For some reason the French were in turmoil for most of the 50’s and 60’s.  Like Britain they were stuck with rebellious colonies but unlike Britain the worst was next door.  A sort of a giant IRA threat.

During the early 50’s they suffered a huge defeat at Dien Bien Phu - literally their Vietnam and like the yanks had a humiliating defeat.  This actually kicked off the whole Vietnam thing and the division into two states.   Then came Suez which we have already discussed.  And then came the Algerian War.   This raged in both Algeria and In Paris for many years,  The French were killing indiscriminately in the 100’s.  Paris was surrounded by troops.  There were even machine guns on the top of the Arc de Triomphe and tanks surrounding.  They tried to blow up de Gaulle several times as shown in the famous Film ‘Day of the Jackal”.

In the midst of all this Paul and myself decided to go to Paris by scooter.  I went a few months before on my Lambretta and even got stopped outside of Paris by 2 gendarmes on Motorcycles.  They were very  threatening and aggressive.  Still we made the best of it and luckily there were no bombs or riots while we were there.  Paul and Bill followed shortly afterward on their Vespa.  As far as I am aware, except for the intimidating ambience, they suffered no ills either.  Mind you in those days Lambretta owners didn’t talk to Vespa owners but I don’t remember them even having the Vespa and I don’t think if was for long. (Paul just informed me they had it for 5 years and rode to London almost every day0

De Gaulle did manage to live through the crisis and Algeria was granted freedom just like Tunisia and Morocco before them but it is still a restless country today.  De Gaulle went further to humiliate himself when he visited Quebec a few years later and declared “QUEBEC LIBRE” -   He was a serious thorn in the side of the Anglo-Saxon world right from WW11 until well into the years of the EEC.  He famously said NON to the UK joining the EU.

We have a little montage of some of the events during the late 50’s and early 60’s

top image is the Arc with tanks, top right the Gendarmes in Paris with machine guns.  middle left a war poster,  middle right (main) Paul and Bill with the Vespa,  2 small insets upper circular the plaque in London where de Gaulle had his WW11 HQ and below that the French Africa medal for 1959.  Bottom left my Lambretta, next bottom the leader of the OAS proclaiming they will win,  next to the right is Paul having a fag on the steps of Versailles and bottom right the Montreal headlines following de Gaulle’s infamous speech.  A busy few years.

Our return journey to North America was on the SS Italia.  This was a mongrel vessel of the Hamburg line sailing via Southampton to New York.   It was only about the same size as a St. Lawrence steamer at 22k but being an old 1928 vessel again, it held 1100 passengers including 3rd class. At this time all the liners were busy carrying visitors and emigrants to Canada so it wasn’t easy to get a boat when we wanted to.  It wasn’t a great ship but it had a nice atmosphere with loads of French Military for some reason.  We also stopped by at Le Havre so it was nice to see that. Dad also enjoyed himself with midnight dalliances with an Australian lady - Mum was not impressed but he only had 2 years to live so we forgave him.  We duly arrived at New York and were very impressed with the Statue of Liberty and the various attractions of New York.  Basically it is a dump, especially after London, but these sights made up for it a bit.  We had only a short time in New York so our luggage was bonded for transit on the train.  This was our first glimpse of a New York rip off.  To have your luggage bonded you had to have it steel strapped to get through the customs - or so we were told.  They wanted to charge us 8 bucks per case for the privilege.  At that time, it seemed a lot of money ,but argue as we did, or as I did, they would not relent so we had to part with about 72 bucks to seal all the cases.  We also went up the Empire State.  At that time, it was fairly open at the top and not too many anti jumper barriers.  Very, Very impressive.  This also started our romance with the Queen Mary and we photographed the dear old Queen floating down the Hudson ready to dock.  After our brief stay in New York, we were off on the train from Grand Central Station and up to Canada.  Nice trip but after England you are a bit shocked by the ‘shacks’ you see at the side of the tracks.  We had noticed this on earlier trips to the U.S. especially in the deep south.  All the buildings seem to be single story, temporary and not very impressive.  Probably emphasised after seeing all the high rise in New York.  Anyway we were back home in Canada but not for long.

Just two years later we were off again.  Dad had been very ill, this time with a slipped disc and I think he had had enough of manual labour.  So once again we sold up and booked another passage back to England.    This time we went back on the Saxonia.  Another St Lawrence vessel and virtually the same size as the Carinthia and about the same amenities.  it was part of a group of 4 ships built for this route. The other two were the Sylvania and the Ivernia - all built on the Clyde to the same spec. It was also a bit of a coincidence as the ship was renamed the Carmania in 1962 and this is the vessel that Bob returned to Canada on, 2 years later.  Once again we took a car back but this time we were pretty well determined to stay.  So off we went on our 1000 miles of tranquility but as usual after passing Newfoundland we were roicking and rolling once again..  We were however, a lovely shade of green - very colourful.  For some reason  on this trip we docked at Southampton. We watched as the car was winched off the boat then at the last minute they decided to drop it.  It was only a few feet but I am sure the old girl was never quite the same afterward.  While we were coming into Southampton we spotted the dear old Queen Mary coming out.  Lovely to see the old girl again.  This time we had no intention of flogging the car, Dad was going to keep it for a while but he didn’t realize he was going to die just 2 years later and Mum didn’t drive, so she sold if for  a song.    

Our story doesn’t quite finish as our love affair with the dear old Queen Mary didn’t end.  Just after Dad died, my sister, Pat, got a bit lonely so she decided she wanted to come back to England to stay with Mum.  She and her  daughter were booked, first class, on the Queen Mary.  Again it came into Southampton and we had to hire a taxi to take us down and pick up Pat and kid. Unfortunately London and southern England was still plagued by pea soupers. (Heavy fog)  This was no exception and in fact one of the worst.  We crawled the 100 miles to Southampton - took hours, picked up Pat and Karen and crawled back.  Cost a fortune.  Mum paId for the lot including the boat trips,  Pat didn’t take to England, especially with the pea souper start, so just a few weeks later she decided to go back.  And, guess what, she went back on the Queen Mary.  Mum paid for the lot once again.

