very antiquated shaped dress, enormous puffed sleeves, long and full and the men loose flowing priest-like robes. The Ugandans appear very dark. We saw trucks selling Nile Beer. We climbed up and down, the condition of the car deteriorating badly when we reached Jinja on the edge of a very blue lake and we stop and N mends a battery cable. The car behaves as badly as ever and we continue on thro’ jungly country and sugar canes. We get upset and the car crawls up the hills and we find a gas station full of Indians who put new plugs in the car at cost price and put a bolt in the hole and the car still doesn’t start but we feel quite happy and sleep in the gas station and eat cold baked beans for supper.
The car starts surprisingly and we arrive in Kampala, crawling behind buses, taxis and passing boys on bicycles with huge banana loads and people going to school. We drove up and down the main street searching for the AA and finally put the car in a garage and left it till the afternoon - we walk round the town doing various things – Kampala is small, about the size of Mombasa and quiet compared with Nairobi, there are quite a few modern buildings. some still going up and a huge hotel, the Apollo. There are few white people and lots of African ladies in their fantastic billowing dresses and they are lovely materials. Some of the women are huge, towering above their husbands six ft or more and well proportioned. Lots of girls wear Western dresses. We walked through the market place which seethes with people and vegetables and have coffee which raises our physical strength. Some of the men are very striking, we saw one with tribal scars right round his head, they are at least 6’6” sometimes. We visited the Tourist Bureau and get some useful information about National Parks. There are some expensive shops in Kampala and restaurants charge a lot. We had a delicious samosa and coke in an entirely African restaurant where everyone was having lunch – they were eating stew and a funny yellow plate of potato-like food. N had tiny round patches sown on his ? and the afternoon is spent in finding Fiat 1100 spring is too long for our car and we waited for the Pakistani owner all afternoon, we got very bored and ate peanuts – we expect a part to come tomorrow so resign ourselves to spending the night in Kampala – the Pakistani turns out very friendly and we sleep in his large Russian car. We walk round the town in the evening and sell our gold bracelet for 430 shs – quite a good profit and N has a celebratory bottle of beer, we watch a family of dreary Belgians and Indians buying delicious looking cakes. We see an immense African lady, well over 6”. 70 years ago or so Ugandans were still cannibals. We must find out when Stanley arrived, etc. Our night watchman is an Askari and looks very dopey. I sew on buttons.
We have tea in an upstairs room and buy carrots in the market and drink hot choc from a Cadbury’s van. The market is very crowded. We hang around while waiting for the car to be mended and we are bored by 4.00 when it is ready. I read AJ Cronin, we have two pots of coffee and pay the bill of 105/-, we are just out of town when we realise the speedometer etc are not working. We continue on to Entebbe up and down hills, everything very green and lots of banana trees. Entebbe is a very clean town with white houses and no shops and we camped right beside Lake Victoria which was very blue and later got ? We were right beside the isolation hospital and there were two trees growing out of the water. later on covered in shrieking black birds, very menacing looking, wading birds. We ate meat stew.
A fat lady prayed to the lake and a boy fished by the trees while we ate our porridge and we drove back to Kampala and got our car mended and bought bread etc. It was very hot and we left feeling very tired. We started off for ? and after tropical vegetation and banana trees we got into flat, swampy road, not far from Lake Victoria. We saw some astonishingly fat ladies wearing very gaudy colours. We crossed the Equator and climbed into a windy district and ate lunch watched by boys selling chickens – the ? flew off our engine and we watch it closely – the country becomes flat and uninhabited and it is a Game Reserve and a Ranching scheme with lots of boreholes for water – we look vainly for animals, see ponies. The road becomes murram with bad corrugations. We passed school children wearing nice pink clothes and they all waved – there are lots of co-operative farms. The women carry their babies in an extraordinary fashion. They don’t seem as dark as when we entered Uganda but are just as big. We see lots of smoke, some flames, the fires leave cultivation untouched. We camp in very attractive surroundings, we are told by a chap who speaks good English there are no wild animals, cows only – they have huge horns which their heads can hardly carry about 3 ft each horn and the cows are very slender. We hear strange bird noises and eat macaroni, it is cold and trucks pass in the road and in the middle of the night two people walk past.
The sky is orange and a group of ladies by the road watch while we eat – surprisingly the car starts and we drive 50 miles to Kabale – the road improves and we climb up and down through little villages with people waiting for busses and there are bunches of green bananas waiting to go. There are lots of trucks and buses coming towards us and drive us into the ditches and there are lots of people on bicycles. The valleys are very green, I don’t know how they water them, we see them carrying bottles on their heads. In Kabale we have the loose nut in the engine mended and see a priest having his car pushed by scores of little boys and we go through two police checks, collecting some sort of tax. We have very weak milky coffee and bun and set off for the Queen Elizabeth Park on a very twisty steep road through forest and we had to do it all in second gear. The hills became tedious and we passed lots of Catholic schools and little villages and lots of tracks leading off and one would be in the Congo very quickly. Came onto lion animal country and saw a herd of at least 300 topi – antelope with skinny black backs. We met Roger at the Kigezi entrance and washed in a river and found open land to cook supper, in the middle of which a ranger moved us on and we went the other side of the road to the Reserve. Saw buffalo in the distance and various buck. We see a bush fire in the distance.
Elephant trot over the road while we are cooking breakfast and we arrive at the Park entrance and drive round the Southern Circuit, saw no lion but a weed covered pond full of wallowing hippos, at least 100, half submerged in the mud altogether and when they saw us they half rose and sometimes they yawned showing vast pink mouths, two yellow teeth and white birds sat on their back. There was a continual squarking. We saw masses of topi and cob and some Thomson’s Gazelle and they had tiny babies running along. A hyena, spotted with short back legs was stalking them without success. Saw no lions sitting in trees, a disappointment. N realised the car had run out of oil and we immediately set off for the fishing village 20 miles away on Lake Edward – horrid bald headed wading birds stalked around and we bought exorbitant onions and people stared hostilely. There were yards of white fishing net stretched out in the sun. We left quietly and because of massive elephant shit looked out for elephants in the bushes and saw several stripping the branches – baboons bounced across the road and wart hog, extraordinary little animals and the occasional buck. It got very hot and we ate lunch by a bridge with every nerve straining for animal sounds and there was a strange sweet smell, perhaps orchids or elephant pee. The country became very dense and the top of the oil came off, fortunately found all three pieces. We had a nice journey along a track overlooking the lake – very beautiful. We saw buffalo, they have funny grey faces and we saw one either stuck or dying in a water hole – N goes off to the lake but is prevented by angry buffalo stares and soon afterwards a very dear elephant comes slowly up the track and starts eating leaves. We stop at a waterhole, see a family of warthogs and elephant, one comes at snails pace near to the car. Storm clouds and a wind and we hurry off to the bridge and round the other side of the channel to the Game Wardens house – we sleep outside the camping site and cook coffee and pea soup,, listening to hippo grunting in the bush, we think they are wart hog. A warden arrives when we are nearly fast asleep and we move on but still hear grunting in bushes.
My insides feel very strange and we find a place for our breakfast, it is very late – 9.45 and our fire causes us to sweat most excessively, it is a raging fire. We drive the same way as yesterday evening, seeing nothing and leaving the park to sit by Lake Victoria to watch hippos wallowing and grunting with a baby one. We saw various wading birds, some huge white ones. We drove northwards, very bad animal viewing and took a little track towards Lake Albert – we drove 11 miles through bush and scrub and came upon elephants with children basking underneath trees, it was quite exciting as the track was grassy and narrow with many corners. We saw wart hogs who we are always amused by, wallowing in their holes and running with vertical tails. We saw gingery buck, probably ?, elephant trundling in the distance down to the water. We drove through Fort Portal up and down hills covered with bananas and little houses looking for a place to sleep, FP is very tiny and we drove on past immaculate tea plantation, drunk people put us off sleeping there. It started thundering and we drove through very tropical forest finding a place to sleep
We find we are in a forest clearing, people walk past us and we start off early to Hoima along a gently hilly tropical forested road through little villages some with nice flowering bushes and shops full of sacks. Hoima has lots of shops run by Indians, we bought a 3/- panga – made of inferior steel. The drive to Masindi was similar – I am finding this diary a great drag these days, just too dreary. We drive through long grass in the National Park, Murchison Falls and are quite unable to see animals and the roads are abominable – mounds of earth blocking the way. We drive to the Nile and see hippos, ears just showing above the water, floating lazily down. We find a hiding place behind bushes and hear hippos grunting.
We retrace our way over the bad road, past eating elephants, arrive at the Falls which are very large and impressive, torrents of water pushed through a 20 ft gap, thundering down – sadly no crocs near the banks. We are accompanied by a ranger who refuses to be shaken off which rather spoils it – we drive back to the ferry, seeing the largest herd of elephants so far, tearing up greenery. The clouds vanish and it gets hot, we drive to the Albert Nile, locusts fly into our car, a piece of metal falls off. We see three rhino, one young one with a tremendous horn, vast. We picnic beneath a tree and further on see many elephant, one huge swinging his legs perhaps he had musth certainly he looks very old, with holes in his ears. Wart hogs are many, large with the fantastic horn on his nose, hundreds of antelope, little tiny thin gingery ones, ?, and greyish fat hairy ones – hippos wallow in the swamps and we are too frightened to look closely for crocodiles on the bank. The Nile and surrounds are very attractive, different greens and we see marvellous birds and minute black and scarlet ones and yellow black that cling to tall grasses and huge black wading birds with scarlet throats that sit on trees – thunder clouds come and it rains and we get stuck in the mud up a hill, a Park land rover full of Germans have little clue how to get us out – we take out all tins etc and eventually we manage. On the way to the northern entrance we see elephant eating and waving their trunks. We had a puncture near the barrier and three angry buffalos with lowered heads paced about and watched disappearing into the long grass. The road beyond the park was abominable and we turned on the wrong road, to Gulu -it was dark and few people walked along that road, we looked for a place to sleep, a Ministry of Works earth dump is where we stay, it rains and we are worried that we will get stuck. We hear a woman shouting in a language that sounds curiously primitive.
The car gets onto the road okay and we drive through hordes of school children to Gulu, have the car dealt with and have coffee in the most expensive hotel, very good. The road is good mainly throughout the day and quite flat so we sail along looking at people carrying enormously long spears, hoes and sticks. The women ride bicycles which is unusual and wear more modern clothes, it gets hot and an enormous lizard crossed the road. We reach Soroti and it pours with rain We shop and the place is full of Patels. N buys a spanner for his plugs. The road on is bituminised and straight with strange humps of rock – our car begins behaving badly and we have our plugs cleaned in a horrid garage and also our exhaust gasket has fallen off – we proceed to Toro and the car behaves abominably, we get miserable and go to two hopeless garages in Toro, start off for the border but the car coughs along and we turn back spending the night in a Caltex station and eat too many baked beans.
Our car is taken to a garage, it crawls up the hill and we see a bull terrier catch his nose in the spokes of a bicycle wheel. We have some confidence in the Indian mechanic, a fairly superior man and we are told we need new piston rings, a secret fear we have had some time. We have yet another plug and start off to Eldoret in the greatest trepidation, the car behaves really quite well on the abominable road and we celebrate with coffee in a hotel where we see a Russian Orthodox priest with followers – we manage the hills to Nakuru very well, buy pineapple and avocado pear and hurry on our way through mountain scenery, past Lake Naivasha and spent an extremely cold night. It took two hours to make scrambled eggs in the mud.
We drove to Nairobi in mist – a freezing day, Conrad is a sly little man I think- we have steak and kidney pie at the HP – we freeze all day – wash clothes at the Youth Hostel – its empty - ? gives us a cabbage.
Wait hours for Conrad who turns up looking spiv like. The ? of our supermarket has died. We leave our poor car and feel rather grey and go home by bus laden with shopping, read all afternoon and watch people in a car rally. Have a lovely double bed. N plays the mouth organ.
Although have nothing to do are quite busy, washing sweaters and hair, peeling potatoes and go for a walk – very English Sunday afternoon and read the Observer brought by an English boy from London. Very cold.
Potato and egg for breakfast, we landed up in an African area on our bus and walked to the AA where we spent the morning with Conrad, we are depressed by our car but are bearing up under the strain of an imminent £30 bill – we go home and find a NZ boy with a loud Australian accent.
We have a very quick breakfast and amid racehorses, catch the bus which drops us in the square miles away. Conrad has one car under control – we can do nothing constructive about our car and read in the BIS – we wait ages for a bus, go home and have a lazy day – Roger arrives and we have a big supper – liver, onions, juicy pineapple. We are dying for our car to be finished, we are quite happy here – there are two Germans, they go to bed early – the NZ boy made a huge rice pudding, not very nice. My diary has been very dull recently and uninspired. My hands smell of liver. Can go for a very good ? in ?
We spend a very lazy day completely at home – we read, eat massive amounts of bread and feel under exercised and foul, buy a delicious pineapple and go for a short walk, Roger arrives, also an English boy – we have scrambled eggs for supper and oxtail soup. Roger eats too, immensely.
We spend the morning in Nairobi, have a fruitless conversation with Conrad. I buy Xmas cards and a bra, hang around for Roger and go off to Nairobi Game Park – disappointing, though a baboon jumps on to our car and we see zebras very close – again no lions. There is a very U boy from Glasgow staying at the YH. He climbed Kilimanjaro. The Germans are nondos.
A very lazy day eating massively – the English boy leaves and the NZ boy. Roger is sent to buy sausages.
Roger leaves. It thunders and we find Conrad who says the piston he got for the car is wrong and we are sent off to search and achieve little. We think Conrad is playing games round us, we don’t really understand what, but he is constantly telling us and other people lies – we are forced to put up with him but shortly will tell him we see through his pranks. We saw crippled boy lying beneath a car, the police plus alsation failing to get him out. Fish for supper, the Germans go to bed early as usual.
Very sunny, we do nothing.
Conrad produces the part and we spend the day in the British Council and HP
Spend day at home, very sunny. Washing. Tomorrow we will be stuck with Conrad.
Have delicious African tea – met Conrad and quarrelled – an Englishman from Zambia arrived, quite old.
It rained, met Conrad at 4.00. N had his hair cut, car not ready, home in an AA van. Cold supper.
