H.P. Lovecraft was a veteran traveller by motor-coach in the 1920s and 30s. Here we have a view as if from the back seat in a typical lower-cost local type of motor-coach of the mid 1930s, as photographed at that time (I’ve enlarged and colorised it).

By the mid 1930s there were, of course, expensive lines of streamlined coaches on the cross-country routes. Some even with reclining sleeper-seats and their own refreshments bar in a cubicle at the back with a white-uniformed server in the hatch. But Lovecraft was… “always seeking the cheapest possible route” on his many travels and so, unless an utter bargain of a long-distance ticket was on offer, he chose the lowest priced options. He would also have encountered many passenger transfer coaches, waiting at railway stations.

With clean glass, a good seat behind the driver (as was his wont) and the right weather, one might…

“traverse the long miles [through New England] by motor-coach, eagerly drinking in the green rolling hills, the fragrant, blossoming orchards, and the white steepled towns” (Dexter Ward).

He also appears to have been keen on the “fragrant” bit — a flow of rural air through the motor-coach — having come to detest the “prepayment suffocation chambers” that were the stuffy and smelly New York City equivalents. Possibly a draught was one of the advantages of being seated behind or beside the driver, who likely had a side-window open in summer. It would also have meant he was not forced to converse with a random fellow passenger, but might (if the driver was not the gruff and silent sort) obtain from the driver occasional names of the sights being passed. It would also enable him to easily signal the driver to stop and left him off, easy enough in those days of relatively little motor traffic. This happened at Salem, for instance…

The coach ride was delightful, giving frequent glimpses of ancient houses in a fashion to stimulate the antiquarian soul. Suddenly, at a graceful and shady village corner which the coach was about to turn, I beheld the tall chimneys and ivy’d walls of a splendid brick house of later Colonial design, and espy’d a sign which proclaim’d it open for publick inspection. Captivated by the sight, I signall’d the driver and alighted … I loudly sounded the knocker and awaited developments. Nothing develop’d. I then knock’d at the side door, but with equal futility. Then I noted a door half open in a miserable ‘ell’ at the back of the house; and believing the place tenanted, made a third trial there. My summons was answer’d simultaneously by two of the most pitiful and decrepit-looking persons imaginable — hideous old women more sinister than the witches of 1692, and certainly not under 80. For a moment I believ’d them to be Salem witches in truth; for the peculiarly sardonick face of one of them, with furtive eyes, sneering lips, and a conspicuously undershot lower law, intensify’d the impression produc’d by their incredible age and gauntness …” (1st May 1923).

Lovecraft may also have liked the hand-made and slightly rustic feel in some of lower-cost motor-coaches found in rural and coastal tourist districts, with (as can be seen here) stitched leather seat-top covers, woven wicker chair-frames and polished wooden arm-rests. This was a hand-crafted modernity, put together by artisanal craftsmen in small workshops.

Once in a new town or resort he also hopped aboard such coaches with his fellow tourists. Tourism was then a relatively ‘new thing’ for many towns, and even in the Great Depression there could be enough of this new breed of antiquarian sightseer to make such things viable. In this “rubbernecking” way he made his quick initial tour and assessment of a new place…

“[a] sort of preliminary touring, the standardised service of the various motor-coach sightseeing companies, and of the street-railway corporation, is strongly recommended as the cheapest and most comprehensive method [of first encountering a place].”

His sense of direction was excellent, even in the labyrinth of New York City, and he would also minutely study maps of a place before visiting. So, even while being spun around on a “rubberneck bus”, he could keep his bearings in a new place.