But our story doesn’t quite end here.  We did a massive trip to North America a few years later.  Travelling coast to coast taking in literally all the major sights of the U.S. plus touching into Mexico and back to Ontario and Quebec and stayed with Paul.  We travelled 10,000 miles in 16 days but that is another story  (I have actually written a book about it)  While we were on the West Coast we visited San Diego and guess what,  the Queen Mary which was then a museum and a hotel.  It was lovely to see the old girl.   I later found out that it is not San Diego but Long Beach..  It is lovely that such a beautiful old ship has been so tastefully preserved.  Only the yanks could have done it justice.

As it happened the 50”s was the last decade when transatlantic visitors still went by ship.  Our first ‘boat’ was the Empress of France.  Because of the time factor we actually travelled First Class.  Dad wanted to go back to New Zealand but there was a 2 year wait for £5 poms so decided to join Sandy in Canada at the last minute.  Only first class was available.  We favoured the St Lawrence crossing as it docked at Montreal - just a train ride away from Stratford where Sandy lived.  The Empress of France was a comfortable liner and as I was only 6 years old and had never known anything except rationing it was a luxury trip for me.  I used to love roast beef but at home we could hardly ever get it.  On the boat I ate beef for breakfast, lunch and dinner.  Weather and seasickness permitting.  Apart from that I don’t remember too much about the trip except getting to the railway station and falling asleep on the platform - I was so tired.  My arms must have worn out crossing the Atlantic.  This was a typical St. Lawrence liner weighing in at just over 21,000 tons and carrying around 1000+ passengers.  It was quite an old boat, built in 1928.

Our next boat was the Carinthia.  This was part of a fleet designed specifically for the St Lawrence.  I have included an image of the boat passing under Quebec bridge. Looks like it twanged it by about 4 feet.  The trip back to England via the St Lawrence is magnificent.  You have 1000 miles of river before you hit the open sea.  As soon as you pass Newfoundland all hell breaks loose.  We always seemed to travel in the winter so it was at its worst.  From a luxury crossing it became puke up time.  All the Cunard ships sailing the St Lawrence were medium sized - about 22k tons.  They couldn’t build them any bigger due to the St Lawrence.  They were comfortable but not quite big enough to provide a smooth crossing.  Far from it.  But the grub and the service was great.  After we got over the seasickness it was a great time.  We spent a lot of time looking at the icebergs (memories of the Titanic)  and watching the little 8k freighters diving below the rough seas.  This time we docked at Liverpool and once again had a look at the magnificent Liver Birds on top of the Liver buildings fronting the docks.  We also stopped briefly at Belfast, which was my first trip to the emerald isles (first of many hundreds) so it was a bit different. On this occasion Dad decided to bring a car back to England.  Cars were much cheaper in Canada at that  time.  What he didn’t take into account was LHD.   A left hand drive car in England is worth almost nothing.  So our fantastic Zephyr fetched just a couple of hundred pounds when we sold it a few weeks later to return to Canada - smart move Dad,

This is th final part of the Ocean Liners and is just the image description and the image itself

Apparently there is a limit to the length of story that can be included

montage:- top left the Carinthia at Liverpool (sister ship of the Saxonia later named Carmania)  top centre the Empress of France breakfast menu, top right Empress of France, 2nd row LH Carinthia Breakfast, next immigration landing cards, next is Carinthia just scraping under Quebec bridge, RH the auto check for the Saxonia. 3rd row down LH the SS Italia plus in the same image a freighter about the same size as Paul came over (8,000 tons), next the customs shed in New York and right is the expensive bonded baggage in transit  label seal -

Bottom row is the view of the Queen Mary on the Hudson from the Empire State and bottom right is the Queen at LongBeach and the small inset is Pat’s embarkation info from New York

We made quite a few trips to Scandinavia covering a large part of the area and certainly enjoyed the many trips.  One of the big features of these trips is the ferries.  You cannot get around Scandinavia without sailing on a huge number of ferries.  especially at that time, before the bridge.  The smorgasbord was a really special feature of Scandinavia cuisine and extremely enjoyable.  We also spent many enjoyable trips to Italy but again were never particularly impressed with the cuisine but in later years visiting specialist Italian restaurants in the UK we learned to enjoy both meat and vegetarian Italian dishes and it is probably fair to say that remains one of our favourite cuisines.

 All in all over the years we have probably sampled every European Cuisine including many East European areas such as Polish, Czech etc., but I always favoured the German Cuisine although many others seemed to borrow from the German traditions.  I can remember many times visiting the Oktoberfest in Munich and drinking in one of those huge tents  and noshing some lovely local kartoffelsalat mit wurst - probably one of the best experiences you can get.. You have to admire French cuisine but you need to go a long way to find a really good restaurant meal.  (and pay quite a bit)  In the early years we used to get quite a few items from the French Hypermarkets that were blossoming at the time and you could certainly find some lovely items, many at very low prices.  Unfortunately you can also get some horrible stuff.  My French is not too good but one day on the Cote D’azure while we were self catering I picked up what I thought was onion rings and it turned out to be worms - I was not impressed.  During the recent horse meat scandal in the UK it emerged how much the French and other nearby continentals consume horse meat -  yuk|  It also appears that a lot of South American beef is also horse meat in disguise. I never really got into eating my favourite pets.

That is probably what put me offf Eastern cuisine.  I could never really look at a Chinese meal without expecting it to meowe or  woof although Paul and  I spent many hours in Wings Chinese restaurant in Wingham  (or was it Lees?)  But we did not eat the grub we drank cokes which we then sprayed at each other and around the room a la F1 style. We also got kicked out and banned for this rather questionable pastime.  I recall going on a kitchen design  course in North London and the whole party went for a  Chinese that evening.  That night I had to call the doctor and went home missing the course.  We also had a kitchen studio in later years and unfortunately it was right beside an Indian Restaurant - very attractive at the front and interior  from the decor viewpoint but around the back the piles of garbage, the stench and the RATS was horrible.  We do not eat Indian.  We didn’t bother too much with other Eastern cuisines except when we discovered Thai.  We used to stay in a lovely new hotel just north of Dublin on our many trips to Ireland.  They used to serve  aThai curry which Angela became addicted to - it was delicious.  We also went through a period of cooking Indian and Thai meals - especially curry’s - at our home cuisine.  My kitchen design experience over those many years also introduced me to many new gadgets such as tepanyaki hobs, steamers, etc.  My retail days in electrical appliances also made me familiar with many different cooking methods and I was probably one of  the first to sell Microwaves starting in the 1960’s. I personally acquired one in the mid 70’s and in our house at Aviemore we survived purely on a microwave and when we left the hotel we used two microwaves in our next 2 houses and produced reams of sparkling dishes purely with a microwave.

