The journey continues, Final episode 31st Dec to Early February 1965 It is the morning of Tuesday 29th December 1964 as we leave Amritsar.............. *** We are still on the Grand Trunk Road and will be until Delhi when we head South West to Bombay while the GTR continues on to Calcutta. This road carries a lot of traffic and yet the tarmac is barely one lane width wide with soft (very) shoulders. As a result we have to constantly avoid oncoming traffic by shifting from the middle of the tarmac to being halfway on the soft shoulder. Whoever is in the back of Greyhound gets a very bumpy, rough ride. To relieve the boredom of being in the back of the land rover, we often fold back the canvas top and stand up. Its a bit windy but as we rarely exceed 50 MPH it is quite safe provided you hang on firmly to the struts. The miles roll by and we pass through Jalandhar, Luidhiana, Khanna and Chandigarh before arriving at Ambala and are halfway between Lahore & Delhi our next major city and where Jock expects to get more mail and, we for our part hope, to enjoy some hospitality from the good expats in the British High Commission. In Ambala we buy our food for the night and camp on the perimeter of the township. We have no sugar for our tea or coffee as it is rationed in India and we were unable to qualify for ration cards from the Indian Gov and at the same time it is a fasting day in this area and no meat is available either. Wherever we stop large crowds gather and most of those in the crowd are very friendly. On a few occasions however, the person in the back spies a hand sneaking its way into the back of Greyhound from under the canvas searching for some Booty. A swift tap on the knuckles soon deters the miscreant and to date we havent lost any equipment in this fashion. Pretty much a nothing type of day however, we have noticed that everything in India, so far seems to be in much better order than in Pakistan. Wednesday 30th December 1964 Next morning we move on early to get to Delhi in time to establish ourselves in the Youth Hostel where we will stay until the am of 4th January 1965. The drive is uneventful although we are seeing many native animals and there are many more villages along the GTR. Old Delhi starts about 20 miles out from the city centre and while our progress early is rapid we are soon bogged down and move painfully slowly through the suburbs. The roads are narrow, congested full of all forms of transport and like Amritsar, teeming with people. Once in the city centre it all improves and we move quickly to New Delhi built by the Brits as the administrative centre and capital of The Raj We make for the High Commission and where Jock will collect his mail. We are seen by Mr C Gordon Crews -British Trade Commissioner who gave us some excellent contact points and which helped to make our stay here, not only longer but, very much more enjoyable. The YHA here (Bholi Bhatyar Ana Mahal) is situated on the fringe of New Delhi and the old city - it is very central. In addition it is a bit of a cross road for travellers and we expected to meet more of our ilk here and we were not disappointed for there were youngsters like us from all over the world. In particular we enjoyed the company of Beatrice Johanssen & Bo Carlson from Kalmar in Sweden. The Swedes, like the Germans have been travellers since the Vikings and those 2 people had been backpacking in Asia for the best part of 6 months. 31st December 1964 - YHA New Delhi It was decided to celebrate the new year with our new found friends in the YHA. We built a bonfire, prepared a large meal, including baked beans which, had been off of the menu for a while and soup, eggs chips, some veggies together with much fruit. At 9 pm we, Swiss, German, Swedes, Jock the Scot and us, the four Brits gathered to eat, drink, and see the New Year in. A sing song ensued with each nationality singing a song from their country. We had managed to obtain some scotch and beer so we did the night quite some justice. As the time clicked onto 12pm (we had set an alarm) we broke into Auld Lang Syne with the usual holding of hands. Handshakes, kisses all round (Ladies only) and while some departed for their tents, a strong contingent made for the High Commission. We had a ball, found few parties going on and finally returned to the YHA much the worse for wear at 5.30am that morning, 1st of Jan 1965. *** Friday 1st Jan 1965 Delhi - India Well we gave the old year and incoming year quite a going over and it was some very sorry looking overlanders who ventured to the British High Commission compound and the swimming pool midway through the day. We met many people here and through contacts given earlier by Mr Crews we had many social engagements to attend. The first of these was for drinks (That magic word) with Mr Alan Gilmore - Deputy Director British information Service - India. That description was on his business card and it ran to 2 lines with not much room for anything else. Arriving punctually at 7.00 pm and were immediately offered a sherry (very British & very dry as well) followed by canapés and many other drinks the like of which we had not tasted since the last farewell party on Oct 13th 1964. It was most enjoyable and furthermore, we gained an enormous amount of info about the next part of the drive. The evening’s discussion encompassed many subjects but we mostly enjoyed his tales of postings to exotic places and one such tale in particular. Alan had been sent to Dar es Salaam - Tanzania (Tanganyika in those days & ruled by Dr Julius Nyerere) just after they had become an independent nation. Alan told us that there was quite some animosity towards the British Consulate staff from the locals and that on one day 12 dead rats appeared on the steps of the town hall. Each one had a label around its neck with the name of a consular person written on the label. Alan was proud to say that his name had been put on the 12th one. Soon after however, he said, his office was burnt down, to which he added - I was frightfully cross. He was a real life character out of Yes Minister On the 2nd of Jan we took in the sights of Old Delhi with its magnificent old buildings, markets, mosques and temples while at the same time enjoying some locally made curries as we toured the area. It was in stark contrast to the newer buildings of New Delhi with its, wide roads, little traffic and the many opulent Consular compounds. I think we enjoyed the old part more but, the promise of home style comforts such as a party in the British Consulate compound in New Delhi that night kept us going back there. It was a very good party - beer, food, the latest Beatles & Stones records, candlelight dancing, and, of course, some very nice young ladies to dance with. It rained that night and our equipment which we had left outside to air was soaked and so we stayed in Delhi a little longer. Another consular function loomed on the horizon – a bumper Whist drive” which Pip & Jock participated in while Ian, Brian & Clive observed from the bar??? Pip won a prize for the worst performer and was presented with a carved wooden fish some 18 inches in length which, when pulled apart revealed a carving knife & fork. Most of the whist players were wives of consular officials and at the end of the event 2 of them presented us with 2 packets X 2lb of Walls pork sausages and 2lb of sugar. The gifts were gratefully received and the snags became