Taken From All About My Hat The Hippy Trail 1972 ISBN 978-0993210716
Whilst Al was on the long journey by train to Delhi and his future, he began to think of what had happened to him on his journey, some of which I never knew.
They had already travelled from the UK, across Belgium, Germany, Austria, Yugoslavia and then to Greece. The group had had several minor adventures on route, but those stories are for Al to tell at another time. Let it be known that they had all enjoyed their expedition so far.
After I found myself upon Al's head, Al had travelled to Turkey with John, Keith, Mike and Marion, They made their way to southern Turkey and Al had left with Keith by boat to go to the east of Turkey.
From there Al and Keith travelled to India.
Al's biggest problem had been funds. He had left the UK with just sixty pounds. That was about twelve days work for him. By the time I met him, he had just about thirty pounds.
It was the “Hippy Trail” and it was 1972. Al was twenty-two years old, I was about the same age as far as I know.
My story restarts with a long and uncomfortable train ride back to New Delhi.
We had just left Haridwar, North India. On the railway station Al was vomiting and had diarrhoea. He had very little money, no companionship, wondering where he really was and would he get home.
When we reached Delhi, Al went and stayed in the same small guest house, Mr Jain's, on Janpath Lane, that he had used before.
Every time Al ate or drank anything, he was sick.
He began noticing that his urine was a dark yellow colour and his stools were white.
Al thought these were the symptoms of Infectious Hepatitis, so the first thing the next day was to go to a local clinic not far from where he stayed.
When he explained to them his problem, they sent him straight to a Delhi hospital. We were to spend two weeks there, thankfully free of charge, giving Al plenty of good vegetarian food – boiled vegetables, chapatti, dahl and yoghurt, so he stopped being sick and began to build up some strength.
The hospital was clean and the staff friendly. A male ward orderly that delivered meals befriended Al and always gave him extra to eat.
Whilst there Al met an aged Indian Hindu man who said that he was dying. But the man had a deep calmness and joy about him. Something Al remembers to this day.
On our travels, Al had come across several people that seemed to have that joy about them. An elderly Sikh teacher, a Spanish hippy, a Hindu priest, a “Mahatma” in Haridwar on the banks of the Ganges, and now the old chap in the hospital.
He was thinking that maybe there was some sort of answer, one that neither religion nor science had provided him, some sort of key to the meaning of life that would bring peace and joy such as those men had emanated.
Also during his time there, Al had received a visit from a pleasant lady from his embassy who had given him ten pounds. So when he was released, at least he had some rupees.
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