Arrive at ? , the car has to be left idling so we wander about – see Keith in the YMCA, a very luxurious place with swimming pool and see the man from Zambia – we drive home and clean out the car, eat stew.
The car is towed from Westlands by the AA – we wait for ? who cleans the carburettor and we finally leave along the Mombasa road, turning off into Masai country, barren and brown, a few buck and giraffe and Masai villages – hugely tall people with light brown painted faces, flies swarming round their eyes, they wear brown pieces of cloth and the women huge necklaces and things round their ankles and in their ears and the men carry long spears and they are an impressive sight herding their cattle mixed with donkeys. We crossed the border and spent the night in ugly open country with thorn bushes and Kilimanjaro obscured in cloud – we have surprise supper which turns out to be potato salad – N feels seedy and goes on to a bread diet.
Our breakfast is interrupted by Masai, first boys with a stream of cattle, they stare into the car quite young but hugely tall and they smile and have huge teeth and we drive off to get away – our porridge cooked and Masai women come along, very jolly picking up tins and plates. Their faces are definitely painted brown and they are also very big and go off with some milk in a Birds Eye tin. Two immense men came along and talked. We drove off and have a harrowing time with the car, we are 50 miles from Arusha when the car acts up – jerking along and missing, several cars stop and take off the distributer etc and finally a nice white Kenyan couple stop and some Indians who fix it well enough to get to Arusha – the road is paved all the way and we climb and go through villages of cows and Masai and goats. The country is very spacious and brown and Arusha hot and sleepy, it is Sunday. We find a mechanic, highly dubious in a field, the timing is fixed and there is a terrible noise as a nut comes loose in the gear box which means another 2 hours work. We leave much impressed by Tanzanians, who seem most friendly and drive off, the car much improved and the clouds clear off Kilimanjaro and we see the mountain very well, sun shining on the snow at the top and it looks a very gently slope though too steep for us to climb - we go through Moshi and in the dark find a place to sleep in tall grasses with ?lings and snake noises – giant incontrollable macaroni for supper.
An early start, cloudy and we turn off the road onto another paved one, the country is pretty, very green with craggy hills, tropical vegetation and later on vast sisal estates – plants with cane leaves and a long stem shooting up, we see it drying in the sun. Masses of white threads on wire. We drove alongside a little train. The road deteriorates, and we bounce in and out of large corrugations. The car behaves very well and all fears are temporarily allayed. We arrive in Korogwe, a one street town extremely hot and dusty and we wander around buying bread and have cake in the Travellers Inn. We turn off the Tanga Road and drive on superb tarmac through jungly country through a Game Reserve, see only a few monkeys on the road. We see either Italians or Yugoslavians on the road and the tarmac runs out. We spend the night in a very satisfactory place just off the road, disturbed by no one.
A very lengthy breakfast, baboons of all sizes bound up trees, crash branches to the ground and squeal. The car goes abominably – we have it fixed, first by a Yugoslav in a hurry and limp on 100 miles to the Mbeya road, climbing steep hills and have a picnic in a “pingo”, a shady picnic ground and shortly afterwards the car, in burning heat refuses to move. Two vacant Africans stare and help push and an Agip engineer, arrives and despite a formidable array of instruments does nothing constructive. We limp on and stop by a bridge, we are getting very upset and miserable, when a blue Peugeot stops and a very jovial chap with his son ? succeed after several tries to get the engine gong better due to ?ing the automatic choke and we reach Dar eventually – people walk by the roadside in white shirts and the road is ? and the outskirts of Dar quite large. We follow the old man’s directions to his yard, he is a ? engineer we gather by the docks and spend the night in his caravan, in darkness on a hard bed.
Dar is very small attractive, surprisingly quiet, the sea is super and blue and the harbour small and there are lots of Arabic looking people, women dressed in Moslem fashion and lots of Whites. We think it would be one of the better places to work for a short time. It is a very old town, ancient buildings and comparatively few Indians. We go to the Zambian High Commission and meet Kit and the old man in the Agip Motel, rather smooth and have refreshing beer – he drives like a maniac to his home, right down by the sea – all in great comfort. We wander about for the rest of the day in great exhaustion and find a hurricane lamp in the caravan, scrambled eggs for supper. The askari is very helpful – Dar is a bit like Mombasa. No letters in the P.O, certainly very small, the sea front is very attractive. The British Governor’s home is immense and white and there is a huge American type hotel, Kilimanjaro. There is not much to see in the town. We should have a swim before we go – the mechanic at ? and Paul dismantle the inside of the car and we hope are fixing it.
A very hot day, we struggle into the town to Cooper Bros and wandered about buying socks, skirt, shoes for imminent interviews. We have salad for lunch and spend the rest of the day in the yard of ? and Paul. Our car is still the same, the mechanic claims it is the valve. We have rice pudding for supper
Days spent hanging around our car. Amarillo the mechanic is pretty hopeless, Kit and his father come up with bright suggestions. One day it rains and our caravan is flooded out, everything damp and uncomfortable. We spend a lot of time walking to and from Dar. N has his passport renewed – on Saturday we go in the old man’s boat, it is rough and feel sick. We have delicious spring chicken and caramel cream. Sunday is quite dead, we go to Oyster Bay.
By Kit changing the distributor, the car is miraculously improved – we took it to a fat Indian mechanic previously. Very hot, steak and Kidney, very tough for supper. Typing Profit & Loss account. Our car really sounds much better and we could leave tomorrow.
A very hot day, start off and the car sounds terribly happy, have tea at our pingo and spend the night beyond Morogoro in a quarry, very deserted, lettuce supper, quite good ? big trucks
We stop for a drinking African with broken down car – see buck and giraffe, baboons, don’t stop in the National Park. Lots of trucks and dust and it gets hot, we bypass Iringa and buy petrol from a funny machine, cold in the evenings, eggs for supper which turn out hard boiled.
White dust and pink dust and we are covered by lorries, puncture, we arrive in Mbeya in high excitement, a quiet little place, collect our letters, have the car greased and set off, having egg and tomato sandwiches on the way, we climbed an escarpment, turned off the main road 12 miles and onto the shamba, coffee neatly growing in rows and met my uncle wearing a vivid orange shirt and we had tea in the immense sitting room with a fireplace, my uncle is very easy, repeats himself and we eat delicious meals in style.
Before lunch, we drive round the shamba – see the coffee for store and house where its stored. In the evening see the meteorite and a ? surrounded by great gloomy fir trees.
Meals very late, go to Vwavwa in the evening, delicious choc cake for tea, have a drink in the African pub and meet the Major.
The day spent in the Mbozi boozer, my uncle drives home quite tight and drivelling about my Aunt Mima. Drink with Odette.
We have lunch with the Stewarts, go to the club in the evening. My uncle drivels about his African wife.
Do nothing, smoke bhang, like marihuana.
Drink with Clowes
Get caught in the rain. Odette and the Clowes. Smoke bhang.
Nightjars. Club party.
Lunch with Allans. Beer in the Bell
Clean car. Bubeya?
We crossed the border in heat and my uncle wore a red shirt, Temple a wine coloured one as usual. Bubeya? Came – the day spent crossing barriers, no trouble – people very courteous contrary to expectation. A very narrow twisty, completely deserted road -occasional people on the side – little mountains, all river dried. Drove in the dark about steep hills, cars timing wrong and we spend the night outside government rest house at Rhumpi, capital of Northern Province. Chicken for supper and mewing cat. Malawians smiling and wave and speak good English and wave.
Spend hours on car seat, speak to lady, misinformed by her and with great gloom go to the centre of Rhumpi which is small, surrounded by hills and dusty and find bus mechanic to fix car – very willing, at end demanded £1.15 – we give 15/- and the timing is perfect, we are very pleased. Mountains very nice on the left, towards Lake Nyasa – blue. Very hot and deserted again – had puncture mended slowly and incompetently. Saw missionary type lady with huge sun hat on bicycle careering downhill. Villages very small, feel out in the wilds. Night spent by ? bush fire, very secluded.
Gets light at five, people watched from a distance while having breakfast. Arrived Lilongwe, the town we had gone out of our way to see, a small provincial place, rather like a Canadian town in Northern Alberta – about 4 factories. Europeans own most of the shops. Nowhere for coke. Spend an hour there and drive on – find our log book missing at Zambian border, my fault and great unhappiness. Officials get bored of us looking pathetic and let us through. Ft Jameson a mess, road in upheaval, spend time at petrol station and set off in hurry for Lusaka. Road full of diversions, go through a thunder storm, quite brief and battle on with corrugations, it gets dark, we have dreaded puncture, carry on in rain to find open garage, see mysterious holy men in white. Cold supper in sandpit, quite late.
Good progress in early morning and hoped to be in Lusaka at 2 pm, a puncture which dashed all hopes. N went back 16 miles to Smith & Young? Contractors, an African had the puncture mended and brought him back, the same wheel went 5 miles later, a white Zambian in truck laden with oil and copper took me back to same place where Africans went on strike at ?? and the man did it himself. Back in a lorry with African lady, tiny baby on back with feet sticking out. On again for another 5 miles and same thing again, hotter and hotter and amid swarming flies waited all afternoon for N who went down to bridge over wide river and Dorman Long proved unhelpful. We raced round getting patches and a half caste drove him round in a Toyota – another puncture five miles on and we give up hope till next day, very barren country and there are tales of lion, we meet South African and Zambian Army who replenish water supply. Trucks roar up the hill, we sleep on spiky grass down bank, surprisingly soundly. We met a refugee officer – refugees from where –
Woke in great heat and flies, they die in my hair. Three car loads of curious bearded M.Eastern men pass wearing Muslim hats and long beards. We set off, puncture mended by N after great struggle improvising tyre lever. Wash in river under gushing pipe and the river is very wide and slow and surroundings beautiful. Have puncture mended by Army and spend a couple of hours there in shady tent surrounded by the African soldiers’ huts made of dried grass, with Sergeant, English, very fat and N. Country with innumerable cups of tea and Zambian mechanic, drink cold beer and it is the first time I have enjoyed it for months. Lunch, tinned meat. We feel very full and content and set off with News of the World in great heat to visit Osborne who is sitting in derelict village drinking beer, constructing targets for soldiers on 34? He and friend are gun obsessionists, European officers in Zambian army are mercenaries - 24 miles away is the border of Zambia-Mozambique and Rhodesian and guerrilla freedom fighters have been caught there? Wait in little ?, drink beer, decide to go on and miss party at Dorman Longs on bridge, , ? it would be dreary, we decided. See soldiers marching looking very happy. Camp on hill in tall spiky grass, animal noises send us scurrying to car.
Rice pud with jam, very hot, visit the last of Bat 9 and have tea and lemonade and it is burning hot. Dresses hang in the ceilings of African shops, very gay colours and temptingly cheap. Many deviations, dusty, little hills, exhaust breaks, very trying and has to be tied up many times, car has to be jacked up. We see tarmac and eventually get on it – a tremendous relief. Puncture 27 miles out of Lusaka and 7 miles near suburban ugly European houses. It seems very much ? town. Gas stations and black areas with horrid shacks, people look rather tough and very tarty girls, one would have to be careful sleeping out. Main streets very Sundayish, find campground with wonderful bath and green and white striped tents, clean car and stew with carrots. Lots of whites living here, probably Yarpies.
We have porridge on a pressure stove and spend an extremely hot and exhausting day in the town, buy a new Dunlop tyre. There doesn’t seem to be much to the place – people have massive American cars and everyone is very Westernised, fish and chip shops, although you do see ladies carrying their babies in the usual way. There are square modern buildings, quite ? and Independence Avenue is very wide with all the govt offices and Kaunda’s palace, very long low and impressive in a large square at the end – flags, striped, flying everywhere for Independence Day, the next day. Some ?s with rich looking houses and we visit Ben the Warrant Officer and have beer and champagne and we remain remarkably sober throughout.
Feel effects all day. Watch parade, OK employees and other mundane people and ridiculous looking European officer. Wander disconsolately round town, very dead, spend most of day in campground, drink lemon.
We start off having had points fixed – extremely dull journey to Livingstone, flat bush country and saw Falls, very empty, spent night in caravan park, ate spinach.
Saw elephant herd, sat on banks of Zambesi. Crossed Rhodesia border. No sign of any military. Petrol coupons, flat dull country all day. Violent storm, therefore had dreary evening
Arrived Bulawayo in rain, seemed dreary town and all the people middle class and drab. Had fairly cheap meal and walked round main streets and supermarkets, very big but little choice, couldn’t find porridge. People don’t look starved, food doesn’t seem extra expensive, petrol 6/- generally and have to have petrol coupon. Few Africans in the streets, shops sell Independence ties and in bookshops are lots of publications re Rhodesian situation. Replaced our filter, still raining and left having decided not to visit Salisbury – too dull country and would arrive ever ? Country toward South Africa border scrub and dull, road good. Scrambled eggs and potatoes for supper.
Rhodesian side of border have apartheid lavatories. Pay £15 deposit on car, officials quite nice but we are prepared to dislike S. Africans and do so. Everything is segregated, art galleries, buses etc and see native compounds encircled by high wire. Country ? through Drakensberg mountains in mist. Flat desert country, walked round middle ? town – Nylstroom. People at a fair and very sallow and ugly – lots of teahouses and common clothes in shops. In Transvaal, Africaans is spoken and had difficulty understanding in shops. Night spent in park ? of small town.
J’burg paper is very liberal, read it while eating stew at 8.30 in leafy, dull, flat country till Pretoria, a pleasant place in the centre of rolling hills. Day spent looking for N’s grandmother in art galleries. Came across a crowd of sombre hatted people at a church service in City Hall. Beautiful blue jacaranda trees everywhere. People wear conservative clothes. Night spent in layby on way to Jo’berg.
Drank tea to evade rush hour and the city very tall and big, quite pleasant, parks with benches, blacks and Europeans and lots of African nurses with horridly ugly yellow children. Africans have few benches in parks. Crowded streets and shops, get letters. Evening and night spent with N’s Dutch friend and £25 extracted. [Money lent to him in Amsterdam and which he clearly didn't expect to have to repay but our unexpected arrival changed that! He begged me to make no mention of it to his wife].
Got lost in foul suburbs – night spent in Bethal park near a ? bus. Country getting nice and torrential rain.
Car serviced, something underneath broken, continue on to Swaziland -? Hilly and sheep, herdsmen in weird clothes. Capital very tiny, rain, hills and bed early.
