Saturday 1st September 1984
The day of my leaving party. Got home brewed beer and cider ready for action. Jacko, Hedge, Bee, Caroline and Andy arrived around 5. We hit the Pheasant, then the Eagle for doubles at pool, then the Bird in Hand. Paul and Sheena arrived on Hunky's bike and sidecar; was also surprised by the arrival of Pete and Ian, Joe & Belinda + Kim & brothers; also John Moore and Julia meant that the Snug Bar of the Bird was completely taken over by party goers. Ron (the publican) didn't move us out 'till 11.30pm. Party was brill: split level, red wine fights, Dave collapsed a chair, people were dancing in the bath, Crazy John arrived and I finally fell into the land of nod at about 5.30 with the sun rising and about 7 people kipping in the garden!
Sunday 2nd September 1984
Woke to see Joe, Bee, Kim, and the rest of those who spent most of the party in the atmosphere in my room, away from No. 83 (the number of the house I was living in), then spent a crazy morning in the garden, broken periodically by people wandering to the bushes to throw up. Did cauliflower cheese then went for a last drink with the Sheffield contingent at the Pheasant. Back to No. 83 to relax, then the forced march to the bus stop for final goodbyes. Linda left at about 4 and when I got to the Bird (pub) that evening it was, not surprisingly, empty apart from Stuart, who predictably had given my party a miss.
Monday 3rd September 1984
Joe and Bee came round for curry and salad and a last evening. Gave me a radio for a leaving present. I gave Joe the St. Christopher I bought from the church at Fontcouvert after the grapes last year. Then bevied cider with Des. 'till the early hours.
Tuesday 4th September 1984
Last full day in Stafford. Started moving my gear from No. 83, got a curry together for me and Stuart, then set off for Andy and Mary's in Stoke with my home brewing gear. 20 mins. at Andy's, said adieu to Mary 'n' Chris, then me and Andy start pub crawling. A pint in the Wedgy, then down the hill for 2 pints of Burton (Ale), bus to the railway station, found we had 20 mins. to spare and dashed to the pub for a pint and short, asking them to hold the train if necessary. Ran back to the station to find the train being held and as it pulled out, me and Andy exchanged clenched fist salutes.
Arrived back in Stafford at about 10pm, ran to the Bird in Hand and met Norm, Des, Karen and Stuart. Got further bevied, tried playing darts but Dave and his girlfriend refused to play any more 'cos I kept getting the scoring wrong. Karen gave us a lift back to no. 83 where we hit the home-brewed cider. At about 1.30am, I headed towards my bedroom to get a tape, punched the living room door, smashed the glass, then watched a gash in my wrist start to bleed copiously. Was wearing the smartest clothes (including a tie) that I'd worn in 5 years and got them bloody. Put a rapid tourniquet on made of a football sock and Karen gave me a lift up to the new hospital. To start with, I was a difficult patient, refusing to lie down, but the nurses were great. Things looked nasty as I could see that one of my tendons was half-cut through, and got a bit stroppy when they tried to tell me I couldn't go for a piss, but they put in 5 stitches, showed me how to take them out, bandaged me up and gave me a shot of penicillin. Then it was a lift back to 83 and I returned to my homebrew and shattered front room window - even got the tape played that I was looking for when the unexpected accidental suicide attempt occurred!
Wednesday 5th September 1984
Was up at 9 and got everything in my room prepared for removal. Mum arrived at about 10.30. Des gave a hand - which I needed, having only one in working order. Car was loaded to capacity, wished Desy well, thanked him for the four-leaf clover, then signed on at 11.50*. Next to the Bird in hand to find Norm had come off his bike, bruised his arm and had exactly the same bandage on as me. Had a last bevy with the two people - Norm and Stuart - who'd shared no. 83 with me, gave Ron and Stuart a bottle each of the demon cider, then after a last call at no. 83, left Stafford, only to get 15 miles down the motorway when I remembered I'd forgotten a prescription at Boots. Returned and left again, this time without hitch. Got to Farmborough at about 5.30, and after a bath and quiet evening, managed to get some sleep!
* I was on the dole at the time and had to sign my name every two weeks to receive supplementary benefit (Government financial support for the unemployed - at the time about £50 per week.
Thursday 6th of September 1984
Got my rucksack packed, traveller's cheques sorted out - thanks to Mum - then left for Bath after dinner. Had agggravation with the DHSS in Bath, but got an E111 for my trouble, then Mum drove me to the Polhill Arms near Halstead (my birthplace). When Mum dropped me off I wanted to do three things: hit the toilet (have a pint); ring Joe to tell him I'd be late, and suss out a bus to London. I'd just waved Mum away and spotted 2 old ducks waiting at the bus stop, so I wandered over to check out the time of the last bus, when one arrived. The driver told it was the last one, so I put my rucksack aboard, dived behind the (bus) shelter to relieve myself and 3 mins. after getting out of Mum's car, was on my way to Victoria.
Rang Joe from there, tubed to Blackhorse Road, then had a very friendly chat with a young Greek Cypriot woman, who invited me to eat the chips she'd just served inside the chippy. Had just the right sort of night with Joe 'n' Jan. Got wrecked on his homebrewed beer and wine, and got into complicated and interesting discussions thanks to his friends in Australia! The Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band were well in order, too!
Friday 7th to Saturday 8th September 1984.
Woke up to see Joe off to work and scoff a brill breakfast that had been knocked up by Jan, then bought a ticket at the Transalpino office* at Victoria to Cahors for £42. I cooked up some savoury soup on a park bench opposite Buck. Palace much to the amusement of the tourists and city folk wandering past, then left London for Newhaven at 11.30pm. Got moved from my seat by some jerks who'd been stupid enough to pay to book a seat. Boat left at about 1.30am. Chatted with some French people during the crossing and knocked back 2 large cans of cider, which was Lucozade compared to my homebrew, but good preparation for the impending French piss water beer.
At Dieppe, I dived straight into a first class carriage and was joined by a Kenyan - great guy, had a discussion about beers, cider etc. around the world (and) Israel, then managed some sleep 'till the train docked at the Gare du Nord. Metroed across Paris then was ripped off in a cafe near Austerlitz Station. I'd got the waiter's back up by ordering a coffee at the bar, then sitting down with it, so he got his revenge by giving me a cold croissant that another table didn't want and charging me 15 francs for it and the coffee.
Train went fine; arrived (in) Cahors at 3.30pm. Revisited the butcher's I went to last year - he didn't remember me, stashed some of my gear, and found a great place to doss - a garage.
* This organisation offered discount railway tickets at the time.
Sunday 9th September 1984
Had a quiet day. It pissed down in the night and I had fears for the gear I'd stashed by the river. Next day was fine though. Found out my train ticket could take me all the way to Spain!!
Monday 10th September 1984
Checked out the grape picking situation (from a tourist office), which didn't look hopeful, then got the train to Lezignan. Arrived at about 6.30pm, was walking towards the town centre when I came face to face with the old guy who hired me for the first job on the grapes last year. Had no time though for more than a surprised 'bonjour' before he'd passed me. Kipped in a great doss place on a landing (at the) top of some stairs in the park (in the) centre of Lezignan.
Tuesday 11th September 1984
Park keeper was quite annoyed next morning when he arrived to water the grass, especially as there were about 7 English people kipping in an empty fountain, too.
Visited the Maison des Jeunes et de la culture (MJC) and got depressing news about the chances of work, so I decided to head further south. Was just cooking dinner outside the park when Paulo and his wife and kid happened by. It was great to meet both of them. Left Lezignan at around 5pm. When I got to Perpignan, (the) first priority was to find a place to doss. Walked about 2 miles with things looking very unhopeful, then came across a block of flats with loads of indentations. Recovered the jam I'd been cursing myself for losing, walked round the back of the flats and found the perfect place - a covered foyer with no doors or windows. Prepared for bed and was just having a last fag when a black dog wandered around the corner and started barking at me. I decided to just hit sack and ignore it, but no chance. The dog was followed by a middle-aged bloke who asked me what nationality I was. He obviously didn't take an instant dislike to me 'cos he invited me into his flat where he and two sons and an old friend were drinking wine and eating bread & pate. Spent a pleasant evening at their table drinking wine and chatting 'till early in the morning. Slept back in the foyer content with new-found friends.
Authors note: Reading this diary entry nearly 30 after the events took place, it's refreshing to see that the irrational mutual dislike and suspicion which so often occurs between the French and English, does not always apply, and many French people, especially older adults, still recognise that the number of British men and women who lost their lives in an attempt to liberate France in the last two World Wars, overshadows the number of those lost in previous wars between the two countries.
