Chapter 28 - ITALIAN BUYING TRIP
Must have been around 1970.
TEO was going full swing and my father had made excellent contacts with an Italian suits firm by the name of ABITAL. Most ready-made suits at the time lacked a proper fit, let alone any flair. Trust the Italians to come up with superb tailoring as well as an extensive range of designs and colours. At the time my great friend Toby was working for Cohen's Camera Centre in the Main Street Arcade. Obvious interest in fashion clothing and our close friendship made me invite him to join us at TEO as a Manager. He had to give notice and was due some leave which he wanted to spend in London. I had to go to Milan to learn more about ABITAL and place the order for the next season.
At that time, I had ordered a FIAT 124 Coupe sold to me by Joe Benrimoj from Overseas Motors.
David Benaim, the owner of Overseas Motors organised that I could pick up my car in Nice rather than have it delivered to Gibraltar. So it was not just a holiday with a good friend but also now motoring with a fabulous new car through France, Italy, Switzerland, Spain ....and then a ferry trip to Tangiers and back to Gib in the old Mons Calpe. The frontier with Spain was still locked tight and that was the only way back home.
I picked Toby up at Nice Airport. We
decided to visit Monte Carlo on the way...... except that we only realised we
had been to Monte Carlo as we left it! No Frontier Post, no
Customs, no Police .... nada de nada!
Just a sign in French thanking us for
having visited on to Monte Carlo.
The drive was fabulous.
Toby and I took turns driving so we made excellent time. The car itself was a
dream to handle and since we were in the running-in process (does this still
happen with new cars nowadays?) we had to control our foot on the accelerator
to reasonable 120kph.
We arrived in Milan at around 6 a.m.
We were in no hurry since we had stopped along the way, and GPS not having been invented yet, arriving at that time, early morning, the Milan traffic was still sleepy. The Hotel Ambaciatorri was pretty good but all we wanted was to sleep before taking the car to FIAT Milan for its first service.
Around 12 midday, after excellent
Italian late breakfast, we stepped outside and got into to the car.
Have any of you ever driven in Italy?
They are CRAZY!
It is not just the speed at which they
drove in the middle of the city, it was the impatience at traffic lights, the
zooming between lanes, the hand signals which eloquently included what drivers
thought of other drivers .....
Total Madness!
Not even with Valium inside me was it a good idea to drive on the roads of Milan! I offered Toby the wheel. His look was enough for me to see his unspoken reply:
"Que te crees que estoy loco?"
So, creeping forward in the car, I approached a taxi rank and explained if a driver would take us to the FIAT Workshop ….we’d drive behind him and he was to go “..piano, piano, per favore!”
He led the way..... as slowly as he could.... and we followed him, nose to tail till we reached the FIAT place. I sweetened him up telling him we wanted to be driven back to the Ambaciatorri, and then the following day take us back to collect my car and guide us out of Milan.
Another taxi driver there asked him:“Che cosa succede?” (What’s up?) ...
to which he replied succinctly: “Turisti ignoranti!” ... no need to translate that huh?
I think every car driver in Milan was there behind us, in front of us, on our left, on our right .... blaring their horns, expressing their frustration at our slow progress, with an assortment of hand signals all easily understood...... and all of which equally vehemently replied to by our taxi driver.
Milan is a beautiful city .... the Duomo is magnificent, the arcades are architectural gems ... the shops are exquisite. The elegance of the ordinary men in the street (let alone the young women, so attractive with even the simplest clothes!) made us both realise why Italy is the world leader in fashion. Our ABITAL sales director, a diminutive and excitable guy called Paolo Arvat, picked us
up from the hotel and took us to the sumptuous showroom in the outskirts.
As I remember Paolo, he resembled an ersatz 70s version of Rudolfo Valentino but with a glint in his eye and a constant cigarette in his mouth even as he spoke to us in broken English. He had an uncanny ability of driving like a madman, holding a constant conversation with us, the steering wheel, smoking a cigarette and a constant roving eye for every woman we passed ....all without missing a beat!
We worked hard that day.
Although I had several years of menswear under my belt, I learnt so much at the ABITAL the Showroom and factory! Obviously this was a learning curve for Toby and though I have never admitted it to him it was even that to me too.
At the end of the day Paolo dropped us back at the hotel, work done - holiday still ahead.
We wanted to sample not just authentic Italian food, but possibly "Italian company" too.
"Excuse me ..." Toby asked the receptionist "where is there a nice place to go to ... maybe meet some girls ....?"
"Ahh si si ... ragazze ... si .. si.."
He beckoned us to follow him and he walked out on to street ...
"Tutti bella ragazze!" ....
Indeed there were several ... "bella ragazze" ... and all eyeing us, Yanito fresh meat, and proceeded to try and attract us by several signs, actions, lifting of skirt and shaking of boobs ... all with a smile ..their price... and, it has to be said ... even with Italian elegance ... yes, even they!
Through lack of courage, or money or whatever, we decided to give the Ladies of the Night a miss. Instead we went to a restaurant and drowned our regrets with pasta and Chianti!
Never ones to be deterred, I had with me a very snazzy cine camera big enough to look almost professional. Toby hit in the idea of my filming him as a documentary while walking through the beautiful arcades opposite Il Duomo .... Sounded like a plan!
