FROM A CLUBMAN’S CHAIR

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXXVII, Issue 19805, 22 May 1934, Page 4

FROM A CLUBMAN’S CHAIR

BRINGING SUBURBIA TO TOWN

CAMPING ON RAILS (Specially written for “ The Timaru Herald ” by Charles Martin.) LONDON, April 12. Since some enterprising builder set up a couple of charming “country cottages" just off the Strand other people have caught on to this idea of building show homes right in the centre -of town, so that busy househunters can see what is being offered in the suburbs. This particular plot of vacant land, in the shadow of Bush House, is one of the most valuable sites in London—so valuable, apparently, that no one can afford to build permanently on it. But this builder found it worth his while to take a short lease and run up his pair of specimen cottages. No other builder has aspired to anything quite so central as the Strand. The best of the other sites is at King’s Cross, where a suburban villa surrounded by an evergreen hedge flaunts its red bricks amid the grime of two great railway stations Very incongruous it looks amid all this dirt and dignity, as a bungalow might look in Trafalgar Square or a thatched cottage in the City. A Bold Builder. The railway people must have felt very much like this about it when the bold builder wanted to lease that precious strip of land leading up to King’s Cross. What, a villa outside our station! But no one had ever used the* land, and here was a man offering good rent for it—so eventually the railway company agreed to let him have it for a year. That is the story of the impudent little King’s Cross villa. The thousands of passengers who pass to and fro each day seem to like it. The house is nicely furnished, and lots of people use it as a waiting room. Others, seriously bent on house-hunting, pry into its nooks and corners, examine all its gadgets, and try to decide whether they would like such a villa in Edgware or Harrow. Deserted Village. More ambitious, if less central, is the housing enterprise off Ealing Broadway. A number of builders have joined forces, and they have decided to erect a whole model town of one hundred homes here. No one will ever live in the houses, but they will display a complete range of building enterprise. It might take you months to tour round all the “building estates” that encircle London; but here at Ealing you will be able to see every house m a single afternoon. For that matter, you can go at night, too, for this model village is to be flood-lit with an intensity five times as bright as Piccadilly Circus. This little patch of suburbia-in-town will be opened in June. The “In-And-Out” Ladies. The “ladies’ side” of the Naval and Military Club was opened with great success last week; and it is quite clear that this admission of women to yet another male stronghold is going to prove a financial as well as a social success. Incidentally, the new departure is very aptly called a ladies' “side,” for the women associate members have a side entrance of their own in Haff Moon Street. They do not use the famous Piccadilly gates marked “In ’ and “Out,” which give the Naval and Military its nickname. Most of the top floor has been given over to the ladies. They have three drawing rooms, a writing room, two dining rooms, a cocktail bar and a number of dressing and bathrooms. This being an “attic” floor, there are all sorts of odd sloping ceilings and arches, yet there is nothing cramped about the accommodation. In one respect the ladies are better off than their menfolk down below: They have a magnificent view over the tree-tops across Hyde Park to Buckingham Palace and beyond. Cloaks for Men. • Now that the Grand Opera season is approaching, I expect we shall see a few more men wearing cloaks in the evening. But I am sorry to think that the wearers will mostly be elderly dandies bravely carrying on the good old Edwardian tradition. The only young man I know of who sports a cloak is Lord Poulett, who braves convention in a gorgeous, sweeping garment lined with crimson. For the rest, our young men seem shy of cloaks. It is quite wrong, by the way, to imagine that only a tall man can wear a cloak effectively Italian officers look very dashing in their cloaks; and the Italians are not noted for their stature. Free Lunch for Flyers. The proprietor of a country hotel near London has hit on a novel idea for encouraging airmen to visit his place. There is a good landing field near the hotel, but he does not think that in itself is enough to tempt every flyer to drop down to the hotel. So he offers the added inducement of a free Sunday lunch. Let me add at once that there is only one free lunch each Sunday and that its lucky recipient is chosen by chance. The free meal is awarded to the airman who lands nearest to the time decided upon by the proprietor in the morning, and known to him alone. So that there shall be no “cheating,” he writes down the chosen hour and seals it in an envelope. The modest prize does not cost the hotel very much, but it has brought quite a number of airmen to the place. Camping on Rails. A novel holiday idea is being launched this summer by the enterprising Great Western Railway. They have built nineteen “camping coaches” which are like roomy caravans on rails. You can hire one of these coaches and have it shunted on to a siding in any rural spot you choose. Each coach accommodates six people. There are two sleeping compartments, a sitting-room and a well-equipped kitchen. And you need bring nothing with you to camp; the company provides bed-clothes, crockery and cooking utensils. All this costs only ten shillings a week for each person—so it looks like being* one of the cheapest holidays one could choose.