BALKAN SAGA By Donald Weir
Mr. Weir and a friend drove their two-seater sports car across Europe to the Balkans, touching fourteen countries but seeing little of any of them. They never forgot that they were Britishers, and a Union Jack fluttered on the radiator of the car so that the world should know too. After reading Balkan Saga (Oliver and Boyd, 7s. 6d.) one realises that there is some truth in the foreigners' cartoons of Britons abroad. Anybody who finds the flavour of garlic " nauseating " and bouillabaisse in Marseilles sickening should only go on conducted, tours to Mose continental-. resorts where English teas are a speci- ality. They managed to extract some amusement however from the queer habits of foreigners and occasionally had the relief of a fellow Briton's company. They had spent a dreary day in Bulgaria but " A pleasant surprise arrived next morning in the form of a WOlseley Hornet which drove up to the café where we were demonstrating to tre waiter exactly how tea ought to b_ made." In that sentence is the essence of this book, which, appropriately enough, is written almost entirely in cliches : they " linger over their coffee " on occasion " dispense with washing formalities " and drink when " liquid refreshment is indicated."
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