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Hitch-Hiking In Europe, 1950
I was discharged from the army and immediately set out
from England to work my way round the world. In my
pocket I had five pounds only, a British passport, plus
a backpack and a change of clothes.
I crossed the English Channel on the Ferry and set foot
in France, my first foreign country. Soon, I was
hitch-hiking and having the time of my life. At night,
I slept in haystacks that seemed to cover that part of
France.
One of the strange sights in that era was the lorries
that were fuelled by wood burners, huge clouds of smoke
surrounding every vehicle. I received many lifts in
these vehicles.
At this time, hitch-hiking was a new development and
nearly every passing vehicle stopped and waved you
aboard. French drivers often stopped along the way at
roadside cafés and purchased Pernod or red wine, and
always invited me to join in and taste. Invariably, the
driver chatted to all the other patrons in the café and,
no doubt, told them who I was and, of course, they all
waved to me.
I always stood at the side of the road and thumbed a
ride. I used my hastily learned French, "You are going
to Paris?" This I echoed for every journey.
During my early days, I was picked up by a taxi driver
who took me to his home. I was introduced to his wife
who smiled and welcomed me. At this time, I didn't
speak a word of French, so the conversation was
conducted by sign language, which I very quickly became
quite good at, often miming and throwing my arms
around!
What a meal I had in this typical French home! Course
after course was laid before me, and I was introduced
to the real French way of dining. All food is eaten
separately, not in the English fashion of all together
on one plate. First of all, there was a steaming hot
bowl of soup, together with long baguettes of hot
crusty bread. Then a plate of potatoes was served with
olive oil. This was followed by a plate of frogs' legs
with hot mushroom-tasting liquid. Next came a plate of
steak and chips. My eyes lit up when the next course
arrived. It was a wonderful French pastry that had
cherries stuffed inside, accompanied by real dollops of
real cream.
A large bowl of fruit was then placed on the dining
table, with fruits I had never seen before. The final
course was a platter of various types of cheeses, blue
vein, Camembert ... so many that I lost count of them.
Last of all came a sugar bowl of milky boiled coffee.
Only in French homes will this be served like this, never in a
French restaurant overseas.
During all this eating and chatting, a continuous
supply of wine was placed on the table. At once, I
noticed they added water to their wine, this was an
excellent idea, since one could consume more without
becoming inebriated. I felt sorry for the wife as the
sink became piled high with dishes. In the end, I was
invited to stay the night. I declined as I thought
their hospitality so far was sufficient.
When I finally left, the taxi driver's wife threw her
arms around me and gave me a big kiss on the cheek. I
was most embarrassed.
Since that time, I have never had French food in a
restaurant anywhere else that compares with that meal.
When travelling, some things stay in the mind more than
others, and this was certainly one of them. This was
the commencement of my life-long love of France and the
French people.
Not very long after this, I arrived in Paris.
I left Paris and started hitch-hiking on the road to
Switzerland and passed the next few days with many
drivers who always stopped to pick me up.
Crossing the frontier from France into Switzerland was
an astounding contrast. In France there were dirty
streets, and fading façades to the buildings.
Immediately upon walking into Switzerland, my eyes
feasted on houses that looked as though they had just
been scrubbed down. Everything was gleaming and
spotlessly clean. No rubbish was to be seen anywhere.
The frontier police were also in magnificent uniforms
and spoke perfect English. I was able to ask directions
in English and find my way to the Jugenherbergen.
I was aware of the shining spic-and-span tram which silently
moved along the tracks as I raced to my destination.
I signed the register book in front of the concierge,
paid my bed fees and discovered a dormitory with many
beds. I soon found a bed to claim as mine. Looking
around, I noticed all the rooms were air-conditioned.
The self-help kitchen for travellers' use was most
modern with every kind of gadget. There were plenty of
clean tea-towels, cutlery, plates and cups.
That evening, I cooked a meal of spaghetti covered in
grated cheese and tomato sauce, with fresh bread to mop
the plate. I was surrounded by Americans, Canadians,
South Africans, Italians, French, Swedes and many other
nationalities. That evening was fantastic as I swapped
yarns on my travels and listened to the other wanderers
speaking of the fabulous places they had visited.
Inspecting the city of Basel on foot was a delight. My
biggest surprise of all was when looking in the front
windows of the various banks I saw blocks of gold
displayed there. Yes,
at that time it was possible to purchase real gold from
Swiss banks, the only country in the world where this
was possible.
