Taken From All About My Hat The Hippy Trail 1972 ISBN 978-0993210716
Two weeks after being released from the hospital and arriving back in the city, Al went back to his dormitory room at Mr Jain's and booked in for a couple of nights.
Then he went to the American Express offices, as he had written to friends asking for money to be sent there. There was two lots of twenty pounds and one of ten pounds from his friends, waiting for him; a massive boost.
He now had fifty pounds at his disposal, enough to pay his bills and maybe even get back to England. After all he had initially left his home with little more than that, and everything was comparatively cheaper in Asia than Europe.
But, determined to save money, he slept for some nights in a small park close to Jain's hostel, and went each lunchtime to the India Coffee House near Connaught Circus, where, he had been told and it had proved to be true, rich Indian businessmen went for lunch and would buy Al food simply to be able to practice their English. That worked!
When he had left the hospital, the doctor had told him that no way was he to drink alcohol, and should avoid fried, oily or heavily spiced foods.
Al had discovered a cheap Chinese restaurant near Connaught Circus, where he could eat simple boiled rice with boiled vegetables, so he frequented that.
Early one evening, whilst he was sitting on wall smoking before his meal, he was approached by a pretty young girl. She announced herself as “Diane, from Cambridge” and told us that she had no money and was hungry and said that she had been abandoned in India by her English boyfriend.
“Can you help me please?”
Al said to her “I won't give you money but I am going over there to that Chinese restaurant and I can never finish my plate of food, so you are welcome to come with me and share, just rice and boiled vegetables though.”
Diane immediately said yes and that was the start of another relationship.
That night they huddled together under Al's unzipped sleeping bag in the park and at that time Al told Diane that he had been ill with Infectious Hepatitis so they had better not get too close in case he infected her. He told her about some of his adventures so far and that he had just a little money, so if she wanted, she could travel with him as he planned to leave in a couple of days, by train to Amritsar.
Diane said that she had already phoned her parents in England and they were going to send her some money to Islamabad in Pakistan.
So Al had a new travelling companion, some money and was feeling a lot better. Maybe the Infectious Hepatitis had gone; certainly the vomiting and running to the toilet had stopped.
The following evening they moved into a room in a cheap guest house called Mrs Colakaos on Janpath Lane and the following day, Al and Diane went to the Poste Restante to check for mail.
Key fob pic courtesy of Steve Boehm
There was a letter from Keith saying that he had been kicked off the train that he had “jumped” He had not bought a ticket but had reached Delhi after a few days by hitch-hiking. He wrote that he had stayed in Old Delhi but had not seen Al so he had headed off to the Kulu Valley for a while.
Al had read the letter and left the Post Office and walked up the street for about one hundred yards. He spotted Keith!
They greeted each other;
“Far out to see you again man,” said Keith; “Where you been, I got here a few days after I left Amritsar, got kicked off the fucking train and had to hitch for bloody miles, ha! But here I am, how are you?”
Al replied: “What! I got kicked off a train too, in the middle of the jungle up between Haridwar and Rishikesh a couple of weeks ago. I had a ticket from Delhi to Haridwar but not to Rishikesh. It was only a couple of rupees but the bloody conductor wanted me to pay a 100 rupee fine. He pulled the emergency cord and stopped the train and made me get off. It was just jungle.”
“Bloody hell man, at least they stopped at a station before I got the boot! What happened then? Where you been since?”, said Keith.
“Yeah, it turned out OK, I followed the railway track and then there was a road and a car stopped so I had a lift to Rishikesh and back to Haridwar with a great Indian family – they took me to see the Maharishi place, you know, the Transcendental meditation guru guy the Beatles had.”
“Where you going next? I'm off to Nepal tomorrow, by bus, fuck the trains, man!” said Keith.
“God I've been really ill. I got dysentery and Infectious Hepatitis. I came back here and I was in Delhi hospital two weeks,” explained Al. “I'm going to Amritsar in a couple of days, with Diane. This is Diane. This is Keith” introducing them.
Keith shook hands with Diane. “I've got to go get some stuff done – maybe we can meet up later, where you staying?”
“At a guest house called Madam Calaka's. We got a room there. She's got about fifty cats! Come tonight, it's easy to find.”
Keith had a map of New Delhi and Al showed him where the guest house was.
It was so hot that every time that Al drank tea or a fizzy drink and by the time he managed to cross the main road he was thirsty again.
But
Keith never showed up.
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