How I Saw Hitler on My Summer Vacation Read online

  Booklet of railway tickets (light blue)

  CHAPTER THREE

  Holland and Belgium

  Tiptoe Through the Tulip Bulbs

  Date: August 18, 1938

  Place: Overnight crossing to The Hague

  Weather: Chilly but fair.

  Thank goodness, it was not necessary for us to change trains during our 11-hour ride to Chadwick, although we did grow weary of sitting. After boarding the boat to The Hague, we realized that it was fun riding on a steamer ship again. The throbbing of the engines is a pleasant sensation. The staterooms are tiny and the boat is rather crowded. We purchased some Dutch money, and now have the opportunity to adapt to a new currency. Here’s for a smooth overnight crossing!

  Date: August 19, 1938

  Place: Holland — all over

  Weather: Grand — but dreadfully windy.

  We were up at 5 a.m., and ready to land shortly before 6 a.m. They say it was a rough crossing but I will have to confess to remembering little about it except being nicely rocked to sleep. Upon landing, we were graciously greeted by a tour representative.

  The Dutch customs officials did not open even one of our bags. We found the bus that was going to The Hague. The driver let us off in front of our hotel, The Terminus, which is across from the railway station. It is a lovely hotel — so spacious, open, and very modern. Our neat and clean bedroom is immense! A little pincushion on the dresser provides us with sewing needles, which contain black and white thread. After breakfast, we joined several others for a Grand Motor Tour of Holland, and it was indeed grand! Holland’s tulip bulbs can now be exported, so I purchased a couple of boxes. The Dutch houses are so quaint, with the doors and windows being bright and shiny. We saw for the first time, the little mirrors (on the sides of buildings) called “busy bodies” that enable the housewives to keep track of everything that is going on up and down the street. One cannot visit this area without seeing the cheese market! It certainly is an interesting spectacle, with the colorful native costumes, crowds of people, and piles of fragrant cheese. We passed by the dikes holding back the Zuiderzee — a shallow bay of the North Sea. Recently they have succeeded in cutting the Zuiderzee off from the ocean completely. A boat took us to the Isle of Markem, where the people are even more distinct in their costumes and customs. One gets the feeling though, that these activities are chiefly for the benefit of the tourists.

  The trip homeward took us through Amsterdam, with its 37 canals and the Jewish Ghetto. Automobiles are uncommon in Holland. While waiting for a stop light to change, it was strange to see only a large group of bicycles. The Dutch staff at our hotel kept things so clean and neat. If we left something out of place in our room, when we returned it would be straightened up. In Amsterdam, we visited a diamond-cutting factory. I regret that I did not buy a diamond, if only a very tiny one. We enjoyed dinner at a little place where they spoke no English and was it fun! Using a combination of German, French and sign language, we managed to get something to eat. We fall into our beds now, entirely too late.

  Date: August 20, 1938

  Place: The Hague and Brussels, Belgium

  Weather: Fine in morning, rain in p.m.

  After breakfast, we joined a tour group for our train ride to Brussels. I was quite surprised at the size of Brussels. They say it has a million inhabitants. I certainly have a good opportunity to make use of my French, as they speak little else. Wanting to make the most of this afternoon in Brussels, we visited the majestic cathedrals, bustling market squares, and government buildings. We viewed many remnants of the German occupation of Brussels during the World War, and saw the place where Edith Cavell, a British nurse, was executed. She was charged with helping allied prisoners to escape.

  Date: August 21, 1938

  Place: Brussels then on to Paris

  Weather: Beautiful!

  Since today was Sunday, we were serenaded by the ringing of church bells. Our tour car ascended to the highest elevation in Brussels, which overlooks the old part of the city. The Palace of Justice here, is the largest building in the world and took over 21 years to construct. After stopping to purchase some Belgian lace handkerchiefs, we drove by the Royal Conservatory of Music and the famous Mannekin Pis statue and fountain. At a sidewalk café, we laughed until our sides hurt, as I struggled to order our lunch in French, without being given a menu! Soon after lunch, we headed for the train station and we were off to Paris!