Another phenomenon was the secret bank account, where
no name is recorded, just a number. Many dictators
around the world held accounts in this manner, so did
many criminals.
Another interesting part of Swiss culture was the
currency exchange kiosk. Go inside and see every
currency in the world for sale, from American Dollars
to Indian Rupees. Switzerland was deregulated even in
those days, the rest of the world didn't catch up until
the 1980s.
Switzerland produces the finest chocolate in the whole
world and has won the world award for this achievement
for over 50 years. I gathered this was because
Switzerland produced the best quality milk in the
world. I have always loved chocolate and really enjoyed
myself browsing the mini supermarkets before making my
choice.
No wonder Switzerland claims to be the most advanced
country in the world, with the highest standard of
living in the world. Switzerland wins this title every
year.
Nowhere did I see any poverty or any poor citizens.
There were no dilapidated houses and slums that you see
in many other countries. Total prosperity reigns for
all.
When I visited again in 1994 I found this still to be
the case.
During the 1930s the Swiss built endless hydro-electric
dams and power stations. This was excellent foresight as, today,
the Swiss supply free power to all citizens. The
impression is gained that Switzerland plans ahead for
20 - 30 years.
When travelling, Swiss citizens delighted in pointing
out all the places where the highways were mined with
explosives, in every direction to stop any invaders
from crossing into their country.
All Swiss men have to serve in the armed services and
are allowed to take their rifle home to keep for ever,
to be ready in case of an invasion. Actually, they have
enjoyed peace and prosperity for over 150 years now.
I met an Englishman who had been interned in a labor
camp for the duration of world war two. He just
happened to be in Switzerland when war was declared. I
gathered he lived like a king, eating the best food and
wine. This guy told me he wanted to live in Switzerland
for the rest of his life.
The truth is, though, that it is extremely difficult to
reside in Switzerland permanently. Even marrying a
Swiss national does not guarantee citizenship, nor do
years of residence. The whole process depends on the
Canton (municipality) where you live. The citizens
of this area vote and decide whether you will be
allowed to gain permanent citizenship. Most people
living in all cantons, normally vote NO!
In the same manner, for the last 50 years Switzerland
has allowed 'guest-workers' to work in Switzerland, but
are never granted citizenship or even permanent
residence. Whenever there is a small recession, the
Swiss authorities shift all guest workers by bus to the
borders with France, Austria, Germany or Italy and push
them over!
By this method, Switzerland experiences hardly any unemployment.
If the figure rises above 2%, the whole country panics.
In this way, they do not have the huge social security
payouts that obtain in other western countries. Plus
the fact the population remains fairly stable, with no
pressure for new infrastructure.
To my way of thinking, the Swiss have the perfect
system of democracy. All government legislation is
carried out by citizen-initiated referendums. No laws
can be passed in parliament without the citizens having
a vote first. There are many referendums held each
year. No Swiss government can increase taxation without
a referendum.
Another good point is the facility when a canton raises
10,000 protest signatures a local politician can be
dismissed from parliament. I am certain most countries'
citizens would like that opportunity too!
In all my travels I have never been to another country
where all the public transport runs to time and like
clockwork. Trains are never late, for example.
I travelled to the capital, Bern. It's a truly
beautiful city. The buildings are from the 16th
century, and all the shops are located in covered
arcades so that it is possible walk about in any type
of weather. The most wonderful sights are the great
clock towers, where golden figurines emerge at set
times, some beating a gong with a mallet. This was
magical, and I watched awestruck for a considerable
time. On the high side of town, there was an ornamental
rose garden, in which amazingly small deer ran around
everywhere. Brown bears were also kept in an enclosure,
delighting the many tourists.
All around the city, were vistas of snow-covered peaks.
Switzerland is famous for its skiing as they have snow
all the year round. However, because it is situated so
high, over four thousand feet on a plateau, the sun
shines most of the time.
When I arrived in Geneva, I found work as an advertising
salesman for an American owned English newspaper. I
visited night clubs and cafés and tried to induce the
proprietors to place advertisements. I was usually
successful as these establishments wanted to attract
tourists. Americans were the main tourists in those
days. Nobody else had any money!
During my time in Switzerland, I heard that coffee was
expensive and rationed in France and discovered it was
cheap in Switzerland. Chatting to some newly acquired
friends I decided that I should become a smuggler.
