1970 School Magazine

Our Air France Caravelle flew us on from the icy ak of Venice to the warm sunshine of the French Riviera in a matter of hours. How we stared in admiration at the trendy sports cars and Rolls Royces rolling up to the gates-of the Monte Carlo Casino! \7e dared not look at our own drab attire of skirts, blouses and casuals when the beautiful women 'looking a million', emerged carrying poodles bound for the Dogs' Beauty Salon of course! - from their automobiles" After our three days in Nice we hopped on by Panam to b,ry Spanish sombreros and struggle with castanets in Barcelona advice : do not ffy to play castanets unless you have six fingers on each hand! In Madrid, everything we devoured at our own expense burnt a hole in our purses in- cluding a rather evil-smelling shell fish omelette ! After that, I could not possibly have stomached a plate of fresh 'garden' snails in Paris, our next stop, or a medium coke for that matter either fiftv cents a pop ! - S-o-, we all went dty on our tours around Paris. \X/e counted nine million people in the 'rues' of the city, sniffed fifty dif- ferent French perfumes, smiled back at the 'Mona Lisa' in the Louvre, took photos of the Eiffel Tower and the profusely elaborate Palace of Versailles , practised our few French words, like 'Bonjour Madame', to almost every 'Parisienne' woman we saw, and boarded our next 'home in the sky' to Amsterdam Amsterdam Airport greeted us with parcels mounting high, at sixteen degrees Fahrenheit quite chillv I think, but still no snow which we all wanted Santa to bring us for Christmas. A phone call from home on rhe other side of the globe on Christmas morning is enough to' turn on the 'waterworks' in anyone; that morning, we aII howled and went through so many tissues it did not matter ! With well-satisfied stomachs on scrumptious Dutch Christmas Cake, which sur- prisingly is exceedingly different from ours, we were very much appreciative for everything that duy within the walls of a modest little Dutch Church beside a canal. After 'clogging' our way through the streets while singing carols (it is true | - and so is the thirteen thousand dollar ring we each fitted to our finger at the diamond cutiers ! ) and sizing up the six feet four inch hippies, we then flew on to see how their brothers in London measured up. By duy in London we were tourists AND looked it I cameras slung over shoulders, bags with foreign stickers, mainly Ausmalian ( very patriotic of course ! ) we were even told we looked like tourists by the way we wore our over' coatsl All I am thankful for is that no-one

With my stomach all aflutter,

And my taithful bas beside,

And forty days ahead of rne

(W hich now are my pride )

I said larewell to Brisbane And. all Australia toot To braue the big, nerD outside world, T o see horizons netD. Qantas Flight 7 4L bound for Singapore floated off into the clouds with fifteen tear-filled huppy girls aboard to be one close family fol the next forty days. \7ith each thumping heart anticip ating each neur thrill and each make-up smudged face pressed against the foggy windows, we experienced a new world in itself, a world in the air, of billowing clouds, and blue for-ever; a world to carry each of us .from one g y and exciting city to the next, Exotic Singapore opened its arms to welcome us, scavenging little Malayan boys tried to opetl our purses, while we opened our mouths wide in loud disapproval of prides asked for articles in Change Alley.' After much exciting baryaining, we always paid our own price while the little Malayan boys would only bow and smile and sdy, "Okayee, five dollar not, ten!" With swollen and blisteied'feet, laddere8 stockings and empty purses, we sank into armchairs at our hotel for dinner. So much for duckling in wine sauce ( served on our Qantas jet bv our good-looking steward ! ! ) when our sensitive little tongues tasted Malayan satay irk! Biting through tomato-sauce-filled pizzas in Rome, our next stop, instead of satay on a stick, was more to our Australian taste, but give me bacon and eggs any duy! Sile ate yards of spaghetti with a spoon, saur the Pope, sat within the majestic Colosseum, threw coin's into Trevi Fountain, were nearly run over a number of times bv Fiats ( because the cars do everything back-to-front and go up the wrong side of the street ! ) , and we were even shut in an Italiano department store while we tried on Italiano jumpers from Australian wool (because the shops do everything back-to-front too, and close at two o'clock! ). The police, ( oh the police! ) lookecl like twentieth century Napoleons, but our guide could have been mistaken for Omar Sherif !! That is why my knowledge of Rome is greater than most other cities visited ! My knowledge of Venice consists of beauti- ful glassw are, delicate lace, yards of spaghetti (againl ),millions of pigeons, which we fed like pamots at Currumbin, and gondolas rocking over dismal canals.

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