TOURING IN EUROPE

Evening Post, Volume CXXV, Issue 145, 22 June 1938, Page 7

TOURING IN EUROPE

By Jean Batten: Copyright.

This section of Miss Jean Batten's autobiography continues her description of her European tour with her mother and concludes with her preparations to fiy solo to New Zealand (CHAPTER 15 (Continued.) I had been warned in Madrid to land only on the grass part of the aerodrome of Prat, as the large clay patches were fllled-in shell-holes. The small two-way landing-ground appeared to be all clay, so, thinking it might be very soft, I landed at the equally small aerodrome of the Aero Club of Catatunga. Later I took the Gull over to Prat to clear Customs foi France. The Barcelona people, we found, were most hospitable, and we had soon made many friends. ' Several tours were arranged so that we might see the sights of the city. Our hotel faced the Plaza de Catalunya, and the famous street Rambla was near by. A 1 a reception I was made a member oi the Aero Club of Catalunya. During our stay in Spain we noticed that few women in the cities wore traditional Spanish dress, although many still affected the mantilla, mostly worn without the comb. Barcelona seemed very modern, and as we strolled along the Rambla we passed a theatre advertising Charlie Chaplin in "Tempo Moderno," and another with Marlene Dietrich in "Deseo." I was sorry later that we missed seeing a film in Spanish. Several receptions were given, and I had the pleasure of broadcasting from Radio Barcelona. It was May, 1935, and I left Barcelona to fly to Paris to receive the Cross of the Legion of Honour, which it had been arranged should be bestowed on me at a banquet to be held on the evening of May 7. Mother had taken as great a liking to Majorca as I, and she-decided to return and wait in Palma for me, the plan being that 1 should fly back and stay a little longer with her in Spain. I flew to Paris via Toulouse, where I stayed the night at the home of M. Marcel Doret, the famous French pilot, and his wife. In brilliant sunshine I landed at Buc Aerodrome, Paris, thf ilowing day, to be met by represent es of the Aero Club de France a greeted by my friend, Mile. Suzanne Deutsche de la Meurthe. A luncheon was given at the hotel at Versailles, after -which we drove to the Prince des Galles, where I stayed. That night at a banquet given by the Aero Club de France I was decorated with the Cross of Chevalier de la Legion d'Honneur, and felt that my cup of happiness was indeed filled to the brim. WHAT! ROSES? The following day.the newspapers reported the fine flight of the Grai Zeppelin to Lakehurst, and I never fail to smile when I think of an incident that occurred that morning. When we were passing Bagatelle a friend of mine, who was driving, remarked that the roses in the garden of that little jewel of a palace were exquisite and blooming in profusion. "What!" I replied. "Roses blooming in the open in early May! I can'l believe that, even o'f this magic city." "We will see them, and with our own eyes," my friend remarked, turning the car and driving back. I - thought the concierge looked slightly shocked when we asked to be directed, to the rose garden.- As we hurried along the paths my friend remarked oh the myriads of the multicoloured tulips which adorned the gardens with their stately beauty. "Yes, but I want to see those roses you were so sure about, as I don'i believe there are any," I insisted as we walked on, both confident that we were right. "There," he cried, "is the rose gardeft —beyond that 1 hedge." The garden was there all right, bul not a rose to be seen. With a look ol consternation my friend asked a gar'dener working near by if there were any roses out yet. The aged gardener told us that .we might find a few at another part of the gardens to which he directed us. With renewed confidence my companion •walked quickly to the spot,- while I, growing increasingly sceptical, followed/, "him. There was .a.,delighted shout' ahead as my friend located a tiny pink bud—the only one in the whole garden that had the temerity to appear so early. "Yes, it certainly is a leader," I said. "And now that we have wasted nearly two hours searching you may as well see the name of the hardy and gallant bud that has saved your reputation for integrity." He bent •„ and disentangled the label from the leaves, and we both read the single name—Eckner. trouble Begins in spain. On flying back to London I read in the news of the riots and shipping strikes which heralded the civil war in Spain. A strike at the docks in Barcelona seemed imminent, so, fearing that my mother might be cut off on the island of Majorca, I sent an urgent telegram asking her to take the first boat and wait for me in Barcelona. Flying to Spain from London I experienced the most atrocious weather, landed at Toulouse in a deluge, and proceeded to Barcelona the following morning. I stayed only one night in Barcelona, and next day drove to Prat with my mother, accompanied by some of our Spanish friends, including Senor Canudas, Director of Civil Aviation, and his wife. When I had cleared Customs and all good-byes had been said, the luggage carefully stowed in the machine, and mother comfortably seated in the cabin surrounded by bouquets of roses, I gave the Gull full throttle, and we took off for Marseilles. We crossed the Spanish border to France and.followed the broad sweep of the Gulf of Lyons, passing over quaint little villages. In brilliant sunshine we flew over the Bouches du Rhone and landed at Marignane Airport, on the shore of Lake Berre, where we were met by my old friend M. Fournier and invited to lunch at his home with Mme. Fournier and their family. MONTE CRISTO'S PRISON. Our stay in Marseilles was a happy one. I particularly wanted to show mother the Chateau d'lf, from which Edmond Dante, the Count of Monte Cristo, made his spectacular escape after long, weary years of imprisonment. The island was some miles distant from Marseilles, and we travelled in a small open boat. As the Mediterranean was in one of its boisterous moods we were drenched with spray as the tiny vessel ploughed through the white-capped waves. The Chateau has all the traits of a medieval fortress, with its high stone walls rising sheer from the white rocky shore, its ramparts and dungeons. It retains all the romantic atmosphere of adventure that has thrilled the youth of all countries. We climbed the many stone steps leading to the great oak door of the Chateau, and after seeing the tower and the view from the ramparts we groped our way through the gloom to the ;ells. The French guard brought an sil-lamp which accentuated the eerie darkness and picked out the names and inscriptions which had been carved on the stone walls by prisoners in olden limes. Holding the lamp above his

