{"id":834,"date":"2018-03-25T22:03:30","date_gmt":"2018-03-26T02:03:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/?p=834"},"modified":"2018-03-26T00:10:33","modified_gmt":"2018-03-26T04:10:33","slug":"twisted-somehow-the-trip-got-out-of-control-eng-and-europe-1965","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/?p=834","title":{"rendered":"TWISTED: SOMEHOW THE TRIP GOT OUT OF CONTROL (ENG.AND EUROPE 1965)"},"content":{"rendered":"
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1960\u2019s:  These were different times.  Less up tight years  for Eric, Marjorie snd me\u2026we  were young and  life was pretty good.<\/div>\n
If the bottom story seems abominable to you then there is nothing I can say to change your mind.  We live in different times today.<\/div>\n
Far more fearful times.  Less tolerant of  idiot behaviour.  More judgmental\u2026up tight.   Our story below was  just part of  our<\/div>\n
life journey.  The serious, academic, compassionate, well behaved facet of our personalities may not be as evident as some<\/div>\n
readers may like.    Give us a little space to be silly.  Takes  some space yourselves.<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
alan<\/div>\n

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TWISTED:  OUT OF  CONTROL IN EUROPE  1965<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
alan skeoch<\/div>\n
march  2018<\/div>\n

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I blame my brother Eric for our shameful performance as Canadian visitors to western Europe  back  in 1965.  His  fault.  He set the tone<\/div>\n
for the trip when he organized a stag celebrating my marriage to Marjorie Hughes.  She was the ultimate \u2018nice person\u2019 everyone said.  Some<\/div>\n
friends even cautioned her that she could  have made a better choice as a marriage partner.  Looking back, I  have to agree.  Marriage to<\/div>\n
the North Bay judge\u2019s  son might have been  wiser.   But women  have a  twisted streak and  often look for the man whose behaviour they<\/div>\n
can twist into shape.   If that was  her plan, it did not work out too well as this photo essay  proves. <\/div>\n

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So Eric  invited  a bunch of our friends to the SKEOCH MONASTERY just before our wedding , August 24,1963\u2026somewhere around that date.<\/div>\n
We had  a good time, \u2018 Windows’ Bill Doyle set a fine example.  Eric nicknamed  him Windows because he was  the first friend to get glasses.<\/div>\n
 Windows promised  his mother he would  never touch alcohol until he turned 21.<\/div>\n
As fate would have it the stag date was his 21st birthday.  We missed him for much of the stag and found  him semi  impaled in a  large <\/div>\n
forsythia hedge at the farm.  He was making up for lost time.  The stag was  great fun\u2026all our friends together.  Nothing sordid.<\/div>\n

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A year or so later, when  Eric  and  I were employed as history teachers at Parkdale Collegiate , I got a great idea for the summer of 1965.<\/div>\n

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\u201cEric, how would you like to join Marjorie snd me on a trip to Europe?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cThree of us?  Are you joking?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cWe could save money\u2026three travel cheaper than two.\u201d  I got that ides from that goddamn book \u201cEurope on Five Dollar a  Day\u201d\u2026turned  out<\/div>\n
to bre wrong.<\/div>\n
\u201cSuppose I could.  Are you sure I won\u2019t be in the way, if you know what i men?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cNah!  Marjorie likes you\u2026enjoys your company.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cHave you asked her?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cNot yet, but I will.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cLet\u2019s do  it\u201d<\/div>\n

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So we flew to Europe with a skimpy budget.  And did we ever have a time.<\/div>\n

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We  started off in some cheap B and B places.  Charming as you can see above.  Eric had  a separate room.<\/div>\n
Marjorie did  not sleep with her suitcase\u2026she made room for me.  I  love this picture.<\/div>\n
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We looked for inexpensive places\u2026like this one\u2026note the wall paper.  <\/div>\n

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I was  a little nonplussed when hosts  assumed Marjorie and Eric were husband  and wife and I  was just a hanger on.<\/div>\n
Perhaps that was because  he carried her bag often.  That gave me  an idea.<\/div>\n

