Phil Chesterman was on the inaugural trip to Paris. In 1955, the team travelled to Paris via Newhaven - Dieppe... In the days of Eurostar, it seems impossible to imagine the abject suffering that these boys went through just to get their lips around a nice French ass. Oh sorry, I misread - a nice French glass!
Anyway, Phil continues with his adventure - read on about a life lived with passion and large odd shaped balls...
"In 1955, we travelled via Newhaven-Dieppe. Lots of bullsh*t has been reported already, but my two best/worst memories are:
- Going to Le Moulin Rouge with Daniel Yeuillaz,
ordering two drinks, finding out they were 18/- each, standing up, and spilling
them both. The "house" replaced them with no qualms (from their barrel of
"Scotch") at no charge.
- Returning to the UK from Gare St-Lazare with a
very thick head, with "romance" not on my mind, and finding myself in a
compartment with Frank Johnson, and a very tarty French broad. I knew that Frank
would have given his eye teeth to get near to her, but I decided she was "mine".
However, on the "sickboat" out of Dieppe, Jeannette Saurel had to go below. I
rescued her from one of her compatriotes, who looked like k.d.lang, but
worse. The end result is that I took her home to South Kenton for the night.
Mother did not approve (she was at least 5 years older than my tender just 20
years of age, and still in the RAF; Bob Buckland signed my pass, calling himself
an Air Vice-Marshall. I had forgotten to get one but had a pocketfull of
blanks).. Anyway, Jeannette told me later that no one told her where the lav
was. I thinked she peed in the bathtub during the night. Dad was impressed, "I
heard you in the night you little bugger" (wink-wink) . Truthfully I was
still too hungover to perform any acts of love.
In 1960 I was married to Connie and she appears in
the picture above. We ended up for "lunch" at Du-Batiment's president's
place, and we had enough to drink that I am surprised that our very healthy
daughter, Anne-Marie, who was in mummy's-tummy at the time, survived. Terry
Clare was there as a witness. (so much for the USA's Surgeon-General's warnings
on wine labels).
The 1956 trip was the most and least memorable. It
was supposed to be in February; the whole of Europe was gripped in a freeze so
it was postponed to March or April. Lucky me, I was working in Grimsby at the
time (as Grim-as-can-be) and couldn't have participated. Bob Buckland couldn't
wait so went to Paris anyway for the weekend and came back to remark that "even
the ladies-of-the-night" stayed indoors.
So, we were supposed to take a bus (in March/April)
to Lymne, fly Skyways to Abbeville and bus-it to Paris. But FOG destined us to
the Folkestone-Calais ferry and the trouble started. The ferry was slow and the
booze was fast-coming. (We did manage to fly back from Abbeville and should have
all taken a leaf out of Alan Browne's book and consumed at least a bottle of
wine each before boarding. The DC3 rattled and roared...must have been part of
the Normandy landings).
However, we got to Calais, and Jack Shepherd was
barely able to get on the train. The sober-group to which I belonged found a
second class compartment with the window seats occupied by two dark-haired
girls, obviously French. They didn't speak until the passport-boys wandered by.
In the meantime the "sober-group" had turned into animals, found the booze-cart
man on the train, told jokes and sang the Old Gaytonians' "National Anthem", the
Lobster Song(*), and a few others.
When it came time to show passports the "French"
girls passed theirs' from hand to hand to the officials. My God! They were
British...
1) Lady Daphne Cadogan (daughter of the Duke of
Bedford?)
2) "The Honourable" (something-or-other) but I
believe Lascelles
They were a lot of fun after that. Somehow,
someone had contacted the Du Batiment club and they were at Le Gare du Nord to
await Jack Shepherd and the boyz. Bad mistake! Let Jack RIP. The rest of that
weekend is still fog to me."
Anyway, Phil continues with his adventure - read on about a life lived with passion and large odd shaped balls...
Splendid start, Phil. I knew I could rely on you for in-depth memorabilia.
Although I remember wearing our hats in that garden where you and Connie were pictured, the hat is too small to have been mine, and by the shape of it (slightly square cut, like Churchill's "coachman's" hat,) it may well have been from Bob Buckland. Bob wore that hat, whilst wearing a revolting lime green shirt, all through the 1960 tour, and possibly even slept in it.
On the Sunday, before my faux pas lunch, he joined Ken Smith and me, for a conducted tour of Sunday morning Paris, in a Citroen "Traction avant" Light 15, as used by Maigret & his gendarmes. As we were driven round, by an increasingly apprehensive veteran of the Tour de France, his face turned to almost the colour of his shirt. Our sporting chauffeur slowed down as Bob's colour changed, and then Bob uttered a short sharp request, using his best command of French;
"Stoppez vous!"
Le chauffeur stoppez-ed as vite as he could, and the bowler hatted Bob rolled sideways, so that his head was almost in the gutter, whilst relieving himself of his breakfast. The equally relieved ex cycling king, drove on as if nothing untoward had happened, whilst Ken and I marvelled at the magic of communication in Franglais, and the adhesive power of that bowler hat.
Posted by: Alastair | 06 September 2007 at 23:36
Great Picture!
Phil, I'm sure that's how you'd like to be remembered.
And Connie is - soo Connie!
p
Posted by: Paul Williams | 06 September 2007 at 23:37
For our younger readers, 18/- is - or was equivalent to 90p in today's dosh.
90p in today's dosh is probably the equivalent of thruppence three farthing back in '55...
Posted by: Martin | 07 September 2007 at 00:09
OK, whose bowler hat did I borrow or steal? I notice an "Interdit" sign in the background. I believe this was a very warm night for Paris in February, about 22º or so, and some of the OGRFC decided to splash in the fountains of Pigalle around midnight, much to the amusement of les flics who normally had better stuff to deal with in that area.
The lady on the left is Connie who has put up with an OG for 45+ years.
Posted by: Phil Chesterman | 13 September 2007 at 07:32