I sampled the North American cuisine in depth  from coast to coast in later years and basically met the same sort of Howard Johnson food experienced earlier.  It probably suffered over the years and certainly didn’t quite live up to some of the really great European dishes.  When we finally arrived in Toronto we were treated to a real North American quality restaurant.  Superb ambience but the food didn’t quite match.  The beef was not really Canadian it was served to Yankee standards and was virtually raw and literally inedible.  I remembered the classic remark about every American having 5 lb of undigested raw meat in his intestines when he/she died.  If they went to this restaurant they would probably reach that stage at about age 30.  I never really understood the fetish for having raw undercooked meat.  Even in the UK we have many cooks extolling the virtues of lamb blushing at a the heart.  However I have to say that I no longer eat ‘bah’ lambs.  Nor do I wish to sample joey meat (kangaroo) or crocodile.

After all these culinary experiences what is my conclusion.  Unfortunately, as you know, once the age becomes more advanced the bowel and bladder syndrome starts to kick in.  You may have  lovely vision of the food you are going to cook or buy in a restaurant but the guts either complain before you get there or after you have been.

I must confess that as a matter of choice I am eating less and less meat and moving more towards the vegetarian options that my wife and son have been consuming these many years,  I suppose when I eat meat  I want something that doesn’t particularly look like meat but not some quorn substitute.  My favourite is probably a British Rail Pork Pie.  But unfortunately that brings up memories of when Paul and Denise came over for a big trip many years ago and Denise decided to consume a large British Rail Pork pie (continued)

…………. sitting in a restaurant on the sidewalks of the Champs Elysee.  We were enjoying a genuine French meal and had a street entertainer - magician- who popped along during the meal to entertain us.  It was a very impressive scenario but I honestly didn’t think much of it from a cuisine viewpoint.  Still it was better than Mcdonald’s which had just opened an outlet in the Champs Elysee.  But my most vivid memory of French cuisine was a rural restaurant not that far from Versailles.  looked quite quaint and we nearly settled down to a fully fledged French peasant meal and then this big hairy dog walked in.  We left at that moment.  I don’t think they had ever studied food hygiene.

THIIS IS THE END OF CUISINE PART 2

…………………pie just before the Hovercraft was about to embark on a particularly rough trip .  She soon realised after a few minutes that wasn’t a good idea.  Still maybe not a British Rail Pork pie perhaps a Virgin Rail Cornish Pastie??? - sounds great.

But getting old has its own considerations. At one time having a good time was a great nosh, loads of booze, stagger home and kip it off.  Now, if we go to the theatre the main consideration is, how many bogs are there, how close can we get to them.   When will the big stampede occur to get to the bog.  How long is it until the interval?  Can I hold it until then?  Even going to a mate’s house is  a major consideration and going to a hotel with only one bog in the room beggars the issue - how long will the wife take in the morning?

However, I must say, as long as it doesn’t take too long and I am sitting next to the gents I still enjoy a good quality restaurant meal - especially if someone else is paying.  We had just such a meal near Epsom Downs when Paul visited this year.  I am delighted to say that he did pay.  I heartily enjoyed the experience.

I don’t pretend to be a Foodie.  In fact the English are often vilified for their boring cooking.  However, I have travelled quite  bit, especially around Europe and North America, and I do cook a lot.  Sometimes I am the only cook around.  I also ran a very busy hotel for a couple of years.  I recall one day at the hotel we entertained 1000 people, most of them were eating.  We had around 200 covers during the day in our restaurant.  About 300-400 in the main bars and the public bar, many consuming bar meals.  Plus we had about 300 in our ballroom - it was humming that night and everyone eats a full scale meal.  In addition we had around 150 in our downstairs ballroom/disco most of whom purchased a disco snack.  The place was unbelievably crowded and the bogs were overflowing.  One of the least attractive features of the hotel was the plumbing.  The hotel was a very attractive building originally built in 1887 but with not too many facilities.  The previous owner expanded it enormously and very tastelessly and added en suite rooms,  a complete motel unit and a ballroom with toilets etc.  There were only 3 public bogs plus limited facilities in the ballroom.  And that was it.  they used to queue for hours to get into the bogs but we craftily placed a bar just a few feet from the bogs so they could imbibe whilst queuing.  The plumbing for the waste was ‘state of the art”.  the waste was sent down a gully to a stream that fed directly into the River Tay and was basically not far short of raw sewage being dumped into the river and lake.  But there was a lot of water around so nobody noticed unless they trod directly in it.  The authorities were all aware of this illegal situation but there were so many other hotels in the area that also had crude tactilities nobody dared to do much about it.

Anyway on with the grub.  My Mum was a wonderful cook.  Paul will always attest to the fact that her cooking was boring but first rate.  Her pies and cakes were especially noteworthy.  Her vegetables were diabolical.  I recently saw an interview on TV and the comment ‘my Mum used to boil the veg for a week’ - about right. But overall you knew you were going to get a great meal and afters.  She kept this up right up until she was 93 and then began to lose it a bit.  Unfortunately the meals were almost always the same but they were pretty well cooked, or overcooked, in the case of the veggie.

I must admit to always being impressed by North American family restaurants including the one we stayed over in London, Ontario.  i was especially keen on Howard Johnson’s restaurants.  I have many memories of Howard Johnson meals throughout our many trips to the US;  just a little bit up market and a great menu - i thought.  Of course the food on the boats was always magnificent, but strangely enough i did not have a great impression of the SS Italia which was registered in Hamburg and probably had a mixture of European cooking - I don’t think you could call it cuisine.  I suppose my widest experience of cooking was at the Hotel.  I wasn’t really that confident about my own cooking and frankly I was just too busy most of the time.  We actually had 5 chefs in total with 2 part timers.  We also did outside catering so gained a huge experience of the whole thing.  We were famous for serving Scottish fare with haggis,  pheasant, venison and especially  good at Salmon.  We used to get a variety of odd people at the door flogging whole salmon - quite cheaply.  We later found that they had been poached (or perhaps it was fried)  We used to serve the Castle down the road from the hotel but i don’t think they noticed the loss of a few fish - or a few hundred?.  It was certainly great food and one of the reasons for the early success of the hotel.  It was also about the time of Prince Charles wedding to Lady Di so we laid on some special fare for the bank manager et al.  Out head chef had some good ideas but he was no Michelle Roux or even a Jamie Oliver  Still we tried.  I recall sitting in the restaurant and listening to some toffy nosed Englishman scoffing at our feeble attempts to provide Gourmet Cooking.  he had visited before and commented at how good our Scottish fare was and how bad our Gourmet offerings were.  I later corresponded with him via his bank but he did not relent and simply repeated his insults.