our next meal which we shared with the remaining hostellers at the YHA. 4th January 1965 - on the road again We bade farewell to our new found friends in Delhi and after packing our now dry clothes etc we set forth for “Agra” and what was, for me at least, the most beautiful sight of the whole journey and indeed many journeys since - The Taj Mahal We drove past towns with names like Faridabad, Palwal, Kosi & Mathura finally stopping north of “Agra” at a suitable camp site. There were monkeys & many, many parrots in the trees above but they gave us no trouble and we cooked the final 5 Walls pork sausages for dinner accompanied by a healthy serve of mashed spuds. Tomorrow we will make the short drive into “Agra” and the splendour of its most well known building - the Taj *** Tuesday 5th January 1965... As we drive towards Agra there is a heavy mist coming from the Jumna River which winds itself round the back of the Taj Mahal, the sun is just rising above the mist making the whole scene quite mysterious. We wind our way through the streets of “Agra”, not a spectacular town but the host to the world’s most famous building. We take breakfast there before daring to make the final move towards the Taj Mahal. Rounding each corner we get glimpses of its magnificence through the trees and the majestic entrance building through which we will shortly walk. Greyhound is parked and we approach the red brick entrance gate - all of a sudden its there, framed in the middle of the archway and your eyes are drawn to it by the slim lines of the shrub lined ponds which lead directly to the magnificence of the Taj Mahal. As we move forward a Sikh soldier approaches, Sahib, he barks one must sign the visitors book before one meets the mother building Our entrance is delayed, each of us making an entry in what must be the biggest darn book Ive ever seen in my life. We glance back through a number of pages - OMG the whole damn world has past through these portals at some time or other. Emerging out of the Archway we are immediately almost blinded by the reflection of the sun on marble and it takes us a little while to focus. We walk towards the Taj drawn by its beauty, symmetry and overawed by its size. Built by Shah Jahan during his reign as Emperor, (1628 - 1657) as a final resting for his wife Mumtaz the Taj is probably the most magnificent edifice built to honour another human being. Taking our time, we inspect the marble with its intricate hand made carvings replicated on each and every other block of marble on the whole building. Inside it is cool but clammy, and yet it is also dry - its an erie feeling and in contrast to the outside we wait a while as our eyes adjust once again to the different light. Even my brother Ian marvelled at the Taj. It really is totally impossible to describe the Taj Mahal and do it the justice it deserves. We just sat on the marble walls of the ponds and soaked ourselves in it’s beauty. We would have stayed for the evening and viewed it under moonlight but it was not the time of a full moon and so we prepared to move on. We all turned our heads back many times as we walked slowly back to the entrance. One last look, a couple of photos and it was back to Greyhound There are now only 700 miles to go before we reach Bombay (Mumbai as it is now) and we settle into our Dak, cook the food we bought in Agra and enjoy a game of cards before sleeping. We are in Gwalior a small town but as ever teeming with humanity. Wednesday 6th January - Biaora With barely a few miles left (in comparison to the whole journey) we all agree to fast track it to Bombay and prepare Greyhound and ourselves for the voyage to Melboune - Australia while at the same time allowing us to enjoy the sights and amenities of the city. Also Jock has decided to come with us to Australia and we will have to organise his passage with McKinnons, the agent for P & O shipping in Bombay. As it turned out we needed a lot of time to organise that as most of the ships were full of migrants (10 pound Poms) and there was precious little cabin space available. We set off at a fair lick on the now narrowing roads with Jock on his Lambretta waving trucks out of our way. Not sure how we got away with it but we did. We negotiated our way round many bullock carts, dogs, and people making sure that we didnt disturb the Holy Cows that littered every highway & byway. By now when the call of nature demanded a stop we simply did in Rome what the Indians did every morning without batting an eyelid. Well have to break this habit in Melbourne!!!. That evening we feasted on baked beans (again), mashed spuds, fried onions and fried tomato’s - absolutely magnificent. BTW, the beans were the last of our supply. Sad to say tho, we still had plenty of sardines which, as it turned out, we did not eat again for a meal of any sort. Heaven help P & O if they serve sardines on toast for breakfast. We also tried some exotic Indian fruit which a local lad in Agra had recommended and although we never found out what there name we, we enjoyed its taste. While we were cooking who should but Roland and his wife who we had initally met in Zahedan - Iran some weeks earlier and who we had met on other occasions also. Jock first met them as far away as the Dead Sea. They were on their way back to Lahore to sojourn for the remaining month or so of winter before moving on. For our part S.S. Iberia departs Bombay on 21st Jan so our deadline is set in concrete. We had covered just over 200 miles again today Thursday 7th Jan1965 - Julwania It was getting very hot from 10.00am daily now and the tender white skin of our (now be-shorted) legs were getting a little burnt from the sun as we drove with the soft top rolled up. It was pretty dusty but not as bad as the deserts of Iran and Baluchistan. As we motored Greyhound our trusty steed conspired once again to delay our progress for without warning she lurched dramatically to the side of the road - the other side. Quickly jumping out we soon found the cause of our woes. The driver’s side wheel was pointing to the right while the passenger wheel was pointing straight ahead. The cotter pin holding the ball joint to the track rod had come out and the ball joint had wrenched away. This could be a most damaging moment but, we just laughed our heads off!!! By now we had become immune to the vagaries of Greyhound and set about repairing the problem. With the aid of some wire supplied by a missionary from just across the road and a few well aimed blow of a hammer we made fast the steering once again. We enjoyed a cuppa with the missionary family whose teenage daughter implored us to Stay the night, we never meet anyone but decided to move on as Daddy gave us a sort of withering look. Moving cautiously, to test our latest repair, we soon found that it was doing the job so we resumed our rapid progress. Over the last few weeks we had lightened our load somewhat and Greyhound seemed to use less petrol than at any time previously which was a blessing as petrol in India was almost as expensive as in France where it was the dearest of all the countries we’d travelled through. This area of India was also proving to be quite arid and we had difficulty finding enough water for personal washing although we always had enough for cooking, that is after chlorination and boiling it for over an hour before use. Dak Bungalows, our normal source of water (and occasional accommodation) were