COLONIAL TRAVELLERS

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 7961, 18 November 1911, Page 9

COLONIAL TRAVELLERS

SOBUKBIA’S STAY-AT-HOME PEO-

CLIVITIES,

THE FEU IT’S OF TEAYEL. Faoil OUU LADY COEDESPONDENT.

LONDON, September 29. The attitude of the average, well-to-do su-burbauito ia England towards travel abroad is a thing difficult indeed of comprehension to the average colonial in England. Thero are few of.us in New Zealand, I think, who, in the back of our minds, do not look forward to that day when, dearly as we love New Zealand, we shall be able to leave it for a while and set out on a tour of actual inspection of tho world we know so well from our parents oz* from books; few of us, over tho ago of, say, eighteen, who could not quickly tell "what special corner of Europe wo would most dearly like to see if the chance arrived; and few of iu» who could not give a reason for our choice.

We may not be very strong on geography, but our knowledge of the charm or Venice, for instance, with- Us gliding gondolas and picturesque gondoliers, its old palaces and its numberless stories writ in stone, seems not to have begun for us in geography books. Tho Italian language may be to us, and probably is, one of which wo know nothing, but something of tho wonders of Florence, the-Arno, the magnificent galleries of masterpieces most of us know, though we could not perhaps give our authority. So it is with tho Bay of Naples at sunrise, with crescentshaped lines of red-sailed fishing craft to make it lovlier; so with Milan's marvellous cathedral; so with Rio's most beautiful harbour in the world; with Cologne and its cathedral;. with Notre jDamo.on its island in Paris, and the almost unrivalled Champs Ely so©; Napoleon's tomb, immortalised for us by logersoll’s "Meditation." the rich prose l)oom recited by many New Zealanders; with tho mysterious fiords of Norway, so like our Milford Sound; the appeal- , ing beauties of the Highlands of Scotland, with their wealth of heather, of purling burns, of fir trees, and ferns, that might bo own sisters to many loved ! spots in tho south of Now Zealand. Bits of Berlin we know, .of . Brussels, Holland's canals and rich pasture lands, her fino pictures, too; Spain's .warm colouring and tropical languor; • India's magic; Japan's delicate loveliness.‘ U Tho list grows too long—yet how much longer could it be? Thero are New Zealand girls that I know —but these are not the average, and it is of those I speak—who specialise in botany, zoology, or geology, who, would a good fairy but grant them their wish, know corners in Africa, Ceylon, China, where their, collections could bo made valuable ,iu a month, where r butterflies and .ugly reptiles, known -no where • else, abound, where rare and exquisite flowers flourish, and where stones that could startle old historians lio hid. "ENGLAND'S GOOD ENOUGH FOR

And then we come to England and stay with relatives whose lot is cast within, to us from overseas, a stone's throw of all those wonders, and hear that self-righteous and conclusive statement .that grows so—familiar .to us,.that it seems there must special secretspring ‘Concealed" within''' Suburbia'that only needs to be ‘ xmessed to come out and glibly squash us with "England's good enough for me." Sometimes tho crushing eloquence geos further and becomes an accusing mentor that says that tho desire for foreign travel is tho outward visible sign of a nasty inward discontent, that bridles as if w© had attempted to slight England. So it is that the traveller •learns, .-to walk; ; and talk, warjly.^a-nd. peiv. haps, in this, a valuable lesson, to-those of.. q you_og rr counfry;Js learned. Jt's ,not the lestefc ’use thinking we can"show .off” to English Suburbia, for it will have nouo of us, save in humility, and quite nicely turns tho subject on to drainage and tho servant question. Why all'this is it would be difficult to say, though the explanation of the colonial love of travel probably is, that it is but the spirit of our parents and grandparents—those courageous men and ..women who, in days when travel was idften a terrifying experience, set out for •that Tittle' 'spot"Light"on-ri:ho-othei~*side.' Of.the globe—living still in their descendants.

By the same measure the probable explanation of the statement that Suburbia so' loves is that. Suburbia—and by this I mean no garden city, or any modern institution, but real old-fashion-ed well-to-do professional Suburbia, with its staff of well-trained servants, and Xierhaps* a couple of gardeners, with its cosy residences and its constant remembrance of-the exact things that grandma, 'did; an J d Tlio 'exact time aiid ;.way' tnaF she, did them—is about the'daesti'and'' most perfect concrete example of Conservatism that exists.

By this I mean no disrespect to dear Suburbia, for she is a loveable institution, and of great kindness, but 1 merely explain, for X know Suburbia ami I know New Zealand. One weakness has Suburbia/—nothing will induce her to acknowledge that she doesn't want to go abroad, and doesn't like the idea of staying in foreign cities,, both, surely, perfectly reasonable contentions.

Instead, she almost”unfailingly urges the expense, turning a blind eye onAthe criminal bill presented by the keeper of a. boarding house at the .seaside, where every one of the inhabitants did the same thing at the same time, and exactly as things were done last year and many a long year before. As a matter of fact th© expense is about equal, but all things aro not, however, "equal/* ' A COMPARISON OF COMFORTS.

