Scope and Content
"Although I did not expect to be back here yet, it has happened because the HORNBERG, instead of returning to Antwerp from whence we sailed in December, came up the Thames to Dagenham (famous for those dreadful girl pipers whom I cannot abide!) with an enormous cargo of paper from Florida: so we (the English passengers) left the ship there. And now I am sitting in my Castle again, with the snow coming down outside, and wishing I was back in the Caribbean! However, the snow is melting as it falls, unlike (according to the midday news) places farther up North. However, I shall not be here for long, as I go over to my cousins at Argentan in Normandy after Easter. Ever since I started going there in the spring every year, I look forward to it more than anything. Not only is it beautiful, unspoilt country, but my cousins there are so delightful, their home so spacious and welcoming, with a Pleyel grand piano, and masses of books everywhere ... I am always very happy there. So I have no idea how long I shall stay. However, I have promised the Staverts that I will go to Hoscote for the month of August, and my relations in Yorkshire that I will call in and visit them on the way in July. And I also have a pressing invitation to visit the Bishop of Warrington, in Liverpool. He was one of my brother curates in SJDK.
I expect you received my postcard from Trinidad, which as the most attractive place we called at this time. I had to cut down severely on postcards, since all the places we went to (apart from Trinidad) were out of the sterling area, and I had to use my travel allowance not only for expenses (drinks, smokes and tips) on the ship, but also when I went ashore. We called at Curacao, where I had been before, in the Dutch East Indies; many ports in Venezuela and Columbia: then over to Porto Limon, in Costa Rica, which is exactly like the brochure pictures of the Caribbean ... palms, coral reefs, blue sea. I had a delightful experience there ... the Second Engineer and myself went up to the capital, San Jose ... a 4 hour journey by train (there is no road) through most amazing scenery. The city is very Spanish ... one might be in Madrid. We went to the Opera (Turandot), where the audience was as interesting as the stage. Everybody dressed to the nines, women sparkling with jewels, many in combs and mantillas, and all with fans, which lent a gentle breeze during the performance. Covent Garden nowadays presents a very drab sight by comparison. We had to stay the night, of course, and return next day. Sailing across the Caribbean was also delightful ... one spend all day under an awning on deck, and at night sitting under the stars until one simply had to go to bed. I took several paperbacks of the novels of Henry James, who is considered perhaps the foremost novelist of America. He actually became a British citizen, and died at Rye in 1916: but his novels are placed in the 19th.century, or early 20th. If you get a chance of reading THE BOSTONIANS, I recommend it heartily. He is what one would call a very civilised writer ... everybody behaves well, everybody observes standards of conduct. So refreshing after modern violence, sex and horror!
As usual, I made great friends with the Captain, an intelligent and charming man of 57. He was in the German Army in the War. It was most interesting to hear him talk about it, about Hitler, what ought to have been done and wasn't, what was done and shouldn't have been. As he had a great sense of humour, he was chaffable. We had some long and enjoyable conversations over the coffee and brandy. I hope he will come here one day, if I am here when he puts into Dagenham again.
There have been two deaths in the Castle this winter: a Miss Hills, who lived upstairs, and old Professor Dehn who lived next to me when he was in England, but he spent a lot of time abroad, and died in Switzerland. So there are two empty flats for sale. However, no one is likely to buy them until we get this cliff business settled. But things are going ahead. There is a meeting at Easter to consider estimates for the work, and we hope to start in early summer. It will be a big business. The terrace will be taken up half way, and there will be enormous machines on the beach pushing the new supports into the cliff. But we long to get it over and done with.
I wonder how you and your family have fared during the winter, and who has died in Ampthill (someone must have!). I shall be interested to have your news.
Yours sincerely,"