(Incomplete)
For two summers Colin Wills and I hitch-hiked around Europe, the first one to the Adriatic Coast via Germany and Austria, and the second down through Italy to Greece from Brindisi and back through Yugoslavia, Venice, Switzerland, Luxembourg and home. The years were 1961 and 1962 when we were entering the Upper Sixth and after A levels at the CNS in Norwich. We both stayed for a third year at the CNS before Cambridge, Colin to do Science and me to do Economics
Colin had a good cultural nose musically and artistically and we used guides to find art galleries, other sites, the normal tourist stuff and the history of the area. Usually we visited free, low price or student price places weighing what we could afford. We hitched, or walked, with a rucksack, medium size, using Youth Hostels for accommodation. Youth Hostels in Europe had a good reputation. You got an international Youth Hostel Card, and they were great places to stay. Our Mums had made cotton sleeping bags which we slept in and there were clothes, washing stuff, maps, passport, water holder, cup, plate and cutlery. Money was in a belt Mum made, safe away and really we travelled quite light.
The trips lasted five and then six weeks. I think I/we took about £35 for the first one and a bit more for the second one. We rationed ourselves effectively and did not have any financial crises. On the second trip we booked a train to Köln and a night in the hostel to get underway fast and travel further south.
The politics of Europe was quite settled before the Berlin Wall. Kennedy was President and Macmillan Prime Minister. There was some gratitude for Britain’s role in WW2 and so hitching with a union jack was supposed to be easier, except in France which had the reputation of being slow for hitch-hikers, so we went SE rather than into France and Spain.
We got on well together, discussed what to do and decided, always had a lot to think about and absorb, the hitch-hiking was reasonably successful and easy and they were both good, heathy, relaxing holidays where we learned a lot. We had some French and German from School and muddled through in language terms, partly relying, sadly, on those who spoke English and trying to pick up the basics in Italy and elsewhere.
THE FIRST TRIP.
We set out from Lowther Road, waving goodbye to Mum and Dad, walked down to the Ipswich Road and hitched to Harwich. Our parents let us go and did not dump their worry on us. We went towards Germany. I’d already hitch-hiked in the Netherlands earlier and we were aiming to get down into Germany. We’d had a school trip to Goslar earlier, and so it was not completely new. One constraint was that you could not hitch on autobahns, and so other routes might be less direct.
We headed for the Rhein, and really missed a lot travelling through with glimpses of Heidelberg and its university up on the hill, and the first place we really stopped was Stuttgart. We were learning the process. The YH was good. We went to the old and new gallery. In the old one I remember the Durer looking at you and in the new one seeing the early 20th century German ones for the first time. I remember Kurt Schwitters for some reason. Stuttgart looked modern, newly built and a different style to back home. I’m not sure whether we worked out that it was because we had bombed it. From Stuttgart we went on the Ulm and for some reason were committed to climbing the Cathedral Tower to get a magnificent view of the place and we were at home in Germany, but moving fast. Colin on the whole took the lead and was keen on Salzburg and Vienna probably for musical reasons. We hitched along the main Augsburg, Munich road, round Munich, aware of what we were missing, and on towards Salzburg. I think we stopped off at Rosenheim, with the final walk to the Youth Hostel. The YHs were friendly, clean, you could always get information, knowledge, link up with folks. It was a great system of international friendship and we enjoyed it from the start.
The move over the border into Austria to Salzburg was easy and we booked in the YH for two nights with a day’s sightseeing. Colin did obeisance at Mozart’s birthplace, but I don’t think we could afford to go in and we wandered around the old city soaking it in. It was where we began to get a feeling of travelling back in time as well as down through Europe. Was this eighteenth century or what? Working out what cities were then. Then we moved on again to Vienna, aware we were approaching something big. Through Linz, aware we were picking up the Danube. Vienna you could get a grasp of through the ring and where everything was in relation to it. We looked at trams, coffee houses, the great imperial housing, information on Viennese figures. We had time. I think three days sightseeing and now knew what we must see. The Domkirche, total medieval Gothic vertical praise. We had to go to the Albertina, Belvedere, where I think we just walked up to and looked through the doors and windows. Lots of places you could get in free or reduced with a YH Card, but not there. Colin focussed on Mozart and Beethoven while I majored on Durer, especially the glory of God small clump, Rembrandt, the Blauer Reiter and others beginning to emerge. We got a feel for the Austrian Empire, saw Freud and other figures and home and a lot of important people in stone riding horses. One evening we decided that we should go out to the Ferris Wheel in the Harry Lime movie over by the Canal. It was a slog to get there and back before closing time at the YH and when we got there it was just a big wheel across the Canal largely in the dark.
Our diet, established quite early was YH breakfast, a litre of milk each and a fried egg on bread which a lot of places did. Then we shared a loaf of bread and bag of fruit during the day with sometimes something else in the evening. It has basic, but healthy. No restaurants.
The plan was Vienna and Venice, but we were not sure about the rest. From Vienna we travelled south, knowing that hitching was more or less impossible in Tito’s Yugoslavia and we would have to catch a train. So, we hitched slowly to the border and eventually walked over it into Yugoslavia. I’ve tried to establish on a map where it was, but know there was a lot of wondering about what route would work. We walked across the border and eventually found a railway terminus where we could get a train. It was hot, midday. We were probably a Graz for a night. The railway terminus was a dead end ending in a complex network of sidings and some of Tito’s soldiers were there with less than nothing to do and they had this elaborate game where they were shunting trucks, moving points at the last minute, and changing places. It felt like the most relaxed place on the planet. Eventually we got a train, I think, straight down to Rijeka on the Adriatic. This was to be holiday and the turn around. We knew we could not go further on time and budget. On the train we were both dozing and tired and at one of the stations I vaguely saw a guy passing with rucksack and a union jack on it. I said to Colin, “Hey he’s English.” to which Colin’s response was, “Hey that’s my rucksack.” At the next station the police were on the train and the miscreant disappeared. At Rijeka we had a short kind of Adriatic holiday. The highlight of luxury was being at the sea’s edge where a cold freshwater spring bubbled up into the sea where we put a bunch of grapes we had bought, so that we had chilled grapes while sunbathing and swimming.
Then we largely hitch-hiked round through Trieste to Venice. The Youth Hostel was on the island, looking across to San Marco. We used the vaporettos and gondolas were out of the question. We did the churches and were beginning to know what we wanted to see. We walked and vaporettoed everywhere. I think we tried to go to the Bienniale but it was too expensive, but we went to the Accademia, got a good dose of Canaletto and others and were exposed for the first time, outside the National Gallery to Italian art. Of course Venice feels 15th and 16th century, and so it was another layer of history. Of course, Venice is always marvellous and being just across the water from the main square was awesome. Eventually we headed out west on the way home, a good look at Verona, passing by the great Italian lakes and the foothills of the mountains, and one dreadful night when we decided to miss out a Youth Hostel and kip down in the trees quite high up. After all it was warm in Italy. Except it was bitter cold and by morning we were gibbering. Through Basel, where we saw Rodin’s great Gates of Hell with the Thinker out in the open and then up through Luxembourg back to the Ferry over to Harwich, a lift up to the Ipswich Road and walking home. It was a deep experience of Europe and its riches for both of us. Hi, Mum. There was the kindness of those who gave us lifts and the easy getting along together that was part of the L stream ethos. Colin was a great companion, culturally aware, thinking things through, learning and teaching, and low-key fun. It was a good trip lasting five weeks on under £35. Next year, we agreed, we’d push it a bit further. This was really just the first course.