Right after the hotel Angela became a vegetarian, probably through seeing all that expensive meat being wasted and left around the kitchen uncovered.  While we lived near Dundee she also took a catering course at Dundee University which was quite well known for that subject.  they used to study a lot about food hygiene; there was very little of that in the Hotel.. We had many a running battle with our chefs over that subject.  The food wastage was enormous and our beef bill was absolutely huge.

We had always done a lot of travelling throughout the UK and had visited almost every town in the British Isles mainland so had sampled a lot of grub.  We had also done our 10,000 miles North American trip by then and completed dozens if not hundreds of European trips.  One of my best experiences was German Cuisine.  One of my best mates in Croydon was of German descent and had German parents.  Mrs Moeller served up some wonderful, fully authentic,  German cooking - stuffed cabbage was one of my favourites.  On many trips to Germany we used to really enjoy the wonderful kartoffellsalat which we consumed by the bucket load.  Although we travelled through France on many occasions and especially loved the south of France, I can honestly say we were never that impressed with French cooking.  We had a very, very busy holiday with Paul and Denise one year and covered a huge area of France, visiting about 12 chateau of the Loire in one day. 

I have kept the subject of Canadian TV as a separate topic.   The CBC tended to copy the path of the BBC and was a little boring for that.  TV did not start in Canada until 1952 and we were up and running shortly after John Merkley who, I believe, had the first set.  Prior to that you could get U.S. TV and John certainly got a lot of channels we didn’t get.  i think most of ours came from London but he regularly received Buffalo etc.  I don’t remember any Canadian TV from those early days but I do remember one day when we were around at Gordon Leggatt’s house with my parents that we were watching a CBC play starring Shane Rimmer.  He was quite youngish then and he was a bit of a Richard Burton lookalike in those days.  He looked like he had great promise.  Apparently he followed us over to England and was appearing, mostly in support roles, on a huge range of programmes.  Unfortunately he got tied up with Gerry Anderson’s puppet shows and was a voiceover in Thunderbirds.  After that he never really achieved his potential but he did appear in a load of films including some James Bond.  I am sure he had a pretty good earning life and he always seemed to be a level headed character so no boozing the loot away like Burton.  He is still living in the UK at the age of 84 and judging by the address it is probably worth a few bob.  If you check out the history of Canadian actors in the UK the list is very short.  In fact the only one that comes immediately on the list is Miss Moneypenny - Lois Maxwell.  Even Robert Beatty who was in the UK since before the war doesn’t get much of a mention on the info channels.  In fact I was quite surprised at how few have made it over here.  

The other notable Canadian  ( I am not even considering the vast number of Canadian notables who made it in Hollywood - most of them were imitation yanks anyway)  is Paul Gross.  His DUE SOUTH series about a dedicated Mountie kept us enraptured for months.  It was a great programme  with a great sense of humour that you don’t find in US programmes.  Although this gave him a lot of exposure he didn’t seem to capitalise on it.  I have seen his name mentioned on the cast of some fairly interesting movies but never been keen enough to watch one.  There is still time left for him to shine but not much.

The real success story for Canadian TV is with Larry Levinson and the Hallmark channel.  With digital TV we now have a vast number of channels to watch.  The channel numbers currently run from 1 - 800.  But we recently started to notice some ‘Thriller’ or ‘Crime Drama’ shows on Channel 5 which mostly shows American rubbish.   These were TV movies in general and there was something a little more sophisticated about them compared to plastic US shows.  The accents were also a little more refined with some more delicate Canadian vowels..  Sure enough at the end of the movie up comes  ‘QUEBEC FILM BOARD’   or  BC film.   it seems that a lot of these were shot partly in Quebec or BC under some advantageous tax provisions just like the Irish Film Industry.  There  is quite a catalogue of them and they have scenes shot directly in the US town they are supposedly based but a lot of the Extras are Canadian and doing a great job.  I don’t know how many were made or are still being made but they are high quality and a great credit to the Canadian artists and TV - Film industry.  Well done Canada!

Following on from Paul’s article about 50’s cars it has inspired me to write a broader article about this very important subject. There is a huge amount of historical interest about this subject not the least of which was that North America was the automobile powerhouse of that era and it was one of the most important aspects of life in that era.

The U.S. was by far the largest producer of cars at that time and Canada was also a very Important production base.  Surprisingly, the UK was the second largest producer of cars.  Now Canada produces more cars than the UK?  If you look at the headline images you can see that the U.S. accounted for  80% of the cars produced in that decade.  Amazing, but you need to cast your mind back to the war when vehicle production was at its most frantic & transferred to the same sort of frenetic activity after the war.  The demand for cars & motor travel was huge, with freeways popping up everywhere.  We were just the same in Canada, taking to the road in great numbers - albeit often in old bangers.  European imports were quite large but compared to the American production just a drop in the ocean. Paul shows that his cars were largely English.  The UK was also a production powerhouse and that is one of the reasons we won the war.  The English manufacturers were churning out quality, advanced cars in quite large numbers plus a lot of old fashioned cars as well.  The Jaguar was hugely successful at that time and I remember admiring a brochure of the XK120 sunning itself in California.  Before the war Jaguar exported only 10% of its production - after the war and in the 50’s it exported nearly 90%   The other quintessentially English car which became so famous in later year was the Aston Marin - the DB series was the finest quality sports car for many decades.  The first XK120 was delivered to Clark Gable in 1949 - the name in fact is indicative of the speed, the fastest production car at the time.  All the British sports cars were hugely popular and hugely successful.  The joke of the period was BMW - now one of the most important car manufacturer’s in the world with production in the US, China & the U.K.  At the time the best they could come up with was the ISETTA an Itaiian bubble car using a scooter engine, designed in Italy and produced in Germany.  It was actually quite a cute little vehicle and you could drive it on a motorcycle licence - I nearly bought one but luckily changed my mind at the last minute.  To be fair to the Germans they had a big success with the VW Beetle and Campervan , Mercedes was well admired for the gull winged sports car of the 50”s. And we must remember Dr. Porsche who designed the lot and was building a huge reputation to cash in on in later years.

