PILGRIMAGE TO INDIA; 1976



The following diary, written between September 1976 and January 1977, tells the story of what was conceived at the time as a pilgrimage. (Indeed I took with me a book called ‘A Pilgrim’s Guide to Planet Earth’). It was a journey that had no planning. Less than a week previously I’d had an unusual experience while very stoned at the house of my psychedelic friends Steve and Calla who had themselves, maybe a year before, under the influence of LSD, become very ecstatic and convinced that an underlying spirituality and magic(k) ruled one’s life. The books of Baba Ram Dass, Timothy Leary, Castenada and John Lilly, along with the music of the Moody Blues, Jefferson Airplane and Ravel, informed their thinking. Of course I read the same stuff and, typically, became intellectually curious while experientially barren. After reading Yogananda’s autobiography I thought that maybe his was a path I could follow and I enrolled in a correspondence course provided by his organization, which taught meditation techniques, affirmations, prayers and spiritual attitudes.

On the evening in question in September 1976 I was meditating with Steve and Calla after smoking excellent Afghani hash, while listening to the Moody Blues and Jefferson Airplane’s ‘Have you Seen the Stars Tonite?’ when my head and body began to shake and I experienced an inner energy I’d not before, and even though my eyes were shut I felt my head lifting and it seemed as if the sun were rising inside my own body. For a short while I felt joyful and then I heard a voice inside me say, ‘Go to India, find a Guru, put god to the test.’

Probably if I had been on my own that would have been the end of it because I had no desire to do any of those things and I didn’t really believe that what had happened had any real significance. It was telling Steve and Calla about it that caused something to occur because they were so positive and enthusiastic about my following my instruction. Somehow just a few days later I’d borrowed £50 from my startled and worried parents and commenced my trip with no expectation of getting anywhere but with two destinations in mind if I did: 1) the Yogananda Ashram in India and 2) Cardinal Gracias of Bombay.

I had a short list of self-imposed instructions - such as hitch whenever possible and accept every lift wherever it goes; only eat after sunset unless given food first: repeat daily affirmations and prayers from my Yogananda book; only turn back if given no choice: a copy of aforesaid Pilgrims Guide, a sleeping-bag that doubled as a rucksack and was held together by a piece of rope, a change of clothes and a semi-precious ring that I had decided I would leave at the Ashram in Ranchi.

Thus empowered I set off.

‘A warrior takes his lot, whatever it may be, and accepts it in ultimate humbleness.

He accepts in humbleness what he is, not as grounds for regret but as a living challenge. A warrior is impeccable.’ – Don Juan

Exalted truth imposes upon us

Heat and cold, grief and pain,

Terror and weakness of wealth and body

Together, so that the coin of our innermost being

Becomes evident. –Jalaludin Rumi

Five Rules

1. Non-injury

2. Non-theft

3. Non-greed

4. Truthfulness

5. Spiritual Conduct.

Affirmations

‘I’ am a Centre. Around me revolves my world.

‘I’ am a Centre of Influence and Power.

‘I’ am a Centre of Thought and Consciousness.

‘I’ am Independent of the Body.

‘I’ am Immortal and cannot be Destroyed.

‘I’ am Invincible and cannot be injured.

THE TRIP

Monday September 13th 1976

One o’clock in the morning. Am sitting, cramped, with cigarette in hand, writing by torchlight in an old A30 car, about 30 miles from Paris. My sleeping companion is John, a sixty-year-old Scot escaping tragedy with a fantasy of screwing a lady in gay Paree. He’s been really nice. Picked me up in Canterbury where I was getting soaked. My luggage is a problem, nylon rope cutting my shoulder & constantly coming off the sleeping bag. Crazy journey down following fast moving lorries in the night. John has bought me food and drink. Already have gone somewhere I wasn’t meaning to go. Meant to go to Belgium. Didn’t even get time to have spare passport photos done. Would welcome some sleep. Is all very strange. Say a prayer every time I pass a church.

THE DAY DOMINIC CROSSED THE CHANNEL

Tuesday September 14th

Tonight when I need more than ever to meditate and to draw down the grace of my guru, I quit after a few tired seconds to write this and go to bed. Really it has been a good, magical and fortunate day but I’m sitting here on the verge of crying: bad emotional fear ruling me. I want to go home. Have lost my torch, seems indicative of darkness to come. God help me, Yogananda help me.

Early this morning arrived in Paris with John. At about 5a.m. we parted company. Walking into a café to ask for Paris I was helped by a guy called Giles who took me to his home where I have stayed most of the day. Went into Paris with him; saw some artists painting which was good. Also went into a fabulous church which I felt I’d been missing. Giles is out now. I’m going to have an early night with a prayer in my heart that I can realize the joy of having my guru teach and protect me. I need it tonight. I’m hoping it is the tiredness and with god’s love I’ll feel better when I awake. Hope I find my torch.

