Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1948)

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Guatemala City was only five air hours away. So much to recall! In Honduras the leading theater owner confided to me he’d successfully advertised “Blood and Sand” by letting a live bull chase a woman with a red purse out of his theater. Only one storm deterred us. That was when we left Panama. We went up to 10,000 feet. Rough and thick. So down to 500 feet, for the same. Decided it was wisdom to turn back for awhile. We switched our course and went to Medellin, one of the most beautiful cities in Colombia. The Nutibara Hotel there was designed by the same man who did my own house, I was able to discover. A 6 A.M. mass in an old cathedral will never be forgotten. Coffee was in blossom as we flew to Ecuador, where thirty snow-capped volcanoes towered. When we sat our plane down in Peru we’d seen only the peaks of the Andes on our left and the distant Pacific on our right and only a blanket of overcast beneath us. We landed by instruments, and very much liked vivid Lima — first of all for being right where we expected it to be! For some reason I remember walking out on a lonely pier at Paracus, where the barren desert meets the ocean in Peru and being spellbound by the sight of a dog swimming playfully after ducks. I brought the others out to watch. He was having such a royal time out of life! Our only inconvenience came from the way our coat sleeves were pressed in South America — flat with a crease. “Make the sleeves round!” I explained in vain. In Chile our suits didn’t come back from the cleaners in time for us to go to the American Ambassador’s — until the next day. Then we had so much fun we gladly stayed over several days waiting for clear weather in the pass through the Andes. We crossed the Andes to Buenos Aires, where $50,000,000 is being spent on a fine Amigos new airfield and a ten-mile speedway into the city. The cooking is superb there. A typical South American dinner party (except in Paraguay where people go to bed early and open their shops at five A.M.) begins with cocktails at nine P.M. and dinner at eleven P.M.! Servants were frequently so insistently artistic they served the most colorful dishes first; both host and guest were surprised! Incidentally, tailor-made suits are completed in a day and a half there. The most startling direction given me by a kind host who suggested we rest at his ranch was, “Turn right when you come to Paraguay!” He said it was off the beaten path and mapped our way to it on a gin rummy score-pad. We navigated by that, did “turn right” when we got to Paraguay, and his ranch was an incredible 1,500,000 acres in size. “Quite a lot to take care of,” the superintendent admitted modestly as Cesar and I kept gasping. Rio was the gorgeous city I remembered so well. I was proud that many young American architects have contributed to its outstanding beauty; they accepted bids to go down there when older men wouldn’t bestir themselves at the opportunity. Prices are high everywhere. Gas for the plane was sixteen cents a gallon some places and one dollar at others. I bought neckties as my souvenirs — my hobby. But I didn’t go to buy things. I wanted to actually see and understand the lands to our South. I’d wondered why their students participated so enthusiastically in politics; the answer is they have no fraternities or co-educational campus activities to divert them. Imagine dropping down out of the skies into a half a dozen tropical countries all in one day. That’s what we did in the Caribbean! We slept one night in Trinidad and the next in Havana, with all those island stops in between. In Haiti our things had to be sprayed with a DDT preparation to pass the customs. A couple of hours later we put down in Haiti and asked if we had to be sprayed. “Just a little bit,” an earnest official replied. Cuba was crazy about Cesar. He hadn’t been back there since he was seven. His nephew added to the commotion by rounding up neighbors for blocks around! My heart holds hundreds of memories — of South and Central America. Between pictures from now on I want to continue seeing more of this world. The End Cesar Romero and a prize Brahma bull on the 1,500,000-acre Paraguayan ranch he and Tyrone Power visited during their recent flight south