For the people of Northern Wales we came to have the highest respect and even regard. They were universally kind and courteous and their solicitude for the stranger within their gates seemed to be more than a mere desire to get his money. There is no place in the Kingdom where one may find good accommodations cheaper, barring a half dozen notable resorts in the height of the season. Added to this, the beauty of the country and its romantic and historic interest make a combination of attractions that would long detain one whose time permitted.
The foregoing observations about the Welsh are applicable in a greater or less degree to many sections of England and to most of rural Scotland, save that in the latter country hotel expenses will average higher.
A word on hotels generally may not come amiss from one whose experience has dealt with several hundreds of them of all classes and degrees, from the country inn to the pretentious resort hotel. It was our practice to seek out the best in every case, since we hardly enjoyed hotel life even under the most favorable conditions; but it was largely saved from monotony by the traditions which have gathered about almost every ancient inn in the Kingdom. One would miss much if he did not visit the old inns such as the Feathers in Ludlow, the Lygon Arms in Broadway, the Great White Horse in Ipswich, the King’s Head in Coventry—but I could fill pages with names alone; I would as soon think of missing a historic castle or a cathedral as some of the inns. It is this sentiment that has led me to give the rather extended individual mention accorded in some cases.
As a whole, the British hotels are comfortable and well conducted. Outside of London one will find the menus rather restricted and usually quite heavy and substantial from an American point of view. Special dishes are not easily obtained in the country inns and request for them is not at all enthusiastically received. Eggs and bacon—with the latter very nearly answering the specification of ham in America—with fish, usually sole or plaice, and tea or rather bad coffee, is the standard breakfast. Fruit cannot usually be had even in season without prearrangement the evening before, and then only at exorbitant prices. Strawberries, for instance—there are none finer than the English in season—may be selling for sixpence a quart, but you will pay half a crown extra for a lesser quantity served with your breakfast. An assortment of cold meats, usually displayed on the sideboard, forms the basis for luncheon and the very wise native will go to the sideboard and select his own portions. There will sometimes be a hot dish of meat; cabbage and potatoes are the standard vegetables, the latter cooked without seasoning and generally poor. A lettuce salad and cheese, with stewed fruit or a tart, as they style a pastry something similar to an American pie, will complete the meal—at least for one who does not care for liquid refreshments, which may be had in great variety. Dinner in the smaller inns is usually served on the table d’hote plan. A very poor soup, a bit of stale fish—inexcusable in a country surrounded by the sea; an entree, usually a highly seasoned hotch-potch, or chicken and bacon—often a vile combination—followed by some heavy, indigestible “sweet,” made the standard evening meal. We finally rebelled against this and had many a lively tilt with the manageress in our efforts to get a plain meal of eggs, tea, bread and butter and perhaps a chop. In some of the resort hotels our demands caused positive consternation and in more than one case had to be taken up with the proprietor himself. The difficulty was chiefly due to the disarrangement of the regime; the table d’hote meal was ready, though often stale and cold, and one waiter by following the fixed routine could serve a dozen people, while our simple wants usually disarranged the whole program, both in kitchen and dining room. It was rare indeed that a mutton chop could be had in the hotel; some one must be sent to the meat shop for it, and any such departure from the fixed order of things jarred the nerves of the whole establishment. It is only fair to state, however, that at some of the fine inns I have especially mentioned there were notable exceptions to these generalizations.
The rooms in the country hotel do not average very comfortable; the furniture is scant; they are poorly lighted—if not with candles, a single dim electric bulb or gas light serves the purpose; feather beds, with the odors that these give out in a damp climate, were not uncommon, though flat rebellion against them would often bring out the fact that there were others in the house. Bathing facilities were usually poor, a dirty bathroom or two serving the entire house. Not in a single case did we find running water in the rooms. But with all its drawbacks, the British provincial hotel will probably average as good as may be found in any country, and in motoring one has the option of going on to the next town if conditions seem too bad to be endured. Rates—to tourists—in the better class hotels are not low; yet I would not call them exorbitant as a rule. Two shillings for breakfast, three for luncheon and four to six for dinner may be given as the average, while the charge for rooms can hardly be generalized. Five or six dollars per day per person should cover the hotel expense, including tips.
And, speaking of tips, these aggregate no inconsiderable item; a smaller individual amount will give satisfaction than in America, but the number of beneficiaries is so much greater that the total cost is more. Every servant who does anything for you or who ought to do anything, must have a fee—porter, boots, chambermaid, waiter, head waiter, stable man, garage attendant, the man who cleans your car or brings you oil or petrol; in fact, everyone in the hotel except the proprietor or manageress expects from sixpence to half a crown for the day, as the case may be, and it does not pay to withhold it. One subjected to such exactions cannot but view with great concern the increase of the practice of tipping in America; should it ever become so prevalent here at the much higher rate that the American servant requires, traveling would be prohibitive except for millionaires.
FRANCE AND GERMANY
Outline map showing Author’s route on Continent.