Hickox (DD 673) - Naval Cruise Book

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BORDEAUX, FRANCE 1 A 1 tin ' ' ' ' | ' l ' ' l l B j j Advertising a dance — a la francais. St. Emilion. Where a miracle restored the sight of a little girl — a refuge for persecuted Catholics of another age. What the Hot Dog stand is to Americans. Dear Mom, France was great. Visited the art museum, saw a ballet, and spent most of my time sight seeing . . .

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CHATHAM, ENGLAND Another day — another country, Chatham, England, called Hell ' s Corner during World War II . . . Silent testimony — the rows of stilted fortresses guarding the harbor. Only thirty miles from London, we found we could commute from the ship to that metropolis and renew our experiences. Norman Wisdom, the British comedian, was at the Palladium and Can-Can was in town. We were in Chatham for Guy Faulk ' s Day and saw the traditional burning at the stake of this gentleman who is supposed to have tried at one time to blow up the House of Parliament. As far as the eye could see there were fire works displays, also in keeping with this holiday. We found out that the name Wren did not necessarily refer to a bird but also meant a female member of the British Navy. So, being partial to that species, we invited a group of them aboard and showed them around the ship. Those of us who were guides enjoyed the work but felt we should have gotten some ice cream, too. Probably what we ' ll remember the most about Chatham is the visit the Mayor of Rochester paid us. Like a page from history he came aboard in full regalia symbolic of his title. Preceded by his mace bearer, in three cor- nered hat and leggings, and followed by his secretary in powdered wig and cloak, he transported us for a moment to the England of another century. It was very impressive. There wasn ' t a camera aboard that did not take this picture. We wanted to remember it for a long time. WL. 1 39 i BC» i ; - ' 5l mfk ' Warn

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The wines age, and with it, the people BORDEAUX, FRANCE This, indeed, was the wine capital of Europe — La maison du vin de Bordeaux. Wherever we went we couldn ' t help but be impressed by the city ' s chief industry nor could we refuse to accept it ' s chief product. We visited the Medoc region and saw how the little grape evolved through many processes to the cork restricted nectar that we know. We saw dark wine cellars, where thousands of bottles of wine aged. We saw great grape presses. We saw the whole sequence. We often heard the waiter say, Voulei vous du vin blanc ou du vin rouge? and though we spoke no French we knew what he meant. It wasn ' t Paris, but we could still sit out on the sidewalk cafe and watch the passing parade. We could still walk down to the Flea Market. on Sunday morning where we could buy anything from a beret to a jacknife with a monkey- wrench in it. St. Andrews Catholic Cathedral was being fixed and there were scaffolds all over it but it still impressed us with its height and magnitude. We spent a day at St. Emilion where we got a good idea of rural France with its narrow, cobblestoned streets and vast grape vineyards. When we left Bordeaux, each of us that had imbibed at all were sure that we were connoisures of wine of rare vintage — and to be honest with you — that was everybody. The Opera House