Toby played the young presenter, me the cameraman ...and as we filmed (we did not, really, but I cannot think why not!) with him explaining in total Yanito about the arcade ...and not missing a single cafe table where any young lady was having an ice cream or a coffee!
Toby could never be accused of being shy, as the many young ladies he kissed hello and goodbye all that afternoon, acting it out worthy of an Oscar!
In the morning our driver picked us up. We collected the Fiat and drove with trepidation out of beautiful Milan.
"Since we are here, David," Toby said, as he drove north, "do you mind if we go to Switzerland a minute?"
"Switzerland?"
"Yes, .... remember Pauline?"
How could I forget her? I had double dated with Toby and Pauline when she and her friend worked in Gibraltar. What was incredibly memorable about her was that she had one eye of different colour to the other. I am sure Toby found other memorable qualities to her, enough to want to drive all the way to say.."Hello" ... How could I say “No”? That's what friends are for.
Discretion wipes away much of the Swiss memories I thought I still had.
And then we started a leisurely drive back to Gibraltar. We stopped on the motorway at one of these petrol stations cum restaurants. There we were approached by a middle aged man who explained that he had run out of money in his trip to Switzerland. He wanted to sell some jewellery he had bought for his wife as he needed the money to continue his journey back to Paris. I was not really interested but Toby had plans to get engaged to his soon-to-be-official girlfriend in Gibraltar and saw the opportunity of buying some excellent pieces of jewellery at equally excellent prices. A lady’s gold Omega watch, matching bracelet, necklace and earrings. I cannot remember the price he paid but it was well under market value, well under!
I could have kicked myself!
Why hadn't I taken advantage of this bargain too? As he gloated his luck, showing me again and again the beautiful pieces, I resolved not to miss any opportunity that came my way ..... and come my way it did. Just about 50 km further on at another similar stop, a second man approached us and explained that he too needed to sell jewellery he had bought because he had run out of cash. This time I was not going to miss out. I bought from him a beautiful Omega gold watch for myself as well as a gold identity bracelet, all, like Toby's, duly hall-marked, in the original presentation boxes and with the watch guarantees etc.
Now we were even.
Or were we????
As the Fiat ate up the kilometres in a smooth drive, 8 track stereo playing Santana, the Beatles, Chicago and Jose Feliciano, it occurred to us
"What if these were stolen goods?"
"You think so?"
"Well .... It is a bit of a coincidence that we stop at two petrol stations and we both get often these great bargains"
We were in France by the time. Those thoughts dampened our enthusiasm. We had three Frontiers to cross before we were home; France into Spain, Spain into Morocco, Morocco to Gibraltar..... what if .... yes, what if we get stopped at any of those Customs (the EU was but a dream in those days) and we were found with stolen goods in our possession?
Shit!
That was simultaneously a thought and a rumbling in my belly! Just before we arrived at the France-Spain Frontier, we stopped at a lay-by and using the car tool kit, unscrewed a couple of panels in the inner upholstered part off the car and carefully packed away all 5 items. Now we were not just handling stolen goods, we had promoted ourselves to international levels. We were now smugglers of stolen goods, international smugglers at that!
OK ... OK ... we made it into Spain, no problem. Now we had become experienced international stolen goods smugglers! Driving south, whether we were joking, singing, eating, drinking or stopping overnight at a cheap hotel, the dark cloud of our "criminality" was stuck to us like a bad levanter! It didn't stop us enjoying the return trip since when you are that age such daring exploits spice each day and years later, even the memory of those daring days. But boarding the car ferry from Spain to Tangier sobered our mood considerably.
"Do you think the Moroccan customs will be very tough?"
"No, no .... I think it will be ok, we are just tourists coming back home... just like so many other tourists that do the crossing especially in summer"
We kept on reassuring ourselves, not fully believing our own words, but praying they would come true. As it happened nobody even looked into our car and we returned to Gibraltar victorious and relieve, happy to be home again.
But...... yes, I'm sure you expected a "but" didn't you?
I enjoyed an excellent relationship with my Dad. With Mum too, but this was a man to man conversation I wanted to have with him.
"Dad , let me show you what I bought I Switzerland .... " and I told him the truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth. I showed him my watch and my identity bracelet he looked at them, he looked at me, and just said: "Tourist!"
"What do you mean, Dad?"
"I mean if a deal is too good to be true, you were duped as the innocent tourists that you and Toby are!" he laughed!
In the morning I went to the Omega distributors in Gibraltar, Dialdas at the time. The manager was a Mr Amilal a very tall chap ... not a hair on his head, and with a very gruff voice and a ready smile.
"Hi Mr Amilal"
"Hi Mr David, how are you?" he was old school, addressing everyone with respect, always.
"I went on holiday and bought a gold Omega watch in Switzerland"
"It must have been expensive"
"Well ... yes, but I got a good price for it"
Mr Amilal's left eyebrow went up at that.
"Would you like to see it?"
"Yes please .... show me"
I did ...
His right eyebrow joined the left one as he looked at the watch.
"Come inside".
He took me to his office and there he carefully opened the back of the watch, and using a loupe, examined it carefully. He also examined the front and the sides of it.
"Mr David .... not only it is not gold, it is not even an Omega!"
Needless to say, when I told Toby and he had his pieces examined, we sunk into the mutual feeling of having been duped, tricked out of the substantial amount of money, and it was a lesson we both learnt .... the hard way!
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