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152                     AN EXILE OF THE MIND                                                                          THE HIPPIE TRAIL                          153




                                                                                                                           The Hippie Trail




                                                                                                             Shot at in Turkey. Luxury on a lake. Down the train loo in India.
                                                                                                                 Cornflakes in Kathmandu. Passengers in Alfresco Class.
                                                                                                                              A banana boat to Malaysia.

                                                                                                                 alf a million hippies jostled in the mud at Max Yasgur’s dairy
                                                                                                            Hfarm in the Catskills. And from London to India, a weird
                                                                                                            procession of jalopies rattled on pot-holed roads for a taste of
                                                                                                            nirvana. Long-haired westerners rode war-surplus trucks, Kombi
                                                                                                            vans  and  ancient  buses.  Many  vehicles  clanked  to  a  standstill
                                                                                                            never to revive. Our bus was one of them.
                                                                                                               I may have missed the magic of Woodstock at Max’s place but
                                                                                                            not the legendary Hippie Trail. Fourteen thousand kilometres of
                                                                                                            high  mountain passes,  scorching deserts,  and pot-holed  roads
                                                                                                            set the scene. This adventure was never a matter of money but
                                                                                                            of  guileless  courage  and marvellous months of  eating  badly,
                                                                                                            sleeping in flea-ridden pensions and not bathing.
                                                                                                               Jack Kerouac’s novel, On the Road, inspired an open-minded
                                                                                                            generation to roam the east. Free-spirited gypsies on a journey
                                                                                                            of spiritual enlightenment. A kind of earthbound form of astral
                                                                                                            travel with  its  compass  swinging  to  hashish  centres  along  the
                                                                                                            way. The psychedelic  stopovers for enthusiastic  potheads gave
                                                                                                            the Trail its name. This alternative tourism also gave birth to the
                                                                                                            Lonely Planet, the largest publisher of guide books in the world.
                                                                                                            Nicole and I just wanted a cheap trip home.
                                                                                                               We crossed a wintering city on a morning bright with frost to
                                                                                                            board our bus. The year was 1970. A miraculous time in history
                                                                                                            when the Middle East enjoyed a rare peace. Our driver, Kev, an



                                                                                                              Free-spirited gypsies on the Trail.
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