26th May 1984. Off to Greece from London, by bus.

Saturday 26^th May 1984  Well, I suppose I ought to do one for this trip. To Greece, I mean, a diary. During the previous week, since Tuesday, I had been staying at the Colonial Club’s clubhouse in Willesden Green with I don’t know how many others (Kiwis and Aussies). This was all right by me as I only had to pay £12 for the four nights I was there instead of about £10 per night at the hotel. During the day I occupied myself by wandering around the streets of London. There was much queuing at the Tower of London so I didn’t go in there; I went over the Tower Bridge instead. They’re repainting the suspenders and the railings on the northern approach to the bridge.

   I also paid the full £65 return fare for Athens and bought a sleeping bag for £35; sent Riikka’s money (£72) to her through the Post Office; rang up Catherine Pritchard; and went to a madame’s place.

    Madame Tussaud’s. Bob Hawke looks dreadful. Both Ian Botham and Tom Baker have terrible teeth. Lenin looks healthier (and younger) than he does in his own mausoleum. Elton John is the only talking wax-work in the world (a film loop of him talking is projected onto his face). Dame Edna Everage is resplendent in her sequined Aussie Flag/Opera House gown. But I’m not particularly impressed with the way they show age (wrinkles) in old men’s faces – vis-à-vis Sir Francis Chichester. Henry VIII’s VI wives all look very Roman Catholic.

   I also had a quick look in at the Victoria and Albert Museum (I didn’t know it was so big. I had thought it was just a small toy museum.) after I had been to the Yugoslavian Embassy to get my visa.

   And of course a visit to the National Gallery, being most interested in the Impressionists, of course. Also, downstairs, they have all the other paintings that aren’t on exhibit upstairs. They aren’t in any particular order and are hung in every available space (close together). It’s very gratifying to see the originals of paintings seen mostly as reproductions on prints or in books.

   The Post Office Tower is temporarily closed to visitors for the moment, which is a pity because Wednesday was quite a nice day, even though it was actually Thursday at the time. It started raining again on Friday arvo.

   There are a lot of German and French school children in London at this time.

   Well, I spent the day of Saturday until 2 o’clock in the house not doing much, then I caught the Tube to King’s Cross/St Pancras and left the pack there while I went walking in the rain to buy some food. At an appropriate time I went back to the station, collected the pack and sheltered with others in a bus depot thing on Midway Road. We got on the bus, twenty-one of us with our Scandinavian courier and left early because we were all there. We made our way through London to Dover in the rain. After a wait – not a very long wait but a wait all the same – we eventually embarked upon the “Private Enterprise VII” [or was it the "Free Enterprise VII"?] of the Townsend Thoreson Line which turned out to have fewer seats inside than passengers, most of whom seemed to be Brits on their way to Austria for a week (Bank Holiday on Monday).

    Although we were amongst the first on board, I didn’t reserve a seat, but I found it better to sit outside anyway because of the atmosphere inside. But not all the time, though, as it does tend to get chilly-to-the-bones after a while. I started The Adventures of Mr Verdant Green, an Oxford Undergraduate, a book I had bought in London for 75p.

   We waved goodbye to the White Cliffs of Dick, low clouds and into the glooming darkness. During the crossing to Zeebrucke/Zeebrugge I changed £12 into 42 Dr.(drachma) - an education at the Phlippot School of Magic does wonders – and watched the best ever Warner Brothers Looney Toon cartoon – Daffy Duck at the mercy of his animator (Bugs Bunny). [Duck Amuck, 1953] That’s all, folks!