PARIS AND VIENNA

Evening Star, Issue 19441, 27 December 1926, Page 5

PARIS AND VIENNA

GHIG WOMEN AND GAY CABARETS AUSTRALIAN'S WANDERINGS [By Gut Iknes.] (Exclusive to the ‘ Evening Star.’) No. 1. LONDON, October 14. “I cannot rest from travel,” says Tennyson’s Ulysses—and in these days of excellent facilities to that end on the Continent of Europe there is no reason why one should do so. Wha( impression most abidingly remains after a tour of France, Switzerland, Austria, Southern Germany, and Belgium? The utter folly of war—an arbitrament which changes into active foes nations of kindly people, eager, given a formula of mutual understanding, to be friends.

There has been a war—and there have • been several treaties of peace. Both war and peace are still fertile of a vast crop of readjustments, concessions, and retrogressions, more or less amicably conducted, and all tending to arrive at workable solutions. The more one considers the trend of events, and weighs the human and political factors, the more one wonders why all these negotiations could not have been conducted without the preliminary of the agony that is war. The war, indeed, seems to have created more problems than it has solved. Consider not only the numberless readjustments of the various treaties but the financial stabilisations that are necessary; the eventual destiny of Alsace and Lorraine,, of Eupen and Malmedy; the Franco-German rapprochement, and the shadowy signs .R-of an Anglo-ltalian alignment on the other side of the scale; the claims of Hungary, hemmed in and reduced in area, for legitimate expansion; the desire of Germany for mandates, subverted to her willingness to do without colonies until the time is ripe; the confusion that is Russia; the restlessness in Spain and Greece; the position of the occupied territory on the Rhine, and the problem of the Saar Valley. READJUSTMENTS. These and a thousand other complications fill the long valley of shadows down which the League of Nations is conscientiously marching _to what Europe hopes will be a brighter day. The United States of Europe is as yet but a dream —the old theory of the balance of power is still alive and operative ; and behind all shadows is the sword. Everyone cries that it be sheathed for good—hut there is no agreement as to the pattern of the scabbard in which it is to rest. That is Europe’s problem in ono sentence. GERMANY AND FRANCE. Though nation for the moment does net lift up sword against nation, there are things that have not been forgotten. More than one German—and these were men of the people—with whom I spoke, was utterly confident of the ability of his country to defeat France in six weeks if the two nations should ever be left alone to fight it out—and such a prospect _is not unpleasing to the former soldier of the Kaiser. It must never he allowed fulfilment.

Many a German anxious, as one put it, to “cut the Frenchmen into marmalade,” would much sooner, _in his heart of hearts, regain the job as waiter or tailor’s assistant which he held in England before he was interned there during the period of the war. But that is beyond his hopes. England has more than enough of her own people to fill such positions, and there is no chance of Fritz’s return. Wherefore Fritz is very philosophically making the best of it. Since lie cannot go hack to England nor emigrate to Australia, he is anxious to be friendly with everybody, and he much prefers Brinnd to Poincare. Briand’s gesture of amity to Stresemann on the rostrum at Geneva has, at least for the time being, Avon Fritz’s heart. But he suspects Poincare of believing that Germany and the Germans must bo for ever subordinated to France and the French, and of a determination to act in that belief. “ Some day, too,” he says, “England will need a friend—and why should not that friend bo Germany?” FRENCH STABILISATION.

At present Paris is as gay as ever, France is self-contained, and the fall of the franc does not so visibly affect her prosperity as might ho imagined. She is host to a huge company of guests in the form of wealthy tourists; and, though in her country districts there is drought, her richer peasants arc cheerfully exchanging such gold and silver as they have hoarded—and no one can. hoard like the French peasant—lor paper money, which the Government is offering at higher rates than par. Meanwhile a genuine effort at monetary stabilisation is being made, and, despite all rumors, disaster is yet afar. The peasant toils on. He is the backbone of the country, and in him lies his country’s hope. France is not rude to tho foreigner ■—unless lie is rude first. But she rightly resents certain transatlantic forms of vulgar display. She charges one rate for commodities to her own citizens and another to the visitor—■ particularly the American visitor. No one with ideas of economy patronises a Paris shop with an American clicntiele —the prices are too high. More than once, too, I have heard tho proverb, apropos the excellent second class railway accommodation in Europe: “Only fools and Americans travel first class.’’ Austria is quite candid in her attitude to tho foreigner. Her people are perhaps more courteous to English visitors than are any other Continentals, hut the “ Auslandcr ’’ has to buy a ticket of a different color (and pay more for it) from that sold to the Austrian for many places of public entertainment. ASYLUM OF GREAT CAUSES. Switzerland, the home of the League of Nations and many another hand of champions of humanitarian causes, is as beautiful and as charming as befits such a milieu. The hotels are luxurious and expensive, the service therein is excellent, and, as might have been expected in a country so soundly neutral, one can sit over one’s cocktail and wonder if there ever was a war. The country is more or less prosperous, the franc is apparently as stable as the Alps, and one realises that when it comes to living at peace with one’s neighbors, and making money out of them, they order these things better in Switzerland than anywhere else. Memories which one carries away are a view of the Castle of Chillon by moonlight; Mont Blanc shining in white grandeur above its majestic fellows; the blue gleam of Lake Leman before the ordered terraces of Baron Rothschild’s summer residence; Glion and Matthew Arnold's poem; the scarred crags of the Dent du Midi; the crowded assembly in the utilitarian, almost shabby, hall, where sits the League of Nations; Stresemann’s shaven head; Rriand’s iron-grey mop of hair; and Paderewski, a courtly lion, shaking hands and dismissing his visitors with kindly greetings to the Australia he is to visit so soon, ft sounds kaleidoscopic—but what is travel but a kaleidoscope?