A CHANGE FROM FLYING

head, the guard led the way, and in one cell showed us the exact spot where the Count of Monte Cristo spent years chipping away the stone in his endeavour to escape. Before flying back to London we spent a few days in Paris, where we were entertained, and again experienced the most lavish hospitality. At a luncheon at the Inter-Alien Club we met Vicomte de Rohan, President of the Automobile Club de France, and the President of the Aero Club de France, Lieutenant-Colonel Wateau. Mile. Suzanne Deutsch da la Meurthe was there also. In company with the Marquise de Noailleg we drove to her lovely home at Chantilly to see the beautiful castle where peacocks strutted on the wide lawns. THE ULTIMATE AIM. On our return to London, I decided that the time had arrived for me to achieve what I considered as the ultimate of my ambition —the first solo flight to New Zealand. Consequently I commenced preparations for the flight, determined that the organisation should be perfect right down to the smallest detail. Before my previous long-distance flights I had undergone a period of training, and to break the monotony of the usual skipping and daily walks, I planned a novel interlude. This was to be a walking tour along the South Downs, over which I had flown so many times, but had seldom had a chance to explore from the ground. I acquired large-scale Ordnance Survey maps and plotted out a daily schedule and selected the most suitable inns at which to stay. When mother saw the schedule I hadplanned, allowing for a walk of 10 to 15 miles a day, she diplomatically reminded me that she happened to be older, not younger, than myself. "If you think you are old you will grow old," I said. "It's merely a state of the mind, and you are as fit as I am, and your spirit is just as young." Nevertheless, I thought that if the tour proved too strenuous we could always rest for a few days somewhere. On a glorious midsummer day in July we took the train to the delightful old-world village of Amberley, which nestles snugly in a valley where the downs part to let the river Arun flow to the sea. Clad in light tweed costumes, soft felt hats, and stout walking shoes, we were untrammelled by any luggage save a small bag each with the barest necessities and two silk rainproofs. To acclimatise ourselves we stayed for two days in the peaceful village, with its thatched cottages and "jasmine-muffled lattices." We climbed the slopes of Mount ■ Amberley and rested on the scented downland turf, drinking in the beauty of the scene as the green downs, dotted here and there with fields of golden corn studded by crimson poppies, rolled gently down | to the sea. Walking, I think, must be the greatest tonic, and it is one within the reach of all. Those who have felt the springy turf of the downs under their feet and filled their lungs with the crisp fresh air will agree with me. As you walk all the petty little worries and doubts that sometimes crowd the mind disappear, and in Nature's soothing presence new thoughts and inspirations come as if by magic. We. made good progress, and on our walk passed through Steyning, Eoynings, Lewes, Newftaven, and Seaford. By the time we reached the Seven Sisters one scorching day we were able to take them in our stride, and arrived at Beachy Head well pleased with things in general. At this stage my presence was necessary in London in connection with the flight preparations, for I had already set the cogs of organisation into motion before leaving. Mother appeared not at all disappointed at the interruption in our tour, and was, I believe, secretly grateful for a few days' respite from the rigorous walking. MAKING PREPARATIONS. When 1 returned to Eastbourne we continued our journey, walking on via Hastings and Fairlighti We left the downs at Pevensey to cross the Homney Marshes. Stopping at the quaint I old towns of Winchelsea and Rye and l Lydd, we went on through Dym- ' church to Hythe, from where we returned to London by train, having walked s approximately sixty miles on the tour. 5 The Gull was hangared at Hatfield, where we had taken a cottage quite near the famous old Hatfield House, home of the Earls of Salisbury, where Queen Elizabeth is reputed to have been staying when she received the news of her accession to the Throne. It was indeed gratifying to learn that my name was included in the Birthday Honours of 1936, and that I was to be made a Commander of the British Em- i pire. At the first investiture held by . King Edward VIII in July I was , present at Buckingham Palace, and re- ; ceived the decoration from the King. This decoration was an exquisitely i wrought gold and ultramarine enamelled cross, topped with a tiny gold 1 crown and worn with a royal purple < bow. I placed it proudly alongside ( my French and Brazilian orders. At this time I was very busy with preparations for my forthcoming flight, although, following my usual procedure, I intended making no announcement until I was almost ready to depart. The Gull's certificate of airworthiness had been renewed, the engine overhauled, and the large eighty-gallon auxiliary tank replaced in the cockpit. I indulged in the extravagance of a self-starter, as there was usually a considerable amount of time lost starting the engine by swinging the heavy metal propeller by hand. I had completed a series of tests, and when I flew the machine to Lympne I to clear Customs felt quite confident of I reaching my objective, Auckland, in | New Zealand, 14,000 miles away. Bad I weather was reported over the Con- I tinent, so I stayed a day at Lympne | waiting for better conditions. |