One of my friends spoke good French and he repeated a
few phrases of words and sentences that I would need. I
wrote these down in phonetic English so that I would
have the correct accent and pronunciation. Some of the
questions were as follows.
"Will you buy my coffee?" "How much will you pay?" "I
have x kilos of coffee." And the numbers 1 to 100.
Next, I visited a mini supermarket and purchased 18
kilos of coffee. I pressed and squeezed it all into my
rucksack. Over the top, I draped a shirt, nothing more.
This was not the normal style of smuggling, which
entailed criss-crossing over mountains. I would use
bravado and just walk straight through customs in a
nonchalant manner.
In due course, I set off walking out of Switzerland and
into France. My heart was beating fast with excitement.
The French customs post official was sitting in a
wicker chair, puffing away at a cigar. I produced my
British passport, suffered a quick inspection, au revoir, and a wave for me to pass through customs.
The officials never moved from their chairs. There was
no inspection of my rucksack!
Soon, I was hitch-hiking to a nearby town such as
Grenoble, then I wandered into a street café and asked
for the proprietor. I parroted my memorised French
sentence, "Will you buy my coffee?"
The proprietor asked how much I had and the price.
I replied - 18 kilos and the price.
The trade was soon agreed upon and I unloaded my coffee
onto the bar counter and waited as the owner counted
all my coffee bags. Then I was handed a wad of French
francs. Triumphant, I marched out, and around the
corner at another café ordered a plate of steak and
chips accompanied by a bottle of Vichy water. Wow! I
had succeeded!
Over the next few weeks, I carried across the border
many kilos of coffee in the same manner. However, I
always used a different border crossing so as not to
arouse suspicion. Luckily, Switzerland had numerous
customs posts in the Geneva area.
My policy was also to visit different towns in France
and not let people get to know my face. In small towns,
a foreigner is always highly visible.
In this manner, I slowly learned to speak and understand
French. In France, this is the best way to learn the
French language, for if you can't speak their language
they simply ignore you.
I had some fabulous rides in magnificent cars and never
knew who was going to pick me up. On one occasion, I
was picked up by an official from the American Embassy
in Rome. Along the way, he picked up another young man
and a girl. We stopped on the roadside high in the Alps
and this guy produced a hamper, which contained a
bottle of wine and chicken sandwiches. So we all sat on
the grass, under a perfect sunny sky, as we consumed
this delightful picnic meal, during which we all
chatted continuously. What a lovely day!
In Switzerland, I saw the most outstanding cars that I
have ever seen in my entire life. Really rich people
cruised around with real leopard skin seat upholstery.
Many of these luxurious cars were a one-off model,
complete with special number plates. An Argentinean
diplomat gave me a lift on one occasion from Paris to
Rome, and we talked about the state of the world. The
car was a Ferrari racing type vehicle and we zoomed
along at tremendous speeds.
The fun of hitch-hiking is that you never know who you
will meet. I once had a ride on the back of a
motor-cycle. What a ride, it was so exhilarating.
Unknown to me, this Swiss guy was taking part in an
Alpine race. The Swiss Alps are hundreds of miles of
winding and sweeping bends, so we raced up steep
gradients, the bike leaning over so much that I thought
I would touch the tarmac with my shoulders. Sometimes,
we passed more than 20 vehicles in one sweep. I held on
tightly and wondered if I would reach my destination
alive. After 4 hours, the bike stopped and the rider
conveyed to me that I had reached my fork in the road
and the direction I was heading in. I was frozen stiff
from the icy cold wind that had rushed past me.
Naturally, I was glad to walk for a while and warm up
again.
This was an area of fairytale-style Swiss log cabins in
such tiny villages, and was a real delight to stroll
and observe.
Once, when I was walking along the French Riviera, I
noticed a long train of luxurious vehicles in the
distance. I decided to try and get a lift. Soon, the
leading vehicle had reached me, the car sped by without
stopping. In the second car, I noticed a very beautiful
woman sitting in the rear. This car stopped and the
driver hopped out of the car and told me to get into
the following car, which he waved down. Once inside, I
discovered from the driver that the women I had just
seen in the earlier car, was none other than Rita
Hayworth, the film actress.
This driver mentioned that Rita often picked up
hitch-hikers. Wow!
I was overcome with astonishment, and so thrilled. What
a stroke of good fortune. Evidently, she was on her way
to the Cannes Film Festival.
I was dropped off in Monte Carlo.
Next, I was headed for Italy.
- Nomad
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