The French manufacturers were also producing some classic cars and I remember Paul enthusing about the Peugeot in those years.  The Italians also produced some beautiful cars but the quality was crap.  I owned a number of Lancia’s some years later and they all literally rusted away - total rubbish but lovely to look at.  The really sad thing was the Japanese motor industry.  They were trying to recover from the ravages of the war and producing diabolical unreliable rubbish.  If you read the articles at that time, everyone slated Japanese cars, the byword of the time was CRAPPY JAPPY.  But we let them learn how to make better cars and by buying their cheap rubbish at the time we gave them the resources to build better and better cars.  Not much more than a decade later the Japanese Cars were admired and Detroit had the reputation for some of the worst cars in the world with only the Eastern Europeans making even more laughable junk.

So now are are in the new Century.  The U.K. has just overtaken France in car production but nearly all our cars are built by the Japanese or the Germans although our designers remain in the UK and contribute to the Jaguar and other fine vehicles (owned now by TATA an Indian company).  Our biggest car manufacturer - BRITSH LEYLAND the producer of all those English Austins, Morrises, Humbers etc that we saw so much of in Wingham was sold to the Chinese.  It is estimated that China will soon become the Car workshop of the world and may even take over the U.S. crown of producing around 80% of the world’s cars as U.S. did in the 50’s.

One bright spot is Canada.  Car production in Canada is still very healthy and should remain so for some time.

I must confess that most of my cars over recent years have been French with a smattering of German but my heart is still with the French cars.  Vive la Genevieve.

I was considering the media articles and although I had proposed a story about the favourite movies of the 50’s it came to mind that from my viewpoint there is one really outstanding movie of the 50’s that has a lot of meaning for me and my family, perhaps above all others.

That move is the great British classic - Genevieve.  I am sure they repeat it in Canada nearly as much as they do here.  These last few weeks I think we have found it on at least 10 different channels on various days and times.

The significant aspect of the movie from my viewpoint is the time and place we first saw it.  Although the film was made in 1953 and released in the States the year later we first saw the film in London, Ontario in 1957, the year after we left Wingham and one year before we returned to the UK for the final time.  It was  a small cinema just over the river and not very far away from where we were living in Ridout St.  I seem to recall it was a sort of an art cinema probably showing a lot of Continental and British movies as it was a long way from the main downtown cinemas .

It has also just reminded me of the time when Paul and Bob visited me in London and we fancied seeing the latest Brigitte Bardot film which was showing downtown.  Now this was an 18 certificate so the chances of Bob getting in were pretty slim.  He was always the baby faced member of the group.  So we spent the best part of a day forging some ID so that he could get into the film.  Paul and I didn’t bother a we looked so mature anyway - we couldn’t possibly fail.  When push came to shove and we showed up at the theatre that evening, Bob got in without any problem but they wouldn’t let either me or Paul in.  We were gutted.  None of us saw the film in the end.

Anyway I digress.  We were on our way to see Genevieve.  This was the only time we had been to the cinema as a family in London and indeed that last time that I ever went with my father who died just over 2 years later.  We all loved the film but I didn’t really understand the film as I should have.  It was a quaintly English film - not a British film but an English film.  It was very much about the situation in the 50’s when times were tough and also about the attitude of the 50’s.  Because of the clothes that were being worn, part of the time, I thought it was a period piece and it wasn’t till I saw the film, many years later, that I understood it was about the Veteran Car run which is held  annually for 50+ year old cars from London to Brighton.  Only then did it click.   I should have twigged really as the picture of Sandy and Yvonne in  their period costumes in the 1899  Leroy was precisely what this picture was all about.   It was a classic line up of English stars - Dinah Sheridan the oldest by far but still looking young and fresh in those days.  Kay Kendall ,who sadly died at age 37.  Kenneth Moore who was the biggest star in the UK for many years and John Gregson a veteran of many films and quite a few war films  Sadly he died at an early age as well.  What I didn’t realize that part from not being English (I thought he was Scottish) he was actually Irish.  You certainly cannot detect that in his accent.

Anyway a great film, very enjoyable and very entertaining with lots of comic relief.  A lot of the aspects of the film really came to life when we returned to England the next year and the funny part about the hot water was actually true.  The whole film became really familiar as I used to work in London crossing Westminster Bridge on my scooter almost every day.  One of our favourite spots to visit was Brighton.  The south coast was a huge magnet for weekenders and the roads in those days were incredibly busy.  It wasn’t unusual to have traffic jams all over the south of England with day trippers going to and from the coast -  it was a big pain but with a scooter we managed to avoid a lot of it.

Curiously, we also purchased one of our first houses in Horley which is almost a half way point for the London to Brighton run.  Many a year we used to stand on the corner outside the Chequers Hotel waiting for the old bangers to splutter by -  great times.

One of the curious features about this wonderful film is that film buffs and historians don’t rate it all that highly.  There are quite a lot of supporting stars in the film as well, so it is a bit surprising.  I had assumed that it would automatically be in the Top 10 list of British films of the 50”s - nope.  Ok we’ll have a look at the Top 100 - not even in that list.  In fact there really is very little historical reference or appreciation of this wonderful film.

Still my Mum and Dad and I and my current wider family all enjoy and enjoyed it so that is probably the most important acknowledgment of its lasting ability.and quality.

