The Bea Blog consists of diaries and letters written by my grandmother Bea Cohen Rubin (1899-1985) and other members of her family. For more information about Bea and how this blog came about, see Blog Archive under 2013/June/Part I -- Intro and 1913.
In the summer of 1956, Ande Rubin (Bea’s daughter and my mother) once again travels to Europe by herself. She is 30 and single. (See Part XIII for Ande’s letter from Paris in 1953).
Ande 1948
Ande 1958
From Rome, where she stays in the Hotel Excelsior, she writes about the nightlife:
Then of course to Doney’s on the Via Veneto, where one sits and watches the whole Roman world go by – everyone tonight from Rome to Hollywood –
Charles Boyer, Jack Benny, Linda Christian and E. Purdom (what a pair!), Stewart Granger …
Moving on to Madrid, where she stays in the Palace Hotel, she writes about a sightseeing adventure:
As I was about to go in [to the Palais Royale], two huge busloads of United States Naval officers drove up, a path was cleared for them, everyone else was held back while they were assigned a special guide, and about to go through in a solitary phalanx of uniforms. At that point, a darling ensign who could Spanish spotted me behind the ropes and apparently told the guard in his best high school Spanish that I belonged with them. The Spanish guard looked very skeptical, gesticulated madly but finally gave in and let me through – at which point I had suddenly joined the Navy (well over 50 of them)! I can't tell you how funny it was. Anyway, all 51 of us were taken through the entire Palais and you have no idea what a peculiar feeling it is to see 50 pairs of eyes focused on one’s ankles (and mine yet!) while the guide is pointing out the magnificent Teniers Tapestries. They (from the USS Albany, now in Valencia) apparently hadn’t seen a girl in months and any “American Pequeña” would do. My Spanish-speaking rescuer – Ken Doyle of California (all of 20 I imagine) – asked me out this evening so I will meet him at 12:30 and perhaps see some Madrid nightlife.
Ande 1948
Ande 1958
From Rome, where she stays in the Hotel Excelsior, she writes about the nightlife:
Then of course to Doney’s on the Via Veneto, where one sits and watches the whole Roman world go by – everyone tonight from Rome to Hollywood –
Charles Boyer, Jack Benny, Linda Christian and E. Purdom (what a pair!), Stewart Granger …
Moving on to Madrid, where she stays in the Palace Hotel, she writes about a sightseeing adventure:
As I was about to go in [to the Palais Royale], two huge busloads of United States Naval officers drove up, a path was cleared for them, everyone else was held back while they were assigned a special guide, and about to go through in a solitary phalanx of uniforms. At that point, a darling ensign who could Spanish spotted me behind the ropes and apparently told the guard in his best high school Spanish that I belonged with them. The Spanish guard looked very skeptical, gesticulated madly but finally gave in and let me through – at which point I had suddenly joined the Navy (well over 50 of them)! I can't tell you how funny it was. Anyway, all 51 of us were taken through the entire Palais and you have no idea what a peculiar feeling it is to see 50 pairs of eyes focused on one’s ankles (and mine yet!) while the guide is pointing out the magnificent Teniers Tapestries. They (from the USS Albany, now in Valencia) apparently hadn’t seen a girl in months and any “American Pequeña” would do. My Spanish-speaking rescuer – Ken Doyle of California (all of 20 I imagine) – asked me out this evening so I will meet him at 12:30 and perhaps see some Madrid nightlife.
And the next day she writes:
Practically landed in a Spanish jail last night – and not for making speeches! My nice young Navy man, one of those sweet clean-cut American boys – with freckles and a kewpie-doll face, wanted to see me safely (really!) to my door around 4 am – well, no sooner had we walked into the hotel elevator, than 3 Palace bellhops surrounded him, shouting “Prohibido! Prohibido!” and began to drag him ignominiously through the lobby into the street. He kept protesting “Why? Why?” all the way, which made it even funnier – and the entire night staff of the hotel (this is a big hotel – 800 rooms) went into gales of knowing laughter. Meanwhile, I stood innocently in the elevator with my mouth open, mumbling “But in America …”! Anyway this was my famous farewell scene with the Navy.
