Four Plays

So after a long nine months of working (mostly) seven days a week at just over minimum wage, after taxes and sharing grocery costs with my parents (plus bringing home some of the best grapefruit Indian River County had to offer) I ended up with two thousand dollars in the bank. In 1975 that was a pretty good chunk of change. What could I do with all that money? Buy a car? HELL NO!


It was Robert Morley who gave me the answer. "Take the London Show Tour. You'll fly British Airways round trip to London, stay five nights in a hotel, we'll include tickets to four plays, give you discounts at dozens of shops..." He had me at the plays. I went to the travel agency in downtown Vero Beach the next day after seeing the commercial. I believe the whole package cost me seven hundred or so. I got my plane tickets, my hotel voucher, my voucher for transportation from Heathrow Airport to Victoria Air Terminal and my voucher for the rest of my stuff to be picked up from a place on Knightsbridge Street. Cool.


I took a Greyhound bus to Miami and a cab to the airport, arriving two hours early- very early indeed in 1975. I got first pick of seats on the Boeing 747. It turned out that the plane was half full (or was it half empty?) and I had three seats to myself on the looooong flight to London. I listened to nearly the whole entertainment package on the headphones, including some Peter Cook and Dudley Moore routines that I had memorized by the time I got back to Miami a week later- but I'm getting ahead of myself.


Heathrow had three terminals. The bus to Victoria Air Terminal in downtown London left from one of them, but I couldn't seem to get a clear answer from anyone as to where I needed to go. I rode the shuttle around some, then got on a bus to London. "This one goes to the West London Air Terminal," the driver told me, "but Victoria's just a few stops away on the underground." Great. I get to figure out the underground first crack out of the box with luggage and US money. But I was tired of slogging from terminal to terminal, so I said okay.

London was a pretty cool city, I thought as we trundled through it. Steeling myself for the next leg of the adventure, I pulled out my hotel voucher. "The London Penta Hotel" it said. I put it in my shirt pocket where it would be handy. Soon we arrived at the terminal. I grabbed my suitcase and my carry-on bag and headed for the door. There was a tube station just down the block, I was told, and banks were nearby as well. Good. I walked outside, and there was a huge building taking up most of the view: The London Penta Hotel. Right across the street.

It was just after 1:00pm when I went to the desk. Check in time was after 3. They let me stow my suitcase behind the counter, and I went out for my first walk in a foreign country. True to what I was told, there were several banks nearby. I changed a couple hundred bucks into less than a hundred pounds and continued my walk, confident I could find my way back. If worse came to worst, I would buy a map. In about fifteen minutes I stepped onto Knightsbridge Street. Wow, how did that happen? I turned right instead of left. In another ten minutes I was at the London Show Tour place, picking up my theatre tickets, tour guidebook and discount coupon book. That was too easy!

I checked out my tickets. The first show was tonight! Oh crap! I found my way back using the crappy maps in the guidebook. I bought dinner to go from the Kentucky Fried Chicken by the hotel, checked in, took a shower and changed into my theatre duds- clean jeans. BTW, in 1975 I was one of the very few people in London wearing jeans, and the only one at the theatre. I went into the underground station and bought a fare to get me to Picadilly Circus. The theatre was on Shaftesbury Avenue. The show was "A Touch Of Spring" starring Hayley Mills. It was great.

Sunday I explored the city. I went back to Piccadilly Circus station and got my tourist kit, with a map of the transit system, a lot of information about where things were and how to get there, a ticket for a "Round London Bus Tour" and a five day transit pass. When I came up to street level with my camera, my tourist kit and my jeans, I was immediately pounced upon by a guy who would take photographs of me and mail them to me for only five pounds. What the heck? The oddest part about it was that about six weeks later, the black and white photos actually came in the mail.

Since I had arrived in town, I had been seeing posters all over the city advertising "Monty Python and the Holy Grail- Makes Ben Hur Look Like An Epic!" I found a movie theater showing it and enjoyed it first run on the big screen. Smoking was allowed- there were ashtrays in the arms of the seats. I used mine.

Sunday night I saw "The Sunshine Boys" starring Jimmy Jewel and Alfred Marks. It was the first performance of "The Sunshine Boys" I ever saw. It was great as well.

Monday would have been Memorial Day in the States. Here it was the May Bank Holiday For Remembrance of Those Who Died In War- or something like that. I left the hotel early enough to see the Changing of the Guard before I went for my Round London Bus Tour. Actually, though, there's no set time for the Changing. I saw the relieved Guard leaving. Oh well. I got on the next tour out and saw all of the major sights of London go by the windows. The highlight: the Osmond Brothers were in town, and their hotel was mobbed by prepubescent fans.

I had no play that night. I watched "The Longest Day" on TV back in my room.


Tuesday was shopping. I looked for a walking stick for Fred. I bought earrings for Liz, a pipe for Jack, a T-shirt for Sharyn, a belt for Don. I didn't find anything I wanted to buy in Harrod's. Tuesday night was "The Tempest" starring Paul Scofield. Wow wow wow was that good. The scenery was spare but very effective. The storm was frightening. I think I got the theatre bug from that show.


Wednesday I took the advice of a sneering salesman in a shop that sold men's accessories. His walking sticks were over 100 pounds. I was taken aback! "You need to go to (sneer) Portabello Road." I did, and found a nice stick for about seven pounds. He was right. On the way there, I passed the Zoo, so on the way back I stopped in. There in the Foreign Birds section were two carracarras, which happened to be the bird my dad was trying to paint back in Florida, and he was having a hard time finding good research pictures of them. I didn't have my camera, but looking at my map, I saw that there was a bus directly from the Zoo to the London Penta. I sped home, grabbed the camera and sped back. One of the birds was sitting on the ground with its feet sticking out in front of it. Carracarras do that. The other was walking from one end to the other of a stick hanging from chains, forcing the bird to spread wing feathers and tail feathers to maintain its bacance. I took a whole roll of pictures. They helped my dad a lot.

Thursday was a blah day. I was ready to go home and decide where to go from here. I walked barefoot in Hyde Park, though. I tracked down a theater showing "Young Frankenstein" and saw that. And Thursday night I was late for my last play, "Absurd Person Singular" starring Paul Eddington (Yes Minister, Good Neighbors.)

Friday, as I was packing to go home and listening to Capital Radio, I heard an interview with Don McLean. He had enjoyed his concert at Royal Albert Hall Wednesday night so much, he was doing a free concert in Hyde Park that afternoon. Damn! I didn't know a thing about him being in town. I missed it. My plane would leave about the time Don would be starting in Hyde Park. Damn!

On that sour note, my second Great Adventure reached the end of its interesting life. The only other thing I remember is sharing a cab back to the bus station, paying my share, and not having enough US dollars for a tip. So I tipped him a shilling, and he was delighted. I was glad to be almost home.