MARCH 26, 1957
MADRID, Spain—We had an easy takeoff in New York on a TWA plane on our way to Morocco, and almost immediately our pilot told us fog was expected over Lisbon, Portugal. So we stopped in Gander, New Foundland, for fuel so that we would have plenty over Lisbon.
Snow surrounded us in Gander and there was no sign of the spring weather we had left in New York. That pleasant New York weather had led me to buy a spring hat at the last minute, but perhaps it will be appropriate in Morocco.
The moon was out in Gander and the big plane, surrounded by refueling trucks, looked like a weird monster in the full moonlight. We left Gander without delay setting our watches on Lisbon time, and settled back to sleep as long as we could.
I awoke to find that we were above the clouds, with a beautiful sunrise to greet us.
About 20 miles from the Lisbon airport we were told that we would have to wait a half hour for the sun to burn through the fog, so we circled a little harbor and looked down on its fishing village.
On a nearby hill was a lovely, fairy-like palace and further along the coast a summer seaside resort. The houses all seemed to be white with red roofs, and from the air this was a charming contrast to the fields, which were a soft spring green.
At Lisbon, the air was soft and we walked outside the airport to find green grass, clipped hedges and orange zinnias. We seemed far out of the city which the fog kept us from sighting from the air.
There are nine in our party. My son, Elliott, and his wife, Minnewa, and two friends, Mr. Catherwood and Mrs. Morton, and Dr. David Gurewitsch and daughter, Grania, were with me on the flight from New York.
We were joined in Madrid by Mrs. Catherwood and their 17-year-old daughter, making it a party of nine for the rest of the trip. After our trip in Morocco, we will part, however. Three of us will go home and the others to Rome and then to southern Spain.
It is amusing how people vary about travel. Four of us are traveling tourist class because we can take more side trips that way. The others like comforts approximating those at home at all times, so they are traveling first class and even take a berth at night which, to me, is the height of discomfort. I dislike dressing and undressing in such confined space!
We arrived in Madrid more than a half hour late and lost another hour, so it was 2:15 p.m. before we sat down to lunch. We were joined by Major Joe Golan and his wife, who are bringing us up-to-date on the latest news, since he knows Morocco well.