Wednesday 12th September 1984
Woke to blazing sunshine, my railway guard friend (from the night before) invited me in for coffee, croissants and jam, then his son gave me a lift to the employment office in his Volkswagen. He enquired on my behalf about grape work without success. From there I said 'adieu' and headed to a 'clinique' and asked if they'd take my stitches out*. I was told to return after dinner, so I went to a park, wrote some postcards then returned and my stitches were removed. Moseyed around for pm, then went to the Auberge des Jeunes (Youth Hostel) and booked in for the night. A couple of English (guys) gave me a beer (and) had a worse night's kip than on the road due to someone with a horrible snore and a 20 stone Spaniard on the bunk above mine.
*See Tuesday 4th September 1984
Thursday 13th September 1984
Breakfast was at 7.30, I got some clothes washed and was outside cooking up some soup when an interesting-looking woman arrived. Offered her some soup, we chatted for a while and next thing, me and Cristina were hitching off towards Carnet Plage, the nearest beach to Perpignan. We spent the afternoon sun bathing (and) drinking beer and wine. We were able to hitch back in time to retrieve our (ruck)sacks, which were left at the hostel. Christina introduced me to Kiki, a beautiful Danish girl. Spent a very happy evening chatting with 2 attractive women and some other interesting 'aubergers' - a clown included. Christina went to bed early; I headed up at about 11 and went straight to the women's section and attempted to in Kiki's room, but as the auberge was antiquated rule-wise, I was directed to the men's side where I spent a second nightmarish night. The atmosphere was stifling with the window shut, and with it open, the noise of lorries going along the main road outside made sleep near impossible. Finally, exhaustion took over at about 3.30 the next day.
Friday 14th September 1984
Was up, washed and down for breakfast bright and early, then set off for the railway station where Christina had heard the patrons* would be arriving looking for pickers. Met Kiki en route and she joined me later. The 3 of us stayed the morning. The patrons arrived alright, but they were looking for Spaniards with contracts. Christina and I decided to jump trains away from Perpignan - a decision made all the easier by a totally depressed and depressing German who attached himself to us.
We took the TALGO to Narbonne without hitch, then hitched to Beziers with no more than a 15 min. wait. We got further downers from the ANPE employment office and Grape Propaganda office - no work, then as me and Christina were walking dejectedly through the town centre, we came across a jazz band playing away. Always a good sign, then I left Chris looking after my gear and set off for the MJC. Was directed to a cooperative where a very helpful woman photocopied the cooperative addresses (local) and gave me a bottle of wine for free. Rejoined Christina greatly perked up, I got my petrol cooker going then we hit town, which was as dead as a doornail. After a beer in an unfriendly cafe, we went to the railway station and found an empty carriage to spend the night.
* This is 'boss' in French.
Saturday 15th September 1984
We were joined by Kiki next day, who had got the interrail ticket through she was waiting for. Had more hopes dashed when they announced over the tannoy that patrons would be arriving to collect pickers, but it was a repeat of Perpignan - contract holders only.
While we were on the platform, a bloke advised us to go to Avignon where the best work lay. Kiki and Christina decided to head there, whilst I wanted to return to Lizignan, where my best chance seemed to lie. We had a last mosey round Bezier & breakfast, then I kissed them both goodbye and hopped on a train bound for Narbonne, arranging to meet them at Avignon railway st. (on) Monday at 6pm if neither of us found work.
I arrived at Lezignan and started cooking grub at (the) same place as before. Pigs arrived and told me the harvest was over and to go to Narbonne. I moved out of sight, finished supper, then was heading for the park when a car hooted and stopped - it was Raymond, who hired me for the second job last year. He also said the grapes were finished, which I couldn't understand. Then I made the mistake of mentioning where I was planning to kip in front of the customers of a cafe. Scouted around for a better place, then settled on the park. I was really tired and must have been asleep for an hour when I woke up and saw someone standing 2ft away from me, 2 steps down. Before I had any chance to move, he grabbed the bottom of my sleeping bag and dragged it - with me in it - down the flight of steps and started to punch me in the face. I was more surprised than anything else; I made 3 or 4 half groans, half exclamations, then he and his 3 mates wandered off saying a sarcastic goodbye as they went. I was left to gather my belongings, count my bruises and stop my nose bleeding. I quickly got my gear together and moved to a dry drainage ditch where I quickly fell asleep with my knife open and in hand.
Sunday 16th September 1984
After a brief stop at the MJC. where a Spanish bloke said he may be able to get me work, I set off for Conilhac. Got an unrequested lift and met Silvi, Mr Azaise and his wife. They were unable to give me work, but the patron said that he'd ring the MJC. on Wednesday if anything turned up. Spent the night in a disused wind pump, but after a trek to Conilhac to get water, I walked into an iron crossbar and came very close to blinding myself. It drew blood in a line from the bridge of my nose to the corner of my left orbit. Crashed thinking that I was in more danger from my own stupidity than the thugs in Lezignan.
Monday 17th September 1984
Walked to Lezignan and spent the morning in the workless depression of the MJC, then go the train to Narbonne on the way to fulfil my rendezvous (see 15th Sept.); got to Avignon on my Montpellier ticket. Kiki and Christina were nowhere to be seen, but then I only half-expected to see them anyway. Went into the city, then was making my way into the station when I spotted a man heading towards me in a determined manner. I ignored him, but he called me over and offered me a job picking tomatoes for 30 francs a day, food and lodging included. I accepted, was shown to a minivan and met Mike and Bernie for the first time. We were joined by Patric and Bruno - 2 French blokes then driven to a field, not far from Sarrians, and given a huge meal. Spent the night in an old hay cart, which was to become home for a week; it did the trick giving shelter, but there was no light.
Tuesday 18th to Friday 21st September 1984
Picking tomatoes was back-breaking work grovelling in the dirt, food was outstanding and the gypsies - one of them a convicted armed bankrobber and ex-junkie, on the whole friendly. Bernie offered to try and get me work in exchange for £55 of my wages, which I agreed to. The last day was a very laid back afternoon, spent throwing tomatoes at each other then, when Bijou returned, he took us back to work again. On the Thursday afternoon we were working away when a bus load of Gendarmes arrived, surrounded us and made us empty out our rucksacks in front of them, then carefully checked our passports. We finished work and they returned and inspected the soles of our feet for some obscure reason.
Saturday 22nd September 1984
The Saturday we were paid the grand sum of 112 francs (about £10) and given a lift to Sarrians ('we' now refers to me, Mike and Bernie). The 3 of us had an extravagant breakfast (after Bernie threw an off Camembert on the pavement outside the shop that sold it to him and wouldn't give him a refund). Then we arranged to meet in the town of Carpentras, to which I walked (8km) and the others hitched.
We met at the post office, then me and Bernie went and bought some Espadrilles, and I picked up some maps while Mike was entertained by 3 Carpentras down and outs!
We then walked to a nearby supermarket - the 'Casino', bought some goods, then on the way out, Bernie suggested using the trolleys to wheel our bags to a good's yard we planned to use as a shelter for the night. We were no more than 100 yds from the Casino when 2 supermarket attendants came up to us and told us we couldn't take the trolleys. We politely told them that (it) was alright and started to remove our bags, then things got out of order as a passing police car stopped and a racist Gendarme dismounted and went right over the top, pushing us back towards the market, unwilling to listen to any attempt at an explanation. He hit Bernie and when we got to the Casino, it was time to empty out our rucksacks again, which created quite a spectacle for the locals. After closely scrutinizing our passports, he pointed down the road and said "Avignon's that direction, go, and if you come back there'll be trouble". We walked until we found an old wrecked house, I did some food, Mike made some candles and we got reasonable night's kip despite me worrying Bernie by creeping out to relieve myself in the wee hours.
Sunday 23rd September 1984
We split up to hitch back to Sarrians. I walked to Monteux, found a prime hitching place by a level crossing and who should walk past but Mike and Bernie! I got fed up of hitching, so went to a bar for a beer, got some card to make a sign, then pretty soon got a lift, passing Mike and Bernie on the way. We met up again in the village square and were soon surrounded by curious locals. Met two girls who we chatted with for some time, then set off for the tomato picking site, gathering assorted veg. on the way. Spent the night in a farm shack that seemed to abound with mosquitos, but I escaped unbitten.