When we returned from Canada in 1958  I got to know the N. London Riders well, especially  my cousin John, who was older than I, & very sociable.   I used to cycle to Swiss Cottage in N. London to see him and my Nan - almost very Sunday.  It was actually a long gruelling trip, about 30 miles in total, but i got used to it and took about an hour and a quarter each way.  John was born in 1935 - 2 years before my sister (1937)

We happened to be at the movies watching the ‘HellFire Club’ (based on a true story set in High Wycombe).  John mentioned that Adrienne Corrie (who was in the film)  was a cousin of Nan (Nan’s maiden name was Corrie).  I was even there one Sunday when she came to visit Nan.
Afterwards I made a bit of a study of her and her career.  The bio did not quite match up to what we knew.  She was actually born in Glasgow of italian parents in 1931 - just a couple of fears older than John  (however another authority says she was born in Edinburgh in 1930)  but  it was her Dad that was italian.  Her Mum was English-surname of Smethhurst.  She also mentioned that she used the name Corrie because it was a family name. Very confusing as she used both the Corri spelling - stage persona - and the Corrie spelling - family persona.  I know she was a relative as I met her when she visited my Nan but the bio seemed to contradict some of that. In later years, at our hotel, we met some Italians in Kirriemuir who said they had a relation called Adrienne Corrie  Although they didn’t know much about her they thought she wasn’t Italian but had been adopted by the half Italian family in Glasgow. I was too busy with my hotel to get involved with the history at that time but I did study it later & confirmed the facts about her parents but could not confirm the family relationship.  Questions of biography are not all that uncommon with movie stars.  Take David Niven: throughout his life he maintains that he was born in Kirriemuir - near our  hotel.  On his death his birth certificate said he was born in London?  There are dozens of Niven’s still living in Angus disputing these claims.  Records were not so accurate in those days.

Adrienne had a very mixed career. The most important part was in Dr. Zhivago.  She also starred in some crappy horror films.  The other Highlights were Hellfire Club & Quo Vadis.  She also did some quality TV such as Danger Man, Doctor Who, Agatha Christies & some fine stage work.    Interestingly I found a flyer for her part in an Agatha Christie play at the Theatre Royal-Brighton.  Just 2 weekends ago we went to this same theatre to see a murder mystery. The most infamous appearance, for which she is well remembered, was Clockwork Orange.  Although this was classed as an excellent Stanley Kubrik film it was banned in the UK for decades and reports vary as to her relationship with Kubrik - some say she kept in touch for years,  others say she never spoke to him again and felt totally humiliated. She also wrote a much praised book about Gainsborough.
I also discovered there was a Canadian connection; she married  Daniel Massey who was who was a big star in his own right, & the son of Raymond Massey-a huge star in the 1930”s. (also related to Massey-Harris)  Adrienne is also the sister in Law of Anna Massey, a major star in the UK & appeared in many Poirot and other Agatha Christie TV drama.   Perhaps even more weird is that she divorced Daniel Massey and married Derek Fowlds.  Why strange?  You remember Derek Fowlds from ‘Heartbeat’ fame as Oscar.  I know you see ‘Heartbeat’ in Canada, (Paul often mentions it)  The weird part is that Derek Fowlds was half of Basil Brush children’s entertainment package - hugely popular in the UK in the 60’s. Angela (my Wife) took Stephan (my son) to see the Basil Brush show at the Fairfield Hall - Croydon.

A bigger coincidence was after my mother died & I published my family history on line.  Sandy’s family still live in Ontario & Wayne - his son - still lives  in Stratford. Wayne asked if his elderly friend could access the site to have a look at the Adrienne Corri stuff.  Apparently this chap, who had emigrated from England some years earlier, resided in North London at that time, & dated Adrienne Corrie a few times.  He didn’t  know very much about her background but did confirm that she visited the Rider’s during those years.
It is still a mystery but we are confident she is a relative of some sort.

Brian Rider

I mentioned the swinging 60’s in one of my stories, this reminded me of the UFO club and that fateful day.  This was right in the middle of the 60’s and I and a couple of mates and my future wife, Angela, decided to pop up to the infamous UFO club in Tottenham Court Road in swinging London.  Although this road  leads to north London, the club itself was just off Oxford St. and around the corner from the Post Office tower.  In those days you could dine in the tower - that was before the IRA made it too dangerous.  But we did enjoy some pleasant times up there going round in circles.  Mind you, the revellers at the UFO club spent many an hour going around in circles but for a different reason.  Anyway on with the story.  I had collected the gang in my beautiful Riley 4/68 - possibly my most memorable vehicle - and proceeded north to Central London.  Unfortunately I had just had an engine rebuild and ,all of a sudden, we lost most of the water in a cloud of steam.  Luckily we were literally outside of a Shell garage and we limped on to the forecourt.  We asked the mechanics at the garage what could we do but frankly they weren’t very helpful.  I was dressed in my  finest Psychedelic gear but nonetheless I Proceeded to investigate the problem.  To seal the water jacket they used some small circular convex plates which they bashed into the engine.  One of these had popped out, but luckily was still there.  But, it was right at the back of the engine near the bulkhead.  So how to get it back in without going back to the engine shop, and still visit the UFO?  I had a flash, I bashed a hole in the floorboards right near the clutch and lined up a drift with the centre of the disc placed strategically in the hole from wence it came and gave it a few prized belts.  It took quite a few minutes before I was satisfied it was lodged home but it seemed to be ok.  I borrowed some swarfega, cleaned myself up and proceeded to the UFO club.  We got there about midnight but it didn’t really kick off until that time anyway.  it wasn’t a Pink Floyd night but we saw them a number of times after that anyway.  it was a great experience.  The crowd were all virtually hippies and most of them were 8 miles high.  The evening also included a “happening”  which was basically a huge fabric snake into which the revellers climbed and danced around the room - all 60 feet of it.  We never went back but in those days you visited as many venues as you could manage.  It was a great evening if only a little bizarre.  The metal slug held up for about two months and eventually popped out again but I took it back to the engine shop and had a new one fitted.  The car took me through a number of years and eventful holidays until a Danish Drunk  bent it out of shape in Munich - it still lasted a year more but it was a bit sad looking at the end.  That remind me of another story.

 Before closing completely and talking about UFO’s,  it has also reminded me of the nights in Wingham when Paul and I , independently, saw a number of UFO”s.  We were and are convinced they were real and I actually saw another bunch years later.  Perhaps they were looking for the UFO club as well?

