No 34 - December 1937 - Southgate County School

Southgate County School Magazine 47
LUGANO, 1937.
The holiday started for most of us just as the train was
running- into Dover Station. There was a question that everybody
had been thinking about—not openly perhaps but which
worried most of us. You could see this by the tense expressions
on the faces of the whist and domino players.- They gave furtive
glances out of the window every now and again and at last were
rewarded by quick glimpses between the tunnels in the white
cliffs at Dover of the Channel under a sullen grey sky—very
unattractive but fortunately calm. We were soon on the packed
" Prince Charles," a Belgian boat, for. Ostend. The journey was
very much a case of '' what did we see ? we saw the sea! ''
There were several who tenaciously clung to the rail with a far
away look in their eyes but fortunately only two casualties. A
budding amateur artist provided a little light relief for a short
time while we decided whom she was sketching, but apart from
that it was 3ij? hours waiting for the French coast to appear.
Ostend welcomed us with sunshine and a whack-up dinner, after
which we made our way to the Basle train to find "quarante trois
places." On seeing them, however, there was a rush to the'
pillow wagon to try out our new money on the attendant. A
comparison with the thick well-sprung Southern Railway stock
certainly gave the prize hands-down to the British. Nevertheless,
once under ,way, one soon got used to it.
The first part of the journey across N. Belgium to Brussels
was soon over and as it grew dark the noise of the engine grew
more distinct as we climbed into the Ardennes. When we stopped
periodically in Belgium, many found that the one French word
most needed was not forthcoming. Some language expert suggested
citronade and found the result surprising. After this
difficulty had been solved everybody felt more like settling in and
few were awake when we crossed the French border at Thionville
at 0.45 a.m.
The next day began at Basle in the very early morning,
5.40 a.m. to be exact, where very thankfully we said good-bye
to our Belgian carriage and adjourned for breakfast—piping
hot coffee, new rolls and two sorts of cherry jam. After breakfast
there was some time to spare before our train left for Lucerne and
the hunt for Swiss stamps began in order to let our loving parents
know how we were progressing. With this off our minds the
journey to Lucerne could be enjoyed with a clear conscience.
This section was very wonderful but was only a foretaste of
what was to come—the Jungfrau and the Monch in all their
glory. Lucerne is a typical Swiss town, with clean, wide streets,
and naturally its fountain. We were soon away, however, on
board the " Gallia " bound for Fluelen—travelling down Lake
Lucerne, calling at many small villages on the way. The scene
on the Lake was almost indescribable, high peaks only faintly
visible through the morning haze (it was not yet 9 o'clock) the