Monday 24th September 1984
Walked to Sarrians where we were met and transported to Beaumes de Venise by Andrew's wife, Liz. I was most impressed by the living conditions at the "Batcave", hot water, fridge, oven, shower and washing machine. We got food stocked up, then started work in the afternoon.
Tuesday 25th September to Tuesday 9th October 1984
First session of work was, on the whole, a monotonous existence broken by games of jacks*, bonus*, Whist and trips to Codec**. I took a couple of solo treks into the mountains. Firstly, a visit to the Chateau at Le Barroux via La Roque Alric, a beautiful village perched on the side of a rock pinnacle, trouble was the weather was foul, so visibility was virtually nil. Later, I walked up into the mountains near Beaumes on a lovely sunny day. Did a bit of climbing and enjoyed the magic view. During work, the patron's wife took an instant dislike to me, Mike and Bernie, and Bern and I got a public warning for talking on the lines. Andy gave the 3 of us, plus his sister and her fiancée a lift to Bedoin to see 'The life of Brian'.
* card games ** supermarket
Wednesday 10th to Saturday 13th October 1984
This was a holiday break. I took a walk to see the chateau ruins, the 3 of us hitched in tandem to Carpentras, then me and Mike attempted to get to the grottos at Thouzon. We got one lift to a town, Pernes-les-fontaines, half-way there, then abandoned the journey in favour of a bottle of wine, Camembert & bread. Hitched back to Carpentras where we spent the night in a bar playing pinball and attempting to get drunk. Started the walk back to Beaumes and got a lift to within ½km. Before this, Bernie & I walked to Sarrians and met the same two girls in the main bar (see 23rd September). Got some foraging done and arranged to meet them the following Saturday (6th Oct.). I walked / hitched there by myself and had a great night getting bevied and chatting with the youth of Sarrians. Got one lift to the main nightclub in the area, and attempted to get in, but couldn't afford the fee and gate crashing with a cabbage under my arm wasn't on. Staggered back to Beaumes and had to climb over the gates as I'd bee3n locked out.
Saturday 13th October 1984
Andy gave Mike and me a lift to the bottom of Mont Ventoux, (and) after a search for mushrooms in which I was quite successful, we started the long haul to the top, collecting a praying mantis on the way.
We didn't get to the top until about 5pm. Mike was shagged, view brilliant, then started hitching down. Got my first lift on a mountainside from a van with a couple of great people. Trouble was they were camping ½ way down, so we had another walk before another car stopped which gave us a lift to Malaucene. Walked again, lift to Le Barroux and walked the last 8 kilometres to Beaumes. Mantis survived, but both me and Mike were fit for nothing except food - all I'd eaten was a bowl of porridge and camembert butty, not a lot for a 2,000m climb!
Sunday 14th October 1984
Did nothing but sunbathe + play cards.
Monday 15th October 1984
Resumed work. Me & Bernie got a lift to Carpentras, where I bought a ticket to U2. Andy treated us to beers in a cafe.
Tuesday 16th October 1984
Got the blow that we would finish work (on) Thursday or Friday.
Thursday 18th October 1984
Last morning's work. Bernie & I got a lift to Carpentras with Liz, only to find (that) all (the) U2 tickets (had) sold out. That night we went to Aubignan and had a great night in a bar playing French billiards, pinball and table football. Got quite drunk then walked back to Beaumes at about 12.30am.
Friday 19th October 1984
Woke late, showered, then the 3 of us hitched (leapfrogged) to Carpentras. Split up there to hitch to Avignon. I got one short lift, spotted Mike, asked the guy to stop, but he not only stopped, but dropped me off! Mike and I got the bus and met Bernie at Avignon station. We tried to find the Magic Bus office without success, then bunked* to Marseille; I thought I'd been caught when someone shoulder-barged the toilet door, but luckily it was a passenger. We got the metro to St. Just to find U2 were playing in a marquee. It got very hectic outside with cars pushing through the crowd and getting rocked from side-to-side. I came close to getting run over, so Bernie and I left to find a bar (Mike & Bernie still hadn't got tickets to the show). Mike joined us and riled the barman by attempting to go straight to the bog and cursing when questioned. M & B left to get tickets, which they were successful in doing, and we met (again) in another bar. Walked to the venue when it started raining hard. Me and Bernie handed in our tickets and dashed to the tent only to find Mike hadn't got through. It turned out he'd lost his ticket in the ½ hour since buying it!
The atmosphere inside was electric. When U2 came on I got within 6 lines of the front and spent a great hour pogoing like a looney. Then with sweat dripping off me I forged my way to the side and rested for a while. The band played 3 encores, they also played 'Sunday, Bloody Sunday'***, 'In the name of love', 'I will follow' - magic music.
By coincidence I met Bernie outside, we walked to the metro station and just inside the door, flat on his back with one eye ½ open we found Mike fast asleep**. The 3 of us then returned to Marseille and jumped trains back to Avignon. We were able to find an empty carriage to doss in, but with only a jumper & cagoule plus mosquito and cold, it was a pretty bad night's kip. A guard got on at about 5.30am and told us the train would be leaving for Montpellier so we transferred to the waiting room.
* "jumped trains" - this involved getting on a train and hiding until the ticket collector had passed.
** He'd missed the show and fallen asleep in the metro station. He was able to sleep with one eye half-open, which is an excellent 'safety measure' if you decide to fall asleep late at night on a bench in a metro station in Marseille!
*** You Tube video
Saturday 20th October 1984
Caught bus back to Carpentras and started to walk back to Beaumes, I met Bernie and was just having a morning ciggy when a car stopped which eventually took all 3 of us right to Beaumes. Rest of the day was given over to sleep and sunbathing.
Sunday 21st October 1984
Mike got our washing done, which made the patron's wife irate. Last day in Beaumes was relaxing and building up for take off.
Monday 22nd October 1984
Woke at 7.30 due to faulty alarm, got packed and said 'adieu' to Mike and Bernie, who got a lift to the motorway for the return to Britain. I cleared up the batcave, emptied the habitat* then, after saying 'goodbye' to the old boot, Andy gave me a lift to Avignon. From there I jumped what I thought was a train to Nice, but it turned out to be a train to Lyon. Got off at Vaucluse, about 80 miles in the wrong direction, jumped back to Avignon, hearing in the nick of time that it wasn't a through train to Marseille. Bought a short-distance ticket en route to Marseille & bluffed. Then train to Aix en Provence, where I crashed at about 7pm in the lee of a block of apartments. Yet again, I got a far better night's sleep in the open air than my last night in Beaumes.
* We had a glass jar with the praying mantis from Mont Ventoux, and the scorpions we'd found inside and outside the 'batcave' - the name with which we'd baptised our five-star accommodation.
Tuesday 23rd October 1984
Got an early start for a change. Found a good place to hitch and got one lift all the way to Nice. From Nice I hitched with a bloke going all the way to Florence only he dropped me off at Menton. From there I took the train to Monaco and spent the rest of the day sightseeing. In the evening I went to an English bar where I was able to drink British beer in a quite false atmosphere (the bar was full of the yachting set). Then to the station to pick up my sleeping bag from the locker, then dossed in the deserted beach bar that Bernie had told me about.
Wednesday 24th October 1984
Train to Menton then another train to Ventimiglia in Italy. I tried hitching from there but it looked bad so I returned to the information office and decided to go for a Transalpino ticket to Athens. Left for Rome at 9.40pm and spent an uncomfortable night in a 1st class carriage.
Thursday 25th October 1984
Got to Rome early morning; left luggage for my rucksack then set off to see the sights. Collosium was first stop, then the Vatican. I was very impressed by Rome. St Peter's is outstanding as churches go. The city also seemed to buzz even more than London or Paris at night. Left Rome terminus at 6pm for Pescara. Got some kip on the train from Pescara to Brindisi.
Friday 26th October 1984
Spent most of the morning in a park in Brindisi. Got together a spaghetti bolognese then embarked the boat at 9pm. Kipped the night between two groups of Americans.
Saturday 27th October 1984
Woke after cold night and here I am, now sitting in the forward lounge steaming towards Patras after a short stop at Corfu. Arrived (in) Patras at about 5.30pm. Got chatting in the railway station to an ancient Greek bloke, who advised me not to go all the way to Athens, but stop the night at Corinth, then head to Argos. After he left I chatted with a couple of American women then boarded the Athens train. After 1½ hours, 2 heavies got on and sat one in front of me and one beside me. Thankfully, I'd made up my mind to get off at Corinth (they enquired if I knew that when I got off*). Spent the night on the quay and woke to..........