not to be found so when ever we saw a well we would implore the farmer for a bucketful to douse ourselves. That night it was almost unbearably hot (for us Poms) and so we slept tent flaps open to allow what breeze there was to flow. We slept on top of our sleeping bags and not inside with a blanket on top. It was very pleasant as the evening cooled off and we all slept until the sun rose. Friday 8th January 1965 - Igatpuri 85 Miles from Bombay After an early start we made short work of the first 100 miles which took us to a small town called Malegaon and did our food purchasing for tonight. It was a small market but bustled like most, the people were friendly as usual and we had great time for an hour or so fielding numerous questions. From here we encountered the Ghats (Hills) of the Satpura Ranges and the road twisted and turned like an endless switchback - it made for an exciting drive. The surrounding hills were predominately khaki in colour but even in this arid land there were fields of crops whose bright colours relieved the boredom of the khaki. Throughout India we have been delighted by the sight of many wild animals, monkeys, parrots and other creatures but today was the daddy of them all - there he was, this great big bull Elephant simply ambling down the highway in the opposite direction, not a Mahout in sight it was the stuff of dreams. We hoped hed lift his trunk and trumpet for us but to no avail. After driving a bit further we came across a well and took the opportunity of having a bloody good sluice in the attached reservoir - it was good and we became clean once again. We wrote the days log high (2500) up on the last escarpment of the Satpura Ranges overlooking the plain that tomorrow would convey us to Bombay. After dinner and as night fell we could see in the very distance a glow - yes they were the lights of Bombay. A feeling of great excitement grew among us as we also realised that the fresh wind blowing was unmistakably of the ocean - the Arabian Sea We were camped under a high tension pylon, the wind made the wires hum and as the night finally arrived we could see, in the distance near Bombay, the vivid flashes of a wild electrical storm. It was like the ending of the 1812 overture. All that was missing were the thunderous roars of the cannons. We slept fitfully that night as we realised that shortly we would reach the end of the beginning of our journey. Tomorrow we reach Bombay and it will be Saturday 9th January 1965 *** The morning of the 9th January 1965 couldnt come soon enough for us, the 4 lads from Kent, UK and the dour Scot, Jock who had tagged along since Quetta many miles back. There was an air of anticipation as we rose, ate breakfast, made fast Greyhound cranked the motor into life and pulled away from our campsite high on the hills surrounding the peninsula upon which Bombay is built. We were all excited but not much was said as we followed Jock on his Lambretta down the Ghats The road was steep and the bends torturous but we knocked off 35 miles in the first hour, not bad going for the old girl. The Ghats were soon behind us and we moved towards Bombay on the plain. Our progress however, was soon halted by a series of level crossings at which we had to wait up to half an hour each time. This was due to manual closure of the gates by a rail worker whose instruction was to shut the crossing down some 20 minutes before the scheduled passing. On 2 occasions the train was 10 or more minutes late. Despite our protestations and mild attempts at bribery the attendants just would not let us through. While we waited at the first crossing an attempt was made to straighten out a dent in the offside wing caused by our one and only collision (early yesterday morning) with a bullock cart. We came off worse than the bullocks or the cart. The driver, as we swore at him, just gave us a broad smile revealing the extent of his beetle nut chewing habit. They just love the colour red in India. In order to atone for our outburst we presented him with 2, yes you guessed it, tins of sardines!!! Once the crossing delays were behind us we made steady progress towards Bombay. A sea breeze was evident; there was ozone in the air. At each junction the traffic got heavier, we were passing little settlements, children waved to us as we passed but the farmers in the fields barely lifted their heads as they went about their tilling and planting. A traffic light appeared, thank god it was green as we were through it before we realised what it was. Then there was a signpost proudly declaring BOMBAY 3 MILES then it was 2 and finally we were there, mad traffic, mad people, too many bullock carts and so many bicycles. How we got through that lot was a miracle. We pulled over, shook hands, patted and kissed Greyhound. The land content was over and there was just 12 days to go before we embarked on SS Iberia bound for Australia. Having manoeuvred our way to the office of McKinnon, McKenzie & Co the P & O agent in Bombay, we had high expectations of receiving the mail which was being held for us. Once again the old Indian bureaucrats held sway and we were told the mail wallah is with lunch sahib Well that was it for almost an hour. Our mail, lots of it, was in a pidgeon hole no more than 2 metres away but no amount of persuasion could get anyone to give it to us. A man came into the office after 40 minutes, there was a hurried conversation with the first man and then Oh Sahib I have much mail for you. and followed up by saying do you have means of identification. 10 minutes later we finally got the letters, sat in an office and gleefully read them to ourselves and each other. Good old Mum & Dad there was some cash for Christmas for brothers Ian & Clive and also for Pip & Brian. We could now enjoy a drink on board Iberia when we sailed for Australia. More good luck came our way as Jock, being a scout leader back in Scotland had contacts here while we, for the first time, had none. Jocks contact was 62 year old Mr Valecha, an old sailor, now exporter and prominent in the scouting movement in India. And so it was that we found ourselves lodging at the scout building - Chunilal Mahatma scout hall on Mahatma Ghandi Road close to Victoria Railway Station, Crawford Market, Marine Drive some playing fields. We were quite chuffed to find ourselves in such good circumstances but little did we know that Jock had represented us to Mr Valecha as being in the scout movement. It was to have repercussions that would eventually reach Australia.. *** Sunday 10th January 1965 - Bombay Bombay has had many names, from Heptanesia (from Ptolemy in AD150 ) to Bom Bahia, (Portugese for Good Bay),Mumbadevi, Mambe to its current name of Mumbai. It has been ruled by Hindu fisher folk, Muslim Kings, the Portuguese, the British, Parsis, Punjabis and now by the Maharastrians. Bombay was an important trading city in India from as far back as 1672 when the East India Company ruled on behalf of Britain and gave the city of Bombay freedom of religion and of movement. Later, when the civil war in America was raging and the supply of cotton to England ceased, Bombay filled the breach. Between 1861 and 1865 Bombay earned 81 million pounds sterling more than it would have normally received for its cotton. In 1869 the Suez canal opened and Bombay truly became the Gateway to India supplanting Calcutta as the richest city in the Indian Empire Now almost every Eastbound