Come back to S.A., have tea in noisy Swazi restaurant. We go miles out of our way over hills by a gravel road. SA has extremely inadequate road signs. The country is very grand with mountains in the distance (King Soloman’s Mines) and lots of sugar cane with little railways carting great loads away. Natal is English speaking, the signs are still in both languages. The road quite corrugated in parts, very hard and our car bears up bravely. Eat stew by the road in the middle of the day. Storm clouds gather over the sugar cane and we continue onto tarmac road, becoming dual carriageway and the country is very green and have drink in antiseptic hotel – ladies bar – Indian waiters – during the day see snake dead on the road?? During the night we see a little wild cat with striped tail. Spend night near sea.
Sit near sea in village of hideous seaside houses. Arrive in Durban after a very pretty drive, green hills etc. Durban is built round a bay with neat suburbs and huge hotels, few Africans in evidence, some dressed in feathers pulling rickshaws. We pack the car early and walk round the centre – a very ordinary town, the usual shops, see Roger’s name in the visitors book. English speaking South African cooking slightly more interesting than the Dutch. Durban surrounded by hills. Attractive harbour with lots of boats. Search vainly for cheap place to eat and land up with cheese sandwich. Sit on the beach and see the NZ boy in the Nairobi YH. He took five weeks hitching down. Beach quite crowded, Indians walking around with menus, poor sods and people look at them as if they were dirt. Don’t like Indians normally. We leave, it is quite hot and climb endless hills out of the suburbs into the country and drive on very attractive steep winding road, green fields, animals and Africans on horses with umbrellas are an unusual sight – there are donkeys too. We have tea on summit of hill, overlooking river and lots of girls appear with oranges and they run and hide behind the bushes when they see police approach. We see a very old black car driven by two Africans and they stop on hills, putting damp rag round fuel pump. Our car behaves very well though makes dreadful noise. We drive into the dark and hear weird bird sounds and see owls.
Start off quite early up and down interminable hills, very attractive and see Africans wearing long dresses and aprons and some herding cattle and some riding horses. Very few whites about, an almost entirely African area, very neat white houses with pyramid shaped roofs. Curious shaggy goats. Very attractive ? villages on hills. It gets very hot. We stop in Umtata and buy provisions. Are turned out of African side of bakery. Country gets more spacious, Bantu huts dotted all over the hills and see road for miles in the distance. Lots of ponies. Eat lunch on hill under thorn tree, very hot Saturday afternoon - villages look very sleepy. Country gets rocky, drier and no population. Car grinds along. We feel very hot. East London much cooler and we find Western Front, very nice with rocky sea and camp near a tea room with a public convenience. We park overlooking the sea and it is suddenly very cold.
Set off quite late due to washing and the town is very deserted, Sunday. Newspapers haven’t much news. Undulating, attractive country, reach sea again late afternoon. See really squalid native locations – grey corrugated iron. Port Elizabeth quite big – masses of cars coming in, road quite narrow and we see very nasty head on collision just happened. Spend night by deep gorge – Storms River, pinewoods, people have picnics but no fireworks.
Dog eats porridge, continue in pine woods and down steep twisting hills, stop in sea side town – Knysna. Very tidy and English speaking. Buy butter. Continue in open country, driving west all the time – high wind – N makes fire for coffee out of fir cones. Night spent in pinewoods near lake, very attractive.
Arrive Cape Town and see Table mountain – pleasant spacious city and visit travel agents etc. Fish and chips for lunch. See P & O boat, Arcadia, have tea near harbour. Night spent 7 miles out near sea.
Day spent at shipping lines, etc. Cape Town a nice town, time spent in P.O. no letters. Portuguese man in tea shop. Cape Town has new railway station, very empty, whites only. Night spent same place.
Read papers in British Council – leave in great heat. Pretty arable country ? We camp beside river, family swimming. Clear out our possessions. Mashed potato and sausages.
Very hot, and country turns very desert like with few towns and they are very Australian like and there are lots of coloureds. Night spent by road, police come.
Cross into South West Africa over Orange River and drive through complete desert, sand, etc. No cars? Funny windmill things for water, little houses miles from anywhere. Stop at town and are sold stale bread for 15 cents. Lots of donkeys and some gravel road and fail to go to camp site and spend night by dry river bed. Lettuce supper
Continue on in immense heat, see donkeys with gigantic ears pulling carts and scattered around in the wilderness. Scrub country very dull. Buy health milk in sleepy Sunday town. Hard boiled egg picnic in hot ?. Lots of cars towards Windhoek and country covered by ? craggy hills. Night spent very near Windhoek. Corned beef.
Birds in big nests wake us at five. Raining intermittently. Day spent AA etc. No visa.
Repeat, yellow fever inoculation.
Intermittently raining and visit PC and PO with no success – read in library which faintly disapproves, we feel. Nearly have cup of tea – cook fish pudding in rain and wander down road.
We leave Windhoek, really quite unexpected – the telegram arrives in the morning and it pisses with rain. Buy dried fruit for expected arduous journey – spend night 120 miles from Windhoek, see peahens, I mean guinea fowl and fat black caterpillars crossing the road very fast and kudus – a species of buck with white stripes on the back and wide ears like spoons. It leaped very gracefully over a wire fence. Country quite flat, lots of thorn bushes, uninhabited and see signs of rain -puddles and some running rivers.
The road remains tarred longer than expected – we reach Etosha in early afternoon and from there the land becomes waterlogged and there are large areas submerged, do not go very near the ? See tortoises crossing the road, various small buck, vultures and a slender type of buffalo. The road is quite sticky in places – Ovamboland is for the Africans only and Europeans have only one day to pass. People look very cheery. Herds of long horned cattle, very clean looking and goats and little damp looking houses, surrounded by thorn trees. We spend a night with S.A police, a couple of thick boys and a cocky blonde, extraordinary fried bread and putrid coffee. Depressed by prospect of car getting abandoned.
Reach the border without mishap, a few large puddles and road not sticky. Really humid and tropical weather. The Portuguese customs are, contrary to expectations very civil over the car, demand no deposit. We progress 6 kms to a banana trailer stuck in the mud. The road is churned up for ¼ mile and there are ? and land rovers trying to get it out without success. Everyone looking very lazy, pigeon shooting. We begin on a detour designed to skirt the bad place, after a good start get stuck in mud and it rains heavily and we get masses of wood behind the wheel – the Portuguese arrive and push and it seems we are stuck irrevocably until a truck with very high wheels arrives and tows us, a very long process until the little village which looks very Portuguese even in the dark – we have supper in someone’s house – baked pig – the head sliced so the brains could be eaten. One person could speak a few words of English – little boy, kitten moving everywhere and we sleep in the car outside, Lots of little boys.
We have our car washed by the many little boys and start off, abandoning the car near enormous puddle which it obviously could not go through. First, we have porridge and coffee, the petrol can goes up in flames, causing great alarm. We leave the car and wade through puddles and grassy swamp for 20 miles, not flagging and in mostly good weather – hard boiled eggs at intervals and plenty of rest. Passed a mission and arrived Peira d’Eca at about eight in darkness and exhaustion – the Chief of Police greeted us and took us to the hotel – quite cheap – we meet an Italian, a perpetual world traveller and is an unqualified dentist next door, we collapse and sleep.
Pereira d’Eca is sleepy and like Dili – we visit the Customs man who is very nice and a humble sort of man – we are finding the Portuguese more friendly than in Timor They appear to lead very lazy lives – delicious breakfast – good coffee and there seems to be few Africans around – those we see are fairly primitive – women wear vests or nothing underneath. They are thinner than E African and other ones we have seen – lots have bad eyes clouded with something horrid. The Army arrive and take us off to tow the car out – a large jeep and five men in camouflage clothes and bristling with weapons. The road seems more under water than ever – we got ? stuck and the jubilance of the Portuguese faded – a tractor pulled us out and we spent the night in Namacunde, the tractor driver gave us sardines and bread and we slept on a tiny bed in his tiny cottage.
The starter motor was taken to pieces and cleaned, miraculously the jeep worked and we collected our car and continued on under a cloudless blue sky. The oceanic puddles seemed to be shrinking – our car weathered it extremely well – one of the army steered it and we sensed they were all hungry and impatient to be back – their high spirits non apparent this morning – we passed a German salesman in an Opel complaining loudly about the filth etc of the Portuguese and he must now be stuck in the mud we hope, although being stuck is an awful fate and very tedious too paddling around in huge muddy puddles. We arrived back and announced the car for sale – the smooth Lt looked quietly interested and the Italian with the peculiar complex bought it in the afternoon – for £25 – the engine survived the water very well and we are very pleased to get rid of it for something – the Customs man is very amicable – the duty after one year will be £1,000 – the Italian is very satisfied too, even with the bad U joints etc. We have a drink, eat prawns and refuse foul looking tripe. The person who owns the hotel is very fat and apparently is a mine of information - his wife is rather pretty though sallow which seems common to P. Women, they have six children, all staring into our bedroom too and five horrible fat mastiffs, slothful and slobbering, they sit in the shady bathroom. The food is abundant, rice and meat and fish in nice sauces, spinach in soup which could become monotonous – the PO man eats here and lots of other men, no women. We feel terribly hungry all the time. The Italian is quite interesting and seems to have been everywhere, doing various jobs, an inveterate wanderer and is making a lot of money being a dentist. I expect the Africans die like flies here not having English doctors to go round. We saw the half caste who pulled us out at Namacunde. It would cost us £2.10 each to go to Sao de Bandeira – too much, we will hitch hike. Perhaps a truck will go tomorrow. It seems we are going to be back in England too soon – our money is running out. We will become nondos – worse than most because we will think we aren’t – it is too depressing our world travelling is nearly over. It is curious people think apartheid is acceptable. Perhaps we will work in Nigeria. The Italian has been all round the West coast of Africa – it sounds very expensive.
We sit outside the hotel on chairs until three when a chap in the Public Works gives us a lift to Sa da Bandeira. Are beginning to feel rather bored by the sleepiness of PdeE. The senora is very stern and thinks we may have run off with a towel. The Italian is having work done on the Simca by the army and is quite pleased with it. He has a persecution complex, probably brought about by his aggressive manner toward the Portuguese. Crocodile hunting sounds romantic, shooting rapids. He is the only dentist in PdeE and is going to Lobito Bay to spear fish. N sits in the back of the landrover with the African servant and boxes of chocs bought in Okevango and has an extremely bumpy journey – I am in the front and there is a spate of tiring conversation. The road is quite abominable for the first 100 miles – our car would never make it. The public works man is nice - has 30,000 stamps and speaks quite good English. His companion has 9 children and ? rather a rake. At Recades, we cross the river on a raft pulled by wire and drink beer, so far have not had to pay for any. Masses of insects and lecherous looking Portuguese soldiers. We have very expensive supper ? curried fowl and papaya. The two men look rather tired and conversation is non-existent. Eventually we hit the tar, the many poor rabbits sitting in the road get run over and we nearly squash a blundering old anteater crossing the road. It is freezing. Arrive Bandeira at 4 am, quickly we are found a hotel and fall into bed, still freezing. We hate travelling so late, it upsets our systems.
N’s birthday – no presents and cheese sandwich for his birthday breakfast, all fairly pathetic. We are very sleepy and force ourselves to vacate our room by 10.00am. It has a balcony and from it Bandeira seems sleepy though larger than P de E and surrounded by hills, a cross on top of one. We have café con laite, good for the morale. Today is one of non eating even though it is N’s birthday – even though we save on travelling spending nights and having meals is just too much all the time. I expect we will eat sardines and rolls quite a lot. Sa de Bandeira seems empty of Africans, a few wander down the streets. All the shop keepers are Portuguese. We wait for the Public Works man in our hotel – he arrives with no news so we plod off feeling real spectacles – people do not know what we are up to and stare a lot and we feel conspicuous. We climb a big hill, a bit defeated as do not know if it is even the right way. A land rover gives a lift a few miles and by a stroke of luck get a white van all the way to Nova Lisboa driven by two Jewish looking people, little fat men, very jolly and they feed as on nectarine like fruit and horrid German sausage – clotted blood. The oil sump leaks so we stop and are bought beer and delicious very expensive choc. All the children come back from school and stare. They wear white overalls. The country is in no way tropical – just bush but the trees are getting taller. The Portuguese are very pathetic at bridge building and there is much to be done with the road where bridges are necessary. We set off again in the dark, a tiny deer runs across the road, they get very excited, try to run it over but fail and prepare their gun and ammunition for future deer but fortunately we don’t see any more. We get very sleepy and reach Nova Lisboa about ten – it is larger than Sa de Bandeira and we find a seedy hotel, really nasty bedroom. We are quite exhausted, have cheese sandwiches and go to bed. A very poor way to celebrate N’s thirtieth birthday but we will do better in Luanda on Sunday, maybe we will eat a lobster. The little we see of Nova Lisboa is very civilised compared with other Angolan towns so far – pavements and modern shops. Lots of smart looking buses, they are very expensive, we save a lot by hitch hiking – there is a railway too. Portuguese food is not very satisfying to us – we feel hungry minutes after eating vast helpings of rice and soup.
