An Englishman’s Word is His Bond - Jack Riegen

Every winter when I open my C.T.C. Magazine I never cease to look in amazement at the supplement of leader-led cycle tours for the ensuing year. Jet flight has opened up almost all parts of the world to our wheels, and an indefatigable band of cyclists is eager to introduce their fellow members to the joys of exploring in near or distant places.

Inevitably my mind goes back to the nineteen-thirties when there was just one such tour. That was organised by the C.T.C. secretary, Neville Whall, who used the pseudonym “Hodites”. For several years he took a party on the Continent, and one of the highlights of the following winter was to attend his lecture on the tour, illustrated with black and white lantern slides made from his excellent photographs. These lectures were so popular that he could fill Sadlers Wells Theatre or Faringdon Hall. I never joined one of Hodites’ tours, but I am sure it was he who inspired many of us to venture across the water.

I recall an incident from one lecture that is worth recounting. The party had been touring Switzerland and the Northern Italian lakes, and they were riding along a road that entered Italy, passed back into Switzerland, and then for a second time entered Italy. It must be remembered that this was a time when Mussolini was talking and acting bombastically, so that this borderline area was a sensitive one, with plenty of military presence on both sides. Well, the party came to the first Italian border and here, said Hodites, the Customs sealed our cameras. So the next pictures were taken with sealed cameras! Later they came to the second Italian frontier. Here, said Hodites, they did not seal our cameras, but we promised that we would not take any pictures; so we have no photos of the next part of our tour!

I toured that area with a pal in 1938, and I fell foul of the same Italian customs. We had to fill in a form stating what currencies we were holding. Besides “Swiss” I wrote F 50, but unfortunately I wrote a cursive F (facing left) and this was mistaken for a 7. I had learnt only enough Italian to get bed and breakfast, but it was obvious from the gesticulations of the customs men that they wanted to know why I was carrying 750 Swiss francs. My attempts at explanation were unavailing, and we had to empty our bags and pockets; it must have made their day!

On our last evening in Italy we arrived at the small town of Chiavenna, intending to cross into Switzerland the following morning. We put our Italian currency together and found we had the equivalent of 18/6d (the equivalent of 92 and 1/2 p in new money!). We decided we could afford to “live it up” for one night, so we booked in at Hotel Conradi & Castello, and certainly enjoyed food, comfort and service above our usual standard. Our four course dinner, with wine, coffee and liqueur, was served in an attractive arched dining-room with subdued lighting, with two waiters constantly in attendance. As for the bedroom, it was the first time I had slept in a room with a bedside light! Breakfast: (croissants with butter and honey, and coffee ad lib), was served in a spacious conservatory with basket-work furniture. Our bill (with 15% service charge) came to 94.70 lire, about eighteen shillings! I still have it in my album.

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