THE DAY DOMINIC WENT TO PARIS

Wednesday Sept 15th

Dana’s birthday. Just awoken, feeling better. Today’s prayer: Divine Mother, teach me to recharge my body, mind and soul with Thine unlimited, all healing light which is within me.

..Now 1 a.m. In a motorway café at Mannheim with a Czech guy. It is raining outside. We don’t know what to do. Today I spent 7 cold hours waiting for a lift outside Paris. Happy birthday Dana. Then got two lifts, the second fast and smooth with a man from Sudan and his German girlfriend. Recovered my spirits. They bought me a meal and tea. Ended the day here as Thursday begins. THE DAY DOMINIC WAITED SEVEN HOURS FOR A LIFT OUTSIDE PARIS.

Thursday September 16th

About midday. Am in the hut by the woods in Stuttgart and my thoughts go back to last year. Can not get of my head the pain of Barby. But the story. Spent the night in the café with the Czech guy. Slept a bit. Was warm, contented. Was raining this morning so continued sitting around till it eased off. (Text unreadable). Then another hitchhiker got me stoned. Was laughing, feeling gay. Almost immediately got a lift to Stuttgart, straight to Botnang! In heavy rain and mist. Exciting and joyful. Felt overrewarded. My prayers haven’t brought this to me. Is grace not karma.

Am about to have a joint with Tommy’s brother. Tommy not here yet. Thinking a lot about Steve and Calla. Their love must be so strong. I had a strange dream last night which I don’t remember very well. It was unusual in that I was in it but not the main character. Two little girls (out of a number of girls all dressed in white) were talking. One was telling the other she was leaving the district. It wasn’t true but the second girl was really unhappy about it. I experienced it from her point of view. Very strange.

{Writing this Saturday.} Well I thought the day was pretty (sussed?) especially when Stefan and Barney reckoned a job would come together in France. B&S went out. I closed my eyes to mediate, then, thinking of food, I looked up to see the hut on fire. Frantic efforts to put it out failed. Recovering my stuff, minus my glasses, I stand and watch the fire with detachment. Then the police arrive, take me and my things, ask me questions and then put me in a cell with an Italian guy. I think I’m there for protective custody while they find my friends whose house has just burned down.

THE DAY OF THE FIRE.

Friday September 17th

Soon in the morning discover am gaoled with no guarantee of imminent release. A bit freaky. Undrinkable coffee, mouldy bread and fag-ends for breakfast. Photos and fingerprints taken: “We are only the technicians.” Time drags by. I stand up. Next thing I know I’m on the floor, head bleeding, fighting off terror and trying not to freak out. So slowly, it seems, I’m taken to hospital where they put stitches in my head, bed me and say they want to test me for epilepsy. Head hurts. I try to sleep, to keep calm. Wondering if anyone will come to see me. Later the policeman arrives with a translator and releases me from custody. Doesn’t know anything about my friends.

THE DAY DOMINIC HAD EPILEPSY IN PRISON.

Saturday September 18th

With aching head and having been told to go back to England, the hospital let me go. A doctor gave me 10 marks. I got my things from the police station and came to Botang in the vague hope of finding Tommy. Magically he appeared in five minutes. I’m really pleased to see him. Now we wait in a friend’s home hoping Stefan will appear equally magically and tell me to go to France tomorrow. Otherwise?

My head hurts.

After much smoking and walking and taking care of my body, Stefan turns up and says we hitch to France on Monday. I don’t think it’d be wise to go on to India with my head like this so France is a good place to be while I recover (hopefully). Tommy and friends don’t seem to blame me for the fire and are happy to have me in (freedom?). Really don’t want to go to prison or hospital again. Finally go to sleep in Stuttgart, very late. Saying prayers when I remember but unable to find the space to meditate.

THE DAY DOMINIC LEFT HOSPITAL AND FOUND TOMMY..

Sunday September 19th

After sleeping at Tommy’s place in Stuttgart spent the day in a group wandering around here and there in the woods getting stoned. Feel that Tommy is in trouble with his vivacious but doubtful girlfriend. My head is becoming more comfortable. Tomorrow I will set off with Stefan to the South of France, the opposite way to India. Have written a letter to Steve and Calla but not posted it yet. There are a few hours left but I guess it is safe to say SUNDAY IN THE FOREST.

Monday September 20th

Hitching not very far with Stefan. Long waits. Great joy in the evening when got stoned and was momentarily in the here and now. Words in my head saying, I am not my voice or my photographer.’ The night was not so bad. A NIGHT OF SEEING.

Tuesday September 21st

Slow hitching. A cold night out in Berne. Sent postcard to Jade.

THE DAY DOMINIC ARRIVED IN SWITZERLAND.

