FROM A CLUBMAN’S CHAIR

Timaru Herald, Volume CXL, Issue 20261, 9 November 1935, Page 21

FROM A CLUBMAN’S CHAIR

THE MEN WHO MADE COCKNEY JOKES SEEING LONDON CHEAPLY (Specially written lor "The Timaru Herald" by Charles Martin) LONDON, September, 19. Visitors who go to lunch or dine in Soho, London’s continental quarter are surprised at the palpitating interest taken there in the Italo-Abys-sinian affair. Not that there is any clash of rival nationalities—but as likely as not your waiter is an Italian liable to be called up for military service at any moment. Some, lam told, have already gone. A good many of the younger waiters I have spoken to seem quite as enthusiastic as their compatriots in Italy. But proprietors of restaurants and the innumerable little Italian shops that flourish in Soho are much less keen. They are afraid their livelihood may. be gone by the time they get home. Luckily for them, most of these independent proprietors are over military age. Home, Sweet Home But although there is a good deal of trepidation about the prospect of being called up, I have never heard an Italian say he wished he were a British subject. Most of those in Soho have been here a long time, and could easily have qualified for naturalisation. But unlike many other emigrants, the Italian always dreams of retiring to his own sunny cuntry when he has “made his pile.” London is never "home” to him, though he may live here half his life. Londoners AU For some reason or other, quite half the Cockney jokes you hear are put into the mouths of ’bus conductors. Perhaps it is because they ride about and see the London world, and can always lean out and shout derisive Cockney remarks at other road-users who can’t answer back. But ’busmen have their serious side. The Transport Board people have been looking over their staff lists and have let out a few piquant details about the private lives of some of the men. It makes one realise what interesting personalities there are behind the blue uniforms. From Monk to ’Busman If you board a ’bus to Richmond, for instance, you may pay your fare to a man who was once a monk in a Monmouthshire monastery. He is busy on his autobiography. Another literary ’busman, perhaps more whimsical than the monk, collects fares on the Muswell Hill route. He used to be a writer of fairy stories before he took to the road. Music is strongly represented. “Fares please,” may be asked by a singer who once had big roles in the Carl Rosa Opera Company; or perhaps by a young baritone who is just at the beginning of his career and who sang at the Albert Hall only the other week. Film Star at the Wheel One of the drivers is becoming quite noted as a song writer, and has had several of his songs sung over the wireless. Then there is an ex-film actor who starred in a picture called “The Hooded Terror,” and then deserted Hollywood for a ’bus in his native London. Art is represented by a conductor who has had his picture hung in the Royal Academy—but who still finds there is a better living on a ’bus than in a studio. There are hundreds of sportsmen—some of them champions—on London’s red ’buses. One driver is credited with having once beaten Lord Burghley at hurdles; another used to be a star forward in Hudderfleld Soccer team, and he still takes time off to act as their coach during the football season. London’s amateur billiards champion, Len Lee (who was taught by the great Faulkner), is a bus’ conductor. To Australia or the Cape And as for the future, you may be hearing any day that a London 'busman has flown to Australia or the Cape in record For the Transport men have a flourishing aero club of their own, and hundreds of them are leamin gto fly at a cost of only a shilling or so a week. A Profitable Hunt A friend just back from a holiday in the West Country tells me that the stag hunt down there is coining almost as much money as the hotel industry. Lots of people are violently opposed to stag hunting on humanitarian grounds, but at every meet there are hundreds of strangres anxious to see what the sport is like. And the hunt makes a handsome income out of them. During the holiday season there are often close on 200 visitors who hire a horse locally, and each of them has to pay the Devon and Somerset Staghounds. Now the hunt has hit on a new source of income. It demands five shillings from every motorist who follows the hunt in his car. Since the motorists are merely using the roads to which they are freely entitled, they could refuse to pay—but my friend says they never do. Since there are generally three or four hundred cars at a meet, the revenue to the hunt is considerable. They Come to Britain The sponsors of the "Come to Britain” movement certainly ought to be pleased with the success of their campaign so far as numbers are concerned. One day this week no fewer than 1400 visitors arrived in a single party. They were Belgians and Frenchmen on a day trip to London, hustling through the “sights” in a . fleet of 45 motor-coaches. But, unfortunately for the more expensive London hotels and the luxury shops, numbers are not everything. More Americans have visited England this season than in any other year since the depression; but, like the trippers from the Continent, most of them are middle-class folk who cannot afford to scatter money like the typical American visitor of the boom years. The Best Spenders Actually, London shopkeepers and the French (once notoriously careful of restaurant proprietors are finding that their cash), are the best spenders nowadays. They mostly come to London on cheap all-in trips; but once here they are great shoppers. Economy is the reason; so many things here (especially clothes), are now much cheaper than in France. Lure of Cheap Money Not is this travel traffic all one-way. Ticket agencies tell me that at least 30 per cent, more English people are visiting the Continent this year, as compared with last. Thousands more are holiday-making in Germany, where cheap money is the lure. Change a £1 note at a bank in Germany, and you get only 12 marks for it. But, in London, before you start your trip, you can buy in advance “registered” marks at a rate of 20 or 22 to the pound. You can't collect this money until you get to Germany, and once you have got it you must spend it in the country.

Frightful penalties hang over the head of the tourist who tries to bring money out of Germany. But in spite of this, I know one or two tourists who have made nice little dividends out of this “registered” mark business. A few 100-mark notes are easy to conceal, and if you get them safely home you can, of course, change them at an English bank at the rate of 12 to the pound. Since you bought these marks at 20 or 22 to the pound, there is quite a satisfactory profit. Of course, the thing is too risky to do on a large scale.