  CHAPTER FOUR

  France

  Paris Shopping, Nightclubs and Normandy’s Shores

  Date: August 22, 1938

  Place: Paris — tra la, tra la

  Weather: Changeable — raining tonight.

  Tomorrow we will embark on a 3-day tour through Normandy, so the weather just has to be nice!

  The Hotel Racine is on the left bank of the Seine in the Latin Quarter, right in the midst of the real French people. Our second floor room is enormous, with windows overlooking the street. People walk by or drive along, accompanied by the pleasant sound of tinkling bells which are the French equivalent of our blaring automobile horns.

  Picture Below: French Touring Car of the 1930s

  After a delicious lunch at the Voltaire Restaurant, we embarked on a tour of historical Paris, including the Arc de Triomphe commissioned by Napoleon in 1806. We drove by the huge Central Markets which are so vast that they overflow into the surrounding streets. One has to see the Ile de la Cite, a natural island in the Seine. The island is home to many interesting buildings, particularly the Cathedral of Notre Dame. The rose windows of this cathedral date back to the 1200s and are especially beautiful. We passed by the Louvre so often that it began to assume an old-friend air! We also viewed the Pantheon, burial place of famous statesmen and writers. After the tour, we found the cutest little beauty salon and had our hair washed and waved. We spent many pleasant hours, sitting in the Tuileries Gardens (the oldest park in the Paris) and the Luxembourg Gardens.

  Tuileries Gardens with the Louvre

  Margy and I rode out to Montmartre and exited the bus at Place Blanche. To glimpse an overview of the area, we started wending our way up to the summit of the hill. We climbed street after street and step upon step, finally arriving at the Sacre Coeur Cathedral. Sacre Coeur is a comparatively new, all-white structure, which seems strikingly beautiful while soaring above its rather dirty surroundings. After taking in the views from that high spot, we descended to what is called the Bohemian section of Paris — Montmartre. We wandered for blocks amidst very narrow streets, which were thronged with people. The only reason that we didn’t get lost, was our ability to see the Sacre Coeur Cathedral always towering above.

  We were irresistibly drawn into a quaint little shop that offered etchings, watercolors, and prints. I made several purchases there, but wish I could have bought one of everything! While Margy completed her purchases, I became fascinated with a lively scene going on across the street. The setting was an open-air café with people sitting around small tables, sipping wine. They were intently watching some performers who appeared to just step in from the street to add their bit to the show. The songs and dances were most unusual, to say the least! The audience was not shy about letting their opinions be known. At the conclusion of each act, the performers were either rewarded with cheering and applause or they were met with the French equivalent of a loud “Boo!” We could have watched this scene for hours!

  This was a part of Paris unlike any we had seen. The crowds were rough in appearance but seemed to be well behaved. Everywhere we went, the streets were teeming with sailors from the USS Nashville, wearing their crisp white hats. At a restaurant called No 7. Odeau Place, we found the steak and French fries to be cooked to the exact moment of perfection.

  Date: August 23, 1938

  Place: Paris and Normandy

  Weather: Changing every half-hour.

  Our guide, Geoffe, called for us this morning in a smooth-riding Renault car. We sat with three other American women in the tour party
who were quite arrogant and rude! I thought there was going to be a battle royal between them and us. Margy and I were so embarrassed by their actions and words that we felt like apologizing for them, to Geoffe! I now understand where foreigners sometimes get their unpleasant ideas of American tourists.

  We rode by Versailles, catching enough of a glimpse to satisfy us until we return for a more leisurely visit. Our car cruised along through many large and small French towns. Lunch was enjoyed at the town of Alencon, a place known for its famous lace. I finally chose one handkerchief with one square inch of lace on it — it was just that expensive! We drove straight on to Mont St. Michel in order to arrive an hour before it closed at 6 p.m. The rain very kindly ceased and our first glimpse of the Mont appeared against pale gray skies in the distance. The structure presents a stunning, unforgettable vision that resembles a castle out of a fairytale book — the sort of a place where a beautiful princess would be imprisoned.