Breakfast is the best meal of the day here even though it is very simple – we eat hugely of rolls, butter in funny shapes and that curious solid jam. The dining room is less seedy than elsewhere – two smart looking middle aged ladies are there and we have three cups of coffee. We walk through the town, past a suburb, buy bread and see Africans carrying their goods to market, lots of half-cast children with fuzzy pale hair, attractive. A man in a Toyota gives us a ride for 75 kms – he stops to show us a grass like plant from which is extracted stuff to make scent and is exported to France and Germany. The country is undulating, hills, green and some orange trees and smooth grey outcrops of rock. We are picked up by a large empty truck, quite fast and race along, a poor beetle with large red eyes gets blown to pieces and there is an African in the back. We pass several trucks carrying long horned cattle and there is a police check. There are huge rocks pointing into the sky. We stop at 3.00pm and wait for the truck which is making a detour of 14 kms. It is grey and cold. We have tiny cups of coffee. A huge duck waddles outside. The woman sitting in front of the truck has a delicious looking meal, egg and meat though some of the meat looks a bit dubious. I am hungry now. We ate roll and marmite in the truck. I hope it will come back soon as am getting bored. The Portuguese drink beer a lot. It is quite good, My nose is peeling, Ns hair is too long. There is not much traffic on the road. We are lucky getting the truck. It will be so cold we will have to get into our sleeping bags. People are playing a funny game with dice. The fizzy stuff they drink in bottles is too sweet. The truck must be expected back soon. The lady looks expectant as trucks go by. My stomach feels fat today. We passed small boys on the road selling curious fruit or vegetable with tops like pineapples. KB’s foot is becoming bald which is a great worry, it is spreading fast. Plates are always turned upside down on tables and soup comes in a big metal pot. There are bottles of wine on a shelf all round the walls. It all comes from Portugal. Tins are expensive here, mostly from South Africa. The lady tried to overcharge for sardines this morning – 12 cents for a 2 oz tin- sardines and rolls are very delicious, the tractor driver gave us some in Namacunde. At this rate we won’t arrive in Luanda till well after dusk. It is extraordinarily green round here but doesn’t look farmed much. All restaurants have coffee machines with handles – sometimes it is served in a thermos. They do not sell thongs in Angola and mine are wearing out. A dear little furry puppy with fat legs has just come in, ? and fallen over. The sun has come out. Quite a few trucks are going past. The men are playing a game with dice. It is ten to 4. I doubt if we get to Luanda till 10.00 pm. We start off about 5.00 and sit in the front, very hot. Country hilly and attractive. We stop three times for beer, the driver, a short fat fellow in check trousers becoming increasingly jolly, his sister a rather prim looking girl, ? done the situation quite amusing, she sat in the truck looking disapproving – we eat delicious tortas and sleep the night in his house, causing great consternation among the family, mama, typical lower middle class latin female looked me up and down and there was no smile for a long while. Slept in big bed – wonder what happened to the rest – are threatened to be taken swimming and failing at 4.30 am.
Fortunately slept till 8.30 – meagre brekky and driver rather silent – we find a pension after some difficulty about 15 mins walk from centre of town – very small and shabby – a family of noisy children, pregnant mother and fat, nice father. We have a balcony over a restaurant. Luanda is very attractive, on a large bay and built on hills – people are off to the beach and sitting at sidewalk cafes. Taxis have blue tops and see several Simcas which leads to mild unhappiness. We are revived by cups of black coffee – 4 ½ escudos and set off for the beach and go through the centre of the town, quite lively for Sunday afternoon. Some modern buildings, the Bank of Angola building and Pegasus (Spanish trucks and cars). The beach is empty, we arrive at lunch time and people are returning home for lunch, we paddle over small water. African and Portuguese completely mixed and they are eating chicken and drinking wine. Get red in the sun, water very nice. Lots of boys wear those silly continental hats. Walk by fishing boats and see 2 chevaux from Switzerland. The police direct traffic under enormous umbrellas and there are funny little post boxes at each garden gate. Some modern looking people – ghastly bright plastic sunglasses. People stare a lot. I must be peculiar and soon will have a complex. See big ships in the distance and N has to be restrained from investigating. We are on holiday today – his official birthday without celebratory dinner – however, the pension owner gave us very basic wine with supper and he had cognac afterwards. It doesn’t seem like Sunday.
Day spent visiting shipping and first we collect our letters and are told by the Consul to visit John Brown in the Casa Inglesa – a very nice rather ? Englishman. We visit the French Embassy who are rather woolly minded about visas, discover we can’t go to French Congo. There are few boats alongside the dock, it is not very large and are heavily guarded by Portuguese police – have no success but meet a young Belgian 2nd Officer with great charm and extraordinary beard and have supper on the boat, really delicious, a very young leak wrapped in a piece of ham, cheese sauce on top. Later we drank vin rose and eat spicy mussels in their shells in the Amazonas, a restaurant and we have entertaining time watching a table of Yanks off the missile tracking ship (they say they are carrying cargo?) – they are varying shapes and sizes and it is very amusing – one huge monster wearing a minute straw hat and one like Billy Bunter. They have loud voices, not offensive and eat hamburgers. Portuguese women are still fat and sallow and give me hostile looks.
Breakfast in our pension not up to our recent standards, coffee too weak and have to demand more, and rolls. The lavatory is very horrid and use large hotels instead which have individual linen towels and lavender soap. We visit Casa Inglese – it is a very long walk from our home and the nice big Portuguese in charge of the Streamback? tells us he has sent a telegram to head office requesting a cheap fare – we are sceptical but nevertheless as a result do little all day, drink coffee and read in American library – no answer to telegram and spend evening at home reading and drinking in café downstairs, outside- you get nuts and horrid yellow beans with second beer. Watch dogs.
Still no answer ? today and have hopes over Brazilian boat, French chartered calling at Matadi, Pointe-Noire, Port-Gentil and Cotonou – hope not to go to Sao Tome. We later find there is a boat to Fernando Po only once every two months so the possibility is out. We arrive at Belgian ship? Just before lunch and have large meal on Amazonas with 2nd and 4th officers and Portuguese foreman. Curried shrimps, delicious flan, all paid for. Feel sleepy all day as a result of wine and ? Tooth aches. No answer to telegram. Greasy cold tiny herrings and chips for supper. Sleep all evening. Are not in great hurry to leave, living is cheap and have plenty of books. Luanda very pleasant, it is a holiday on Friday and will go to the beach
£22 fare arranged for us – feel a shade regretful over Brazilian boat. Day spent mostly trying to change escudos for something else – have caused great trouble in Casa Inglesa, however, they are very good natured. Walk miles during the day, buy red replacement for stripy. Boat leaves at 10.30 and waits for some of the officers who arrive quite drunk and there is mild sensation when oneof the crew pours wine over a crusty old white haired man from Casa Inglesa and cop ? intervenes. They are all eventually pushed onto the boat by nice Portuguese agent. We dine in own cabin, very lavish, larger than Graziella Zita’s.
We sit at officers’ table, Captain at head. All except him are very young and it appears a gloomy boat indeed, no conversation at meals. The Captain is dreary, Scottish and has horrid hairless legs. We have a drink in the cabin before lunch and it is a strained occasion. Food is quite good, not terribly English – no cottage or fish pie or steak and kidney pudding. Supper is at 5.30 and later on make tea in own cabin out of water from the tap – delicious condensed milk. Have drink in 2nd mates cabin - he is hugely tall and scrawny. Captain sounds very unpopular and forbade spirits on board, himself a complete teetotaller. Officers seem to have disappeared one by one, going mad, ?, etc. The boat has been out 15 months – went round the world. It must be a ghastly life at sea. Ship has a lot of officers, engineers are Indians, got on at Calcutta.
Feel full of food and are getting fat. Drink with Captain. He does nothing all day except a little typing in the morning and reads novels. Sleep during afternoon. Have tea and toast at 3.30. Have terrible holes in my teeth I fear. There is constant noise of paint being taken off. The crew get up at seven and look very wild eyed and Bengali. Chief Engineer is Anglo Indian and has typical accent. It is extremely hot on this ship, my skin feels greasy and sweat all the time. Port Harcourt has apparently been bombed by Biafrans. Lagos has black out after dark and foot and mouth in UK is rampant, fortunately ponies can’t catch, only carry. Railway guards and BOAC pilots about to strike – the only thing that has caused the Captain to make conversation at table.
At 10.30 in the mornings N has coffee and I have lemon squash – brought to us in our deck chairs like very old people. Evade Captain and have drink with chief mate – have luxurious sleep in afternoon. Cold chicken for supper. Feel a bit sickly.
Waked at seven and we are in sight of Lagos and the pilot arrives and we dock with little delay. It looks very much as if we will hit the bows of the next door ship. Lots of Africans on the dock looking very Moslem like, bright flowing robes and funny little hats. Immigration not difficult but felt they could be. Captain very civil and were accompanied by a fat chap in white from Elder Dempster – him on a bicycle and spent a long time getting signed off as supernumeries – spent a long time in hot tiring traffic jam, it is a normal occurrence. Lagos seems very crowded, the women have fantastic materials and sometimes have tiny plaits sticking all over their heads like worms. There are some skyscraper type buildings – lots of little tiny shops and people everywhere, rather like India and definitely far too crowded. It is very nasty crossing the road and we become quite overwhelmed by expensiveness of hotels and are cheated we think and eventually find a tap dancer and Ghanaian singer, just back from UK and we spend the rest of the day with tremendous indecision – ride round in taxis stuck in traffic jams and go off to a rich suburb to the house of the dancer’s father – permanent secretary of Defence Secretary and the house is full of people like a hotel – there is a large round rug made of lots of poor collobus monkeys. Night spent in Riti? Hotel under the auspices of the son of the proprietor, a stern man who is unaware of our presence at 10/- a night. Spend a lot of time in bar downstairs – German beer and lots of friendly tarts, we go to bed very late and are run over by a cockroach and N gets very cross but drops off to sleep soon thereafter.
Wake feeling hot, tired and sticky after a very trying night. Had weak watery coffee with James, he dresses in mauve flowing robes, really the man’s clothes are pretty extraordinary, all tied up round the wrists etc, it must be very hot. We are put in the charge of a pale little African to get our visas from Togo Consul – all accomplished by a very long walk and filling out 3 forms each. The long road we walked down seemed very squalid and stank – peeled oranges good for ? – we very relieved to get the visa. N has a headache and we feel inordinately weary. Waste 8/- on extraordinarily hot sauce with meat and rice for lunch, we feel exhausted and write letters upstairs – we arrange to spend the night in Jahot’s apartment – a great relief. We were much affected by unpleasantness of last night’s situation. Lagos is seething with people, hundreds of thousands of ? and constant traffic jams and honking horns. We see a man outside Barclays with two black scorpions and a snake. The Nigerians appear very emotional people often, see group of people shouting and saw police hitting a poor thief with truncheons. Lots of shops with super materials. If I could sew I would buy a lot. It is a great relief to be in Jahet’s apartment – drank coffee, Kim gets high on marihuana and is very mean over it. Nervously avoid spending night on the beach. Sleep very early in clothes, Juhits father was an important man, minister for Nkrumah we think.
Leave Lagos in a large Peugeot filled with people. Sit next to an ugly African in flowing robes. We pick up a very nice Ghanaian lady who takes us under her wing. Outskirts of Lagos seem huge very crowded and dirty. Stopped continuously by police, causing great delays. Apparently, they shot a European recently, they thought he was a spy. Also spend endless time crossing borders and filling in forms. Country is equatorial and attractive later we are by the sea with palm trees. We feel exasperated by police stop in Dahomey very often they check? – stop Porto Novo where driver delivers contraband goods – there is long argument with cop who eventually is paid off. Porto Novo looks very ancient, very narrow streets. Huge headed buzzards sunning by the wall. Arrive Togo in the dark and spend night by Ghanaian border on the ground with Ghanaian lady and lots of others. Have peppermint tea and macaroni. Some boys play ludo all hours.
Get sent back to Lome for visitors permit – Lome is more progressive than Porto Novo – lots of 2 chevaux taxis. Eat foul sweet bread. The sea is very nice with big waves. Go to Accra in back of pick up truck seats being inwards and obviously uncomfortable. Very flat, quite dull country from what we could see. Truck full of ladies with huge breasts feeding very greedy children. Toll roads – very unused dual carriageway with phone booths. Approach to Accra very attractive, parks and flowering bushes, nice tree lined streets, though as we approach the centre chaos begins and get off truck into complete bedlam. Driver tries to cheat us for loading fee. Walk along very crowded streets and everyone selling something or carrying babies and found Hotel Metropole expensive with no water, decide to stay at least one night. Room not bad with fan. It is run by Middle Eastern people. We seem to be only people staying. Sleep, N goes out, buys choc quite good, not terribly cheap. Walk about at night – no street light and railway station is not encouraging, nice Middle Eastern in supermarket sends us to Avenade Hotel – too expensive, also YMCA. Walk down dark streets. Water works a little and do washing. Sardine supper. Ghanaians are quite friendly. This town smells of drains, is quite nice but too crowded.
Have Turkish coffee in little saucepan, very good. UK H. Commission not very helpful - Liberian Consul has moved. One of my top teeth is taken out and bottom one filled, for free. N goes to Liberian Embassy. Now I am waiting for him amid noisy Africans drinking beer. Don’t know where they get the money to drink so much, perhaps they live on it a week otherwise? Have bought several things, including laxative choc ? Just missed getting lost on the way back. Accra is definitely a lot nicer than Lagos. N arrived back very late having been arrested by the police. We walk to Black Square which is very impressive, by the sea and a huge sort of stadium. We watch television and drink beer which we don’t pay for.
It is all very crowded, lots of people on the streets and we catch a Merc bus to Takoradi and sit in the front – it is packed behind and we are glad to have special dispensation – it is a very slow bus, we have a puncture. The road is very good and the country very green and sometimes we are right beside the sea and there are little houses and coconut palms and boats and people with immense fishing nets. On the journey we eat masses of bread – our stop at Takoradi is very brief – get into a tiny truck facing inwards, packed very tight and highly uncomfortable. We go at great speed and disembark at a ferry, a nice fat comfortable looking lady carries our water bottle and basket. We cross and wait the other side in a tiny primitive looking village by the sea for another truck to Half Assini driven by a sly man in red shirt and he charges far too much. We bump over pot holes and wait ages in a little town and the bus fills up. The people have very negroid looking noses. The ladies hats are lovely and shiny. Most of this journey is in the dark and on getting out at Half Assini we are met by lots of ragged little boys who grab our luggage and hustled us off to the mission – an invaluable discovery. We were put into a room with one bed and a crucifix and had an ovaltiny drink and bread and jam – the Father appeared to be out till late and we slept in comfort. We were very near the sea, with coconut palms and a little village in between.
Up at six and see the Father, like Father Xmas in woolly red dressing gown. Are in great confusion over onward journey – crossing rivers, sea and roads, all information very muddled. Have European breakfast and listen to dreary chant of Mass – it is a very busy time because of the Feast of Fatima and there are lots of celebrations – football matches and processions. Are led off to the Customs who are very affable and accompany us to the border on the way we try palm wine, very ?y. Wait to cross the river in small boat, tiny village the other side and Ivory Coast were the first to thoroughly inspect luggage – then filling in immigration form is painfully slow. Go in Peugeot taxi to Aboisso - some 70 kms away through tropical rain forest – very tall and thick undergrowth and are suitably impressed, it is very jungly. Have difficulty in changing money - we are marched off by policeman who fills in the same forms as previously and we are escorted to the Catholic Mission, the Italian priest looks faintly surprised but we spend the night in a room with running water. Aboisso is quiet and sleepy, there is an attractive river with waterfall and a restaurant which we decided we couldn’t enter on account of the Catholic Mission. We eat delicious corn and see lots of French wandering around It rains heavily and we sleep all night.