Comfort, that is one's lot all the year round, one may have, too, at the seaside

in England, even in a boarding houserich ruby burgundy will be gently warmed for dinner, the master of the house, perhaps an old butler, will wait on one with impassive dignity; there is a church parade on the pier on Sundays, just as good an index to the fashions as if it were in Hyde Park, one's boots are well cleaned, and all one's little pet foibles paid attention to. Incidentally all this appears on the bill, though not under these heads.

Does one decide on a holiday abroad, in, perhaps, a littlo Norman village, there will be few or none of these little luxuries. Boots will be cleaned indifferently till the servant love you. Then, indeed, he or she will put concrete evidence of devotion into your boots, and into all else that they do for you. So it is with most things in France. Just as one hears that the French are frivolous and insincere, so 'one hears, and this from those who have known them in their own country, that they're a singularly callous nation, save where their own kinsfolk are concerned. It is a contention that appears true to the Englishman or woman, typically reserved, who has no knowledge of the magic key to French or Norman hearts. It is a pity, this, too, for the key fits hearts all'over the globe. France is a republic, and it is a pity to stay in. her if one cannot realise the significance of this. The bullying attitude that, for instance, an English porter will tolerate with his inward eye on a tip, has a surprising effect on a French porter, whoso Poland to your Oliver is a thing to bo remembered. ’

This is well illustrated at the various Custom Houses in France, and one standard guide book goes so far as to warn its readers that courtesy will do a good deal more to help in these unpleasant places than any amount of bounce.

Witness the deference paid the English woman who is generous with smiles, and the blustering individual who squabbles in villainous French • over cigars that must bo confiscated because they were not declared. KEWABDS OF CIVILITY. A very telling example occurred right under the writer's very nose in a little Norman inn.

So kind and motherly was Madame, our hostess, so attentive and jolly Monsieur, our host, that it struck one as no virtue to bo , appreciative of all the good things both provided'and tell them so. -Monsieur 1 was always, at hand to blow a bicycle tyro on the hottest day, to carry the oars out to a boat on the Seine, to spirit one's parcels upstairs and suggest cool drinks. Madame, when the writer fell ill, hovered round with smiling suggestions of a dish made especially to tempt a poor appetite. Lois, surely th© most marvellous boy servant in the world, with a shock of wonderful curls framing his round little face, would run errands, not, ill; his catalogue, afc.all sorts of .odd hours. - .Genevieve, tho little deft-handed daughter of the house, likewise. One might be forgiven for thinking that only a boor could fail in constant compliments. No such thing. Two-English scholars were there, well-to-do travellers,, who took all without a word, though there were ample grumblings and growlings when their bill was presented. At the next table to ours were a quarrelsome husband and wife (she French, nondescript) who seemed v ,tb trike' a ; delight in' rousing Madame's cheeks to a humilated flush, so many were their complaints. After tho Englishmen's grumbles, and with a remembrance of jugs of rich cream that appeared on our table and not on tho menu, of numerous delicious cups of coffee, of ‘ especially cooked omelettes, and of afternoon tea (a most rare luxury in Franco) wo asked for our bill somewhat tremblingly. It appeared and showed: “-Two -rCdms a day—49 francs, with not a solitary.-extra! As ’ fdr Monsieur smiled when wo reasoned 'with him, it had been a pleasure to give them.

This—for- nothing more than what seemed to us only decent civility on our part! Before we left our healths were drunk in champagne, and the whole family, servants, master and mistress, and the dog, assembled to bid us farewell,, and bid us welcome should wo com© again. And., yet, ’I ‘ assure you, we were no-thing-but-a young- Frenchwoman and a young New Zealander, not strikingly pretty, not rich, only appreciative. One itinds the shopekepers in these little old-world towns marvels of kindness who, in return fa** & chat, which they love, will do one numberless little services. They have, of course, much greater'leisure than .English tradesmen. I have said that one had few luxuries in these villages abroad—that is, few of the solid comforts that the heart of the average -Englishman or r ;woman so love. { Fbr instance’/ a 1; couch, is .often an un-knowtr'thlng'-and'arm chairs 1 in a boarding house are precious.” At table one must keep ones black-handled knife and fork for each course, for no clean ones aro provided, napery, though it may be spotless, is coarse, and the general sanitary arrangements are not so good as in England. A bathroom, for instance, would be a quite unheard of apartment. The place will probably, also, be minus a piano. But it should bo remembered that the air is clear, the sky high arched and blue, not lowering as it too often is in England, and that one can always stay near a river or the sea, and be out of doors all day. There were, in my Norman village, two sweet old thirI toenth century churches, famous ruin*?, long • delightful paths for miles along tho' Seine where wo could bicycle or walk, fishing, boating, bathing, and shooting. And beauty spots everywhere.