Roger and Mary Chance, my grandparents, spent the winter months and early spring of 1934 in Hindelang in the Bavarian Alps. They were drawn by the reputation of the local quack, Professor Franz Gerl, who seemed to have some success treating Mary's thyroid trouble. There they got to know another of Gerl's patients, Rudolf Hess, with whom Roger spent many hours discussing Hitler's intentions for Europe.
In May they returned home to Hampstead, London, where Roger wrote an article for the Fortnightly Review,
Does Germany mean war? Attempting to give a 'fair' judgement, the article was translated to German and reprinted (apparently with the critical paragraphs edited out), attaining a wide readership in literary and political circles.
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Diana and I are staying with my parents in their lovely home in Criccieth, north Wales. I'm in the sitting room with a stunning view of the sunrise, looking out over Tremadog Bay towards the Rhinog mountains. Yesterday we took a drive around Snowdonia National Park, lunching in Beddgelert before returning at dusk to see this amazing sunset, silhouetting Criccieth castle which was built in the 1300s. This is a beautiful but little known part of Britain. My mother's parents built a holiday home not far from here in the 1930s which we visited every summer when I was growing up. When my father took early retirement in 1978 he and my mother moved to the farm Rhosgyll Fawr (meaning big rough pasture) which they'd bought some years earlier and restored to working order. Finally they settled in the town, building themselves this house where they are seeing out their closing years.