See no more of the Father and catch a taxi to Abidjan, not much more than the bus. We are irritated by the constant police checks, for firearms. N waved my red knickers for discouragement. Road is very good and we sit in front – jungle away from road and see palm trees and sea – we are dropped in outskirts of town and have hot walk – Spanish Vice Consul we see on the way and we have an exhausting time. Cross bridge into centre of town which seems surrounded by river and on hills. Very unafrican, clean and modern, expensive shops and very French – the African quarter is on the outskirts – we visit the Peace Corps who are helpful and have cold water and sent us off to the German Hotel, inexpensive for this part of the world – we spend most of the day out there, reading and I do a mammoth wash, mosquito net and all. Some Germans staying – no light in the evening – we walk all the way to the town and walk along deserted streets and explore the Grand Hotel – we feel exhausted by the end – bad night on account of coffee. Nice Lebanese in shop gives us free stupid mugs. Abidjan is very expensive, as anticipated.
Spend morning in great heat finding map and things and things particularly pertaining to onward travel – read in B. Consul, finally find entrance and feel weak down to tips of fingers. We must be careful of our diet and ate corned beef for lunch as a start. We find Abidjan very nice though feel too hot climbing hills – there is a German boy out of money here who is selling watches - rather a pathetic job really. He has a fever, perhaps malaria. We buy sardines for onward journey and the nice Middle Eastern chap gives us two face clothes, very useful, much more so than the stupid mugs we had yesterday. We feel extremely hot, just no point in washing clothes so endlessly accept I have a mania. A Peace Corps boy arrived and wife and we have lots of information re cheap hotels and Peace Corps. It will be a tremendous saving and a nice rest. We think it will be impossible to get through the desert. Ivory Coast is the most prosperous country in the area. Read in the British Council and a fair boy from the British Council gave us a lift – given more time I am sure we would have been asked to dinner or to stay or something. We have found delicious nuts all stuck together on sugar sold by an old lady for only 5 cents, also beer is very cheap. Bought tiny tree tomatoes very cheaply.
We have a lift up the road in a yellow truck to where the mammy wagons leave – find a Peugeot and sit in front. Wait for ages before we leave and people try selling lots of things, we buy an apple. There aren’t much outskirts to Abidjan going that way. The country gets green very rapidly and there are coconut plantation in great symmetry – it all seems very organized. We stop at a little town and are irritated with the driver – he has his brakes repaired and we have to wait – read a soppy adventure story and N ?s and he recites at intervals. The road is very good and straight. We drive quite fast – quite a few lorries with huge trees. Our driver wears dark glasses. N can’t understand his French, he hands us over to a bus and we think we have been overcharged, not much – we are quite pleased to be travelling by bus but there is not much difference in price between the taxi. The road to Daloa is unpaved and the jungle seems much closer. The road is extremely dusty and the bus has carburettor trouble. Arrive Daloa, the third largest town in Ivory Coast – we proceed to the Catholic Mission, a large yellow church and buildings with at least three cars – the Father sitting in a group with flowing beard and we suffer a great blow and are told to go to Anglicans - obviously the place has been used too much before. We plod off to the other side. Fortunately small boys bear our luggage away into the trees and we meet the Swiss man in charge and his immense wife, about 6” taller. We are very pleased to be put into a room adjacent to the church and are faintly embarrassed though pleased that breakfast and dinner are laid on – dinner with another Swiss couple – him a carpenter in the Mission and we gobble up spam in gravy, very good rice and salad – they are a very nice couple, perhaps dull.
Lots of delicious coffee with the other couple, the wife very nice. We are given a bible and driven to the town, past the new hotel built for independence celebrations – it is held in a different town every year. We get straight on a bus - overcast and cold, faint drizzle and have a three hour journey to little village where we catch another facing inwards and uncomfortable, change again to another and have front seats – N has argument over ? Country throughout is jungly – villages very primitive, they look as it they haven’t changed for years. Very shapeless ladies. Cross a couple of quite large rivers, see canoes. Goats are very short legged and pregnant. Wait in tiny village for Peugeot to ? Are great curiosities. N buys nuts and large quantity. Some people speak a little English and come to shake hands. We are constantly shaking hands in this part of the world. Spend night on taxi drivers floor – house with no ? and very new looking – bricks drying outside made of mud. Get water out of the well with very authentic looking animal skin. The many members of the family sit around a charcoal fire. Walk around dimly lit town – see a lot of people at Muslim prayers – they wear long white and blue robes and look rather Arab. Night disturbed by mosquitoes and quite comfortable. No one bothers about us which is nice.
Members of the family get up and have unintelligible conversation with driver. Buy bread and drink bowl of really nondescript liquid probably tea. Watch little boys hurrying off to school – the old members of the family sit outside the house looking extremely old and ancient. Police fill out forms, all have different uniforms – considerably quicker than at other end of country. Big market to buy tomatoes. We feel stuffed with bread, sleepy with constipation. We go over the border in Peugeot driven by very lean elegant looking Liberian and mercifully have front seats – back looks dreadful and are anxious over luggage. Liberian border very seedy – at once we are struck by Americanism – police are patrolmen and there are signs “Welcome to – county”. It is all quite primitive even so – we see lots of Peace Corps houses with green door and ? We arrive at ?, are immediately besieged by people and small boys who bear off our luggage. Get taxi for £5 and have nightmare drive, even N is frightened. We tear along, nearly overturning in soft ground while overtaking there are lots of crashed vehicles and pass bus newly overturned – there is a very dead person in the ditch ? unbroken eggs and people picking up fruit. See a foul squirt of an immigration man – drunk. Stop frequently for petrol – the Liberians are certainly very aggressive, continually shouting and they try to charge us twice for a drink. People wear tight jeans, terrible hats, speak American, sometimes quite ununderstandable. There are lots of ?, with amricanisms, advertisements for soft drinks, motels and the shops are full of imported American food – African food is extremely expensive 10 cents for a cup of tea. We can’t imagine how they live. Our taxi is loaded down with rice sacks and crammed with people and feel even more nervous racing along in the dark – are greatly relieved to arrive at Peace Corps hostel. Surprisingly have no trouble over money. Hostel is large and clean, lots of people staying. One lady very old for Peace Corps. Meet German in supermarket who invited us to lunch. Rather nasty supper of pate and weak tea.
Buns, butter and tea for breakfast. We set out walking to the town, a long way in great humidity. We come across large modern buildings which turn out to be the executive mansion and university and we see the city and it looks like a long walk to the large buildings perched on the other side of the bay – walk down a fairly scruffy street, past shops run by Lebanese, ice cream people and over horrid drains – eventually we find Broad Street considerably smarter with more expensive shops – record shops with ghastly loud music and shops full of cheap (though expensive here) American skirts etc. Everything seems modelled on the States – the same mail boxes and mail vans. Monrovia is uninteresting and we are quite thankful there is not much to see. Begin to walk down to the beach and give up as it becomes all rather squalid and depressing so we turn and walk up to an imposing building which we couldn’t identify, later found it was Freemasons. Hurry back to the Executive Mansion area for lunch – had a very nice lunch of Chinese type rice, strong coffee. N has disastrous effect. Couple very nice, small baby, comfortable house and they make chess sets. Felt very appreciative of human comforts at that point. We walk home in hot atmosphere, buying food on the way, at prohibitive prices – we meet a boy going to Cambodia. Having read my diary for previous days, I feel it is quite worthwhile as gives ? information. We are about to eat rice and very hot chili. Two cooked meals in one day, we are doing well. At lunch today there was the son of physician to President Tubman. He is very revered here and has been in office for a long time.
A very lazy day spent reading, listening to dreadful American Xmas songs, drinking too much coffee – lie on beach – robbers? Visit the German and American people. Have pea soup. Are very hot all day. Hear again Morocco/Mauritania borders closed. Will leave tomorrow.
We have scrambled eggs for breakfast with salt and delicious grapefruit. A Peace Corps staff takes us into the town and we are very quick in the Immigration – our passports are practically filled up and we have a terrifying time when we reach the taxis bound for the north – we are surrounded by shouting people, our luggage in jeopardy and we have to use violence to get rid of them, the W? A policeman comes over. We get a small taxi which goes over the border it says and charges £10 – we nearly get out when he puts it up to £12. There is a sweet fat lady in a yellow sweater who brings her lunch on a plate. The day is grey and cool – our luggage is on top and we fear it will get wet but only a few drops of rain. The first part of the journey is duplicated and our driver is much safer than our previous one. He has his licence taken away and has to buy it back from an evil looking, gum chewing cop. The road becomes murram and we stop for toilet reasons three times during the day which is very sensible and ?ed everybody it. We stop briefly to put people out and squash more into the back seat. Pass lots of tiny villages, very naked ladies. The road worsens and the country gets less jungly – lots of palm trees and for the first time we can see the distance. Darkness comes and we get very muddled as to what we are doing for the night. There is talk of sleeping in the customs and then are borne off to a house with three American Air Force and there we spend the night – the taxi is expected back tomorrow early, we haven’t paid him £10 yet so we expect him sometime. The driver seems quite insulted we don’t leave our luggage on the taxi not surprising considering the state of Liberian morals. There is a very smelly dog here. The men in the Airforce are very true to type drinking rum and coke and the negro with a girl friend in Monrovia. Their water is brought up from there, along with cake mixes and spam – we have instant mashed potato, pears and corn and eat what appeared the most delectable cake though I am sure it is very sickly. Read book of sick sexy jokes.
After hot cakes and coffee, the taxi arrives empty and it is beautifully cool. There is very little delay at Liberian border which seems non-existent – there is a chimpanzee knocking over suitcases and the ladies seem quite scared at him peering into their baskets. We have excruciating roads on the Sierra Leone side, in the rainy season, it must be impossible. I like our taxi driver better today, he seems less evil eyed and more jolly. At the first town, we get a bus bound to Kenema and have a fairly uncomfortable day bumping around in the back with clouds of disgusting smelling dust – the SL border officials are extremely quick and nice -lots of Customs searching for diamonds which are mined in quite large quantities but showed no interest in ours and there were no police checks – bought masses of very cheap oranges and bananas. The bus made dreadfully slow progress – we crossed a river by ferry and waited there for almost two hours. Read The Bell, Iris Murdoch – very good. Some more people going to Freetown. We reach a junction and the bus goes on to Safadu? and we are in a dilemma as what to do – a Lebanese like Omar Sharif tells us to spend the night with people at Union Training College. A bumpy old truck takes us a mile up the road and we see a VSO boy on the road who invites us to his house – very large and ? and he organises us into having a bath – he is from Dorset and at times could be Keith and sounds exactly like him talking to his houseboy. Ginger cat, spam and jelly for supper. We spend the night with a Peace Corps, a very extrovert unlikely seeming negro called Denver with a minute wicked black and white kitten. We feel deathly tired.
David arrives with egg and bacon but I envy Denver his toasted bun with jam. Wait for ages on the road for lorry, do first part of journey in Toyota – not so dusty and we have front seats. Not so dusty, people plie us with oranges, very stolid buns and think we are IVO or Peace Corps and it would be embarrassing to have to disillusion them. Fortunately, we don’t have to. Have flat tyre and not the right sized spanner. We transfer to a lorry and have an extremely long and boring ride to Freetown, dark most of the way and fortunately the road is paved mostly and the truck quite fast, even so we arrive very late and find the PC hostel has room, a tremendous relief. Are quite exhausted, sleep with clothes on. People in SL are very friendly and give us oranges and bananas.
Freetown is quite a pretty place, quite relaxed and as the American boy says there is a big cedar tree and everything runs off it – he warned before of the dirt and conglomeration, obviously by people who have not been to Lagos or Accra. It seems surrounded by the sea and there are a few boats – we are excited about, lying in the harbour. The post office has massive queues and a chap keeping everyone in place. We are disappointed by the ? – Elder Dempster being full and we have a tiring day, going off to China Town, the docks and finding agencies unco-operative and one chap is just so rude we are forced to go up to the manager who is also Swedish Consulate – we are very surprised by the Streambank being in and get very worked up and meet the launch bringing in the Chief Engineer who seems acutely ill at ease when he sees us and we find the boat is going to Lome. We eventually go home, buying lettuce and tomato on the way from moving shops and discovered delicious cakes. Everyone is very worked up over Xmas and according to the nice lady in Kingsway Stores, people are in very bad tempers because they have no money and according to the papers advising a frugal Xmas – the PC hostel is run by an immensely fat lady who is continually preparing a huge Xmas feast, huge delicious cake mixtures, etc and she is unable to keep track of keys. Breakfast is bedlam and you are supposed to pay 25 cents to cook meals, We have cold supper - ? and talk to some VSOs.
Our hopes are raised and dashed by Holland Africa. We meet an extremely irritating lady in the French Embassy. Read in the B.I.S – went to the docks and get nothing out of Mr Grant, eat delicious coconut biscuits and get a 50 cent tin of red salmon without label reduced to 20 cents by highly suspicious Indian lacking in humour. There is a nice lady in UTA. We think we may be forced to fly, Wednesday being the earliest available flight. Disgusting pilchards for supper and mushroom soup. Read and bed very late
My father’s birthday. Breakfast is frustrating, miss out on cornflakes. N sleeps all morning and I do Xmas shopping and create an edible stocking. In fact N has been Father Xmas and had created a stocking as well. The day is spent in great laziness. We move upstairs because of impending party – our room is clean and nicer.
We go down to the docks and see the Lagos Palm and agent and get excited over a boat bound for Dakar and the captain is rung up but doesn’t take deck passengers – we visualise great panic going back and collecting our junk within ½ hour. However we have hopes that Lagos Palm will bunker in Dakar and is leaving on 26th. We have a waspish time getting to Lamley beach – most of the way in a _ and the beach is very attractive, nice waves, lots of Europeans, masses of PC. Sun goes in a lot. Read in the evening and eat corn beef and go to the Peace Corps doctor’s party, rather a grind, lots of P.C. and foul tasting potent punch – the ginger haired boy, Al, asked us along. The doctor, a giant who is a surf enthusiast made a pass at me for hours, N drunkenly sitting in his chair didn’t notice.
