1968: LA BELLE FRANCE! — 1967-1968: Diary of a Posh Schoolgirl

Monday, 22 July

Ma fetched us from school and we went to Polesden Lacey. It was closed. Instead, the gardener took us down the herbaceous borders, and he and Ma quoted every flower in sight…!

Chump and me went for tennis coaching. Tony’s had his hair shorn off and it’s revolting. But he’s very lively, and told me I’d become much less jerky.

Daddy’s tooth-ache is over - marvellous. He went to the Alexanders’ dentist, five minutes from the office. I can’t think why we’ve put up with Mr Shepherd for so long! This dentist has more modern equipment than Shepherd and, more important, he cares.

Roast beef and Yorkshire puddings for supper!

Tuesday, 23 July

Ma took Chump to school, and later, Simone and me to the station. Finally got to Tower Hill. Saw the busby men do their ridiculous stamping bit, then went straight to the jewels. Huge, huge queue - but not half as long as it was later.

Inside they had the medals and the Orders of the British Empire (enough to make you vomit) and the robes of the Orders of the British Empire (seldom seen anything so ugly). The jewels were kept behind a safe-door one foot thick - ugly gold plate, and hideous crowns and rings. Fantastic huge diamonds in huge abundance - I wish the horrid things would get stolen. It was raining when we got out. Went to the White Tower where you climb a circular staircase with armour rooms off it. One lovely German sword engraved in tiny writing of the zodiac. Incredible they took such trouble over their swords! Queued 20 minutes for the Bloody Tower. Nothing there but Raleigh’s Room.

Went on to Piccadilly Circus in the rain - no Swiss Centre! So looked in a phone directory and discovered it’s in Leicester Square. About 3 we finally arrived. It was worth it, of course. Went to the British Museum but only had time to see Sutton Hoo: the richest treasure found in England. The jewellery could have been made yesterday - not exaggerating.

Later we all went round to the Bensteds for a standing-up supper. The atmosphere was spoilt when Xavier and Pascal arrived. Then off to ‘The Charge of the Light Brigade’. David Hemmings was the only decent officer - the others were pompous asses. Vanessa Redgrave was sweet. Lots of battle scenes and the final charge so bloody I could hardly bear to look. One very good scene was when they nearly died of heat and kept falling off their horses - all you heard was the buzzing of the flies. It wasn’t a bit Hollywoody.

I hope Xavier didn’t see my glasses.

Wedesday, 23 July

Anya told me today John Lennon has got divorced. I said, “their poor children” and Sandra said, “I wouldn’t pity them if I were you. He’s an absolute twit.” I couldn’t exactly say to Sandra, “don’t you see, John Lennon’s an artist and you’re not.”

Anya keeps breaking into French and gets on marvellously with Simone! The three of us went down to town, to the Wimpy Bar with 20 French girls. Found the place full when we got there, and Alison and Maralyn smoking. Hate girls who smoke. In the corner was the most adorable chap who Anya couldn't keep her eyes off. Decided he must be French: he wore a French pull with shoulder buttons, looked rather triste and didn’t stop smoking. We all had a Wimpy and chips, and a single coke to share! Then chocolate nut sundaes and (because we felt like hogging) two doughnuts between us. All of it cost 16/6. Whenever I’m with Anya I enjoy myself.

Anya told me Flea’s Nest has had a baby!!! That’s why she was away all last year!!! She met the boy when she was an ice-cream seller at the Rembrandt, I can hardly believe it. And she’s such a hideous little thing.

2020: Hard to imagine what this 16-year-old schoolgirl went through that year. I cringe when I read my unkind lines.

The Pill had been introduced in 1961, for married women. Until 1967, even for some time after, it was aimed at married women who’d had children, and was not widely prescribed for singles; in the era of ‘free love’, the government did not want to be seen promoting it. Backstreet abortion was rife, and what schoolgirl had access to a diaphragm? Contraception was the preserve of the boys.

Washed hair with egg shampoo, then Ma whizzed us over for tennis coaching with Tony. Did volleying. He said Chump’s dangerous: she fires shots that practically wind you! Then I realised Xavier, Pascal and John B were watching us. X gave me an unusually long look, and smiled. Fortunately I was playing quite well.

At dinner Chump was complaining about the bags under her eyes and Pa tactfully called her an old bag! It was hilarious but Chump wasn’t amused. Gorgeous dinner of fried fishy things, a salad of spring onions and redcurrant pie. Simone and me went along to the Bensteds, to thank Mrs B for yesterday. Peter was in pink trousers which were nearly falling down! He is a WIT. John said Pascal is livening up finally, two days before he leaves.

France tomorrow. Mummy was in one of her flappy moods.

Thursday, 25 July

Wore hair loose first time for ages, the fringe pinned behind my ears. Wish it had been like this when X was here. Pa was late, and Ma was flapping all morning as she couldn’t fit the luggage in the car.

Our boat was the ‘Dover’, the one we had before. There were some good boys on it. A long-haired scruffyish Ted-type one; a French good-looking one; and a boy called Charles with two deb sisters. He had longish fair hair and wore nice cords. He gave me a beautiful look when we got ashore.