Sandy, my Uncle,  was sent to Canada during the war for pilot training around Lake Huron.  After the war we were going to emigrate to Australia but the wait was too long for my Dad, who was as impatient as I am, so he got Sandy to sponsor us to go to Canada and we lived with him around Lucknow for a while before moving to Wingham.  Sandy eventually moved to Stratford with his wife Yvonne, and their ever increaasing brood.  Sandy was a bit of a car freak and very gifted with it.  He was even a motorcycle cop for a while at Stratford.  One of his forte’s was rebuilding cars and he set about this marathon journey with this 1899 Leroy.  The name actually comes from the French Le Roi engine that was imported at the time.  The Leroy was the first car built in Canada and was built at Kitchener where it now resides in the museum.  Sandy and Yvonne spent a tremendous amount of time and expertise rebuilding the car from the rusting heap salvaged from a barn near Stratford.  After rebuilding he took us kids on many trips around the streets of Stratford.  He tried to sell it at the time to a Canadian museum but nobody would stump up the cash so it went to the Dearborn museum.  We were very proud of Sandy - It was a great achievement.

ambition

1. strong desire for success, achievement, or distinction

2. something so desired; goal; aim

[C14: from Old French, from Latin ambitiō a going round (of candidates), a striving to please, from ambīre to go round; see ambit]

Congratulations to Bob - 4000 hits - I never thought he would make it.  I was confident of his 3000 hits but 4000 seemed unattainable.  Bob truly has ambition and the drive to succeed  I always thought I had ambition and I believe I did,  but I was over ambitious and wanted to rule the world.  In the end I couldn’t even rule my back garden.

Check out  the following notable quotes.

“Oh, it's delightful to have ambitions. I'm so glad I have such a lot. And there never seems to be any end to them-- that's the best of it. Just as soon as you attain to one ambition you see another one glittering higher up still. It does make life so interesting.” 

― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

All people dream, but not equally.

Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind, wake in the

morning to find that it was vanity. But the dreamers of the day are dangerous

people, For they dream their dreams with open eyes, And make them come

true.” 

― D.H. Lawrence

I think I benefited from being equal parts ambitious and curious. And of the two, curiosity has served me best.” 

― Michael J. Fox

Happiness never made anyone rich or famous. That must be why ambitious people avoid it.” 

― Marty Rubin

ps I was the 4000th visitor yesterday as shown by the counter

I just missed the 3000 myself - I was 3002 this morning

I had intended to write a piece about success but I never really got started.  Then I ran out of stories for Wingham so i thought again.  I am not a success, in fact i am a failure.  Not a failure in life but certainly a failure in business.  I would say in my defence that the recession and the shenanigans of the bank wiped me out and that would be largely true, but at the end of the day, if you haven’t got success you haven’t got much money.

I think the Wingham Reunion Site is a resounding success and Bob should be congratulated by all.  Please give him a big congratulation from me.  There was never any doubt that I would  not attend, neither health nor finances would run to it.  I now have a big dilemma about my teeth.  I have not looked after my teeth over the years and in fact went about 20 years without seeing a dentist.  I had a lot of pain and I lost quite a few teeth but I always managed to take the teeth out myself and ride over the pain.  I have only 12 teeth left.  I probably should be grateful for that but I am not.  One of my key front teeth just decided to vacate my mouth so I got the dentist to make me a set of dentures.  It was agony and very uncomfortable.  However, I did get them FREE on the NHS but  they were dreadful.  Frankly, even if I agonised for days even weeks I couldn’t wear them.  I asked about a partial denture - that is all I really wanted but the Dentist said it wouldn’t work but eventually relented and said only a newer type of denture would work but they are not on the NHS.  How much -  £300 - not a lot in the grand scheme of things but still too much and it still is only second best.  So I looked on the net to see the options.  I found a ceramic bridge - looks great- surely that would be the answer.  No, said the dentist,  my teeth are too wobbly and I have lost some bone.  The only other course was an implant.  I already knew about implants and the enormous costs so I looked again on the net.  I found the advert, again for Budapest.  Dentistry is much, much cheaper in East Europe.  In fact I could get my implant for not much more than the cost of a rubber partial denture.  Perhaps even get the implant and a bridge at the same time - or at least the implant for the bridge to be anchored on.  Decisions , Decisions.  Still I don’t have time at the moment I am off to the ED clinic.   But that is another story.  (I hope the diahorrea holds off today.)

Enjoy yourselves at the reunion!

ps  I have just been told that I have cataracts in both eyes which will need operating.  They have now booked me in for July for the first eye.  My Mum had the same and she had a horrendous time.  I am dreading it.

pps I have just finished writing my Wingham book.  It was originally going to be about growing up in Wingham and what went afterwards but I decided to keep the original chapters and then add all my stories that I have written for the Reunion site together with much expanded images to replace the montages.  Everything is now up to date and everyone is welcome to a pdf copy of the book.  I tend to write all my books on a Mac and in the iBooks format which can contain a lot of extra widgets that can only play on a mac but the pdf contains all the pictures and text and only misses the videos.  I have sent a pdf copy of the book to Bob and he will either give you a link or perhaps even a copy.  Any problems let me know direct and I have also made available a few of my other books that had just been published.

login details to download

please note the pdf book is a straightforward read on your browser and download after

the ibooks file is much bigger and will only work on Mac OSX Mavericks 10-9  but it also depends on the computer.  Fine on a modern iMac but very iffy on an older Macbook - any problems give me feedback and I will arrange a solution

http://www.kidsgrovewritersgroup.com/brstore/Winghamcomposite.pdf

http://www.kidsgrovewritersgroup.com/brstore/Winghamcomposite.ibooks

I don’t know why, but we used to go stock car racing in the later years in Wingham.  I think it was Sandy who first introduced us but I also went with Mum and Dad on some occasions.  I looked up the history and there was quite a bit in Ontario, much of it was on dirt tracks shared with horse racing.  My impression with all the advertising hoardings on the track was that it was a dedicated track but I couldn’t actually find one that was there in 1956., however after further research I  believe it was the Bridgeport Speedway which, I believe has been recently resurrected.  Anyway we enjoyed watching all the old bangers getting wrecked and particularly enjoyed 99 d .n 100  The name seemed to be a bit racy (if you will forgive the pun) at that time.  The announcer always used to announce 99 d.n. 100  ninety nine damn near one hundred.  To me as a young lad the word Damn seemed a bit inappropriate for mixed company but it also reminded me of Grade 3 in Wingham.  I recall it was either Walt Mckibbon or Laurie Stucky - I am sure it was one of those - who chose a rather nice poem but it included the word Damn.  When he read this out in front of the class everyone gasped that he was so bold as to actually speak that word out loud.  The teacher  took it marvellously in her stride and just carried on with the racing, (sorry slip of the pen I meant reading).  We sniggered but that was the end of the shock.  Today you wished people would only use the damn word instead of all the ‘fling and blinding’ that is in everyday conversation.

It wasn’t such a wicked world in the 50’s after all.