Ship called into Bombay after going thru Suez. The Gateway of India, a domed arch of yellow basalt surrounded by 4 turrets, was built in 1927 to commemorate the arrival, some 16 years earlier of George V; instead it marked the exit of British rule when the last of the troops marched through it to board their ships en-route to England. (Extract from, Bombay Lost and Found - Seketu Mehta). We awoke to a clear day, crisp but not cold in the Chunilal Scout hut, the air was clean and refreshing for Bombay is built on a peninsula. Sea breezes gently waft across Bombay generally riding the area of the fumes and fog usually associated with Indian cities. To rid ourselves of the last few days travel we drove up Marine Drive to an area called Breach Candy on Malibar Hill where a swimming pool had been built for the British civil servants of bygone days. Now it was in Trust: to the local consular office and as a result was full of expats and travellers like us and for the princely sum of 2 Rupees one could bathe all day under the winter (still 25c tho) sun. We used the pool on a number of occasions during our 12 day sojourn in Bombay. Almost all the travellers at the Breach Candy were bound for Australia however, unlike us, none had tickets for a shipboard passage and they would soon discover how difficult they were to obtain. Our connection to P & O via Pip was to be of telling assistance to Jock, who also had not troubled to book his onward passage and we were able to get him a berth on SS Iberia with us. Later on we heard that 4 of the people we met at the pool were forced to return to the UK, being unable to get a ticket. It was not hard to work out the reason why they were like hens teeth as, in those days each Aussie bound ship was full to the gills with 10 pound poms. At night the area around the scout hut was occupied by many homeless people who slept under cardboard, newspapers or any cover they could find to ward off the winter chill. During the day they disappeared to do whatever they had to in eking out a living. It was sad sight but we did not have the finance or ability to help so many people. Monday 11th Jan 1965 Egg & Bacon for breakfast and boy was it good!! and so it was that 5 well fed, spotlessly clean lads went to the shipping agent to finalise arrangements for our and Greyhounds passage to Australia. We had arranged for friends in the UK to take our trunks (luggage) to Tilbury (London) for loading in the hold of SS Iberia. We were looking forward to getting into some decent clothing when we got access to the cargo hold after boarding the ship. At McKinnon & McKenzie a pleasant surprise was revealed in the form of a First Class A Deck cabin and not the D Deck cabin we had paid for. Good fortune also fell Jocks way for in addition to him getting a passage, he also got A Deck treatment. Freight office took details of Greyhound measurements, soft top down, windscreen flat across the bonnet etc. All was in order for the sea leg. It was in the afternoon that we got the shock. In talking to Mr Valecha, we discovered that in the next week or so we were (As scouts??) to be part of an official function to welcome Lord Neville the head of the Scout movement in England and cousin of Lord Baden-Powell, founder of the Scout movement. The major problem was, of course that Jock had said we were all scouts - while he was the only one. Not much we could about it so Jock, due to his white lie now had to instruct us in the ways of the movements secrets, left hand shakes etc. Tuesday 12th January 1965 Back to hard grind today because we had to thoroughly clean Greyhound of any alien soil before she was permitted into Australia. We had travelled over all sorts of terrain including hot tar while a road was being laid. The underside of the old girl was caked with layers of mud, grit, stones and sealed with tar from roadwork’s way back in Turkey. It was to be an almighty job. Stripped to the waist, in pairs we toiled most of the morning ceasing only when the heat got too much. There were many sightseers, they gathered 5 minutes after we started and didn’t leave until we finished for the day. Some even pointed out the bits we had missed - thank you very much wed say to the well meaning folk and then went on with the job!!! We only managed to complete 1/4 of the task and then washed up (we were filthy) and later that night we all wrote individual letters back home in addition to the log book. Bed was early as Mr Valecha was taking us on at table tennis next morning at 6.00am (he rose daily at 4.00am) followed by a walk along the Westerly section of Marine drive which juts out into the Arabian Sea. Then we will explore more of Bombay. Only 9 more days to luxury, beer, good food and the company of females-roll on 21st Jan *** Wednesday 13th January 1965. And we were up at 5.30am, had a cuppa cha before Mr Valecha arrived. We all piled into Greyhound who by now, been stripped of the soft top and its frame and drove off in the fresh morning air to the YMCA for table tennis. Now Mr Valecha at 62 is a very fit man, fleet of foot, reflexes of a 25 year old and he proceeded to thrash each and every one of us together with all comers in the room. He plays daily at YMCA having risen at 4.00am. He runs a successful export business and much of the day to day admin of the “Scout movement in Bombay. Tomorrow is Jocks birthday and to celebrate we have invited our host, Mr Valecha and his family to join us for dinner in the scout hut. After table tennis we all went for a walk on the westerly end of Marine Drive which has been constructed on reclaimed land and juts out into the Arabian Sea. It seemed like half of Bombays population were doing the same thing and most of them knew Mr Valecha accordingly there were many introductions. We departed and made our way back to the scout hut where, being very hungry, we cooked up some steak and onions which we had purchased on the way back. Refreshed and well fed we again fell upon the cleaning of Greyhound who was only 1/4 clean and we had to make her perfectly clean before entry into Australia. Last night, Khanna, a friend of Mr Valecha took us to diner and we had the most delicious series of curry dishes. Khanna had also invited us to dinner at his flat on Friday 15th and to meet his parents. We continue to be feted and are still continually amazed but very grateful for the attention we are receiving. A few more hours of toil passed and Greyhound was now half clean. It was a struggle working underneath the vehicle, torch in hand, scrapping the underside to rid of the accumulation of dirt of 3 1/2 months travelling. Back inside the hut Fali, a senior scouter and pastry cook introduced himself and provided a dozen very tasty cream cakes at half the normal price - we paid about 3 Rupees. They were delicious and we polished them off with great gusto!!!! Thursday 14th January 1965 - one week to SS Iberia More work on Greyhound this morning and we made better progress than on previous attempts. This was because we were now working on the passenger side where there was less tar and dirt than in the middle of the road. One more session and she will be spotless. Hopefully Greyhound will pass muster and no steam cleaning will be necessary in Melbourne. Late last night we made some jelly for Jocks party however, when we awoke this morning it hadnt set so we got some ice and packed the basin and sat the jelly on top - it