Sibelius and Busoni are in London in 1921. They wander around, seeing the sights, occasionally stopping at a quaint pub to soak up the local culture, chat with the locals, and have a pint or six of bitter.
After a while, they find themselves in a very nice neighbourhood with big, stately residences. No pubs, no shops, no restaurants and, worst of all, no public lavatories.
At this point Sibelius notices that he really has to go, after all those pints of bitter. He finds a narrow side street, with high walls surrounding the adjacent buildings, and decides to use the wall to solve his problem.
As he is unzipping, he is tapped on the shoulder by a London bobby, who says: ‘Sir, you simply cannot do that here, you know.’ ‘I'm very sorry’ replies Sibelius, ‘but I really have to go, and I just can't find a public lavatory.’
‘Ah, yes,’ says the bobby, ‘just follow me’. He leads Sibelius to a back delivery alley to a gate, which he opens. ‘In there, sir’, points the bobby, ‘anywhere you like.’
Sibelius enters and finds himself in the most beautiful garden he has ever seen. Manicured grass lawns, statues, fountains, sculptured hedges, and huge beds of gorgeous flowers, all in perfect bloom.
Since he has the policeman's blessing, he relieves himself and feels much more comfortable. As he goes back through the gate, hesays to the bobby: ‘That was really decent of you. Is that what you call English hospitality?’
‘No sir’, replies the bobby, ‘that is what we call the French Embassy.’