  We have a grand view with fresh sea breezes from the window in our fourth-floor room at the Hotel Poulard. What can be more relaxing than listening to the ocean? With so much to explore outside, it is difficult to stay in the room long enough to enjoy it. Shortly after our arrival, we left with a guide who positioned us so we could follow a French-speaking touring party. Our guide then spoke to us in English. It is impossible to describe the Mont fully! From the spire with the 8-foot tall figure of St. Michael, (450 feet above sea level) to the arched refectory, to the cloister with its dainty sandstone pillars, it is truly awe-inspiring. At one time, the Abbey was converted into a prison, but in 1863 the prison was closed. We visited the prison chambers, and touched the legendary chain. The legend goes, “She who touches the chain will be married within a year.” All men beware!

  Back at the Poulard Hotel, we watched a chef create the famous Mere Poulard omelettes and enjoyed a delicious meal, including omelettes and the famous salt grass fed lamb. The soufflé-like egg delights are oversized and quite fluffy. After dinner, we strolled the streets and made a few purchases. Our next stop is Normandy.

  Date: August 24, 1938

  Place: Normandy France (Trouville)

  Weather: Absolutely perfect.

  What a lovely place to awaken in the morning! After breakfast, we drove through Avranches and right on to Bayuex, where we saw the famous tapestry in the library. Our guide explained the known history of the tapestry. It tells the story of William the Conqueror, and the invasion of England in 1066. It was thrilling to discover that I was able to read the entire story from the Latin that was woven or embroidered right into the tapestry. Of course, we all purchased printed copies of the tapestry so we can enjoy seeing it again and again. The car stopped for lunch at a hotel in Caen, where we recognized a French movie and stage actress who was seated two tables away. Her name is Madeleine Renaud. Miss Renaud graciously consented when Margy asked for her autograph.

  We arrived at Deauville-Trouville about 4 p.m. Our guide said that Deauville is frequented by rich sugar daddies and their gold-diggers. We have been intently looking around to see some of them, but they have not crossed our paths. In spite of the crowds of visitors here, we managed to secure lovely rooms at the Langer hotel. As in Mont St Michel, one hates to be so plebian as to go to sleep. The area around our hotel reminds me of Atlantic City. We sauntered along the boardwalk this afternoon, and then dove into large bowls of ice cream. Reclining under a boardwalk umbrella, we listened to divine gypsy music and gazed at people passing by. Dinner was followed by a visit to the casino, where we viewed gamblers play a roulette style game called La Boule. My one brave little gambling fling was unsuccessful, and I have no great desire to try again.

  Photo Below: Helen and Margy, at the beach in Deauville

  Date: August 25, 1938

  Place: Normandy and back to Paris

  Weather: Very good.

  It is difficult to plan our next Paris sightseeing tours, while shivering! The temperature must dip down to 50 degrees here in the evening, and there is no heat in our room. We had a lovely breakfast at the Hotel Langer, sitting in the terrace garden overlooking the sea. The food was delicious enough, but OH, how we enjoyed the apricot jam! Knowledge of the French language is essential in Normandy, especially when the guide is not with us. We drove to the Vieux Marche, to see the place where 19-year-old Jeanne d’Arc (Joan of Arc) was burned at the stake. Nearby is the spot where the tribunal sat in judgment, and a fine statue of Jeanne d’Arc. Dinner in Paris at the Voltaire Café, and a walk on Rue St Michel, finished the day.

  Date: August 26, 1930

  Place: Paris

  Weather: Fine.

  It is so grand to wake up in Paris, again! Poor Mr. Raffite is worried that we won’t be going to an Apache nightclub. He has even offered to take us himself, the old darling. We will have to tell him when we decide to go, because they lock the hotel at midnight. If one plans to come back after midnight, he has to ask for a key to take with him. This morning we took the other part of our Paris tour, that of modern Paris, so-called. The crowded tour bus stopped at the Expiatory Chapel, which has been constructed over the burial place of victims of the guillotine — rich and poor — Marie Antoinette and Robespierre together.

