The road from London to Southampton is one of the oldest in the Kingdom
and passes many places of historic interest. In early days this highway,
leading from one of the main seaports through the ancient Saxon capital,
was of great importance. Over this road we began the trip suggested by
the Touring Secretary of the Motor Union. As usual, we were late in
getting started and it was well after noon when we were clear of the
city. At Kingston-on-Thames, practically a suburb, filled with villas of
wealthy Londoners, we stopped for lunch at the Griffin Hotel, a fine old
inn whose antiquity was not considered sufficient to atone for bad
service, which was sometimes the case. Kingston has a history as ancient
as that of the capital itself. Its name is peculiar in that it was not
derived from King's Town, but from King's Stone; and at the town
crossing is the identical stone, so says tradition, upon which the Saxon
kings were crowned. It would seem to one that this historic bit of rock
would form a more fitting pedestal for the English coronation chair than
the old Scottish stone from Dunstafnage Castle.

After a short run from Kingston, we passed down High Street, Guildford,
which, a well qualified authority declares, is "one of the most
picturesque streets in England." Guildford might well detain for a day
or more anyone whose time will permit him to travel more leisurely than
ours did. William Cobbett, the author and philosopher, who was born and
lived many years near by, declared it "the happiest looking town he ever
knew"--just why, I do not know. The street with the huge town clock
projecting half way across on one side, the Seventeenth Century Town
Hall with its massive Greek portico on the other, and a queerly assorted
row of many-gabled buildings following its winding way, looked odd
enough, but as to Guildford's happiness, a closer acquaintance would be
necessary.