Wednesday September 22nd

Finally arrived by train from Lausanne to a sunny place. I pay the fares and buy the food, spending money in advance and now discover there is to be no work. All that money spent, none to come, on a fruitless journey. Don’t know what to do now.

-Am thinking thoughts now merely because I have the time and warmth to write. No plan has formulated yet. I’ll be here another day or two with or without work. My head is much better but I’ve developed a cold and bad cough. The cough reacts badly to the cold clear Swiss air. If no work comes I’ll aim for Chur.

-Seen that I have developed an attachment to my money. I must be careful of that. I have prayed less today. Do I have to be down and out before praying?

-Am much admiring of the german (physique?). Am very pleased to have Stefan as a guide to this part of the journey. Still thinking and dreaming of Barby. Judy in Stuttgart turned me on and produced more wonderful and weird nighttime dreams. THE DAY THERE WAS NO WORK IN NYON.

Thursday September 23rd.

Was just thinking that if I go to Chur I’ll try and borrow some money to have my beard (?)shaved off. Today has been relaxed and easy, messing about Nyon, looking at the lake and flashing on being by Galilee. Tried to go to Geneva but couldn’t get a lift. Pirette gave us money so I bought an envelope and stamp so I can at long last post my letter to Steve and Calla. No news of work yet, maybe on the road again tomorrow. No meditation yet. These are social days (which is, I guess, a poor excuse). Tried to visit a Sufi place mentioned in my book but couldn’t find them. My cold continues, runny nose etc. THE DAY DOMINIC LOOKED DOWN ON LAKE GENEVA.

Friday September 24th

So it goes. An early morning telephone call & we’re off to work picking grapes high above Lake Geneva. Very hot. Enjoyed every minute of it – except when I got paranoid about the speed of my work. Was really good. And as much food as you can eat every 2 and a half hours. Have never seen people eat so much. Not that I starved myself. And wine all the time. A good day. In the evening we stayed out at the farm, penniless, bookless, diaryless. Went to bed where I dreamed of the war in Lebanon, Aleister Crowley, Idi Amin and other strange things. THE DAY DOMINIC WENT TO WORK ON THE GRAPES.

Saturday September 25th

Much the same as yesterday except we finished at 6p.m. 80 Swiss francs richer. Back to Pirette and (?) who has packed in his job. Someone else’s story and not so happy. Tomorrow maybe I go somewhere, maybe I don’t. What I really need is rope for my bag but tomorrow is Sunday and I imagine the shops will be shut. Must post my letter to Steve and Calla. THE DAY I EARNED 80 FRANCS.

Sunday September 26th

More strange dreams; one about Christmas in which Steve and Calla had given me a history book but I just couldn’t see the magic in it. Anyway soon after waking Stefan and I conferred and decided we should leave. Pirette and Rato (?) were really nice. I owe them karma and like always I feel that all I have to offer is my prayers. Stefan and I parted at Nyon. I felt like visiting Geneva, maybe sussing out the Sufis before aiming for Chur tomorrow. To my surprise I was almost immediately spirited to Genf (?) & for a bonus a pipe of nice smoke. Then a bottle of wine opposite the lake. Felt very high. The guy went & I set off in the direction of the Sufis and the old cathedral. I’ve really been feeling the desire to visit a church. Thereupon I was met by a Malaysian guy who against my conscious will took me down back to the lake. Only later did I come to the conclusion he had been sent by the Sufis. He is a traveller – been on the road 18 months. At first I thought the message was to go to Fribourg and work but then he recommended me to speed up, wanted me going right around the world! Then he said I could stay in his room overnight. He has fed me. I have a headache but that could be no glasses, or my diet, or my head, just no telling.

-Has been really nice with this guy Mike: I’ve been as open as I’ve ever been with anyone. Been able to tell of my trip, even to talk of christ who I felt danced with Stefan. Went to bed but was woken up by a late visitor whose presence made my free room cost six francs. THE DAY I MET MIKE.

Monday 27th September

Writing this late in the evening and am tired and not able to adequately describe a mad day. Arose quite early and made good time to Montreux when I finally decided to take the freaky route rather than the ‘safe’ road via Zurich. On this trip I’m constantly reminded of the Aslan quote, ‘You never know what would have happened’. [Just remembered that last night found it very hard to sleep and when I did I had erotic dreams.} Anyway I then got a lift from a loony Swiss guy who detoured to deliver some cookers (?) and have a meal in his caravan, plus wine and cognac. He took me to Martigny, the beginning of the mountain journey. Seemed quite possible that, mountains permitting, I’d get to Chur tomorrow. Becoming attached to the idea of seeing Dick and Estee which is maybe why I then got a lift to a small village called Saxone. There I got out of the car and was immediately apprehended by a Belgian guy called Joe. He seems quite young. He has been living in a free hut around here and wanted company to look for work or go to Geneva. Well I was keen on continuing my journey but the good lord doesn’t send these people just for me to ignore them. We went to the hut and at once were descended upon by a bunch of mad freaks – including a chinese chic called Dee who is taking my fancy. They have dominated the evening. Now Joe and I are having a beer before returning to the hut with another guy who stays there. I’m not really keen on staying here but I’ll spend a day looking for work before moving on. – 2 habits I’m trying to develop; 1, to say peace be with you every time a car passes me by and 2, to say a Hail Mary whenever I see a crucifix. THE DAY I WAS INTERRRUPTED AT SAXONE..