*I had a gut feeling that these guys were planning to rob me.
Sunday 28th October 1984
......... a National holiday & celebration of the Greeks throwing the Italians out of Greece during the last war. Watched a procession of kids, some in national dress. Headed for the beach and sunbathed, slept and swam in the sea, then soaked up the buzz on the promenade before hitting a "pub" for a couple of beers and some good sounds - Bob Marley 'burnin' inc.! Then, after a heart-searching choice between more beer and economy, I kipped a second night on the quay.
Monday 29th October 1984
After meandering around checking the bus price to Argos, I decided to attempt the hitch. Walked out on the road to Argos when a pickup truck stopped and after something incomprehensible (in Greek), the bloke offered me work picking lemons. Met him later to find (that the) lemons had turned into a pig farm! But it was wages when I was down to my last £5 with no chance of calling for help as the Greek post office was on strike. After my first kebab, I took a bus and made my way to the farm. Was taken on for 20,000 drachmas a month (about £150). Got shown some of the ropes, then in the evening Ian and I hit 'Pablo's place' for a kilo* of Karasi, then to the 'fat man's bar' for another, then wandered back and finally got to sleep at 3.30am.
* Greek wine was sold in this measure, which I imagine is one kilogram weight of liquid. It was like buying a carafe of wine.
Tuesday 30 October 1984
First day's work; up at 7.30 - had 400 50kg sacks to unload (in the) late pm! Then to Pablo's bar for Suvlaki (10), salad and titbits. Looks like monotony for the next couple of months as there's only ½ day off a week and I'll be too shagged to get much excitement ----- but who knows??
Thursday 8th November 1984
Been here 1 week with few things worth mentioning. Have got to know & like Ian, and dislike the Indians, Rocky & Pabu. It looks like the later has got the sack, which means just 3 illegal foreign workers on the farm. The police have arrived twice, the last time they took away a pig, which means our jobs are safe in that respect. One night in Pablo's, a customer had one over the eight, overturned a table and smashed a chair while getting a bit over-excited with his dancing. Last night I caught the bus to Korinthos, met Ian and had a night on the piss. Mixed ouzo and beer, left Ian asleep in a cafe while I got a taxi back. I felt like death warmed up this morning. Staggered out at ¼ to 9 to have a sack put straight on my back and pens to clean. Afternoon was great, slept till 4 then fed (the) pigs. Night in tonight after yesterday's excess.
Sunday 18th November 1984
Today was our ½ day off. Enjoyed the luxury of roast chicken, which took the hassle of me doing chicken impressions in the local village shop to obtain (it)*. Time passes pretty quickly on the pig farm near Xylo Keriza, mainly because so much of it is spent in hard slog.
Last Sunday Ian and I took a walk to the sea (about ¾ hr walk), it was a sunny day but by the time we got there it wasn't warm enough to swim.
A few days ago we had a kamikaze pig that jumped 12ft off a ledge, suffered a nose bleed, but then got the chop (excuse the pun) after apparently having a nervous breakdown. Relations with Rocky and Papu (who avoided the push) have deteriorated somewhat after we were reported to the boss for not being clean i.e. not doing their washing-up for them, and not working hard enough, which took some swallowing after they've both taken what amounted to a week's holiday in the past 3 weeks. Also Ian's food was eaten by Rocky (presumably), petty things which build up when living in close proximity.
Friday night I got totally bevied on Krasi (Retsina) in the fat man's bar. Drank 2 kilos, vomited into a glass, then staggered back holding 2 eggs above my head - got them back in one piece too, somehow. Felt like death warmed up Saturday but both Kryla and the doctor recognised my incapacity and eased my workload down. Slept about 16 hours and have only fully recovered tonight. Just as well, as tomorrow, just for a change, is another working day!
* This was before I started teaching English and let me experience first-hand what it's like trying to buy things (which aren't visible to be pointed at) from a small shop when you don't speak the language. Flapping my arms and making clucking noises was the only way I could get across to the shopkeeper what I wanted to buy!
Monday 3rd December 1984
One month completed on "Pigditz"* with little to mention of outstanding interest. There was nearly a fight in the Suvlaki bar (Pablo's) in Exilo (Xylo), Ian, Rocky and myself worked one of our Sunday afternoons off for Theo, a Greek with grand designs, perhaps beyond his capabilities, but he paid us well and was hospitable during an afternoon that was far easier than the morning on the farm and earnt us more than a day's Pigditz work (in 2 hours!). The last 3 days have been comparatively good. Friday was payday, Ian and I had a couple of beers and played chess in the Gambler's Bar, then went to Pablo's. It was the first really cold night of my journey, my espadrilles disintegrated on a trip to the outside bog, but all was not lost; Niko had words with son, Pablo, who went out and returned with a pair of his trainers in quite good nick! I couldn't have been more chuffed, especially as my boots have just about given up the ghost too.
Saturday night, me and Ian went into Korinthos. We got a lift in from one of the Exilo farmers, had suvlaki, chips 'n' salad, cakes 'n' coffee, then we went to the 'Pub' on the seafront (where I'd spent my first night in Greece) for good sounds before 10pm, beers, whiskey (and) tequila for Ian. when the pub shut we moved to a place that served beer accompanying food (spaghetti bolognese) where we watched a strange American film (Gordon's War) on the telly with Greek subtitles. Taxi back and crash: thankfully Sunday was quiet.
Only other news is Rocky, the Kenyan Indian, seems to have left (although his bag remains). He took a day off without permission (on) Friday, refused to work (on) Saturday and has been AWOL since. This is another thing that has contributed to a better atmosphere on the farm; Rocky was an archetypal back-stabber and double-crosser, who I got to dislike more and more as time went by. He's the first person I've come across on this journey that I would sooner leave a bar than drink beside him. Also, since his departure, Ian and I have become more indispensable, thus more respected by the bosses and Papu seems more tolerable too, despite him putting on the airs and graces of an overseer. It's ok though as he puts his back into the work. Lastly, oranges can be easily scrumped and fresh lemon squash and Greek creamed yoghurts are discoveries that make the icing on the top of the pig shit. Last night (I) found 2 rats fighting in the kitchen!!
* This is a play on words for the Nazi prison camp called "Colditz", which featured in a TV series in 1972.
Saturday 8th December 1984
After long periods of calm turpitude another of those mind blowingly rapid bursts of action occurred last night. Ian set off for Exilo at 7.30 to meet Papu and make a phone call to his mate, Costa. I was quite knackered after mixing beer and metaxa (brandy) the night before so I decided to catch up on some kip. I got my head down at 9pm and surfaced again at about 12.30 to the sound of someone running up the stairs, bursting into my room and striding into the room shared by Ian and Papu. Then, Ian, who was as furious as I've seen anyone for many a moon shouted at Papu that he wanted him outside immediately to fight him. He then went downstairs, ignoring my bemused request for information as to what the hell was going on. Ian screamed at Papu to come down and fight or he'd come up and get him. There was a scuffling in the next-door room and sounds of someone making a very quick exit through the kitchen. Ian returned, looked, then demanded (to know) where Papu was. Not finding him out back he headed rapidly downstairs muttering that he'd find the bastard wherever he had hidden. I lay in bed wondering what the devil had angered Ian to these huge proportions. All the(se) events (of the previous page) took no more than 1 minute.
Next Lammy, the brother of the farm owner, was outside shouting for Ian, then him (sic) and Popu came upstairs and demanded of me where Ian was. After telling him I didn't know, to no effect, I was beginning to get riled myself but Lammy gave in, looked through into the other rooms then they both left. After that I was getting ready to go out and help Ian out if needed when he returned, still fuming, and proceeded to tear Papu's bed apart. When he'd reached a lull between kicking doors, beds, punching walls and stamping on Papu's shampoo bottle, he told me in the intervening time (that) he's nutted Lammy after he'd pushed Ian away from where Papu was hiding. For the next few hours Ian was wound up like a time bomb. He pissed on Papu's bed and resigned himself to being sacked then next day, but thrashing Papu first. At a quarter to four Ian had the idea of getting the work done before Lammy arrived at 6am. Sleep for me was out so I donned my boots and we had fed two pig houses before Lammy arrived at around ¼ to 6am. He was exceedingly amicable - possibly because he'd come across, for the first time, a foreign labourer who was not only willing to stand up to him but physically push him out of the way. He built a fire, put on coffee and washed the cups! Then the 3 of us talked in the office (I did more listening than talking). I thought at the time that Ian was talking bullshit a lot, but when placed in the light of events next day, he showed a shrewdness I didn't comprehend then. I went to get some sleep at 6.30(am); Ian did the same ¼hr later.
