MANNEY ON/IN EUROPE

“TO R&T READERS OF A CERTAIN AGE,” I wrote awhile back (October 7, 2022), “Henry N. Manney III was Yr. Fthful Srvt covering Formula One back before the sport sought money in odd places like Azerbaijan, Bahrain, and Sochi.” Or, for that matter, on Drive to Survive. And, as I noted, Henry was a helluva fine writer.

So…. Here I am skimming through old R&Ts and I come upon March 1961’s “I Want 3000 Words by Monday, the Editor Said, On What to do in Europe.” Manney noted, “… And it was already Wednesday.”

Little did Henry realize at the time—nor I idling away with old magazines—that he’d eventually compose not one, not two, … but four articles on this subject, for R&T March through June 1961. And each is replete with Manney insights just waiting to be gleaned.

Henry N. Manney III, 1922–1988, American automotive journalist extraordinaire. Image by Graham Gauld.

On Guidebooks. “In Europe,” Henry said, “the ‘Guide Bleu’ and/or Baedecker can be saved for those who wish a really close look at the country.”

I never asked Henry what he thought of R&T Art Director Bill Motta and me getting around Modena using my 1913 Baedeker’s Northern Italy.

Image from Baedeker’s Northern Italy, 1913. 

“The various Guides put out by the Michelin tire people are absolutely essential…,” Henry advised. “I wouldn’t stir without mine.” Yes, me too.

On Getting There. Henry recollected, “I took a steam packet once across the great heaving Atlantic and shan’t do it again unless I have simply scads of baggage. However, if you are a good sailor and don’t mind plastic cuisine, millions of kids, running the gamut of open palms at the end, or only plan to drink your way across (the nurse on our Dutch liner prescribed gin for seasickness), do take a ship.”

Getting Wheels. “The snips in the back of Motor Sport look very enticing, it is true,” admitted Henry, “and if you have time to spare there might be some advantage in looking for something special, like a bumblebee Frazer-Nash or 30/98 Vauxhall. However, most of the stuff has been used very hard indeed, and the English dealers have had many more years’ practice concealing the bad points of dubious machinery than even our bandits at home.”

A Perspective on Dealings. “You may divine from some of my comments the feeling that you are going to get cheated from time to time. Sure you are. Money comes hard over here….”

What to See. “Some visitors,” Henry wrote, “have come to see antiquities of various sorts; here in Paris or in that vast drafty barn of a cathedral in Reims, rather chipped around the edges from the war years, one can celebrate Mass elbow to elbow with ghosts attending the consecration of Charles VII in the presence of Joan of Arc in 1429, which makes the California Missions seem like pretty small potatoes.” 

Making “Friends.” “Strong young men,” Henry continued, “or sometimes older ones optimistic about their condition, make tracks for the fleshpots of Paris, Brussels, London or Hamburg, where those who are going to make out will do so without any advice from me. Certain outdoor types… haunt the teeming secretary-spread beaches of the Riviera where one will see more bare skin in five minutes, thanks to France’s national costume, the Bikini, than in a whole evening at Joe’s strip joint. Still more fundamental ones seek out the Ile du Levant near Toulon or North Germany’s Island of Sylt, where everybody runs around starkers. They say you get used to it.” 

Later, Henry went to Ile du Levant with R&T helping to preserve his modesty.

Henry, at right, was on assignment for “The Incompleat Guide to the Ile du Levant,” R&T March 1964. Illustration by Brockbank. 

Smoke’em If You Got ’Em. “If you are enamored of American cigarettes,” Henry suggests, “do pack them, but you will get much more of the flavor of the country if you fumez the local stuff. Plus another type of lung cancer. I personally prefer Gauloise, a black French mix that gives off sparks and makes you talk like Piaf.”

Yes, I recall Gauloises from pre-’84 (my Acute MI year). Drawing on one, you could watch the hot tip rapidly approaching your lips. 

Paris Traffic. Henry wrote, “And for those who like the cut-and-thrust of production car racing, Paris traffic will supply complete satisfaction without the formality of numbers and entry fees. Apparent absolute chaos reigns in the absence of the forest of traffic lights and signs that strangle modern cities and enrich the magistrates; in practice, Jean-Claude coming from the right or Pierre in front have the right of way and the rest can whistle. Phenomenal avoidances by the dozen are common, as some brave soul calmly barges out of side street into the traffic stream. From the right, of course.”

English Race Crowds. Henry observed, “Nothing else is like the English race crowd, where bizarre long-haired young men [remember, it’s 1961] in duffers and wonderful turned-up hats (called curly-brimmed trilbies) occasionally neglect the cars to speak with their young ladies.”

“These,” Henry recounted, “are of two varieties: fresh-faced and horsey, and the languid societagh. But BOY! are there some beauts! And going home in open Lotus Sevens, too.”

I like these young ladies already. And I sure enjoy Henry’s way with words. ds 

© Dennis Simanaitis, SimanaitisSays.com, 2024