Christmas Day – Father Christmas brought three stockings, chiefly edible and hankeys and safety pins so we feast all day. Go to the beach, N falls on his tummy in the surf producing a gash. It is quite misty. We have lovely Xmas pudding and cream for supper and watch the Queens Xmas message.
An extremely tiring and trying day spent hanging round the dock – the Captain of the Lagos Palm agrees to take us – he is Polish, voluble and like a teddy bear. The agent makes many difficulties, fortunately he disappears at lunch for the day. We rush up to the French Consul and eventually find the grouchy vice consul, after much protesting he is persuaded to write a letter. The Captain is unobtainable for the next 3 hours, having lunch and sleeping - the tickets are locked up and nothing can be done until the arrival of the agent at 8pm. We sit under tree by the Customs House most of the afternoon – finally there is a frantic rush getting our luggage – the driver being unaware of our hurry and nearly stops for petrol on the way back – however we have ½ hour to spare and have the owners cabin – nicer than the Streambank’s – the captain’s green bananas in the bathroom. Have a drink with the chief engineer, an extraordinary man and would be irritating to live with.
Our room is freezing due to air conditioning – breakfast good and sleep and read all day. There seem to be masses of officers and they are all very smart and the dining room is too. Lots of Xmas decorations and there is a bar and telly set. Feel overstuffed with food. The ship carries huge logs chained on the deck. All the crew are European. The Captain has a fantastic smile.
Wake feeling seedy. Delicious hot cake and real golden syrup. We wait for a berth – it is extremely cold but sunny. From a distance, Dakar looks white and tall – quite like Abidjan. We berth next to the Orcades and the immigration take away our passports and we leave the Lagos Palm and catch an Orcades bus for the centre, very convenient. Get out at Place de Independence and weather an onslaught of Britons – go to central police, it is a wild goose chase and go to Non Logi? Which is full, fortunately are taken round the corner and find a cheap hotel, des Artistes, doesn’t live up to its name, see only a couple of seedy unshaven old French men. Find Port Police and take taxi to Mauritanian Consul – rather unpleasant looking people, huge teeth and now I see the N.Africans are quite relieved we cannot go after all. Dakar is very attractive and clean and it is sunny and quite cold. Everyone looks very Muslim and the French are here in great numbers doing menial jobs. Barbers, etc and bus drivers. Lots of blind people. See masses of people off the Orcades and lots of sailors. There are pleasant looking pavement restaurants, all highly expensive, I am sure. We have good French bread and pilchards and sleep 15 hours.
We buy delicious rolls with chocolate in the centre – the African in the British Consul is exasperating – neither the letter nor passports are ready – the Consul in the Mauritanian Embassy is very pleasant, dressed in a dark suit – it will take 10 days or more so we decide to go on a French boat on Tuesday calling at Las Palmas and Casablanca. Walk back a long way from the Embassy – there is a very new looking huge mosque. We have extremely expensive very good coffee – the system in the bank is ridiculous and taking hours, your number is called out in fact one lady has bought her knitting. I have two passports due to the inefficiency of the Consul both are valid. It gets jolly cold in the evening. Dakar looks seedy by night streets covered in filth. Make the mistake of having beer in small bar in side street – exorbitantly expensive. Dine W. Ponty much cheaper, buy Newsweek.
Our mattresses slide around and bed clothes fall off and get up very late and it is sunny and eat bread and butter. Ave W. Ponty is crowded with Saturday shoppers – the market looks like it is built out of cardboard and we reach the sea without finding coffee so turn back, pass the theatre. Find lots of books in the Peace Corps which will do a lot to better the weekend. Walk down smelly streets past lots of trucks made out of peanut tins and material shops. French keep the high class shops and Liberians in the poorer areas. Reach the sea and it is quite cold, the water and the sand quite deserted – a few shady seeming boys. Wind blows sand in our faces – we are driven home by hunger and eat bread and cheese and the old gentleman fixes our light and later on has a prolonged quarrel downstairs. Go out for beer at more reasonable price, lots of cats scavenging in dustbin.
We are waking up later and later, reverting to my old way of life, when we get back to England we will try to get up early. Wm Ponty is very busy for a Sunday, lot of shops being open. Marvellous large cups of coffee, boy at next door table is reading Daily Telegraph and nearly leaves it behind, great disappointment . N reads all day. I do domestic tasks sewing all day. Eat lots of bread and butter. Have beer and coffee, constantly pestered by people frantically trying to sell things. It is cold and windy. At midnight there is a curious noise – all the ships hooting, some cars too and a few guns – all ill timed and the wireless seems totally unaware. Lots of firecrackers, am glad not to be outside.
Get up after 11 and all day it is grey and cold, we read Herald Tribune and The Quiet American, go for windy walk to docks, eat a lot of bread. The town is quite lively for a Bank Holiday.
It is nice and sunny and we wander around all day – returning the Peace Corps books and pinching three more. Most of the time is spent on the beach and we go down to our ship “Jean Mennor”? at five. It is quite small as passenger ships go and seems almost empty. Eventually we find a way to the dormitory – it looks like the crew quarters and we are given a cabin to ourselves causing a great surprise. N has his supper – rice and lumps of not very nice looking meat. The third class is the other end of the ship, the dining room has only 7 people and sit opposite a really cranky missionary. Read. Boat leaves at midnight
The day spent in great sloth, reading and we don’t feel terribly well. N misses most of his meals, my food is very good. Its lunch at 11.30 and supper at 5.30. The missionary does not proselytise but is fairly tedious and the Lebanese says little. We sleep and feel extremely weedy. I feel quite rough at the end of the boat and it is quite dirty and N sees a rat, there is a cat
Spend day sleeping and reading – it is increasingly cold and horrible outside. Food is quite good and the missionary is fairly tedious.
Arrive Las Palmas very early and it is grey and overcast and we set off to the middle of the city which seems surrounded by grey looking Scottish hills. All the population is Spanish and drab – little men with berets and stolid looking women, all ? and dreary – the shops seem dreary too, full of ?, etc – little side streets run into the hills and are uninteresting. Undoubtedly would be nicer if the sun were out – along the sea front there are lots of desiccated old things with horrid fat stomachs, swimming and playing on the beach and lots of Swedes, very fair indeed and lots of menus are in Swedish and it is widely spoken – some Germans. It is very depressing being in a mass of people with nothing better to do all day than just wander up and down. Search for a cheap place to eat, after one hour of walking find the first place we saw which is typical behaviour for us. Very oily meal. N refuses to go into endless ? and we get very cross. Walk into edge of town and see some desert like sand. Buy Newsweek and post cards, see boats landing boxes of tomatoes. The Spanish look dreary here, hope they won’t be like that in Spain. Ship leaves at six – find they have locked in the 4th class and find my way to 3rd class under the ship, up through 2nd class dining room causing great consternation among the waiters.
Day spent in sleep and acute boredom. We have large appetites. N has beans and greasy meat. I have tripe. Lots of the waiters are of Vietnamese origin. Pale with Vietnamese features. N has my pudding at supper, really just a piece of bread with things on top. Quite calm all day.
We get off the ship very early, it is invaded by lots of dubious looking Moroccans all wearing their strange long garments with hoods and they look extremely sinister. It is bright and sunny though cold and it is not far to the centre of the town. As it is early Sunday morning it is very empty and it does not take long to find Hotel Lafayette. The cleaning lady lives up to the Peace Corps description – she is very nice and finds us a slightly cheaper room at the back. Ahmed the boy, obviously has been woken up by our arrival. The place is very empty. It costs 20 cents for a shower. Coffee is quite expensive in Casablanca. There are lots of side walk restaurants. It appears to be an extremely large place and is very white like its name. The centre is really a large square called Mohammed V and there are lots of streets running off it – one especially wide where all the hotels and airlines are etc. We spend a lot of the day in the bazaars, some cater exclusively for tourists, selling carpets and things made from leather which are too ornamented for our taste, also whole sheep skins with tails and heads. Off the main street there is a mass of narrow cobbled streets, shops either side. We spent a long time buying lovely leather boots - £3/15 unfortunately now they pinch and so far are unwearable. We had lovely bread and butter for lunch. We walked round the clothe shops, things are not extremely cheap. It got colder and colder towards the evening. The people are not as tiresome as one is led to believe – we are not pestered by people selling things and are unable to find any hashish. Lots of women are in purdah but they are in a minority and the men aren’t very trying. We are very fortunate finding a very good and comparatively cheap place for supper, four course, crème caramel for pudding and delicious escalope of veal with chips and green beans. It is too cold to walk around very much though lots of people do and they sit outside drinking coffee. We go to bed early.
Now we are in the cold weather, we sleep a long time and find it unpleasant getting out of bed. The water is icy and it is a sunny day. We go to the First National City Bank and see lots of men queueing on the pavement, perhaps for work. ? d’? is a few minutes walk into a slightly cheaper area where we have coffee. I have lots of letters – N one only and a Xmas card from H.W. We see lots of dates on sticks, walnuts, and tangerines and figs and eat delicious doughnuts and seedless, very juicy tangerines. We go into the middle of the town and go to the AA where we get a free map of France, also the Tourist Information. There are lots of smart people about today and some expensive cars, we saw an E type Jaguar. The leather in the shops is very expensive and we discover most of the bags in the bazaar are imitation – we see a nice bag but it is quite expensive. N gets a black windcheater in part payment for the whisky – the people espy the bottle in the basket and it is a relief to get rid of it; it is very heavy. An old man with a very magnificent long blue pipe gives us a smoke of hashish in the back room of a little shop and a little boy goes off to get us some and a pipe which is very inferior to the one we saw - we smoked in our room before supper. I felt slightly sick, N was unaffected. Delicious supper again, it went too fast. N goes off for a brisk walk. I am too cold. I have a nightmare, very vivid, I see a man walking through the room and we are very frightened and N is very brave and locks the door and window. It must be the result of hashish – we have bad sleep.
It is grey and overcast and we wake late. We go to the bank and P.O. and say goodbye to the nice cleaning lady. The bus station is very antiseptic and the bus rather similar to Greyhound. We sit at the back. Most of the passengers are middle class, not surprising as it is an extremely expensive ticket. In charge of the bus is a rather waspish old man who has a passion for picking up pieces of paper and shuts all the windows. Once out of the factories etc, the road is quite fast and straight – very green unexpectedly, we see horse and camel, small hump ,?ing side by side, lots of large woolly sheep, ponies and donkeys and trees laden with oranges and lots of empty cars so feel rather frustrated as we could have hitched quite easily and are pleased not to have stopped in Rabat – it looks quite uninteresting though quite attractive, a wall round it overlooking the sea. There are very old looking buildings around, more old than we saw in Casablanca – the sea has huge waves and the country gets bleak and dull and grey, all of it cultivated. See some lines of donkeys going home at the end of the day and I suppose these long cloaks people wear keep them warm – their houses must be very cold. Toward Tangier there are hills and the sun sets over the sea and it is very attractive. Stop at a very pretty town, very Spanish and white on the sea. It is dark when we arrive and find a chap, rather sly I am sure, who takes us to Hotel Madrid, cheaper then Casa and extremely clean. We walk round the town – very hilly and lots of shops for tourists and people pestering us even selling LSD. It is difficult to see much of the town in the dark. We have a very ample meal in a little restaurant near our hotel – lots of veg and chunks of meat and a bonne salad. People drink tea out of funny silver pots. We buy the Times.
Wake at 9.30 and have very energetic time up and down the cobbled hills and wooden arches etc, discover huge British Consul and smart new part of town on top of hill. Suffer from icy winds. N has hair cut. Have coffee at midday, see beatnik tourists and are pestered by countless small boys. Walk to the ferry, it is chaos with customs but we leave very promptly at 3.10. Some people are searched quite thoroughly. Sit in green chairs and freeze on the ferry. Arrive at Algeciras at about six, we lose an hour and KB is examined by the Customs. Walk miles looking for a pension. Some of the women look suspiciously at us and say they are full, walk back toward the sea and find a very clean new looking place painted white with a fat nice lady. The town is on hills and very orderly compared with Tangiers, the people seem extremely pale and all quite smartly dressed. Shoes are very cheap. Eventually find meal for 50 pts, delicious escallop again but we are upset to see another place for 40pts. We see Gibraltar with lots of lights at the bottom of the rock. Go to bed very early, plan getting up at seven.
It is dark when we get on the ferry and the sun takes ages to come up. Gibraltar looks very attractive. The ferry is quite small and all the commuters look rather drab but drink a lot of brandy and coffee. We see an English policeman standing on the quay, however the officials we dealt with appeared to be Anglo-Spanish - Gibraltar looks a very old town, narrow hilly streets and old archways. Masses of English things in the shops, comparatively cheap. It looks as if there are lots of English residents, family of the navy presumably. Got very excited over a shop with a sale in progress – 15/- skirts but they turn out to be huge for matronly women. We nearly buy a purple and white wool dress and in another shop find one just right dark ? and green and really very nice. We get it reduced to £3/10. We walk quickly through some of the streets. You can go to the top of the rock by cable car, it must be quite nice. We wished we had had steak and kidney pie for 4/6 however we hurried off, over a huge runway to the border and on the other side see very menacing pill boxes built by the Spanish and saw some British fighting aeroplanes taking off. The Spanish Customs were quite thorough. They search bodily all the Spaniards coming in. See lots of foreign cars parked and hope some of the owners come back in time to give us a lift, however, we walk an extremely long way through straggly village – at last a chap with a poor Alsatian recently bitten by a snake picks us up and takes us to Marbella – the road along the coast is very pretty, the sea very blue but it is being developed for tourists and there are huge white hotels and very expensive looking shops and restaurants. See a few peasants, donkeys etc. We wait quite a long time in Marbella, finally a prosperous, quite young Dane with beard and family give us a lift to Torremolinos? – he was on a 2 month holiday and gave us each an orange and drove us to the outskirts of the town. See very expensive English cars and quite a few German, etc. A rich Spaniard take us for the last 10 miles and we arrive in Malaga about 4 pm – the Spanish roads are not good and quite dangerous, very twisty and narrow. Malaga is quite large, mostly very old. N had the idea to get onto the Grenada road as much as possible so we set off to find a pension the other side of the town and fail and have to walk most of the way back. Get a room with icy water right at the top of the house, find a very old crone washing the stairs. Old Spanish ladies are very frail and pathetic looking and of course are perpetually in black. I expect they are stronger than they seem. We decide not to have supper, eat bread with masses of butter. I do some washing. Read the Times. Go out about 8.20 for short walk and have extremely lethal coffee. Have very bad night. The streets are seething with people in the evening. Buy expensive ?