Author's note: As far as I remember, Ian never explained what had caused his fury (and if he did, I didn't mention it in my diary). However, I surmise that while they were in a bar in Exilo, Papu either tried to kiss him, or made an indecent proposal. Warning! This is NOT something any man should try to do to a male heterosexual working class Geordie, especially not when they're drunk!
Sunday 9th December 1984
Woke up at about a ¼ to 8 to see Papu and Lammy coming through the door to see the carnage that remained of Papu's bed. After making some tea I went out to help load pigs then got stuck into work. When I went 'up top' at 12.30, Lammy smiled at me and Micho (the afternoon boss) asked me unhopefully if I was going too. I surprised him by saying 'no', then joined Ian while he prepared to venture into the world beyond Pigditz. While we had a last cuppa he told me he'd attempted to get to Papu but the Greeks were there in force to protect him and he nearly had a tussle with Micho. As a last attempt to humiliate him, Lammy made him take off the coat Niko had put on his back but he set off, hopefully for a far healthier, more enjoyable had better paid environment. I spent a laid back pm going out to scrump a cabbage, for which I think I got sussed, as an agricultural type arrived on a moped and went to see Micho, but there was no come back. This evening I've got my journal up-to-date and reflected on the moving on of a very good friend, 3 weeks virtually incommunicado in Pigditz and my impending request for a pay rise!
Thursday 13th December 1984
Over 4 months since I left the shores of Britain and I'm still going strong (I should be bloody strong by the time I leave Pigditz after the incredible weights I've been lifting). I now have all the 'bottom' pigs to feed but life isn't too bad as Lammy and Micho treat me with kid gloves. I also have the satisfaction - which I wish Ian could have seen - of watching Fortis (the quack vet) unloading soya and radar* trucks.
Yesterday I went to Korinthos, got (post)cards posted, but that apart, it was an abortive day, cold, windy and all the shops shut. Papu seems to have been broken in body and spirit after the fracas with Ian (deservedly so). Lammy has worked the mill since Monday and I've had the Pigditz penthouse hovel all to myself. Two final pieces good news. I've furthered a friendship with the bloke in Exilo who first helped me to find the Gellis** house, and after some intriguing background work, I asked Micho tonight for a wage rise to 25,000 drachs and he told me (that) for December I'd get 30 thou(sand)!! Brilliant news, I'd be out celebrating if the Radar truck hadn't shagged me out.
* I've no idea what a 'Radar truck' is these days. I can only imagine that it's a product which was fed to the pigs along with the soya pig feed.
** Farm owners.
Saturday 15th December 1984
Went into Korinthos at 7.30, went straight to the 'Pub' with the good music, and was sat at the bar musing over the optics when someone grabbed my shoulders from behind and ducked out of sight every time I turned to see who it was. Turned out to be Petro, the young guy who took over a fraction of the work Ian was doing at Pigditz. His English was as bad as my Greek but he introduced me to his brother, who spoke pretty good English. We sat, talked and drank for a while, then after toasties we went to a disco - the 'Club My Fair' sic, and sick it was. I dislike discos at the best of times but Greek ones seem particularly stultified. Still, we got in for free and I was in good company. We arranged to go to Athens together one night, which sounds like a good crack if it comes off. Peter said (via Jason) that he'd thrown in Pigditz but I can contact him by phone. They saw me to a taxi and I got back to Exilo at about 2.30-3am.
Sunday 16th December 1984
After turning the idea over in my mind for the past month, I finally set out to climb the highest mini-mountain at (the) back of the farm. It took me 2 hours to get to the top, over some quite rough scree, but as always, it was time and effort well-spent. It was a clear day so I could see to Korinth and beyond, and all of the Isthmus (not the canal, though). Scrambled down collecting some lemons en route.
Sunday 23rd December 1984
I've been out on 3 forays from Pigditz in the past week. Tuesday to the Gambler's Bar, where I met Pano and 2 of his friends - a good evening, rounded off by a lift back to the farm on the pillion of a Honda 50!
Friday was a night out in Korinthos, with the same friends, to the 'pub' Grasshopper. Pano drove like the devil was after him and at one stage was swigging down brandy with one hand - the other on the wheel - (while) driving down a busy Korinth street! Some great sounds i.e. a Stranglers session. After a healthy number of beers, a lift back right to the bottom of the stairs at the Hovel*.
Last night, though, was best of all. Took the bus to Korinthos and got settled at the bar of the 'Pub' Senior (the first one I visited in Greece) was later joined by Jason, who suggested going to Loutraki where the disco has a good reputation. We caught the bus to the 'Tropicana' and after some deliberation as to whether we could afford to go in, the 5 of us entered (3 of Jason's friends had joined us). Until 12.30 it was disco music accompanied by the best light show I've seen so far, then they put on an hour of good music - Doors, Dire Straits, Bob Marley inc. We left at 2am and it turned out, as no one else had any money and my friends were talking of attempting to hitch the 10 miles back, I said I'd pick up the tab for a taxi. I must have got back to the penthouse hovel at about 3am this morning. It was an easy morning though, thankfully.
*This demonstrates what I thought of my accommodation at Pigditz.
Wednesday 26th of December 1984 - Boxing Day
Well, pigs have all been fed and after many attempts, Micho was finally able to get me connected to mum in old England. She said Ian had rung so he's obviously go back to the 'yUK'* ok.
Well, well, well, after a short break to shut doors, windows and feed (the) middle pigs, I went into the office to get my chicken jointed and hey presto! Micho handed me 500 Drachma note! Wow! What is Pigditz coming to?
Xmas Eve I went to Korinthos for the 3rd time in 4 days, met Jason and co, but (he) was sat with 2 people I didn't particularly like and when I found I was the only one with beer vouchers** and most of the people I liked had left, I began to get the feeling I was being taken for a ride. Left the Pub Senior for the Grasshopper solo & after an iffy start I was glad I'd gone there as they put the Benny Hill Christmas show on a video (Greek subtitles). After beer and ouzo I found it well worth watching. Wandered off to get a taxi at about 2am dropping the bottle of whisky I'd bought en route, something that made me furious - still no use crying over spilt Johnny Walker Red Label (sniff, sniff, sob, sob, whimper, whimper). Xmas Day I was shattered. Xmas tree looks good though!
* A play on words between 'the UK' and 'Yuk!'
** money
Monday - Tuesday 1st January 1985
After haggling with Micho about my wages (being offered 23,000 and getting 25), I set off for Excretia keriza at around 7pm New Year's Eve. Planned to get 7.30 bus to Korinth but missed it after ouzo, caught the 9.30 bus after beers and got a pizza. Was surprised to find Korinthos (as) dead as a doornail. After being ripped off for 2 whiskeys in the Grasshopper, I got a taxi back and spent the stroke of midnight in a taxi cab (by request) listening to Greek music. Best aspect of the night - after feeding Jimmy, the muppet dog, some bones, was turning on my radio (care of Jo 'n' B - see 3rd Sept. 1984) and hearing U2 - New Year's Day*, Led Zeppelin - Rock 'n' roll*, Rolling Stones - Satisfaction* and Journey - Big wheel in the sky*, on American Forces crap radio, then a hilarious religious channel followed by the Nutcracker Suite* then at 1am a happy new year from Radio Mediterranean!
* You tube video
Thursday 3rd January 1985
I'm slowly building up for takeoff now. Last two days, I started work at 9am or later, just feeding one set of pigs then 'doing a Rocky', which means either nothing at all or watching the automatic feeders. Only me and Papu to unload the last two trucks but as it was my last soya wagon (I plan to leave Monday) it didn't worry me too much. Yesterday evening I went to Exilo intending just to get some shopping done, visited the Gambler's for a beer and met my village friends. They left to go to Korinth then a couple of mins. later Jason returned and invited me along. Supped me beer up and next thing I was in a minivan steaming towards Korinth with 7 villagers. First stop was the Pub Grasshopper, after a couple of bevies we left the pub and they drove to Isthmia and I spent the next hour or so watching pornographic movies at a drive-in cinema (no pun intended). A somewhat out of the ordinary night without a doubt. After all; I got a lift right back to the penthouse.
