This post could have been sub-titled ‘Adventures of a travelling teacher,’ but really the title is quite long enough already. It seems I have inherited Dad’s love of the long and verbose sentence.
This letter marks the end of Dad’s full time travelling, and the commencement of his seven-year post at an English public boarding school in Kent. But fear not, the travels didn’t stop, they just were squeezed into weekends and school holidays.
This trip saw Dad back in Rome for the Olympic Games of 1960. His cousin was competing in the rowing events at the Games, so it was very exciting for dad to be there.
“So you wish to conquer in the Olympic games, my friend? And I too, by the Gods, and a fine thing it would be! But first mark the conditions and the consequences, and then set to work. You will have to put yourself under discipline; to eat by rule, to avoid cakes and sweetmeats; to take exercise at the appointed hour whether you like it or no, in cold and heat; to abstain from cold drinks and from wine at your will; in a word, to give yourself over to the trainer as to a physician. Then in the conflict itself you are likely enough to dislocate your wrist or twist your ankle, to swallow a great deal of dust, or to be severely thrashed, and, after all these things, to be defeated.” Epictetus
Making history was a fighter called Cassius Clay, later to become Mohammed Ali, who took home gold at the 1960 Games. And well, the rest, as they say, is history.
22/9/1960
Dear Mum and Dad,
My apologies for not writing sooner, in spite of the fairly hectic life I have been leading lately, it was mainly slackness on my part that let it drag. It in no way reflects my feelings of pleasure on Mim’s dramatic step. It was certainly a great shock and a pleasant surprise, I send them both my heartiest congratulations and I hope they will both be very happy. The prospect of having both you and the newlyweds over here shortly is most exciting and you can’t imagine how I am looking forward to it and I am very pleased to hear the wedding will not affect your travel plans at all. It seems to be working out very well.
By the way I just remembered two letters were sent out by surface mail as one hence the delay. I have 4 letters of yours to acknowledge. Have not heard about the insurance claim on the camera yet. Would you find out from Wastell and Cutter whether the prescription I sent you compares unfavorably with the last one they have and if so would they recommend another test?
I am very pleased to hear that the sarees have arrived at last, and so pleased that Mary likes them. There should be more things arriving soon, particularly some small carved animals in sandalwood. I was glad to hear that Ronald likes his new job and is getting good experience and pay, also to hear that John Scott is doing well at Grammar. Could you please send his mother’s address to me?
As far as Mary’s diploma is concerned, it will only carry weight in the Private schools over here and the shortage in these schools is felt more in the Primary section than the Sub-primary. But I don’t think it will too difficult to get a job in a good school if you live in. The difficulty is to find a school in, say, the Oxford area for example.
I am settling down at Coursehorn quite nicely, the people are very nice. It’s isolated and out in the country but really quite pleasant. One drawback is that my sleeping quarters are a five minutes walk across paddocks, or down a country lane from the main building.
Have made great use of my new duffle coat, gumboots and umbrella! We have had one or two nice days but on the whole it has been dull, dank, and miserable. And during the bad period a few days ago, which you would probably have read about in the newspapers, the shops in Cranbrook Village were flooded about 18 inches to a foot in water but it didn’t affect us here! One of our trees was struck by lightening!
I enjoyed very much the Games but not as much as if I had been doing them with a friend.
I was expecting to meet a German girl in Rome but she wrote to say she was recovering from an attack of pneumonia and couldn’t make it. Life in Rome nevertheless was quite hectic and I got a bit tired of it towards the end, so I disposed of my last two tickets and got a seat on a student flight to London on the afternoon of the 7th. It was half the normal fare £13/10/- and much more comfortable than a train. I felt that it was not worth rushing through Germany in less than a week as I originally planned so I took the opportunity to get back quickly and cheaply.
However it didn’t quite work out that way I left for the airport at 3:15pm on the 7th with the others, passing the 50 km walk on the way and finally got on the plane and prepared to take off. We then were told to get out again as the plane’s brakes were not responding and after a meal we were sent back to Rome, given another free meal at the air terminal.We were then taken on an all night coach journey to Rimini, about 60 miles from Venice, to catch another flight to London at 5am.
We arrived at the airport at 4.30am, just in time to see our airplane start to take off. The ground staff knew nothing of our coming and called the plane back, only to find there were four seats short. I volunteered to stay back and three others were drawn out of a hat. So I spent 24 hours in Remini at the airline’s expense, staying at the best hotel and having all I wanted in the way of food, cigarettes, and drinks. Good value for £13/10/- eh? I finally got into London about 9am on the 9th September, Rimini is a fashionable seaside resort and quite a pleasant little spot!
Thanks for posting the Aussie papers but I need the books, I think they may be in the chest of drawers in my room.
Life at the school so far has been easy and I haven’t had a great deal to do in the way of teaching. I have a group of boys most mornings and do remedial coaching with them.
On the weekend on the 15th I have been invited to visit Stratford-Upon-Avon with a friend I met in Amsterdam.
At the moment I am fighting a cold which I got in Rimini. The germ went to the left eye but it is much better now.
At the moment the boys are in the middle of the conker contests, a national pastime now, I have to supervise them when on duty to ensure fair play.
Love
Chris
Mim, is Dad’s sister Mary, not my mum, Mary, who is also known as Mim. If you think that’s confusing try coming from a family of males who called themselves by their middle name so my uncle Stewart Ronald, is Ron, while my dad, Ronald Christopher, is Chris. My grandpa, George Ronald, was Ron too. Got that? Good. It’s the Irish blood, I’m sure of it. Why be simple and straightforward when you can be convoluted and confusing!
Anyway Mim’s news was that she was getting married. Dramatic for dad due to the fact at nearly thirty, he was the oldest and the only unmarried sibling.
One thing that never ceases to bemuse me reading dad’s letters is the pace of communication. Letters took weeks; the saris dad sent from India seemed to take about seven months to arrive.
These days if my webpage doesn’t load in a second, I feel impatient. How fast everything is, how much we have sped life up. I don’t know if it’s such a good thing. Patience is a virtue, my grandmother always said. I guess she’d know after waiting for Dad’s parcels to arrive!
I love dad’s story of the ‘quick and cheap’ flight back from Rome. It seems the ubiquitous cheap airline convoluted delay story is not a new one. – at least dad knew how to make a party of it.
Conkers is a traditional children’s game in Britain played using the seeds of Horse Chestnut trees. The game is played by two players, each with a conker threaded onto a piece of string: they take turns striking each other’s conker until one breaks.
Britain is believed to be the only country in the world where the game of conkers is traditionally played with horse chestnuts in the autumn. Horse chestnut trees were first introduced to England in the late 16th century from Eastern Europe.
The first recorded game of conkers was on the Isle of Wight in 1848 and was modelled on a 15th century game played with hazelnuts, also known as cobnuts.
Ah! The english and their games.
Images:
Dad's travel diaries 