Simone’s mother, brothers and sister all came to meet her. Mrs P is very jolly and very nice and the sister sweet, but the brothers ‘pas mon type’ at all. Chump and me spoke French when they’d gone - fantastic!

I stood alone in the corridor when the train left. The scenery made me feel very romantic. I know it’s utterly warped and wrong but I can’t help the thought - I ought to be in a film.

Friday, 26 July

Didn’t get much sleep on the train, but woke to hot, bright, beautiful sunshine! France is wonderful! Arrived at Narbonne, changed into bermudas, and wore my glasses under my sunglasses so I could see the countryside. Streams of traffic outside Perpignan, then the countryside got more Spanish: dry and bleak, with lots of rocky outcrops.

Stopped at Collioure for lunch outside. Honestly, what is it about French boys? They’ve got something the English haven’t! Panache and sun-tans maybe. Three beatnik types were sitting opposite with lovely necklaces and long hair.

The drive to Foix was rather agonising. It was so baking hot - poor Chump was sick. Got to Foix. The one-star hotel Pa looked up in Michelin turned out (thank God!) to be fine - Hostellerie Barbacane. I put mascara on my lower and upper lashes, and we went for a stroll to the chateau. Bought some toothbrushes (we all forgot them), then had dinner on the terrace. Such good food: creamy potato soup, entrecôte with béarnaise sauce, and a biscuity ice-cream thing with hot chocolate sauce. We discussed poor Peggy. It was Bobby who drove her to suicide, running around with other women.

Such nice waiters: a hilarious head one, a fat one with a moustache, and a sweet young one, quite a snazz. The funniest bit was at the end. The head waiter came along with this skin thing, out of which he squirted wine. Calling me Mademoiselle Mini Jupe he told me, in French, to open my mouth (it had to be just the right shape) and shot this huge jet of wine down my throat!!! I thought it was going to be water so I burst out choking when I realised. He did it to everyone and we were chortling with laughter.

Saturday, 27 July

I don’t like that waiter with the moustache. He said good morning to us in a rather slimy way and his eyes rested some time on our skirts.

We hosed the car down, then went to Foix Castle, but Ma stayed and sketched. Silly of her - it was absolutely fantastic. First we went up to the tower, to a gorgeous sort of place on the battlements where the ladies probably took their morning stroll, and then a wonderful room with window-seats looking over the town. There was a little room off it - probably the loo! Went downstairs and there was the guide. He took us up the prison tower where there was a little door in the main door for the food to be pushed through. A Huguenot prisoner had written ‘IL FAUT MOURIR’. So terribly touching, carved there into the stone. It was one of the saddest things I’d ever seen.

Drove to the Niaux Grotte. It was shut. Pa furious of course, but it was rather stupid not to look it up in the Michelin. Then set off and bought lunch in a gorgeous village, all the buildings crumbling away and the inhabitants pretty ancient. I suppose the young ones all leave. Sweet old lady served us - her accent! It’s obvious we’re English from our short skirts and Scholl sandals. Drove on to Auch - lovely old town. Five miles from Condom we stopped at a swimming pool. The worst thing was the lav - just a hole in the ground. I got wet, but didn’t swim because of my hair.

Arrived at the mill around 7. Atmosphere rather tense as we approached; Ma was obviously worried about it being ok. Poor Ma! Anyway, it’s a really beautiful building and the inside isn’t bad at all. Mrs Bradley was not the educated sort of person I expected, but very nice. Chump and me are sleeping in the beds in the dining room; the cupboard doors make a dividing wall and it’s terribly sweet. Stone walls and red curtains. There’s a large field-type garden with a canal-type pond and a rather adorable donkey called Tina.

But though everything is lovely, everything is wrong. We’re cut off from everywhere and the village is five miles away. I got that miserable sort of drained feeling, mostly I think ‘cos of Pa. He wasn’t exactly raving.

We decided to go out for supper in Moncrabeau, to ‘Au Phare’. Rather a hilarious meal. Extremely simple furnishings, lights kept going on and off, TV blaring away in the background, but a terribly sweet waitress. The hor d’oeuvres went fine, but the main meal!!! Pure chaos. Ma and Pa had their veal. They finished it. Our steak arrived - raw, but delicious. Asked for our frites, they came - cold. By this time we were bent double. Asked for legumes - found out the pommes frites were the legumes! Didn’t dare ask for a pudding.

Sunday, 28 July

We went shopping in Condom. On the way, Daddy came out with it. Twelve days here with nothing but sun-bathing to do. I see his point of view, but I think it’s rather illogical to complain when we’ve only just arrived. I can think of at least five day trips we can do, and riding. I felt utterly miserish.

But by lunch-time we were all ok. The sun had come out and it was absolutely blazing. We asked the couple next door over for drinks. The girl is awfully nice and I thought about 27 - I was surprised to hear their children were 15 and six! Then we heard thunder in the distance, louder and louder and flashing all over the place. It was almost like the beginning of a murder story! We all sat under the huge sun umbrella but ended up making a dash for the house. And then the electricity went off.

Hope we go to the chateau tomorrow - apparently there are three “charming” boys there. One is 18.