Sunday 6th January 1985
Last full day at Pigditz. Last night was great, first to the Gambler's Bar where, after a while, I was joined by my village friends. We had 3 ouzos and watched the prawns turn to shrimps on the snack plate. At around 8 (o'clock), Pano drove me to Korinth and we hit the beers in the Grasshopper. then 4 of us drove to Kiato, a city about 25 mins. drive away where we went to a quite posh bar with very good music. 2 lifts back, a fond farewell to Pano, who I got to like a lot, and I hit the hay in the Hovel at 1.30am this morning. I fought off the lethargy to get the feeding done and was just preparing to put my feet up when the job of cleaning water from the grain silos arrived. At first I refused, then in order to give them no legitimate reason not to pay me, I gave Papu a hand. It made me vomit but thankfully it was only an hour-long job.
Wednesday 9th January 1985
Now I'm experiencing "Joy"! Arrived in Athens on Monday after feeding the pigs for the last time. Booked into the Hotel Joy, which has a good atmosphere and the English language prevails. Last night I went to an Athenian club with a live band. They only did cover versions but were skilful and had a musical taste similar to mine. (The) Ouzo was very expensive but I drank only 2 in the 3½hrs there. Got back to the hotel at 1.30. Did some sightseeing yesterday too, got a good view of Athens and (the) Acropolis from a hill just south of it.
Friday 11th January 1985
I caught the boat from Pireaus yesterday at 3pm after a quiet night at the hostel. I went out to see the film 'Rear Window' at a local cinema. (It was) A good film and welcome to see a film in English. I parked my rucksack on the top deck (of the boat) under a shelter and have a Norwegian girl, Dinah, for a neighbour. I like her a lot so I shall be content for the next few days.
Sunday 13th January 1985
Arrived in Haifa, Israel at around 7.30am after an extremely enjoyable crossing. I got to know and love Dinah, who I spent most of my voyage with. Explored Rhodes by myself and found my way into the castle by going through a partly hidden entrance and climbing the first 15-20 steps (in a tower) in pitch black. It was well worth it though because from the top of the turret I got a great view of the town. Most nights there was a sing song around a talented guitar player (who knew quite a few Neil Young songs) and it wasn't cold underneath the blue shelter (tarpaulin) on the top deck. Yesterday we stopped at Limassol for 4 hours; the town was grotty compared with Rhodes. I accompanied my 3 Norwegian friends to a church where I was amazed to see the worshipers going round kissing all the pictures! Next, as the Norwegian couple wanted to head back to the ship long before necessary, I led the way into a Cypriot version of an English pub. After much discussion and deliberation over the state of the drachma compared with the Cypriot pound - helped by a Scottish bloke at the bar, the two Norwegian girls and myself sat down with just one beer between the 3 of us (100 drachs a bottle - 70p) but the Scottish blokes, on seeing 2 attractive women not drinking, bought another 2 bottles in spite of the blank response they got from the girls. After 5 minutes, Dinah and myself were left alone as the other Norwegian girl didn't drink or smoke(!!!), and went back to the boat. Left Limassol with no desire to return. Last night I did an extra special soup for the two of us, there was a party atmosphere (inc. the cheese 'n' bread song!) but I got very little sleep largely due to a disco playing Hi Ho silver lining* and Auld Lang Syne* over and over, and my own reflections after a wander round the deck where the moon on the sea was a magnificent sight - plus shooting star. I must have slept from 3 until 6, when it was time to get my possessions together. I was a bit apprehensive going through Israeli customs with only £45 English money and drachmas, which seem to be worthless outside Greece and not worth much inside the country, but there was no hassle. After getting badly ripped off for 3 coffees, Dinah and I caught the bus to Tel Aviv. She was going straight to Elat so I fondly kissed her farewell and after a nightmare bus ride, arrived at the Green House Hostel, but I've yet to find out whether it will become my temporary abode due to lack of management.
* You tube video
Monday 14th January 1985
I now have a place on (a) Moshav, which I shall go to tomorrow. Didn't have a very good night's kip last night because in the bed next to mine there was a very effeminate bloke who started moaning in the middle of the night, despite my telling him to shut up. I've now moved to Darrel's Happy Hostel, closer to the centre of Tel Aviv (and) with a better atmosphere.
Tuesday 15th January 1985
Darrel's was a good hostel; cheaper and with a better atmosphere that the Green House. This morning I caught the bus from Tel Aviv to my Moshav at Idan. I caught the wrong bus by accompanying an Australian girl, which meant a 5km walk across the desert. The bloke I'm working for was waiting at the bus stop and he seems a good bloke. He cooked food for me and I've moved into a room with 2 people that I reckon I will be able to get on well with for the next few weeks.
Saturday 26th January 1985
Been at the Moshav for close on 2 weeks now. Work 6 days a week and get very pissed the night before my day off. There was a disco at the bomb shelter bar on the last of these nights (Wednesday last). There was a minor party in our room first with beer bottles and volunteers getting smashed, then briefly to room 5 before hitting the disco. I walked in trying to keep a low profile (I'd heard an entrance fee mentioned), was there 3 seconds before I dropped a full beer bottle on the ground! It was a good night, well, what I can remember of it was. The bottle of vodka I drunk (sic) made sitting on the plastic drum 'stools' impossible. I fell off my seat at least 3 times! Apparently, after knocking some more beers over I was helped back to my room by Rob and Glen.
My second night on the Moshav was spent enjoying a candle lit dinner with the girls in Room 5. After food, to the bar with Carmela and Tracey. Work is hard but all the easier because I like Moritzio, the farmer I work for, and respect him for working at least as hard, and often faster than I do. Last night I went for a meal with Lynn, the other volunteer working for Moritzio, at his house. It was a scrumptious 3 course meal with a good discussion afterwards. Then to the bar until 2.10am chatting with Chris, Shane and a Canadian girl. Was up this morning at ¼ to 7 for work.
Monday 28th January 1985
I've done tomato picking for the last 2 days, just me and Moritzio. The day after my last entry was the worst so far; planting melon seeds (3hrs non-stop bent double), then following the tractor shoring up the sides of the plastic cloches. I've become friends with a German girl, but regretfully she's leaving on Wednesday. Tonight she brought round some home-made pizza, I gave her the tomatoes and the results were delicious. I think I'll get drunk tonight for a change - that's if I don't owe the bar too many beers.
Sunday 3rd February 1985
Nearly 3 weeks worked on the Moshav, (and) they have flown by. Moritzio has pulled a muscle in his knee, so I now do all the tractor driving and work with Rhona (his wife) and Lynn. Without Moritzio the pace has slowed dramatically - no longer frantic - but my hours have increased (7am - 6.30pm on average). Outside work, there's one disco a week and apart from that the bar's seldom open.
Sunday 10th February 1985
Both Rob and Glen have now left Idan, Rob by choice (and), Glen sacked after walking off the tomato field. Nightlife has been quiet apart from the Wednesday night discos. I stayed at the bar until 5 past 4am after the last one and was woken by Moritzio at ten past 7. Friday and the 3 days before I was working with 5 Israeli friends of Moritzio. They were good people, laughing, joking and dancing between the rows of tomatoes. (Later) Rhona cooked up another delicious Shabbat meal, then yesterday I cycled to a petrol station/cafe, met John, Glen, Scott, Mike, Adi and Chris, and spent the day drinking beers + vodka. We all got drunk then I broke up a fight starting between Chris and a bus driver (who apparently pulled a knife), then cycled back, visited the girls in Room 5 then hit the hay. This morning I felt like death cooled down and picked ultra-slow for the morning session.