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\u201cIt would  be a hell of a lot cheaper if we all stayed in the same room.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cWhat does Marjorie think of that.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cNo problem.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cHave you asked her?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cWell\u2026..\u201d<\/div>\n
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So we did.  Eric was unwilling to split the costs 50 50 though.<\/div>\n

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Beds on night trains were not the best<\/div>\n

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\u201cIf we use the European trains,  we can sleep in rooms on the night trains\u2026they hold six people\u2026really cheap.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cHow do they get six beds into a room?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cStack them up\u2026three bunks high\u2026a little tight\u2026but cheap.”<\/div>\n

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Read the sign.  I know some of you cannot read\u2026as I expect som you are only looking at my pictures.  The sign<\/div>\n
says \u201cDanger\u2026Keep Children Under Control\u201d.     We had entered  the slippery slide back  to childhood\u2026.
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Marjorie became less amused as our money began to run out.  She only complained once\u2026the day we had no meals for the whole day.  She even called  her guardian, Phyllis Morgan,<\/div>\n
saying:  \u201cWe are down to one meal  a day\u2026and that meal is usually Bread, cheese and a couple of bottles of Bulmer\u2019s Hard Cider.<\/div>\n
I am losing weight but having s good time.\u201d  She may have said  other things.<\/div>\n

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We rented a  small car\u2026really small\u2026and visited Lower Wooton Farm \u2026 relatives or bonded friends from our grandparents past.   Nancy  Griffiths  killed a<\/div>\n
couple of chickens which  Marjorie plucked and we all ate.  Predators.   In previous stories  I mentioned events here.  A cow was having a breached birth<\/div>\n
Cyril called us to action stations.<\/div>\n

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\u201cBoys,  need  you in the barn now\u2026trouble.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cI will reach in the cow and  tie this  rope to the calf\u2019s feet,\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cWhat is wrong?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cBreached birth\u2026twisted\u2026just pull when  she contracts\u2026firm but gently\u2026work with her\u2026don\u2019t try to be heroic.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cNow! Pull.\u201d<\/div>\n
And the calf flew out with all the afterbirth and landed on Eric who was  wearing view one and  only suit.  Yuck!<\/div>\n

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\u201cIt could  have been worse Eric.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cHow?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cIt could have landed on me.!!”<\/div>\n

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In 1965 we seemed  to have relatives everywhere\u2026and we stayed with them. This is<\/div>\n
Una Dunne who later became a Roman Catholic Nun.  I am not sure but I think we<\/div>\n
helped her decision making.<\/div>\n

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Things started to get really twisted.  Our diet started to cause gastric problems.  One incident comes to mind.<\/div>\n
We were standing in line to buy s post card  to send back to Mom.  Eric handed me the card and left<\/div>\n
the store with Marjorie.  He left something of himself behind.  An  odour.  A \u2018futz\u2019 as they say in German.<\/div>\n
The ladies behind me said \u201cOh, someone has passed  by\u201d and held their noses.  And looked at me. Eric and Marjorie were hooting<\/div>\n
with laughter outside while I was assumed to be the carrier of  Night Soil in the lineup.  Not funny?  Right.<\/div>\n

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Eric took off to Spain for a few days.  He was chased by some young girls on the train who called  him \u2018Blondie\u2026Blondie\u2019  in an effort <\/div>\n
to corral him.   Female toreadors looking for a Ferdinand.   (Children\u2019s story\u2026read it)  I  think they failed.   But we were on the downhill slide now for sure.<\/div>\n

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Above is a picture of  Marjorie in the vast Hofbrau Beer hall in Munich.   That is a quart she is  drinking\u2026not a puny British pint\u2026bigger…a German quart. (litre)<\/div>\n
Take a look at her drinking buddies.  The cream of German beer hall society  Marjorie became a star here.  Really did.<\/div>\n

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\u201cAlan, look at that poor msn.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t look over there Marjorie\u2026those guys want\u2026\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cAlan, look at him.  The front guy.  He has passed out.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cSo what?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cHis cigarette is burning down to his fingers\u2026he will burn himself.  I am going to help him.\u201d<\/div>\n