  Our drive down the Champs Elysees ended at the Triumphal Arch and the tomb of the Unknown Soldier, over which burns the eternal flame. The tomb was covered with lovely flowers, this morning. We noticed that there is a wonderful view from this Arch, across the Champs Elysees, past the Place Du le Concorde, to the Louvre. Our next stop was the tomb of Napoleon, which is surrounded by the only remaining old flags of that period. The list of the battles that he fought and won is inscribed on the floor. Also at this site, are the tombs of several of Napoleon’s Generals. On a street named Rue de la Paix, we eagerly descended upon a Transatco store, and sniffed so much perfume that we could taste it for hours! The prices were so reasonable that we purchased several bottles. Now — to get it home safely.

  Date: August 27, 1938

  Place: Paris

  Weather: Fine.

  Today was a full day of shopping for souvenirs, theatre tickets, and excursions. After that, we secured some excellent seats for the opera, “Salome.” At the large department store, “Au Printemps,” we again reverted to shopping. Eventually tearing ourselves away, we took a taxi to the travel agency to arrange for trips to Versailles and Chartres. Tickets for the night-tour of Paris were clutched in our hands and we could hardly wait!

  After dinner, we went on that night tour of Paris, visiting clubs and cabarets. I sat on the bus with an English fellow, who was the perfect image of a young Duke of Windsor. His family, seated in front of us, kept peering around to make sure that their son was behaving! At a strange little Turkish club, we sipped dark Turkish coffee and listened to bizarre, fast-paced music. A beautiful belly dancer snaked her way between the tables, stopping at ours for several minutes. Before we left, I purchased an ornate ring that was made in Algiers. How often does one have the opportunity to buy jewelry that contains a secret little poison compartment? Our next stop was a nightclub in a very rough Apache area of the city. This establishment used weird lighting and sound effects, in an effort to simulate a thunderstorm. The effect was like the Fourth of July and Christmas, all rolled together. We were served tall glasses of mint lemonade, which was surprisingly delicious!

  The next club was called “Le Neant” — a ghastly place! We sat there and drank nasty beer, while being surrounded by skulls and skeletons! It is hard to say which was more unsettling — the performances, or the pictures on the walls. I think that “Le Neant” means nothingness. I wanted desperately to get out of that place. Finally, the tour proceeded to “Le Bal Tabarin,” one of the ritziest nightclubs in Paris. The floorshow was over an hour long, and consisted of a wide variety of skits, daring acrobatics, and dances. Can Can dancers in colorful ruffled gowns, did their high kicks, adding cartwheels and splits. Beautiful girls rode a fancy carousel, which slowly ascended from beneath the stage floor. Othe
r dancers descended from the ceiling! We drank champagne, and watched women cavort around, wearing nothing but their imaginations. Thoroughly exhausted, we tumbled into bed at 4 a.m.

  Date: August 28, 1938

  Place: Paris

  Weather: Very nice!

  After lunch in the Latin Quarter, Margy and I strolled down by the Seine, and stopped several times to investigate the wares of the many bouquinistes (booksellers.) Our destination was the Louvre. Once inside, it was thrilling to lay our eyes on such a great number of famous paintings, such as the Mona Lisa, and others by Titian, Botticelli, and Van Dyke. We sought out the “Winged Victory” and “The Gleaners.” I made a note to return another day, especially to see the “Venus de Milo.” We relaxed in the splendor of the elaborate Tuileries Gardens and then hunted up the “Restaurant les Ministeres” where we enjoyed an inexpensive but delicious dinner. We are having such fun trying out the little restaurants in France, with occasional visits to the large ones. The eternal struggle with the language sometimes produces peculiar things to eat, but we do not mind one little bit. Overall, the food is delicious — much better than that we had in England.

  Date: August 29, 1938

  Place: Paris

  Weather: Still fine.

  This was our morning for the Flea Market. At the Porte de Clignancourt, the stalls were lined up, row upon row. This open-air market suffered decidedly in contrast to the Caledonian market in London. It is sometimes referred to as the “rag market” and to us it seemed like nothing more than piles of junk. I have to admit that we do lack the connoisseur’s art of recognizing valuable knick-knacks. Margy bought a darling blue and gold Limoges cup and saucer.