Monday 18th February 1985
Time has hammered past on the Moshav, people have left and new ones arrived and I've had a 3 day holiday in Jerusalem. I set off on Thursday morning with Kai, a German girl I've got to like a lot. We walked to the main rd (and) met Gus, Craig, Avril and another. Kai and I stayed on the bus 'till Beersheva, she went off to visit her old Kibbutz while I caught a bus to Jerusalem, booked into (the) Mr A's hostel then started exploring the old city. After 10mins. I heard my name; it was Shane and Adi; I went to their hostel to surprise John then returned to Mr A's. There I was told the place shut at 8pm! (Then) I went to the bar where I'd arranged to meet my fellow 'Idaners'. Left after many a beer to get my sleeping bag, determined not to go to bed before I was ready, returned to the Open Sesame bar and got more drunk then left at 11 for the hostel Shane &co were staying at. Had (an) argument with the owner, then left for Mr A's, it was pouring with rain so after using the door as a drum for 15mins I clambered up the wall from window shade to shade - 20ft, across the roof and jumped down to get to my bed at midnight. Next day I moved to the Tobasco, it was raining again so I was resting on the bed when who should walk in but Mike & Chris from the Moshav. Went to (the) bar then next day got chased out of the church of the Holy Sepulchre by a monk with a big stick! We were killing time until our bus left so we went to see the church. There was this wooden shrine in the middle of the main hall (and) I was moseying round it when I spotted this monk in a little cubby hole, he invited me in and told me to touch this step, which I did to humour him, then he gave me a piece of paper with a flower & prayer on it (and a small wooden cross) and asked me for a donation. I told him I was skint so he took back his cross and prayer and I left to explain the incident to puzzled Mike 'n' Chris. We continued to explore the church, went down some steps and were looking at some pictures when a monk came up to us and shouted something about the mosaic we were standing on. He followed us, still ranting and raving, (so) we went up the stairs, but decided to return to see the rest of the church. When the monk saw us again he had another fit then went & picked up a rod the size of a barge pole and brandished it at us - I thought it was time to leave the church! Returned to the Open Sesame after walking up to the Dome of the Rock & Wailing Wall then made our way to the bus station. I cooked soup, got the bus to Beershiva at 6pm then after numerous attempts to phone Moritzio we resigned ourselves to the 6 hour wait for the bus to Idan. Managed some sleep on a bench, arrived (at the) end of the road at 3am, had to climb the main gate*, slept at 4 until 6, when it was time to go to work.
*This was no mean feat because the Moshav was constructed like military base encircled by a high wire fence.
Thursday 14th March 1985
Coming up to 2 months here. I've been sacked and unsacked for missing a day after a party. Purim was good, in fact I shall go into more detail........
Wednesday 6th March 1985
Purim is an annual festival during which it is socially acceptable for Jewish people to do what the volunteers do all the time i.e. wear silly costumes and get drunk. I made a strange mask, cut a pair of jeans to make dreadlocks and wore a tablecloth. Had a laugh with Scots Mike, who used my felt (tipped) pen to draw a Graucho Marx face then found that it was indelible ink and he'd still have blue eyebrows & (mous)tache the next day in Elat! It was a good party with lots of people in fancy dress, left at 2am.
Thursday 7 March 1985
Went to work at ten to 7, was alone in the valley until 10 but was the only volunteer there all day. Finished at 12.30, showered, packed my rucksack and was able to get a lift to the bus stop. Caught the Jerusalem bus at 3.30. The Dead Sea was beautiful, with lumps of salt floating in it and at one point perfectly reflecting the mountains and hotels on the shore. I'd arranged to meet Kai at the Open Sesame at 6 but a bus driver told me his bus went to the old city then drove miles away. Got a taxi, meeting Kai at 7. We stayed for the 'happy hour' then booked into the Tobasco and returned again to meet Jane from (the) Moshav.
Friday 8th March 1985
After making coffee, we went in search of Dire Straits tickets, were disappointed to find they wouldn't be available 'till the end of the month, booked out tickets back, (then) back to the old city where we ate some sweet, savoury of Arab derivation and met Terry and Josey (Lynn's roommates) in a shop. We had to get an Arab bus to Bethlehem, which was an experience in itself. The bus was very old and it was weird to see the driver hunched over the wheel in Arab headdress. Bethlehem was a tourist trap of the worst kind i.e. King David and Jesus Cinema & Good Shepherd's Store. We went in to see the place where Jesus was meant to be born then walked out of the town a bit and rested on a peaceful hillside with a great view. Came across a detachment of the Ghanan army a couple of times, took a look at the 'Milk Grotto' then after coffee caught a much less interesting bus back to Jerusalem. Walked around the city and made an unsuccessful attempt to find the Holy Sepulchre again, then back to the Open Sesame where the atmosphere was a bit heavy with a very loud Irishman sat to Kai's right. Before the Sesame, we tried Champs Bar but neither of us liked it much - too loud, brash and winebarish. We found we'd both moved rooms at the Tobasco, Kai had a room to herself so I moved in with her. Got a brill pizza from an Arab bakery!
Saturday 9th March 1985
Our last day in Jerusalem. After some bread and choc. spread, and witnessing an apparent heart attack, we walked around the walls of the old city, toured the Holy Sepulchre and climbed the Mount of Olives to watch the sun go down over Jerusalem.
Back to the Tobasco, I did one of my 'stewps'* then we set off for the Israel Museum where '1984' was being shown. I lost my way so to get us there on time we took a taxi. Film was good, after(wards) we made our way back to the Sesame and were the last two to leave (the bar).
*A combination of stew and soup cooked up by Viv on his portable petrol stove.
Sunday 10th March 1985
After coffee we were a few minutes late to get into the Dome of the Rock, so we made our way to the bus station. There I met the Australian girl who accompanied me on the bus journey from Tel Aviv to Idan (See January 15th). From the bus stop at the main road we walked for 10 minutes before hitching a lift in a lorry which dropped us off right outside my front door.
Monday 11th March 1985
Kai's birthday; was invited round for onion cake and party in Room 6 then to the bar 'till 2am. Next day I cooked her a spaghetti bolognese. 'Star Trek' was the film on the next night, and tonight (the 14th) it's an early night for me as I was at the bar 'till 4.30am yesterday.
Friday 29th March 1985
Time has flown by once again. I've been sacked and rehired in the same day, picked thousands of tomatoes and now I'm running the Moshav Bar. Thursday before last I took a day trip to Elat, met Chris & John and spent a relaxing day on the beach. Many friends have left the Moshav but some good people have arrived and work has got easier now that it is no longer the interminable tomatoes.
Friday 5 April 1985
Last week has been a good one, disco Wednesday night, which went well, with me behind the bar until 2.30am. Today I am in Netanya. I have 4 days off for Passover so am doing some sightseeing in the north of Israel. I got a lift here with Moritzio and family. Caught a train to Akko*, a walled crusader port. Lack of sleep accumulated over the last 2 weeks at Idan began catching up on me, dozed on the beach just outside the old city then booked in(to) the youth hostel. I planned to see some of the nightlife but went to bed at 5pm, woke at 10pm, then slept through 'till 8.
* Called 'Acre' in English.
Saturday 6th April 1985
Set off walking along the coast north of Akko, sun shone, stopped and sat on the fortifications overlooking the impressive sea wall and reef, walked further and found a beautiful lagoon, sunbathed and collected shells for a couple of hours then continued north to Nahariya. The coast is the most unclean I've seen in all my travels, most of it looked like a rubbish tip and some of it actually was. I came to the conclusion it was a deliberate ploy by the Isrealis. If the PLO landed by boat, they'd forget about invading and start sorting through the junk! Was unimpressed by Nahariya so got (a) bus back to Akko then another to Safat*. Total contrast to the Israel I've seen so far, in the mountains overlooking the Sea of Galillee. I've booked into a youth hostel which is exorbitant (7 grand) but as I'm not equipped to doss and I've earnt my hols who cares!
* Called 'Safed' in English.
Monday 8th of April 1985
I am now sat on the beach at Tel Aviv in the sun contemplating a swim, I went to the cinema on my night in Zefat (see Saturday 6th April 1985) - 'Greystoke' was an average film with good make-up effects. Had some hassle when the chambermaid discovered an Isreali Youth Hostel blanket that I'd lifted from Akko, but nothing that some fast talking couldn't put right. I donated (it) to Zefat Y.H. in the end! From there to Tiberius, was unimpressed so moved to Nazareth, which I nearly missed by talking with a Swedish girl on the bus. Next stop, Tel Aviv. Booked into Darrel's hostel then to the Gypsie Bar, few beers then went to see 'Metropolis' at the flicks, it's a brilliant film, I sat in the front row and was mesmerized for 2 hours. After the film I went back to the 'Gypsie', sat in a corner savouring my beer and next thing I was being seduced by an attractive Israeli girl. We had virtually nothing to talk about as she couldn't speak English nor me Hebrew but body language did the trick. Made my way back to Darrel's in the early hours, had to wake someone up to let me in and now I'm skint and enjoying the beach until my bus back to Idan departs.
Thursday 11th April 1985
Cycled out to Ovot Springs* again, failed to turn the water on so returned.
* This was an Artesian well in the middle of the desert, where, if you knew how, you could release a fountain of underground water from a pipe.
Thursday 17th April 1985
Bussed & hitched to Dead Sea, floated & returned meeting Danish girls en route.