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And she did.  Took the cigarette and stubbed it in the ashtray.  Was Marjorie ever a hit.  Other Germans came over and sat with us.  Bought us<\/div>\n
another round  of beer.   The barmaids by the way could  carry six or eight steins of beer at once.  They washed the used ones with a quick dunk <\/div>\n
in laundry tup   We did not care.  Then a really weird thing hopped.   Something grabbed my pant leg from under the huge table.. Another  msn emerged  \u2026he was pretty drunk as well.<\/div>\n
It became quite a party in which Marjorie was no longer just another tourist.  She was compassionate\u2026warm hearted\u2026a cigarette stubbed.<\/div>\n
Those of you who only  drink in sophisticated society right be horrified.  Us?  Not a bit.<\/div>\n

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Eric was  still in Spain.  When Marjorie and I left the Hofbrau  house we left with our steins\u2026someone paid for them.  Germans from another table\u2026sober<\/div>\n
Germans\u2026saw Marjorie prevent the flesh burn of the fellow in the picture.  They loved her.  We all sang loud  and  long.  Then we left.  <\/div>\n

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\u201cWhere will we sleep, Alan?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cRight here in this park\u2026nice green grass\u2026good for s nap.\u201d<\/div>\n

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We flopped down and  slept.  Some time later s police officer poked me.  He pointed to dome sign\u2026something saying \u2018Verboten\u201d.   Marjorie was<\/div>\n
still sleeping holding her stein firmly.   The cop said  something about vagrancy but he wasn\u2019t really mad.  We got up and headed back<\/div>\n
to our B snd B.<\/div>\n

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Eventually we met up with Eric. To this day he does not remember the \u201cBlondie Blondie\u201d sirens on that Spanish train.<\/div>\n

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Back in London things got really interesting.<\/div>\n

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The next stage in our decline into insanity was due to Eric noticing a loose board in a<\/div>\n
fence at  the Portobello Road  antique (and junk) market.<\/div>\n

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\u201cSome one behind the fence, Alan\u2026odd?\u201d<\/div>\n
The board flipped up.<\/div>\n
\u201cYou lads need  new hats.  How about these?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cDerbies!\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cVery British\u2026you can sashay across  London Bridge with all the toffs with these \u2026\u201d<\/div>\n
And he held out two beautiful derbies<\/div>\n
\u201cHow much?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cFive quid.\u201d<\/div>\n
:\u201dSold.\u201d<\/div>\n

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So we were now part of the British establishment<\/div>\n
Marjorie left us for a  while and  visited her aunt and friends from North Bay who happened to be in London.  They stuffed her with food.  Eric and<\/div>\n
I tested  our hats in a local pub \u2026 Plowman\u2019s plates of mish mash food and  a pint  of bitter.  Good  stuff.  And we searched for a cheap  B and  B.  <\/div>\n
Marjorie joined  us  refreshed. <\/div>\n

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\u201cWhere did you get those derbies?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cNever mind.  Look at mine\u2026got Harold MacMillan\u2019s initials inside\u2026think he\u2019s the Prime Minister of something\u2026must<\/div>\n
have lost his hat.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t steal them I hope\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cNope, bought them from an antique dealer\u2026\u201d (the less  said the better about that)<\/div>\n
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Things  kept sliding from bad to worse as our trip wound down.  I can only find one<\/div>\n
picture to prove our decline but it is a good one.  We flew home from Dublin, Ireland with a <\/div>\n
short stay in Iceland to refuel.<\/div>\n

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Refuel?   We did  not need  any refuelling ourselves.  While  waiting for the flight we joined a Roman Catholic priest and<\/div>\n
his father\u2026real father.  The priest was  a pioneer.  Means he did  not drink.  His father on the other hand enjoyed a pint<\/div>\n
of Guiness now snd then.  Well we had  too much Guiness by the time our plane was ready.  We put on quite a show.<\/div>\n
Good natured but twisted.<\/div>\n

