Pea-Soup Fog in London

Dominion, Volume 31, Issue 104, 27 January 1938, Page 5

Pea-Soup Fog in London

Two New Zealanders Get Lost On Christmas Day

(A letter from Beatrix K. ’Sellers).

QHRIST.MAS DAY in London—this London, city of so many guises nnd disguises, city of so many moods, city of intense heat and of intense cold. One day a city of beautiful parks and gardens, and, almost in the same breath, city of dullness and drabness, and cold and dirt. And, then Christmas Day—a city of nothingness! Everything had disappeared, wiped out under a mantle of fog—dirty, grey fog—a sea of pea-soup. The morning dawned quite tine and fair and warm—unseasonably warm, and all very quiet and still. By midday, quite suddenly, down eame the fog. From bright noon we were suddenly plunged into darkest night. I had arranged to go to some friends for dinner at 1.30, at their flat on the other side of London. : How to get there? Nothing daunted my companion, and I started off, brave souls venturing into the unknown. . It was. terrifying and unreal —every step was like walking off into space, and nothingness. We groped our way

to the nearest underground station. On the way we must have passed people and cars, but we didn’t see them, we only heard them. The only things "we did see on that short journey- were an occasional glimpse of the walls and fences we hugged. We felt our way, and discovered here and there a familiar landmark—a pair of stone eagles perched on their gateposts, a certain tree, a broken wall, and Anally, the dim lights of the. underground station. In here all was murk and gloom, but people were arriving from all directions, [al, like ourselves, bent on keeping their dinner appointments with family and friends, and all laden with their Christmas parcels. No one showed the slightest excitement, nothing extraordinary was happening—they had all been through it all before (except we two strangers). I could not help wondering how this same crowd

would react if there had been’an earthquake just then! I verily believe they would just have gone on buying their tickets and marshalling the family and the dog to the train! Down underground it was brighter. We could see again for the fog had not penetrated so far. The trains were packed to the very last inch. It was London’s only means of transport until the fog lifted, so we just put up with the discomfort of being sat on and trodden on and jolted and jostled. At last we were on our way, and arrived above, ground again at Victoria Station, two wraiths in the mist. I had a vague idea of our destination, if only I could see my way! After wandering aimlessly and hopelessly, and, I am sure, in circles, we decided we certainly were worse off than the babes in the wood—after all, the birds did cover them with leaves! Just as we had decided the only thing to do was to try and find the underground again, and try to get back home, 'a figure loomed up out of the

fog. A man who knew where we were, and who gave us directions to a taxi rank—“ First turning to the right—across the road and first to the left” — and, believe it or not, we groped our way and found that taxi stand. We had walked right round Victoria Station, several.miles it seemed. A trusting drifer agreed to try to get us to our destination, and eventually he was as good as his word. I think he did it by sense of smell—he certainly didn’t do it by sense of sight! What a contrast when we arrived indoors! Here all was bright with lights and warm and glowing with Christmas decorations and good cheer, and so it would be in every home in this great city. English people really know how to keep thi? festive season, from the highest to the poorest in the land. It was a perfect party —Christmas tree (with presents for all), mistletoe, crackers,

and such,;> dinner! When the pudding was brought in all lights were put out. and the only light came from the lighted brandy with which the pudding was saturated—quite a ceremony. Incidentally, I nearly swallowed the “bachelor’s button” out of that pudding! Later we left that party and groped our way again to the underground on our way to yet another party. This, a much larger party, but like the first, except that after dinner we danced and made merry until the “wee sma’ hours.” A wonderful day for we New Zealanders: a day long to be remembered.