worked but we had to keep replenishing the ice as the day wore on and got progressively hotter. We went to the Crawford market and bought some fresh veggies and Pip, the designated Chef (at his request), prepared the meal while we were banned from the kitchen as he toiled over the 2 hot primus stoves We had kept the birthday thing secret from Jock and without him knowing bought a cake suitable inscribed. Actually we got 3 but kept the best one away from him. The Swedish couple, Beatrice & Bo, had arrived in Bombay (we met them in the YHA in Delhi over new years) and were staying at the YMCA so we also invited them for the dinner that evening. At 7pm Brian and I drove to the Y and picked them up. I have to say at this stage that I was quite taken with Beatrice and in the short time we had known each other we very much enjoyed our short lived friendship. We exchanged addresses and vowed to meet in Europe on our return and although we exchanged a couple of letters later in Australia, that meeting was destined never to occur. When we got back to the scout hut the Valechas were already there and had contributed to the evening with a delicious curry. The whole meal, expertly prepared by Pip was soon consumed, presents given, songs sung and finally the real birthday cake appeared followed by a hearty rendition of happy Birthday. Jock was tickled pink - it had been a great night. The Valechas left but Beatrice and Bo stayed on with Bo strumming his guitar, Beatrice singing and after that we produced the portable record player and got Chuck Berry , the Beatles and Ray Charles on the turntable Well on the wrong side of 2am the party finally finished, farewell to Beatrice & Bo, they were of to Colombo and we made plans to meet when we docked there some time after 21st January. Friday 15th January 1965 Finally, after a couple of hours of work Greyhound was as spotless as she was ever going to be. We had made plenty of friends from passers by as we cleaned her, many of whom actually came back after work or whatever to have more chats. We were somewhat bemused by a constantly recurring question - Why did the British leave India. We had heard this many times since Amritsar and always gave the same answer - your people led by Mr Ghandi forced us to go we would exclaim. Oh no no came the retort Mr Ghandi only had 5 million followers - we are a nation of 400 Million - We didnt want you to go - Makes you think doesnt it !!!!! Having completed the worst task of the journey resulting with Greyhound being in a fit state to be received into Australia our minds turned to lazy pleasures. Almost all at once we cried Breach Candy the swimming complex just past Malibar Hill on Marine drive and so it was that we ended up there again, this time for almost the rest of the day. The same overlanders were there, still without passage and as Iberia sailed on 21st Jan their chances were getting slimmer by the day. As we said earlier, none of the lads joined us on the sea passage and some reluctantly returned to their homeland. The temperature reached 80 deg F and we just enjoyed lazing around, frolicking in then water and chatting up the local expats daughters. We were warming up for the Cruise on the 21st. Back at the hut we prepared for dinner with Khanna who lived a short distance away. After making ourselves as presentable as we could, we walked to Khannas flat and were greeted as long standing friends. Dinner was taken in a lounge room sitting on the floor and (what else) consisted of various curries, side dishes and accompanied by Japatis (Naan) and saffron rice. It was delicious. Just when we thought we could eat no more, in came the manservant with more. Jelly & fruit followed by Cha almost precisely at 10pm in came Khannas dad, we were introduced and he quickly retreated to whence hed came. It was a very brief meeting indeed. There are only 6 more days until departure and the next leg of our journey but on Sunday 16th we have to meet Lord Neville and Bombay’s Scouting elite - we just cant wait??? *** It is Saturday 16th January 1965........ After a surfeit of much good food, good company and the festivities of the past few days, we all felt like having a lazy, carefree day and so it was that we all ended up at the fabulous oasis at Breach Candy on Malibar Hill, down Marine Drive. Jock, not feeling at all well (birthday celebrations) did not join us and remained at the scout hut. We all piled into the now convertible Greyhound and made the 2 KM journey to the pool. Along the short journey we were constantly waved to, stared at or asked to Stop & tell us about your journey. We continue to be amazed by the interest shown by strangers. At Breach Candy our attention was grabbed by a little girl, no more than 4/5 years of age who made her way to the top of the 10 metre diving board where she proceeded to execute, what seemed like, perfect dives. This she did many times and we marvelled at her skill. Only Ian amongst us, being a good swimmer, was game to even climb up to the top of the board tower let alone dive. He did tho, and executed a dive more akin to a belly flop than anything wed seen that morning. Apart from this little gem, there were, of course, plenty of older good looking sorts, so once our admiration of the juvenile diver waned, we turned our attention to Chatting with the teenaged expats. It was quite stimulating to see the female form in anything other the Burkas and Gowns wed become used to for the greater part of the journey. The downside of Breach Candy was however, that Non Europeans were excluded from entry, even if accompanied by a qualified person. Although we had deduced that this was the case, it wasnt until we had it officially confirmed that we made this our last visit. A few years later this rule was changed, not through any moralistic view but because the Municipality of Bombay threatened it with closure!!! Good on,em Prior to our visit to Breach Candy that day, Brian & Jock had visited the previously notorious area - Grant Road where, in days gone bye, it had been the Red Light district. The purpose of that visit was to try on their made to measure shorts. They had been down that way sightseeing a few days earlier when a tailor insisted they buy shorts from him. Despite explaining that they had no money the tailor said not to worry and they could send the money to him after arriving in Australia. The shorts were duly made and taken. Attempts were made in Aussie to remit the money by TT but after three goes and after sending a letter to the Tailor from which no reply was received they gave up trying. This was not the first time we had heard of Grant Road and its dubious past. Just before we left the UK way back in October 64 Ian & I visited our Grandparents Ada & George to say farewell Now George had been a bit of a tearaway in his youth, joining the merchant navy at age 14 as a cabin boy on the last of the China Clippers. In between voyages hed joined up in the Cavalry and fought in South Africa in the Boer War under Baden-Powell. On the occasion of our visit he gave us 2 warnings - Dont go down Grant Road they have naughty ladies there in cages (Ada was aghast - George dont tell the boys that) but he just visibly reddened and said nothing. No more was said on that subject His second piece of advice was - you wont like Melbourne, its only a little Village compared to London not much happening there he continued. He was serious and