Thursday 25th April 1985
Lynn has left and I've been sacked again! This is how it happened....................................
last Tuesday I went to the bar early 'cos it was Remembrance Day, and on the way back to my room met Barbara, I thought there was a party somewhere, enquired where, and was told Room No. 1 - my room. Returned to find just 4 people there, Tim and Carolla arrived then a steady stream of people until the room was packed (21 people). Tatoo John arrived, Carolla and Anna played guitar and everyone got smashed, I fell unconscious around 2 (?) (question mark in the original diary). Was meant to work at 7 but was not compos mentis. Woke at 11, went round to Moritzio's (and) was fired, which this time I accepted without batting an eyelid*. Returned, did a deal with T. John and spent the rest of the day laid back, arranged the where with all for a disco that night, did a tour of the Ghetto**, then back to being bar tender for the last time. It was a good night (foot long spliff), danced and cuddled with Marie 'till 5, was up at 9 hoping that the cassette player still worked - I was threatened with hanging if it didn't - it did. Today is Independence Day, there was a barbecue, now I must get some sleep to be in form for my last night.
* The previous time I'd been sacked for not being able to get up in time for work, I had to beg for my job back because I didn't have enough money saved to get home again, and this pissed me off because in the past, I'd worked extra hours when Moritzio had injured his knee (see Sunday 3rd February 1985) and felt that I deserved some slack.
** The nickname for the row of small flats where the volunteers lived.
Friday 26th April 1985
Said 'adieu' to good friends, hugs from Canadian Janet, Jo Anne & Barbara; last trip to No. 9b, last J by the fire with Laurent, Anna & Derek, sang 'Anarchy in the UK' & 'God save the Queen', then next morning went to see Rhona. Walked out of Idan, meaning I had to get a lift to the bus stop to get a bus in time to catch the bank in Beersheva. Met two attractive Israeli girls at the stop (a car gave me a lift with 10mins. to spare!) then the bus sailed straight past us full. A bit later the girls hitched a UN car, the 3 of us climbed aboard, we speeded off, I was given a beer and cigarette, overtook the bus and were dropped off where the road splits to the Dead Sea. The bus arrived again after a while and this time we climbed on. Got to the bank 10mins. before it shut for Shabbat then came to Jerusalem, booked into Tobascos and got very drunk in the Open Sesame. On returning to the hostel the police were in with some girls who had been robbed, had one beer over the 8 and crashed, spluttering my way up the stairs.
Saturday 27 - Tuesday 30th April 1985
Woke late and spent a quiet day buying bits & pieces for the voyage to Greece, souvenirs etc. Got an early night and left Jerusalem at 10am next morning. Arrived (in) Haifa at 12.30 not knowing when the boat sailed or even if it had already done so. Departure time as it turned out was 8pm (officially!). Met and boarded with Shiela, got (a) pleasant surprise at customs where I was expecting a heavy fine and/or Israeli stamp (in my passport), got past without either. There are far more people on the 'Sol Phrayne' this time but a good atmosphere just the same. Met Lynn, Bee and John from Idan and enjoyed Limassol yesterday - trip round the castle and back to the church where the picture kissing was going on as it was outward bound (see Sunday 13th January 1985). Due to stop in Rhodes in a bit, look(ing) forward to returning to the land of retsina, suvlaki, ouzo and drachs!
Wednesday 1st May 1985
Arrived Pireaus, parted from Sheila, who I'd spent most of the voyage with, including a trip through my secret entrance into the castle at Rhodes (See Sunday 13th January), which struck me as a beautiful place that I hope to return to for a length of time. There was hassle when we docked at Rhodes with them calling out small groups of people to collect passports by number (like 'Bingo!'). Met Lynn off the boat and we caught the train to Victoria Square & booked once more into Joys (I was remembered from before). At Pireaus metro stn, I advised Lynn to buy a ticket from a machine, she pressed a button with what I thought was station names in Greek and what should appear but a cup of coffee with milk & sugar!!!! Spent the night chatting with a couple of Danes - good people.
Thursday 2nd May 1985
Awoke in a room with Lynn & 2 beautiful French girls, went into town, bought Dire Straits ticket for Monday and Magic Bus ticket for Tuesday - looks like I'll arrive in London without a penny - c'est la vie.
Friday 3rd May 1985
Cashed my last remaining traveller's cheque, which I'd got quite attached to over the 9 months it had stayed with me, then climbed Lycabettus Hill, the largest hill in Athens (at least twice the height of the Acropolis). The view from the top was magnificent, a panorama of the whole of Athens. In the evening I searched for a cinema with 'The Killing Fields' on, but after a long and frustrating search I discovered they were on strike. Said 'adieu' to my two Danish friends - met (them) at 'Joys' bar).
Saturday 4th May 1985
Woke at 6.10am and saw Lynn down to her bus stop, bus was delayed so we sat in Syntagma Squ(are) for a couple of hours. In pm I got the metro to the stadium where Dire Straits play and sunbathed most of the pm, this evening I'll squander a few more precious drachmas (precious!!?!) - amended, scarce drachmas on the Killing Fields - watched anti-fascist Greek dancing insteead.
Sunday 5th May 1985
Went down to the Acropolis thinking it would be free (on) Sundays - no such luck, swarms of tourists though - yuk, back to Joys for dinner. Listened to Weather Report on German George's walkman then Mercedes arrived, we got stoned then I went to the flicks and watched 'The Killing Fields', a powerful film that I thought deserved a second viewing - was at the cinema from 4.45 - 10pm then back to hotel for a beer, more blow, listened to Bob Marley then retired. My trip is drawing to a close in a good way.
Monday 6th May 1985
Quiet day but great night, took metro out to the stadium (in Pireaus) at around 5pm, drank the remains of the whiskey Lynn left me and after sitting on the quayside for an hour or so I entered the arena, running the gauntlet of hundreds of Greek police who seemed to outnumber the audience. It was a spectacular venue and Dire Straits rose to the occasion, they played just the right mixture of old and new tracks - Romeo and Juliet, Tunnel of love, Private investigations*. I thought I had bought a ticket for a seat but when I got inside I realised that there was standing room in front of the stage. After the band had played a few tracks I was able to get within about 10 people from the stage. After a great set they did 2 encores, 'Solid Rock'* was the second, to which I and those around boogied like mad, finished (with) the theme from local hero**. I found 30 drachs on the ground on the way out, which paid for my metro back to town. I collected my rucksack from the hotel at 11.45pm and moved to the basement of a multi-storey car park (no funds from another night of "Joy"! Apart from a visit from a cat in the small hours it wasn't a bad night's kip.
* This link is to a You Tube video of this song.
** Once upon a time in the West.
2nd and longest stage of (my) return journey started today. I had coffee in the car park, got provisions then boarded the Magic Bus bound for London. It's difficult to distinguish the days as sleep can only be grabbed intermittently during relatively flat, straight stretches of road. My watch now says Wed. 9.25pm, I'm in Italy & have just misappropriated 2 bars of chocolate from a service station, hope to be in London tomorrow pm.
Thursday 9th May 1985
First customs hassle between France & Luxembourg - fucking French searched (us) on exit & now, 15yds further on, the Luxembourgers are holding us up.
Final dash to Zeebrugge completed, comfy boat boarded at 10 to 4, departed 5 to 4! When we got to Dover we found that the one person to miss the boat was the Magic Bus courier! Got through customs ok after making some reverse charges calls for assistance. Courier caught a freighter and arrived an hour later. Coach took us to Victoria - arrived 10.30pm. I tried to ring Janet wwithout success so I found ½ a discarded tube ticket and bluffed my way past the inspector at Paddington. Rang mum collect again and accepted the ticket and £1 she'd bought for me in Bath. Caught the train to Bristol, fell asleep on route (and) had the luck I needed: when I boarded the train I asked a bloke sat beside me if the train was going to Temple Meads, even though I knew it was. It was a good move because when the train docked in Bristol I was sound asleep! Luckily he woke me and I scrambled off the train, thanking him on my way! Mum & Jack were waiting the other side of the barrier and I was driven home eating a butty with a glass of milk en route.
It was good to get home again after 8½ months of work and travel covering 9 countries (England, France, Italy, Greece, Israel, Yugoslavia, Switzerland, Luxembourg and Belgium), and putting me in touch with some wonderful people - a letter from Ian was waiting for me upon my return.
Two weeks have gone by now since my return. Mum's cooking has brought me up to full strength and I'm now ready to revisit old friends around the country before making plans for my next trip abroad!
