TALES OF TRAVEL

Waimate Daily Advertiser, Volume XXIV, 11 April 1927, Page 8

TALES OF TRAVEL

THE PLAGE INTIME. (By Muriel Stevenson.) A train journey to the coast, 'three hours on the water, a short motor run, and you have started your kolidav in a tiny French seaside village. A little ever half a day spent ha travel, ■aiot so long as it takes to get from one part of England to another, and that unfailing tonic, a complete change of environment, is yours.

You have planted yourself for so many days or weeks (and at theuesid of the time you will wish, it could be longer) in a minute village as yet invaded by few foreigners, where the conversation is entirely French, the food, though simple, unlike any placed before one in an English hotel,.the accommodation, if not elaborate,.is:most comfortable, and the manners and customs are o c a nature so courteous and kindly that they would be difficult to improve. This, taking things in general, is what one finds at a French 4 ‘plage intime”—-an apt phrase used by an obliging inhabitant, who pointed out the world of difference between that and the “{plage .mondaine” of the fashionable cGsmqpulitan .type. No words could describe this little place more fitly than “plage intime.” Only they could suggest the friendliness and warmth which greet, one. together with the interest taken in the affairs of everyone.

No* a meddlesome interest b” any means, for if you wish to be aloof no one will intrude upon your self-imposed isolation. Here you are at liberty to do as you will. But should choose to be sociable you are accepted as one of a large family, the sole difference being that you are always met with tolerance, your ignorance of local customs passing overlooked, and the imperfections of your conversation allowed to go unridiculed. But you. on your part, anust. do your bit. You must be willing to treat the village shopkeepers as long-lost friends each time you meet and they, inquire after the satisfaction of your .last purchase.

You must daily appreciate that your special waiter at .the miniature Casino remembers just how many lumps of sugar you like in jour coffee, and never fails to drop that -extra chunk of ice into your cooler drinks. You must not forget that the busy person in overalls, sweeping the dust out of the Salle de Jeu early in the day, is that same person who presided, .resplendent in white shirt-front, over the table at which you lost or .won, the night before, and that the bow' he makes over his broom in the .morning is as ceremonious as that withwhich you are greeted when you throw your first stakes on to the table .in the evening. You must realise that each official is a personage in his own way, whether he be buying vegetables ic the market-place or functioning .at the Casino.

Perhaps it is all a little unconventional to the English way of thinking, but none the less friendly and warming to the heart, and when you get back home, and only acknowledge them to whom you have been introduced, and must ignore fanes that yon know as well as your own. because you are not formally acquainted, it sterns a bit chilly, but —well, next year is still to come!