when we asked when hed been there he solemnly declared not that long ago lads - 1910 I think!!! Id love to have had the opportunity to show him around Melbourne today and see his reaction. Sunday 17th January 1965 today was given to securing belongings, a walk around the parklands near the scout hut and preparations for the reception for Lord Nevile and his wife. At 5.00pm they arrived accompanied by Bombay’s Scout Commissioners, Mr Valecha, various representatives of the many troops in Bombay and us. Jock was resplendent in his uniform while we had to do the best in cut down jeans and a old weather worn shirts. We all managed the left hand, hand shakes well enough but wavered when asked about Cub Pack details such as “21st Beckenham” where I had been Cub. Speeches came and went. Lady Neville said not one word, nodded at what seemed the appropriate places and generally took no real notice of the proceedings at all. No doubt shed been to many such gatherings. Tea and biscuits followed and we all spoke at length to Lord Neville for he was genuinely interested in our journey. He was most impressed when we produced the letter from Prince Phillip, on Buck Palace letterhead, encouraging us in our endeavours. It was an interesting afternoon/evening and we believed wed done a good ambassadorial job for the youth of Great Britain. Later, in Australia, when Jock had joined a Scout Troop a message from HQ London was read out at one of their meetings. It advised that there were some travellers masquerading as scouts in India and that they are making their way to Australia OMG. It was satisfactorily squared away later but we did feel guilty at the time. Monday 18th & Tuesday 19th January 1965... By now we just wanted to be on board Iberia and off to Australia however, there were a few things to be done before the 21st and embarkation. We had just about exhausted our supply of Rupees and didnt want to change more sterling so our activities were somewhat restricted. We made another visit to Mackinnon & Mackenzie where it was finally confirmed wed scored first class passage cabins and that Jock also had a share cabin on “A” deck with us. More mail was handed over and by now we had become welcome celebrities at this office and were received as long time friends on each visit - no more Mail Wallah is at lunch, they just handed the mail over when we arrived. Today we learned the derivation of a word commonly used in the English language POSH. Apparently it stands for Port out, Starboard home by using the initial letter of each of the 4 words. The story goes that when wives and children of the Commissioned Officers in the British Army travelled out from or back to the UK they literally had a cabin on the outward trip from the UK on the Portside of the ship and on the Starboard side of the ship on the return journey. This was all to do with the Sun and its position in the sky at those times of year. Accordingly, they were most expensive cabins and not affordable by mere mortals. Accordingly the people in those cabins became known as the POSH people. We played lots of cards in those two day, gave away (to the scout hut cleaner) the last of our supplies and while he had no use for sardines or powdered soups he would at least be able to sell the items a very good prices. A sad part of our time in Bombay was watching the organised begging. Kids no older than 4, 5 or 6, all with bent or distorted limbs were trucked around each morning, placed at a spot on the footpath, often in the full sun. They generally had a scrap of food and a bowl of water for the whole day. At night the truck would collect them. Apparently families sold unwanted children (mainly Girls) to the gangs who made vast profits. We were told that if the gangs got them young enough they would tie limbs into the grotesque positions the child would grow up with. It was heartbreaking to see and when we discussed it with locals they would say its just part of life. Wednesday 20th January 1965 One more day to go and so we shook off the inertia of the previous 2 days; Greyhound had to be at the docks at 2.00 pm prior to loading the next day, labels made and stuck to belongings and the belongings taken to Mr Valechas office for safekeeping. Mr Valecha had organised a large hand cart and porter for conveying our goods to the Iberia tomorrow. The ship docks at 4.00am, we embark at 10.00am and she departs Bombay at 2.00pm, after barely half a day in port. We sold some of our bulky equipment which was no longer required and with the proceeds had a slap up meal. By now, 14 weeks and 2 days since leaving the UK, we have very little serviceable clothing left however, when we are able to access our on board luggage in Iberia we will all have plenty to choose from. We gave the Scout Hut a thorough clean up, bade farewell to the people wed met in Bombay and slept fitfully until the morning of 21st january - Iberia day. Thursday 21st January 1965.... We, strange to say, all woke early today, ate a little breakfast (wed be on board for lunch) assembled the small amount of gear we still had ( sleeping bags etc), said good bye to the caretaker again and proceeded to Mr Valecha’s office on foot. We crossed the playing fields towards the GPO, a magnificent example of Victorian architecture and which was silhouetted by a big red rising sun. Mr Valecha was there to greet us and we had a cuppa with him while the porter loaded our vast supply of luggage on to his cart. Finally we said farewell to Mr Valecha who has been such a great help and who has provided a tremendous amount of help to us during our time in Bombay. 9.00am arrived and we started the 1km walk to the customs and the embarkation point at the docks. We marched alongside the porter and his barrow loaded to the gills with our gear. As we went, migrant passengers from Iberia passed in the opposite direction, they gave us strange looks and as we were quite scruffy, all with bushy beards and not an ounce of meat on our bones, we must have looked odd to say the least. We broke into song I love to go a wandering - along the mountain track a German hit of the time. Passengers now clapped and cheered as we passed, it was quite emotional. The Constable on point duty stopped all traffic and saluted us, even a sacred cow stood and ambled alongside for a while. Arriving at the dock gate we all began to realise that we were about to re-embrace civilisation and yet with incredible sadness we sat, not talking while waiting our turn to go through customs and embark. Personally I felt that a part of my life had ended irrevocably and that despite our plans to keep travelling, that it may be the end of my great adventure. But as with the end of anything new things start and although didnt know then how my life was to unfold I began to get a feeling of excitement as I left the shed and stood on the dock looking at SS Iberia. After a little half hearted tom foolery (nothing to do with you Funkee) the gang plank presented itself and we climbed up, duty officer checked the ticket, gave us all somewhat disapproving look and directed us to our cabins. Brian, Pip, Ian & I shared a 4 berther while Jock was billeted with Simon, a fellow traveller and a bearded Dutch viola player. *** 21st January 1965 - On board SS Iberia Having sorted out our respective bunks we decided to do a quick reccy of the ship, pool, bars, dining rooms, cinema, sporting facilities etc and, of course some