Brian Rider

“Twas the night before Xmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring except for the bloody Xmas dinner”

I recall the Christmas of I believe 1954,  We used to reciprocate the Xmas visits and this time was Uncle Sandy’s turn.  We rolled up on Xmas eve and it was just beginning to snow but this time, we did not get stuck in the snow.

We settled down in Sandy’s living room to watch TV but he took us into the kitchen to meet the Xmas dinner.  He had been out shooting and apparently shot this bird down ( I called it a turkey for dramatic effect but I think it was probably a Canada goose)  The Bird was goggling in the corner, as Turkeys do, and we were somewhat surprised that it was not stuffed and oven ready.  .  Neither Sandy nor Yvonne had the heart to wring its neck and cut it up for dinner.  I found that a little hard to believe as Sandy was usually a bit of a bloodthirsty hunter but there it was, a happy bird gobbling up our Xmas comestibles.  We asked Sandy what his intentions were but he sort of shrugged his shoulders.  It was too late to do much on Xmas eve.  So the happy bird sat their goggling on night and generally enjoying itself and stayed to watch us eating our fish and chips for Xmas dinner.  (I am only kidding I think it was sausages and chips with a host of vegetable.

The bird was certainly impressed.  I don’t think  we and the kids were quite so impressed with Xmas dinner but it was a cute bird.

After Xmas it went to a farmer to enjoy another year before getting stuffed.

Happy ending really

Merry Xmas to all you Turkeys

As was the habit of the times we used to spend a lot of our holidays on the lake.   We used to go with Uncle Sandy and his mob and had a great time.  It wasn’t far but it was very cheap and very enjoyable.  Paul used to go a lbit further up on the lake - Bruce beach just south of Kincardine , and as befitted their station in life they used to have a really big Chalet.  Indeed it was as big as many houses in Wingham and very sumptuously fitted out.  (Paul protests that it wasn’t that big and was in fact a small cottage, and their station  in life was more like East Croydon not Marylebone.  He also reinforces this argument by saying they drove  Ford Anglia but I distinctly remember they had a Humber Super Snipe - somewhat grander - indeed , when we got there that year he had been bitten by the Super Snipe while cleaning it)  Paul’s Dad was the church organist at the United Church so there was little opportunity for our Mums and Dads to get together.  They decided one year that it was about time we all got together so they invited us up to their Holiday Home.    We duly arrived and proceeded to get acquainted.  Although Paul and I had known each other for around 4 years this was the first time we had all got together. They had arranged a full scale meal for us - the house was fully equipped.  They were enjoying the holiday except for the beach bums causing a nuisance.  We had the same problem at Scout Camp that year and had to chase away a whole bunch of beach bums at Camp Huron.  Anyway the evening progressed and the talk came around to origins and family.  Mrs Bennett had come from Scotland when she was 2 years old - sometime during the 20”s.  Once the talk started on travelling, Dad popped up with his tales of travel..  In his early 20’s  he had left England to go to New Zealand and Australia and used to relate many stories about the outback and how he used to lie in a cabin looking after  the sheep shooting rats off the ceiling.  He also apparently learned to fly in the outback, although he never got a licence - the boss said there is no one here, you will never be asked to show a licence.  One of the mysteries of his trip in 1930 was the ship.  We thought he had travelled economy on a tramp steamer.  In fact he went on a pucker liner - the Rangitata - in some luxury?  This was also virtually a round the world sailing via the Panama Canal.  Most of the time, however, was spent in New Zealand and in particularly ,Auckland.  Dad had actually got a job as a Fireman in a suburb of Auckland - we still have his driving licence showing just that.  He also befriended a group of Kiwis some of whom were named  Cowan.  We have a number of old photos showing his friends but no specific details.   He was midway through relating his experiences when all of a sudden Mrs B piped up “my maiden name is Cowan” and some of my family emigrated to NZ some years ago”.  It turned out that in fact the lady my Dad was staying with in Auckland was her cousin who had left Scotland just after the Great War.  So they hadn’t been there that many years when my Dad rolled up.  We couldn’t believe the co-incidence and it fuelled the conversation for many hours.  I wonder what the odds of that would be.    2 people totally unrelated sharing family and friends with their own kid’s best friend having travelled something like 30,000 or more miles to appreciate the relationship.  Amazing!  Paul returned to Auckland many years later on a quest to see old friends and look up some Cowan’s.  He relates that this was not an easy task as there were at least some 60 Cowan’s in the Auckland telephone directory.  A bit of a daunting task for just a few days.  He didn’t find any long lost relatives

The Image Montage shows:-  top right a night scene of Auckland = quite a big city and the inset of the Auckland driving licence.  Top left Auckland skyline and their TV tower.  Next down a typical Huron cottage but the lower one is much more like Paul’s chalet.  Bottom, images of Huron Beach and to the right the Humber Super snipe - a lovely old car.

Wingham Public School Sports Day

When we first arrived in Wingham our first house was right behind the School.  In fact the main fence for the school was to the right of the house.  As the playing field was at two levels the upper level was at the same height as the house so I could go to school by crawling under the fence.  I remember we used to play Canadian football on the upper level.  As I was one of the largest in the class I always had an easy time at the game but without any real expertise.  I could just power my way through the field.  We stayed at this house up until 4th or 5th grade I believe.   It also puts me in mind of a sports day probably around Grade 7.  I always do well at the long jump and the triple jump and this year I did quite well at the high jump although again I had no real technique.  On this occasion John Merkely was neck and neck with me right up to the end game -  the 100 yard dash.  For some reason I believe we ran from the upper level with the finish at the lower level.   I think we ran a dead heat for 2 or 3 races so they couldn’t call a winner.   Then,on the last race I just ran out of steam so John took the title.  Well done.  Also in the picture is a small inset of a Moose.  Paul’s nickname at the school was “Moose’  In this case he was a Happy Moose.  Probably just told a joke.

Brian Rider

After my piece about Fred Lennon I thought you might like to see the lyrics of Brother John's best ever tune - 'Imagine"

Enjoy

Imagine there's no heaven

It's easy if you try

No hell below us

Above us only sky

Imagine all the people

Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries

It isn't hard to do

Nothing to kill or die for

And no religion too

Imagine all the people

Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us

And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions

I wonder if you can

No need for greed or hunger

A brotherhood of man

Imagine all the people

Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us  (at the reunion)

And the world will live as one