The light doesn’t come in so do not wake till a lady turns on the light and rattles the door. Walk all the way out of the town, very fast, race up the hill glowing with health and quite soon a Renault picks us up with a hotted up engine driven by a man with sideburns, a wife with dyed hair and he talked exceedingly fast, there was no hope of understanding it. We swished round corners, up and down hills, through the Sierra Nevada and there were marvellous views of Malaga and the sea and one saw lots of whitewashed buildings perched on rocks and peaks, some quite large houses. The white makes them look very picturesque where they would look just drab if left brown. The hillsides are covered with neat lines of small trees and maybe olives ? trees to make the soil fertile instead of sandy. The sky is very blue, few people about, some mules eating things and ploughing. The curves at times seem quite dangerous. I feel a bit sick. We leave the mountains and reach Grenada, pass lots of tall thin trunked trees – it does not seem as large as Malaga and seems smoky. Get onto the Jaen road where we wait 4 hours in varying places along the way – get very gloomy and are passed by lots of deux chevaux, lorries, Renaults and some large foreign cars. Strings of mules carrying enormous loads of hay go by. When hope has nearly diminished and the shadows are becoming longer a little white Renault takes us by surprise. I am eating bread and butter. The country becomes ? and ? in the distance. Car skids on a hill and it is discovered we have a puncture. The driver who has thick grey hair and leather boots turns out to be either a cattle farmer or dealer, drove on a few miles till it gets really bad and changes the wheel – it is beyond repair. We have coffee and arrive in Jaen before dark. Again it is a smokey town, in the mountains. We find a pension run by a little white coated man who is very anxious to please and we feel we can’t disappoint him by eating elsewhere even though his meal is not so cheap and the meat a bit tough. Delicious broad bean omelette. We will bear it in mind. Cold outside. Go into several shops having sales – bags are too expensive – shoes we must buy as they are a third of the English price and good too. Go to bed early.
The funny little proprietor gives us coffee and we walk off down the hill, see mules loading concrete and we see there is white frost. A chap in a little Renault takes us about 20 kms and the little town we are dropped in is much colder than Jaen. We are dropped at the beginning, very unimaginative of the driver who is very untalkative and walk feeling icy to the far end. A rather humourous little chap in a 2 chevaux takes us to ? where the main road from Cordoba comes in – 2 Chevauxs bounce all over the road. We are dropped off in an extremely good place and wait about half an hour watching smelly lorries and fast cars and dogs crossing. A French car stops, Peugeot and in it are two very massive Algerians who are on their way to Paris and they drive extremely fast – we pass all the cars that went by us. The country alternates between very flat and hilly. It is really looking quite arid. The outskirts of Madrid are very widespread and the traffic gets heavier, we see very tall, square apartment buildings and arrive in the centre and set off immediately for the P.O. which is immense and very splendid and seems very efficiently run – a letter from my mother. The rest of the day spent fruitlessly looking for a pension – we wander about for hours feeling very grey when finally we find somewhere – a huge old house with immense staircase. We have bread and butter and sleep.
Madrid is very impressive, enormously wide streets, places with statues and fountains, immense, very grand old buildings, masses of very wintry looking trees, big parks. It would be lovely if it were spring or summer. We are staying right in the centre, near one of the five railway stations, quite near the P.O. There are lots of people around for a Sunday morning drinking coffee and cognac. We visit the outside of the Prada and the P.O poste restante is open 9-12 on Sundays. We walk along some of the main streets past very expensive shops of shoes and antiques and equally expensive people. I am a spectacle in my thongs. We have a meal at 3pm – at a restaurant near us, there is a family of spoilt children sitting next to us. We have soup ¼ ? and breaded meat, very good. We can’t get used to the hours the Spanish keep – the restaurants in the evenings don’t open until 8.30 and by then we are starving. There is a nice bun lady near us. The streets near our pension are very narrow and hilly. Old ladies walk up and down in their slippers We discover a nice bar near us, very jolly people behind the counter and we have camerones, rather tasteless and beer, which turns out very cheap and tortilla espanola, very delicious. There is great activity of meals being served in our pension at 4.30? Nicholas has had ?
Letter from N’s mother which is a relief but nothing from Franc but we are not very upset. We set off to buy shoes in the cheap area and guess accurately where the cheap area is. In fact there are lots of shoe shops getting progressively cheaper and we buy without too much difficulty, a very innocuous leather pair for about 18/-. Of course my feet are pinched but anything would. We have coffee and cognac to celebrate and buy N a pair of green corduroy trousers which he wears later in the morning. We wander around choosing empty sides of streets and look for a map of Europe. The streets don’t seem busier on a weekday than Sunday. “? A whole new era” reads the Observer and had delicious Spanish omelette and liver for supper. N makes hot water work.
Up earlier than recently and it is cold and nasty. The bank is extremely archaic, very old with lots of bored looking men doing nothing and a very old man in charge – the process of cashing a five pound note took a very long time. Lovely donuts, ? though terribly expensive, I thought it was the ? breakfast. Catch the train, travel 2nd class in warmth and comfort. The outskirts of Madrid this time seem nearly non existent and see lots of really sordid little houses and people working. Walk a long way though, typical Spanish with a church on a hill. Very red mountains in the distance. A young lady drives about 45 miles – a hair raising adventure – she is obviously still a novice and nearly ran into a Renault and then overtaking a lorry. We watch large Zaragoza and Barcelona cars pass. An extraordinary little man delivering a Renault telephone van, running in and he shrieked away in Spanish, prodding N on the knee, singing very loudly and perhaps he is a little unhinged. After a stop for his lunch, we continue on to Zaragoza, climbing mountains and sometimes driving quite fast – we keep on seeing Veterano Osborne, a huge very magnificent black bull perched on lots of hills perhaps advertising brandy. Arrive Zaragoza in the dark, it seems very large and have a very frustrating time finding pension, they are full of university people. Encounter a truly horrible, fat old man who offers us a room for 120 – eventually a nice boy from Colombia took pity on us and walked round to the pension area. We have egg and potatoes and expensive seeming tea – it is misty and very cold. Sleep badly.
Woke up quite late, it gets light so late it is pitch dark till eight. It is bitterly cold and we have those funny ?o things for breakfast, fried fat fingers. Take a tram to the outskirts of the town, over a bridge and ? looking river. Wait a few moments until a pig like man stops and we go with him to Lleida about midway to Barcelona. We climb over misty hills, past herds of lanky shaggy sheep and the sun it trying to come through. There is a hold up, the load has spilled of a truck. Trucks overturn quite often. Driving is very slow in Spain because of the umpteen trucks groaning up the hills. I get icy cold and my morale is low all day. Walk through Lleida, have an icy time waiting by a gas station. We have a couple of short lifts – waiting for ages each time . Spend hours near a hotel with thousands of trucks outside, they irritate us by turning right by us and are surprised when one takes us all the way to Barcelona – a tremendous relief and are getting quite warm by the time we arrive. Spanish police dashing in their uniforms. Don’t see much of the city – find a pension with funny old people in it – walk round and round the same streets looking for cheap supper, just as we are about to buy bread and butter and give up find a cheap looking place and have cazuele, not like Ricky’s mother at all – just macaroni with a piece of sausage in it – and good steak. Sit for hours, share ½ bottle of wine and it slightly affects on empty stomach – watch very greedy kitten begging at every table and ? drunk on our wine.
It is very cheering to find Barcelona appreciably warmer. Go to the bank, they are much quicker than last time. Have seen regrettably little of Barcelona. Catch bus to Bardolino but get off it too soon and walk miles past ? looking buildings and people and through the town itself, very narrow streets and are feeling desperate when an English speaking person in a van stops and takes us some miles, not many. It is a very built up area, hopeless for lifts, by the sea. Have very short lifts all day – a funny old chap in an Austin van who has funny pronunciation and had been to England – he is going to an abbatoir in Gender? And drives us through the town and we have lunch with him in the abbatoir canteen. We pay 45 ptas each for a good meal, orange coloured rice with a large mussel and salad with olives and sausage with camarones, an enormous orange and coffee. We feel extremely full. Are given money by the funny old man, he has very weird English words. Stand out on the road again, a lorry, quite a small one and the driver seems very interested in Australia. Start to climb over the Pyrenees, see larger snow covered mountains. By the time we arrive at the border it is extremely windy, really icy. Climb up and up and wait being nearly blown over on top of the mountain and fortunately are quickly collected by a little car with all our luggage, it is filled to over capacity. We whiz down the hills and arrive at Perpignan in the twilight and are deposited at the Y H , a large white house in trees in the middle of the city. The warden is a terrible homosexual man in a black polo necked sweater and makes N pay for his subscription. We are very angry. We have to pay to use a stupid sheet. The place is full of singles. Have a nice hot shower and have soup, asparagus, meet a Canadian and Australian. Don’t sleep on coffee.
Get up 7.10, it is getting light. Have coffee with milk for breakfast, leave by 8.00 – walk a long way out of the town, put N’s sleeping bag in a ditch. Later in the day put the water bottle in a field. Get a succession of trucks and cars. Make quite good progress bypass Montpelier and N?s quite large towns and they would be difficult to get out of. France is very brown, quite attractive with neat rows of funny pruned trees. We see nice houses surrounded by evergreens. All the villages are very tidy with lots of little shops and it all looks very rural. The day becomes grey and wintry. Wait in a grey little village which seems quite off the beaten track with a dog in a garden until two Algerian born Frenchmen stop, they have the largest Alsatian we have ever seen. Hang around waiting for one of them for ages and arrive at Arles to find l’augerge de jeunesse closed – immediately we get a lift to Marseilles from a very elegant ?ing Frenchman who drove excessively fast. He finds us the Y.H. after a lot of trouble – it is perched on a hill and is an immense, old looking house. A lot of Canadians. Disgusting sausage in soup. Black and white cat in the kitchen. We feel tired and go early to bed. Funny shower with a chair. Meet a horrible lady in a shop. The French are more civil than I expected, except shop ladies.
Awake simultaneously, it is very frosty and walk out of Marseille. We are on the outskirts already. Arrive at Nice about 2.00 pm having had lots of little lifts, one long one in a Citroen. Snowy mountains in the distance. The Riviera is very attractive and the sea blue. Very twisty road and we go through Monaco, it all looks extremely expensive and we see a Rolls Royce, PG4 Are driven by two very irresponsible youths to Mentone and drive up an extremely steep hill to the YH, a very new place with a marvellous view of the sea etc. It is closed. We spend afternoon in the town, it is full of old people and quite old. There’s a fun fair, poor fish in a tank waiting to be caught. Its quite cold, meet a horrid lady in a shop, we find a nice lady to buy potatoes from. Have a picnic on the beach, delicious biscuits. There are two south Africans and a Canadian in the YH and a tiny striped kitten. It gets progressively colder. Read the Times. A French girl arrives.
Have porridge for breakfast. The pere d’auberge is very fussy and looks in the saucepans before we go. Walk down the steps, there are tangerine and orange trees in the garden. Buy two oranges. It looks very Sunday morning. Some dogs and elderly people out for walks. Reach the border, there is a stream of cars with skis. Walk through a tunnel and are picked up by a disabled Swiss who drives us right to the middle of the city – one of the innumerable towns along the coast. After the smart French places the first Italian place looked a bit seedy – middle aged men, very Italian with carefully brushed hair. It is a very difficult place to get lifts – we manage quite well even though it is a string of endless towns – the scenery is very beautiful becoming more mountainous – a very voluble lady with three houses gives us a lift, singing away two chefs take us all the way to Genoa – they stop for lunch and buy us a box of lovely sweeties – the autostrada is only for a few miles and all the roads on very high bridges in Genoa is very spectacular, winding round and round. Stand in a screaming wind and a rich English speaking man with three cars picks us up and we whiz along to Milan, climbing mountains and going through tunnels – it becomes misty and definitely colder. We stop at a very luxe restaurant for coffee, arrive in Milan just before dark and the cathedral is extremely impressive. Take a very new looking tube to ? Square, emerge in great cold and the YH, extremely big and modern is not far away. Pasta and soup for supper. A Japanese is there.
Delicious porridge for breakfast. It is extremely cold and frosty and fortunately we are picked up by 9.00 am just as we are beginning to freeze , a little man with a very Roman nose stopped - we didn’t know where he came from. He took us just outside Verona on the autostrada – there are a lot of factories, etc on the way and not much else, just the road. There are some snowy mountains. Stop for coffee which is drunk at great speed. Delicious cappuccino. Watch police waiting by a hedge on the autostrade. A VW with a rather pansy looking man stops with elderly lady and we go all the way to Venice – evening in the bus station and N plucks up courage to ring up Aldo Izzo who is in bed with flu but invites us to supper just the same [Aldo was the captain of the ship that took us from San Fransisco to American Samoa]. The remainder of the day is spent walking about finding St Marks Sq, a faintly depressing spot. Venice is nice though – no cars and ? canals and little bridges ??? I am a spectacle indeed with sandals and no socks. Find our way to the YH – a little one with a nice man in charge along with an immense Canadian family we are let in early and sit. We make ourselves very respectable for Aldo I – a fairly ? evening waiting hours in the cold by the boat station due to misunderstanding and Aldo is as curious as ever, his wife is obviously very senile and he grunts at her occasionally. Race back and arrive 2 hours late, are just giving up hope when the pere aubergist lets us in.