of the lovely ladies. At this stage however, most of the available talent was portside sightseeing and we had to wait for dinner to cast our eyes over the scene and make judgement SSA Iberia was a relatively small ship in the Peninsula & Orient Steam Navigation Company fleet, (What an exquisitely English name) now known as P & O Shipping. She was of 28,000 tons displacement, with stabilisers (thank god) but was in the twilight of her career running the Tilbury Perth, Adelaide, Melbourne, Sydney & Brisbane route delivering hoards of migrant Poms 4 times a year. The crew was a mixture of English (mainly officers) and Lascars from the Portuguese enclave in India, Goa. Not many years later India simply marched its troops in and gently relieved the Portugal Government of its colonial territory. Not being able to meet the lovely ladies at this stage we decided to check out the bar and Australian beer (Melbourne Bitter) but to our dismay all bars were shut (due to the Indian prohibition laws) and so we remained dry for the first few hours. Lunch time came around and fortunately we had scored 2nd Lunch (& also dinner & breakfast) which was much better for a number of reasons. Firstly the early session consisted mainly of families with babes in arms and young kids who would race around creating havoc. Secondly, our session was therefore, for families with older children and teenagers etc, much better on the eye if you see what I mean. The 3rd reason was simply that you didnt have to be out of the dining room by the start of the next session and could eat at our leisure. we were on the same deck as the dining room only 30 yards away and having a 1st class cabin, what could have been better. Our turn to eat soon came around and who were first in line? Yes! you guessed it Brian, Jock, Ian , Pip & me. We were raring to go, head steward checked us off on his list, told us we were on table 15 and so we sat eagerly awaiting this, our first meal on board. We were soon joined by 3 elderly travellers a husband and wife and an older chap on his own. We introduced ourselves but couldnt help noticing a distinct chill in the air coming from the direction of our fellow table mates. It must have something to do with us we thought. If truth be known, to be sat next to 5 of the scruffiest, bearded, (and probably smelly) skinny wretches for lunch in a fine dining atmosphere would have tried the patience of a Saint. During the meal the gentle throb of the engine became more apparent and we realised that we were moving - we were finally leaving Bombay. Nonetheless we polished off our food, lots of it, and soon repaired to the office of the Cargo officer who escorted us to the hold where we gained access to our personal belongings. We were like kids in the chocolate factory, however, I was soon dismayed and pretty p....d off to find that most of my collection of LP records in my trunk had been thieved and despite making a report to the Captain they were never found. Back up to the cabin, stow away our fine clothing etc and off to the bar where we met a motley assortment of travellers not being migrants. They were mostly young Aussies on their way home after doing Europe for the usual 6 months to a year. We got on very well with them, Kerry from Sydney, Tom from Brisbane, Richard Goldstein from London and a few more. We sat and sank a few pints of Melbourne Bitter which one could easily do at 1/3d a pint (approx 15c) however, at 5% proof and not having had a real Session since leaving England we soon succumbed and began speaking various dialects of Swahili much to the astonishment of our new found Aussie mates Now dinner on board was a far more refined affair than our previous 3 1/2 months dinners and so, with shaving equipment, soap, shampoo and haircuts etc we began to turn ourselves into fine young English gentlemen. And, so it was that at 8.00pm prompt, 5 freshly shaven lads wearing nice new shirts, pants etc and neatly bejacketed presented themselves to table 15 for dinner. The chill of lunch disappeared and our table mates actually greeted us very cordially, a far cry from our previous encounter. Soup was served, Creme of Malakoff it was and while we were supping away one of our gentlemen table mates leant across and spoke in a triumphant whisper: Youll never know it you know he said in a wavering voice at lunch today there were 5 ruffians sitting where you are now and we told the head steward that it wasnt right, you know having them sitting with us, dirty and all that It was all we could to stop from laughing out loud but we managed it but, at breakfast however, our table mates were nowhere to be seen. As we left the dining room the head steward called us over and, full of mirth, explained that they had indeed complained loud and long about us but that hed told them as they left the dining room after dinner that we were the same people theyd made the fuss over. Apparently they became quite embarrassed and requested 1st sitting for the rest of the voyage. Dinner that night was Grapefruit Juice Creme of Malakoff Boiled Salmon Cucumber and Hollandaise sauce Mousse of Chicken, Supreme Sauce Grill To Order Sirloin Streak, Onions, Mushrooms, Ketchup Cold - Boiled gammon Roast Veal Lettuce & Beetroot ansd Egg Salad Mayonnaise Dressing Garfield andCreamed Potatoes, French Beans Dessert Blackcurrent Pie, Custard Sauce, Cabinet Pudding Vanila Icecream Cheddar Edam Assorted Biscuits Ceylon & Indian Tea** Coffee** ** Also served in the public rooms How do I know all this --I still have the menu!!) After all that we again repaired to the Aussie bar as we called it, had a few. The first day on SS Iberia bound for Melbourne, Australia was over. *** It is January 22nd 1965, Day 2 on the ship SS Iberia and brother Ian has succumbed to sickness in the calmest of seas. Throughout the whole land part of the journey he was the stalwart, never sick, ate and drank everything that came his way, never faltered as we all had at some stage. Here he was tho, in his bunk (where he stayed for 2 days) , most unwell. The cause was immediately apparent to the rest of us. The night before he decided to tackle the dinner menu in its entirety, the whole shebang, from top of the menu to bottom of the menu. Yes folks he had the lot; 2 soups , 3 entrees, the 3 mains and 2 of the 3 desserts all washed down with a liberal dose of Melbn Bitter. They made a film decades later called the Grande Bouffe, but that was nothing compared to Ians effort that night. While Ian languished in the cabin, we all made for the various entertainment outlets and made ourselves know to a number of young ladies, much to the chagrin of some of the officers on board. They were to have their revenge on us a few days later. During that night we also met young Richard Goldstein who was to live with us in Caulfield, Melbourne later that year. Colombo Ceylon, beckoned on day 3 and I had hoped to catch up with Beatrice and Bo our friends from the New Year in Delhi. I was particularly looking forward to meeting Beatrice again as we had generated a bit of a spark during our days in Delhi. The boat docked in the middle of the bay and to access shore we had to take the ferry to the actual dock. Iberia only had 8 hours there so we took the first available ferry and scouted around Colombo. Like India, it was bedlam, cars, bikes, buses, trucks and people, hoards of them. They (the Ceylonese) were however, the most gentle people