Travel
A. Letter from the Riviera
[To the Editor of the SPECTATOR.]
Sin,—The French Riviera is passing through one of the most difficult times it has ever been called upon to suffer. The cause, of course, is the general economic crisis which has blanketed every country in Europe, and the United States as well. From Marseilles to Menton one encounters everywhere half-empty hotels, deserted tennis-courts, idle croupiers, and villas to let. And yet the weather has been glorious.
The regular attendants are here, though in sadly depleted numbers, and it is on these Neros that the Cote d'Azure is having to depend for its bread and butter, and very poor scrape are they finding it.
Yet they are plucky, are these Frenchmen of the South, and they are struggling hard and ingeniously to make the best of a decidedly bad job.
The prices of the first-class hotels have come down with a rattle, with the result that visitors of modest means are now availing themselves gratefully of hitherto undreamed of luxuries. They fill the palm-courts and lounges ; they dance cheerfully through the night to excellent music ; they make quick and ready use of all the gratuitous services that luxury hotels extend to their guests. Alas, though, for the unfortu- nate proprietors, they display great acumen in utilizing only those services which will not eventually figure on the week's account. The vintages lie scarcely troubled in the cellars, and the staff see many francs but rarely a louis. How these Southerners can smile and chatter cheerfully through the days is a mystery ; yet they do, and one can but realize that blue skies and golden sun, soft breezes and sweet flowers make stronger men of all of us, and life doesn't seem so far awry, after all.
The authorities are the backbone of the Riviera, and always will be. In these time of acute distress they encourage and counsel, cajole and stimulate the vendor of luxury. They keep his heart in his work—if he has any just now. They chase away his doldrums; they reassure his doubting mind. "Look," they say, quoting undeniable figures, "Last year we had so and so many English, so and so many Americans, so many Germans, so many Belgians, so many Dutch, so many Spanish. This year—study the statistics !—but a half the number of each of these nations. Is it because the English have deserted the Riviera? Is it that the Americans no longer like us? Have the Germans gone elsewhere ? A thousand times, no ! These countries are passing through a crisis. They must stay at home against their wills. They have no money. They are worse off than you. They will come again. Be good and reasonable to those that are here. Make such an impression that they take back home with them a memory of the courtesy of the French people. It is your business to do that. Cut your prices, double your endeavours to please each and every visitor. Get back to the rock upon which you all originally founded your fortunes in the South—good cheap apartments, and inexpensive table d'hôte meals with wine included at a fixed price. Let them drink of the sun, and drink of our good every-day wines ; allow them to amuse themselves as inex- pensively as they will. Then they cannot but agree that France is still the kindest, most reasonable, most attractive, and most free of all the countries in the world to live in."
That is not a one-man exhortation ; it is the repeated message of the Riviera authorities along the entire coast to its commercial populace. As an insider to what are prac- tically private affairs, I have heard and read it weekly, even daily. It displays a magnificent spirit, and a knowledge of commercial propaganda which I doubt if one finds anywhere outside France. It has had the sure effect of stiffening up the morale of a very badly hit and sensitive industry. Natural resentment has given place to a sympathetic understanding of the visitor's embarrassment, and the -Riviera hotel and shop-keeper is still an amiable fellow, the more so since the authorities have, so to speak, affixed a badge of merit to the debit side of his pass-book. It is, indeed, a great and profitable thing to understand human nature !
There is serious talking and planning by the French in these days of profitless shipping, to arrange Riviera cruising holidays from London and Hamburg at all-in, inclusive rates which will bring the South of France under the most ideal conditions within the reach of all English and German folk of modest means. The prices discussed are bewildering in their modesty, and if this scheme really gets under way—and it is an obviously practicable one—the move from the North to the South will be tremendous. A sea-cruise, a visit to the Mediterranean, a roving railway ticket, the entry to reliable hotels and the free entry to casinos and amusements, with a bi-weekly service all through the summer, would offer an attraction which would be hard to resist by families who have three weeks or a month's vacation each year, and wish to see much and disburse little. -
It might easily prove a little gold mine for an English shipping company—prepared to embark on entirely new lines of cruising trips and prices—since they would have the better chance with regard to publicity and the attraction of British holiday-makers. They might at least think about it carefully, and, of course, before it is too late.—I am, Sir, &e., A RIVIERA CORRESPONDENT.
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