Motor Tour of London’s Crookdom

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 164, 1 October 1927, Page 10

Motor Tour of London’s Crookdom

Thrills and Shudders for Overseas Visitors I BIG CITY’S HAUNTS OF CRIME ; For the sum of 7s 6d it is now possible to take a char-a-banc tour through the underworld of London. This is the latest enterprise of the tourist companies in catering for the instruction and amusement of the enormous number of American and colonial tourists who are pouring into London by every boat-train. Wishing to learn about the criminal side of the great metropolis, a representative of "The Sunday News" handed over three half-crowns, and took his seat in one of the large char-a-bancs waiting to take the uninitiated from the safe security of the upper world to the dangerous though fascinating underworld —peopled by those who live outside the pale of the' law. As the conveyance moved off it. was noticeable that there was a certain atmosphere of nervous insecurity among the 30 or so fellow-explorers, but a glance at the bulging hip pocket «>f the stalwart guide put to rest any fears of murder or kidnapping that were present in the minds of the courageous band of tourists who had paid their money to see the criminal in his native clement. CHINATOWNS WORST Chinatown was the first objective of the tour, and as the char-a-banc rumbled its way over the cobbled stones c f Pennyfield, strange tales were bawled through a megaphone about the opium dens which were secreted behind the mysterious shuttered ■winclows on either side. "On our right,’* cried the guide, "is one of the most notorious Chinese gambling dens in Limehouse. Here . ohn Chinaman beguiles his time and wastes his money in playing fan-tan, pukapoo, and other Oriental games of dunce.” From the shadows of Chinatown the vehicle hooted its noisy way through Whitechapel, where iniquitous dens of criminality were pointed out on all sides. "The only gin palace existent in London to-day,” and a house "where sailors are nightly drugged and robbed,” were objects of great interest. The exact locality of the "Jack the flipper” murders brought a shudder irom the women passengers, and safety was again looked for in the number of men present, and in the armed condition of the "human encyclopaedia” of London’s underworld, who oalanced himself precariously beside the driver. Dockland was next visited, and here was pointed out the various docks where the mechanicalised civilisation of the West joined hands with the >pices and mystery of the Orient”—a very inebriated band of sailors were indicated as merchant seamen ashore on <l spree, spending the wages of moni.hß in a. few hours. -THE FESTERING LESION” A number of Lascars in black caps and ill-fitting slops were pointed out as "the festering lesion of coloured seamen who bring the criminality of the Mast to poTute the West—a constant danger to white girls in dockland, who are laiijr the object of molestation at the hands of Lascars. By the time the party reached I.ondon’s "Gheito” everyone was thoroughly despondent of the enormous amount of criminality and vice prevalent in the world’s greatest capital—poor London, and poor Londoners. Thank goodness New York, Chicago, St. Louis, Melbourne, Sydney, Cape Town, are such models of virtue. From the noisy and shadowy East End underworld the char-a-banc speeded west,, to the jazz -mad "black colony” abutting the Tottenham Court Road. Here little cafes winked at the party—the strains of syncopated music issued forth, and largo Ethiopians, out of place \n their European clothes, strolled about with garishly dressed white girls on their arms. "London has a black population of 17.000,” cried the megaphone from the front of the car. and this is rapidly becoming a problem as acute as in the Uni-ted St-a-tes.” THE REAL NIGHT LIFE "Such scenes are of hourly occurrence,” boomed the megaphone once more, as the party passed a crowd surrounding two large sons of Africa engaged ip a rough-and-tumble. Soon the helmets of police appeared, ar.d the crowd disappeared into thin air. leaving the combatants to face the millions of the law. "This is Soho,” said the megaphone, "known commonly as Drugland, because of th€i enormous amount of traffic in drugs which takes place in this part of London.” "We are now in what may be called 7.ondon’s Montmartre,” cried the guide. "It is here that you see the rerj night life of London. On our right is one of L.ondon’s most famous night clubs, and it has been raided more than any other club in the West End.” The char-a-banc proceeded slowly through the labyrinth of street}? backing Leicester Square and Shaftesbury Avenue. "Piccadilly Circus, the hub of the universe,” said the megaphone impressively. "It is said by Scotland Yard that if they want a criminal they will meet him here—if they wait long enough.” "SUICIDE ALLEY” The tourist car now hummed along Piccadilly and wended its way toward London’s Quartier Latin —Chelsea. Presently the car reached the King's Road, and the megaphone gave tongue once more. ‘‘We are now in the heart of the artists* quarter,” is said. "Some of the world’s greatest painters and sculptors have occupied studios in this district. It is here, also, that some of the liveliest and most bizarre students’ rags take place. Chelsea is godmother to Greenwich Village, in New York—the Latin Quarter of Paris and the Venngarten of Berlin. "Westminster Bridge! From here you get tlu finest view of London by night!” cried the conductor. "On your left you sec* ‘Suicide Alley’—from that part of the Thames Embankment hundreds of men and women have thrown themselves into the river.” Ten minutes later the char-a-banc came to a standstill, and the r # md of tourists descended safe and sound once more :n the- upper world. These tours of the underworld are likely to become the most popular among the tours of London, and several additional cars have been placed on the "service.” It would seem that the underworld is a very paying proposition from the tourist agencies’ point of view, and there is no lack conductors. The impression left after one of these tours is that our great metropolis leaves the cities of the plain very much in the shade —in fact, the underworld explorer returns convinced that he has visited the home of every form of criminality, from murder to "cat” burglary, to say nothing of drugs, jumbling, opium dins, and haunts of the worst description. Ah, wicked—wicked London!