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Proof?  No better proof than this picture.<\/div>\n

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Guess who took the picture?  Not me this time.  For some TWISTED  reason while we were airborne on the way to Iceland, the<\/div>\n
stewardess got the caption to come back  and se the three of us.  Nice guy.  I took a picture of him and have it somewhere but <\/div>\n
he took my camera and snapped this priceless shot.   He even put on my derby.  Little wonder we got so much station on that flight.  Today they might<\/div>\n
even turn around and put us in he slammer.  We were in fine shape.  Notice the derby is back on my head.  And notice Marjorie.  She was  a huge hit.<\/div>\n

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I may look drunk but I sobered up fast. The real reason the pilot came back to our seat was not just a jolly bit of  friendship.   There must have been a<\/div>\n
reason\u2026a concern.   He took one look at us  and relaxed.   Just young  Canadians with a little too much Guiness in them.   Marjorie decided  that the whipped cream<\/div>\n
on her cabin dessert could  be good  finger paint and she proceeded  to write her name on my face.  Something she thought was hilarious.   <\/div>\n

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\u201cHere, Alan, let me paint your face.\u201d<\/div>\n
Alarm bell rang in my head<\/div>\n
\u201dSober up, Alan.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cHow is Eric doing\u2026seems qjuiet.”<\/div>\n
 Eric was vomitting into the little bag provided by all airplanes.  <\/div>\n

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\u201cAlan,  call the stewardess.\u201d, Eric said<\/div>\n
She arrived  with a grin.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cHere take this  away\u2026\u201d<\/div>\n

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And Eric  handed her his pillow and put the vomit filled bag behind his head.  <\/div>\n

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The trip was  coming to an end but there was one more moment I will never forget.<\/div>\n

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We landed  in Iceland for a couple of hours.  Eric was still sick.  Still vomiting or getting ready to vomit as <\/div>\n
we all sat in the holding room.   A nice young girl came across the room,<\/div>\n

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\u201cAre you Mr. Skeoch?\u201d  she asked.<\/div>\n
\u201cYes\u2026\u201d he slurred.<\/div>\n
\u201cYou were my practice teacher at Humberside last April.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cReally?”<\/div>\n
Eric tried  to hide  the vomit bag.  <\/div>\n

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Eric and  I returned as history and  English teachers at Parkdale Collegiate.  Marjorie  had a teaching job<\/div>\n
st Emery Junior High School.  ” Hurrumph!  Fine  examples of teachers!.\u201d you say sarcastically.   We were, I believe,<\/div>\n
closer to the  wave lengths of our students.   They never heard our stories  but had we told this story back<\/div>\n
then I believe we not have been reviled as  outcasts.   I have often  wondered what that little girl reported about meeting Eric in<\/div>\n
Iceland.  <\/div>\n

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When I began to write this story that song intruded again and again.  What song, you say?<\/div>\n

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Those were the days my friend<\/span>
We thought they’d never end<\/span>
We’d sing and dance forever and a day<\/span>
We’d live the life we choose<\/span>
We’d fight and never lose<\/span>
For we were young and sure to have our way.<\/span>
La la la la…<\/span>

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Those days re gone.   Well, not really gone.  I think about them now and  again.  I see Marjorie seductively<\/div>\n
wrapped  in that bed sheet and  Eric with his derby\u2026not  those days are not gone.<\/div>\n

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We’d smile at one another and we’d say<\/div>\n
Those were the days my friend
We thought they’d never end
We’d sing and dance forever and a day
We’d live the life we choose<\/div>\n


Alan Skeoch<\/font><\/span><\/div>\n

March  2018<\/font><\/span><\/div>\n

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1960\u2019s:  These were different times.  Less up tight years  for Eric, Marjorie snd me\u2026we  were young and  life was pretty good. If the bottom story seems abominable to you then there is nothing I can say to change your mind.  We live in different times today. Far more fearful times.  Less tolerant of  idiot behaviour. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-834","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/834","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=834"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/834\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=834"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=834"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=834"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}