Get off to a late start, take a trolley bus over the water to outskirts. It is cold and an icy wind comes when anything comes past, almost instantly we are picked up by an English speaking Italian researching in engineering in a white Triumph who takes us practically the whole way to the border – another very suave English speaking chap takes us over the border and it is all very smooth and we don’t even have to get out of the car. Have huge delicious doughnut and Turkish coffee which they drink in Yugoslavia sometimes with lovely cream on top. The country is exceptionally pretty, mountainous, lots of valleys and farmhouses and villages. A school master takes us to Ljubljana and it gets snowy the higher we go. Ljubljana is very cold, people in huge coats, fur hats and Russian looking and the buildings are large, solid and rather sombre, its foggy and we spend the rest of the day finding Franc’s parents – complete lack of communication and spend the night with them in a freezing bedroom. His sister is very round and jolly and takes charge when she comes in, before that we sit for ages having eaten fried eggs.
Shop in the big dept store and buy a luminous red windcheater among other things. Very good lunch of breaded chicken. Franc’s father is a dreadful colour and has an alarming wheeze. Am given a white woollen hat. Start off for Jesenice, climbing all the way and it starts snowing – huge iron mills which look very forbidding . Franc is waiting and greets us rather formally. Catch bus for Kranjska Gora , the ski resort 20miles further on and we find a hotel for one night with a lovely boiler thing in it. My cold is getting worse Eat rather disgusting sausage.
My cold is bad, the morning is spent in finding a place to stay, are sent down the road to Podgorny to a horrid fat lady in black who is unco-operative. Finally spend the night in a dormitory in a little farm house. My cold feels appalling. N skis in the afternoon. N and Franc in the evening. Eat sauerkraut and sausage. The restaurant place is bedlam, very badly organised.
Day spent skiing. Walk sideways up hills and slide down. There is another lady like me who goes very slowly. I find it quite frightening. N goes on the ski lift a few times. Get quite exhausted. Lovely choc milk. Mountains are very attractive. No Franc. Have drink in hotel.
Very crowded because of the weekend. I am very feeble, I am afraid. Find Franc at lunch looking very fit. In the evening have delicious dinner in Jesenice at the club of the steel mill and endure an extremely boring 4 hours when everyone speaks Yugoslav, slightly improved by delicious apple strudel and Gideon , a BBC detective on the television. Franc’s fiacee is very nice, a natural sort of lady. Arrive home after one am.
Get up late, a lovely sunny day. N tries ski lift, further down the road and breaks a ski for which he is charged 16/6. Meet Franc and N goes up ski lift till quite late. My cold gets worse – soup with funny bits in it for lunch. Wash greasy blue sweater. Write letters. Eat bread and butter. Stay in all evening.
We get up extremely late and have a large meal of saurkrout and meat and have an energetic day on the slopes. N hurts himself. There is a very dark boy in our dormitory. Have beer and coffee in one of the hotels nearby. It is quite poor looking.
Decide to leave tomorrow. Much warmer and very sunny. Our portages? Cost 10/6. Ski a little. Fell off the bloody lift. Give skis and boots in. Eat lovely chocolate. Franc arrives quite late in new trousers and shoes. We decide he is disturbed. N has to eat vile, black blood sausages. We think he is getting my cold. He is reading book about Sukarno. We will try to leave early in the morning.
Because of N’s sore throat we debate whether to leave and decide to. By ten we are off, it is very bright and sunny and we have delicious ? and coffee and walk up the hill toward the border, it is a steep hill and fortunately a Yugoslav couple pick us up and we reach Vienna by dark, being very fortunate in getting a Lancia driven badly by a rich boy. We finally arrive at a big hostel, full of screaming kids. Have delicious apple thing for pudd.
Day spent in the city, very cold. Go to a lovely coffee house.
Reach Munich with no trouble, Bavaria country very pretty, unable to get further on. It starts raining. Spend night in expensive pension near station, ? the South African lady.
Very lucky in finding 2 GIs to take us all the way back in VW and in great squash. Very excited. Spend night in huge bed in Antwerp.
Back in England
NJH History
This was started in a notebook when and just after I was in Alaska. Today, August 2022 is an attempt to vastly expand it starting at birth and going to now
Start
End
24.11.1937
Born with twin Anthony who died shortly after
C1938 to c1945
Loudhams Wood Lane, Chalfont St Giles, Bucks
I observed the towed gliders overhead en route to the invasion of France. Left St Nicholas’s School “due to a problem”. Went to house where Grandfather used to live and had tuition with a girl there.
C1946
Pathway House, Copperkins Lane, Amersham, Bucks
On the Green, Chesham_Bois, Bucks. A very small house, intended I think to be either temporary or a “2nd home”
Ryecroft, Jordans, Bucks. A village built after the 1st world war by and for Quakers who were pacifists. A few still left
Gregories Road, New Beaconsfield, Bucks
1945 Summer term
1947 Spring term
Melbreck pre prep boys boarding school. Tilford, Farnham, Surrey. V small, only about 30 pupils. Aged about 7 to 9
1947 Summer term
1951 Spring term
Summerfields prep boarding school, St Leonards on Sea. It acted as if it were a prep school only for boys going to Eton and was very snobbish. The headmaster, Mr Barber, intended his son, Hilary, to take over on his retirement but this failed, as Hilary, who taught when I was there, was reported by old boys when they were at Eton, to have sexually misbehaved to them. When a few years later, Sarah and I were in the area and visited, we learned that as a result, it had been closed!
1951 Summer term
1955 Summer term
Wellington College, Berkshire. In Combermere “dormitory”. I was academically weak eg didn’t graduate to a university. RSM (senior cadet) in the CCF and probably the only instant of an RSM not being a “school prefect”. An anomaly was that my mother was a quaker and therefore a pacifist. Being sent to Wellington was in itself a little odd but possibly because it was only about 30 miles from home at a time of petrol rationing.
1955 Autumn
Failed to my disappointment to have to do National Service due to eyesight. I wanted to do it as I had no career thoughts. It definitely would not have been followed by regular forces unlike many others at Wellington.
5.2.1956
4.1961
Articled clerk with Spicer & Pegler followed by qualification Feb 1961 as Associate Member of Chartered Accountants
4.1961
6.1961
Committee of 100 office in Finsbury Park. Member.
6.1961
8.1961
Beaulieu Jazz Festival, “Organiser”.
8.1961
26.9.1961
Berlin (hitched with Renate Wien and arrived the night the Berlin Wall went up 13.8.61). Then hitched to Yugoslavia
26.9.1961
14.12.1961
Worked for Committee of 100 in London then organising demonstrations in Oxford and Manchester
A warrant was issued for arrest of me and 4 or 5 others for “inciting” people to break the law. We were released on bail for ages. I wrote to the Met telling them I was going abroad (ie, in fact, that I was jumping bail although a date for the trial had not then been set). The others came up for trial while I was in Moscow and they were jailed for ?3 or 6 months. On my return from Moscow where I was at a huge so called Peace Conference, I contacted the Met and was tried and of course expected the same treatment as the others. However, perhaps because the Chairman of Sessions (judge) was much criticised in the press for letting some demonstrating League of Empire Loyalists off with a fine since, I was only fined.
1.1.1962
28.6.1962
Accountant at Corgi Books, Ruislip
29.6.1962
30.7.1962
Hitched London to Helsinki, train to Moscow, conference in Moscow. Heard Khrushchev speak in the Palace of the Soviets, Met Yuri Gagarin. Expelled with free train ticket provided by Soviet Union, to Helsinki. Hitched from Helsinki via Germany to Calais where I was met by police who said I was not obliged to go with them although there was a warrant out for my arrest. Rang Met police from Jordans. They welcomed my offer to report to them the next day.
30.7.1962
9.8.1962
Jordans, court hearing 9th, postponed with a date fixed
9.8.1962
27.8.1962
To Spain with Sally Stiff. Stayed in Tarragona. Started to hitch back to London to meet date for case. Lift out of Barcelona was with wealthy air force general and Belgian Count. The air force general turned round and put us up at the best hotel in Barcelona saying he would provide free air tickets from Barcelona to UK He was to take us both to Majorca but it seemed the flight there didn’t have room for me when the time came so Sally went alone with him..
27.8.1962
5.9.1962
Jordans. Court hearing when I expected to be given the same sentence (6 months?) as the other 2 or 3 who had been jailed even though they had not jumped bail as I had in going to Moscow. Unexpectedly I was fined so went immediately to Paris with Sally
5.9.1962
11.9.1962
Paris with Sally
11.9.1962
14.9.1962
Hitched on own from Paris to Berne
14.9.1962
5.10.1962
Job. washing up in Hotel National, Berne
5.10.1962
7.10.1962
Hitched to Amsterdam where I was to help organise an anti-nuclear demonstration, Stayed in a hostel in the Kloveniersburgwal
7.10.1962
8.11.1962
Job, stacking up bottles in Lucas Bols Distillery, Amsterdam,
9.11.1962
28.11.1962
Job, washing large dishes, Hotel Krasnnapolski, Amsterdam
1.12.1962
19.12.1962
Hitched with Jenifer Thomson to Berlin, Then to Paris where she was taken off train at Gare du Nord by police to US Embassy on kidnap suspicion then released when they spoke to her mother in Pennsylvania and she told them I has ok, Ferry to UK
19.12.1962
30.12.1962
Jordans, Xmas with Jenifer who then returned to US
1.1963
3.1963
Broad Services Ltd in City of London
3.1963
3.1963
Skiing Austria, then failed jobhunting Munich
4.1963
5.1963
Wrapping books with Sally Stiff at Calder & Boyars who had just succeeded in winning case to publish a US book banned in UK (? Last Exit to Brooklyn)
5.1963
5.1963
US visa delayed due to criminal history but eventually issued. Flew Canada, NYC, Philadelphia (staying with Jenifer), Job, Manpower inc delivering spex etc
6.6.1963
22.8.1963
Jack & Jill Ice cream two routes
28.8.1963
29.8.1963
Busses to March on Washington, then to NYC
Flat with Franc 99th St West side. Lawrence Temp agency
Maine Lafrenze, insolvent client on Long Island. Bad reference from Spicer & Pegler
1963/4
Met and then stayed with Jane, Maxine White and Richard Burley ? 83rd St on East side.
1.4.1964
16.4.1964
Driveaway car with Richard, NYC – Birmingham, Ala. Bus hitch to New Orleans
Driveaway car New Orleans to San Diego, S Cal with Richard and Paul . Stayed in motel courtesy of Paul’s gay friends then bus? to Los Angeles with Richard then bus to San Fransisco
May 1964
May 1964
Drove “Driveaway” pick-up truck San Fransisco to Fairbanks, Alaska with Richard and Sarah Newton whom Richard had met the previous day and who had said she wanted to come along. This was when N first met her. On first day, Sue Jackson came along. Met Albert Hipple on his scooter in Yukon. We met Albert on several occasions later, including staying in his NYC flat on way to Florida and UK
May 1964
C Sept 1964
College (just outside Fairbanks) Nadco, Tanana Trailer Sales (Alaska Airlines) in trailer with Richard and Sarah. Bought Ford Anglia, drove it to Arctic Circle. Bought shares in Alaska Airlines
C Sept 1964
1965
Drove Ford Anglia with Sarah from Fairbanks to California, then north to Canada, Saw Queen on her visit to Ottawa, then NYC staying in Albert Hipple’s flat with his girlfriend (prostitute). Worked Hermitage Knitwear, Sarah with lawyers Revis & McGrath
Drove Ford Anglia to Tampa Florida to seek route over Atlantic, sold car
Cargo boat Tampa to ?Rotterdam with Sarah
Dec 1964
May 1965
Xmas in Jordans
8 May 1965
8 May1965
Married Chelsea Old Church
Honeymoon Scotland
cIuly 1965
July 1965
Queen Mary to NYC, also on board, Maxine’s mother Virginia,
July 1965
Nov 1965
11th St Lower East Side, NYC, Sarah worked for lawyers Revis & McGrath. N mainly in the Bronx incl 9.11.1965 when there was a famous black-out in NYC and beyond
2 Dec 1965
4 Feb 1968
US round the world to England, covered in Sarah’s diaries here. Some of Yellow highlighted sections below can be deleted in due course
Nov 1965
Bought US car, drove, Xmas Mexico, then Guatemala. El Salvadore, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica. Sold car in Panama to GI, one of several we met on the beach who put us up as they said our sleeping in car on beach was not safe.
1966
San Blas trading boat from Colon, Panama, to San Blas Islands where we were dropped unexpectedly. English speaking captain of St Andres Island trading ship told us no boats went from our island to Colombia for several months. He took us to a close island and persuaded the captain of a boat said to be smuggling coconuts (a “Bungay”) to take us to Cartagena, Colombia.
From Cartegena, went to Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia by trains and buses, then hitched from N. Chile to Santiago. Worked in British Council and stayed first with couple we had met in NYC – Paul and ? Then David Spedding a friend of Sue Jackson He was obsessed with James Bond films and later became Head of MI6.
Train Santiago Buenos Aires. Trains and buses Uruguay, Paraguay, Rio de Janeiro, Belem
Small Dutch trading boat from Belem to New York via port in SE USA
Driveaway car NYC to Los Angeles.
Passengers on US? Cargo boat LA to Pago Pago, American Samoa. Trading boat to Apia, Samoa, Flew to Fiji, passenger boat to Aukland, hitched round NZ. Passenger boat Aukland to Sydney.
Worked for Coopers & Lybrand. Hitched to Darwin. Flew or boat to Dili, Dutch Timor. Hitched, bus and walked to Indonesian Timor border and on to Kupang capital of Indonesian Timor. Boat to Surabaya. Hitched etc to Bali where very ill. Then to Jakarta, Singapore, Bangkok. Flew to Calcutta via Rangoon where delayed due to weather.
15 Dec 1968
Jessica (Zoe) Harding born, lived in Oakley Sq
1969
Moved to 5 Belmont St which bought for £5.500
15 Mar 1970
Clarissa Julia Harding born
22.Aug 1972
Sasha (Alexandra Kate) Harding born
Feb 1973
Moved to 1 St Ann’s Gardens bt for £29,500 from Forbes Bramble, Rhyll St parent, 5 Belmont St sold for £22,500
29.7.1974
Sam (Richard) Harding born
C1975
C1988
South bank subsidiary to George Wimpey then George Wimpey Treasury and Project Finance Dept. Many visits re Bonds etc to Nigeria (2 buyer credits). Chair of CB1 bonds group publication
C1988
2002
Sir Wm Halcrow and Partners Ltd. Many visits to China. Arranged Jt Venture with Israeli co, Merhav owned by Yossi Maiman, arranging UK and US govt gtteed loans for projects in 3rd world
2002
2024+
Retired