in the Bali style, always wanting to help, ask questions, translate for us and yes, all with a wonderful smile. We didnt see Beatrice or Bo at the dock and while the others did a bit more wandering around Colombo, I stayed in the dock precinct looking for them. Sadly, by the time we had to re-board Beatrice had not arrived and I went back to Iberia somewhat glumly. I learnt later by mail from Beatrice that they were held up in Southern India and reached Colombo the day after we left; Ah well, ships that pass in the night???? Another sad occasion was revealed the next day when we learned of the death of England’s most revered hero; Sir Winston Churchill. He had been going down hill for some years but nonetheless it was a shock and sadness became the mode for the day. A service was held in the dining room and just about everybody attended. We all joined the mourners, not as a gesture of our faith however, but solely because Winston Churchill through his leadership in WW2 had given us the freedom and ability to make our journey. Heavy swells over the next day or so sidelined many a voyager as Iberia lurched from side to side and up and down but we intrepid travellers sailed on undaunted, we had our sea legs ably assisted by our daily dose of Melbourne Bitter. At this stage and for the rest of the voyage we only managed 3 hours of sleep a day (notice i didnt say night) but always managing the breakfast call. That daily dose of bacon, fried eggs and fried bread always settled an upset tummy. It has been my remedy for hangover ever since those days on the Iberia. With my Beatrice blues now over, I became acquainted with Janine White and Brian with her sister, Sue and we became firm friends with them for the remaining days of the voyage. We were to spend Easter with them in Adelaide a few short months down the track.. The ships concert came along and we, much like in Lahore over Christmas, were called upon to sing more songs. With many misgivings we set upon rendering a collection of ditties such Cosher Bailey (had an engine) an old Rugby song, Michael (Row the boat ashore), made famous by The Highwaymen. Needless to say we didnt win a prize for our effort. It was now time for the revenge of the Officers and strangely also when I first heard the name Bali. The occasion for revenge was the crossing the line ceremony Pip had been through this bit of fun before as an apprentice seaman officer when in the service of P & O etc. As a result he missed out while the 4 remaining lads suffered the revenge of the officers. Now crossing the line is meant to be a funny humorous event but as we had pinched one of the Officers girlfriends we copped it. Stinking fish slapped on our body and then draped over our face, some foul smelling sticky liquid poured all over us, hair and all, to the hoots of laughter of all and sundry. The fish hurt and we smelt for some while after. A whispered aside from one of the officers as he passed by later that night went something like this got you B..t..ds that time, didnt we. Without going into details, the tables were turned some time later. The reference to Bali came from the Entertainment Officer when he told us that due some bad weather in the Indian Ocean the ship was going to pass close by an Indonesian Island called Bali. Didnt give a second thought until I started this project. Little did I know what that would mean to me many years later. Despite our lack of sleep, we excelled in the sporting activities on board, won prizes in the fancy dress evening and generally joined in most events that were organised. We were pretty much the only non migrants on the boat and were bemused, soon after leaving Colombo to see queues of people in the dining room after breakfast. Thinking wed miss out on something good we each joined a queue but soon found out that the men sitting at the desk at the head of the queue were employees of the 8 main banks in Australia. So we had reps from NAB, CBC(now NAB) CBof S (Now Westpac) , Eng Scot & Aus Bank (ANZ) , BNSW, CBA, Bank of Adelaide, They flew into Colombo and met every migrant ship in Colombo and sailed down to their home state signing up new bank customers. For every customer signed up they gave 3D (Threepence) in a savings account. OMG!! A job to die for, an all expenses 8- 10 day cruise, only 4 - 6 hours work a day, nights to yourself and a bevy of beauties on each voyage to contend with. We got to know a lad from Perth and he said he didnt care if he stayed in that role for the rest of his working life. After 6 days of sailing we started to glimpse the WA shore line and were close enough sometimes to see the beautiful white sands. After a solid night at the bar the day before we docked in Fremantle, a number of us (inc. many returning Aussies) went on deck just before sunrise and sat on deck chairs as slowly the light filtered through, the day got brighter, some of the Aussies had tears in their eyes for they were nearly home. I am not sure how long I was there as I became mesmerised by the extent of the beaches on the WA coast; it seemed like hours had passed before we turned inland suddenly found that we had finally arrived in Australia - It was 30/1/1965. 2 more days on the Iberia and we docked at Outer harbour, Adelaide, farewelled the White sisters, Janine & Sue, tried to get a drink at a hotel and were asked for proof of age my god I was 23 going on 24 - strange place this!!! 1 more night and we sailed through there heads into Port Phillip Bay, it was 103oF and bloody hot. Halfway through the bay and the wind turned, clouds gathered and in 10 minutes it was only 61oF - strange place this!!!. Well wed made it but little did we know then that in just over a year wed all be married and that 40 years later wed all, bar Jock, still be living in Melbourne. Incidentally Jock Fremantle married a Kiwi and settled down in NZ and its only in the lst month that we have had any contact with him but later this year he will be in Melbn for a reunion. I saw a film of him last week when he , and 2 others launched a luxury road racer in NZ called the Hulme Supercar It got a lot of TV and press cover there and I believe it will be brought to Melbourne later to show it - Cost NZ$500,000 + and will do 200 MPH. I married in April 1966, Benny & I had 3 daughters, moved to Adelaide for 14 years and then was transferred back to Melbourne in 1980 where I continue to live in Vermont an eastern suburb. Although I returned to the UK in 1986 for 6 weeks (my first return after 22 years) Benny and I didnt make it to UK together until 1991 and then again in 1993 and it was as a direct result of that 2nd trip that we made our first journey to Bali. On the return journey Qantas put us in Business class from London to Singapore, where we had a couple of nights stop over. Then it was back to Aus but in the economy section for that leg of the trip. When our FF Flyer statement came there were no points for the Business class leg. On request, I sent our boarding passes in and, lo & behold we got business class points which gave us a grand total of 42,000 points each instead of 24,000. This meant we had enough points for a trip to Bali. So it was by coincidence and the good grace of Qantas that our continuing love affair with Bali and the Balinese commenced. And so ends The Road To Bali Clive Matthews 1/04/05
Posted on: Sun, 11 Jan 2015 12:07:44 +0000
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