A vignette that remains is a silvery aquaplane dipping from the sunset sky and coming to rest on the placid Zurich See below its encircling mountains. In the foreground a live brown statue, who has swum and sun-bathed ■himself to the likeness of a Sydney surfer, dries himself jvith a red ana

white towel in a bright blue boat. Summertime Switzerland and Austria are like the country districts of Australia in one respect—there are bands of swimmers in every river; and Australia is again recalled by the endless plantations of acacia along every Austrian railway line. Though the Swiss franc is stable at twenty-five to the pound, Switzerland is not without its unemployment troubles, particularly in the machinery and metallurgical trades, in which feverish German competition is being felt, and in the lace industry. But while she has her Alps, her lakes, her hotels, and her tourists, Switzerland need never feel real depression. AUSTRIA RECOVERING.

The river and mountain scenery through which one passes to the Austrian Tyrol prepares one for the climax —a view, from the garden perched on the shoulder of the Hungerberg, of the twinkling city of Innsbruck snuggling down to sleep in • the shelter of the eternal hills. The Tyroleans, picturesque in their shorts, colored vests, and jackets, with plumes in their felt hats which may be aigrettes or shaving brushes, are meh of fine physique and sturdy independence. They gave Austria the best of her soldiers. Vienna is a queen remembering old splendors. Her buildings and her art are regal; but there is none to wear the glorious crown jewels which dazzle visitors to the Hofburg Palace; and beautiful Schonbrunn, in its stately grounds, the scene of glittering pageants from the time of Napoleon to that of Francis Joseph, is now a pleasureground for the citizens. Truly they are well served. A drive through the sunlit forest of the Prater, with its live ramparts of green, succeeds an inspection of the priceless lacquer and the Florentine mosaics at Schonbrunn, still haunted by the personality of Maria Theresa and the memories of her beauty when she flourished in her pride. Nowadays Vienna’s sovereign is Jeritza, whose appearances fill the tiering boxes of the wonderful State Opera-house, comparable only to La Scala, with breathless silence and thunderous applause. DAMSELS AND DINNERS. The Viennese girl is chic and desirable. But the post-war depression has not entirely worn off, and, having Jess money to spend than formerly, she is not now the power which in old time moved heaven and earth. The magnificent shops spread their attractive wares for her almost in vain. Despite the display, customers are scarce; and there is not the traffic in the streets of Vienna which one would expecji in a city of two million inhabitants. The cabarets are open at night, hutare not crowded. Still, there are increasing signs that Austria’s _ capital is beginning once more to respire that oxhilarant breath which aforetime was its very life. Places where the initiate may dine delectably are still to be found—notably a certain cafe where the overture of the caviare fittingly introduces a goulash that is nothing short of a rhapsody, and Tokay sheds its final benison over the feast. . Ibis particular cafe, so ’tis' said, was established during the war by a lady who was an rnieux with an exalted personage. Through his influence she was able to secure and supply the best of food—at a price—when the rest of Vienna was on very short commons indeed. The high standard in cuisine and clientele which her restaurant attained has now spread itself to the whole quarter, formerly Humdrum and bourgeois, hut _ to-day the chosen resort of the exacting and the well-to-do. The inquiring traveller is interested to learn that the railways of Austria, excellent as they are, do not pay—largely owing to the number of travelling concessions and free passes extended to politicians and civil servants.

Nevertheless, the civil servant is not well off, and is continually on the edge of striking for better conditions. An extensive strike of this nature threatened to paralyse the telegraphic, postal, and other services early in October. Those who wish to forget these unpleasant things can find surcease in the glorious art galleries, with their almost unequalled collection of old masters, and in the music and drama which Vienna still worships. Except to an extent in former court circles, there is no desire for a return of the monarchy, which was not only remote from the hearts of the people, but cast heavy financial burdens upon them. It was pointed out to me that the Emperor and his family lived apart, and that few of his subjects knew him even by sight. The intcicst in everyday affairs displayed by the British ‘Royal Family was specifically cited as a contrast. Austria is content to remain a republic.