Tuesday September 28th September

Yet again endless dreams in the night. One in which I remet all my school acquaintances, a sexy but weird one in a park with some girls and worse, dreams about Barby. All these dreams of barby. I don’t remember the details but I woke-up feeling sad and it has stayed with me all day. At any moment I could cry. Has fucked my day completely. Hasn’t been a good day anyway. Joe and I went looking for work; my body was awful and was being dragged along. We did not find work and decided to leave this place which has only had a negative effect on me. (And is expensive, though I’m not supposed to worry about money.) Anyway we hitched then split up and hitched but I could not get a lift and I felt worse for being on the road so I have come back to the hut. Hoping that in the morning I will feel lighter. At the moment I have no strength for my journey and my pilgrimage seems short of holy places and me far from being a holy person.

THE DAY THAT WAS SPOILED BY A DREAM.

Wednesday September 29th

After writing last night a guy came round with a chillum and address for work. Improved my spirits. Really like the hut and Olaf too as he got into Pilgrims Guide and began discussing it with his French friends. This morning I woke-up early and redid yesterday’s walk with a little more spirit despite a pain in my side. Felt I was being told to do it again. Still no work so, quite gratefully, I began to hitch away from Saxone. Had another lesson when I forgot my bag; fortunately the driver went in a circle and the bag was returned. Slowly made progress. Was actually picked-up by a girl! Then at about 3pm I was dropped off at a nowhere place around 180kms from Chur. The village was full of large crosses. I couldn’t help but ask for a lift all the way to Chur. Miraculously one came and I mean miraculously. From an English guy, all the way across high and misty mountains, then (raining?) after the blue glacier & the windscreen wipers wouldn’t work properly. Amazingly I wasn’t frightened. The guy was nice; we talked about Don Juan and impeccability. Arriving I met an unsurprised Dick and Estee. Much relieved to be here. THE DAY OF THE MIRACULOUS LIFT IN THE MOUNTAINS.

Thursday September 30th

Really very little. Had a bath, read Shardik, posted a letter to barby and a postcard to Jade. Read all day long. THE DAY DOMINIC READ SHARDIK.

Friday 1st October

So with the warmth and security of civilization I preoccupy myself with thinking about food and unobserved sneaking of extra pieces of bread. Dick and Estee away this evening. When I’d finally done with eating I attempted a little meditation and studied my Yoga lessons which should be tried daily if possible. Also read the bible which is full of interest. This evening recentred on my journey via a book by Geoffrey Moorhouse and a tv program on St Francis. Still worrying about money and shouldn’t be. THE DAY I CLEANED THE KITCHEN FLOOR IN PAPON.

Saturday 2nd October

During the night was dreaming again, particularly remember a dream in which I was Clyde Barrow telling Lucy about Bonnie’s death. Lucy was appalled and saddened. She said Bonnie had been spoilt by her schooling (maybe nuns). The day that followed was slow and greedy. In the evening read an amazing book about Uri geller. THE DAY I READ ABOUT SPACEMEN.

Sunday 3rd October

Awoke in morning after a dream in which I’d had another epileptic fit. Also dreamed I was underwater in a frogman’s suit; water got in my eyes and I couldn’t get it out. Other long weird dreams. –Looks as if I may be here until Friday when maybe Dick can get me a lift into Austria. Not really a long lift but maybe the reading I’m doing here is significant. –Day of vibes with Estee’s mother grumbling about the house and Dick and Estee talking about going to England. On the walk to Vabella they argue and I just think it is funny how Barby and I had so few of these scenes and how I so rarely acted thus and yet my family fell apart. Meanwhile I eat bread and show I’ve not changed yet. DICK AND ESTE ARGUE ON A SUNDAY.

Monday 4th October

Begin to question my role here. To wash up and keep Este comfortable. That is satisfactory. The rest of the time I spend eating and reading as if I’d never heard of discipline or of a pilgrimage to India. This afternoon meditated awhile and later looked at the night sky searching for the Star of Love. Later in evening discovered I have to leave Friday or Saturday. It is good to be so directed though I’m wary of the immediate future & going back on the road. Then I realize whichever way I go is the right route. Can’t think of anything to put in capital letters. DOMINIC IS GIVEN THE DATE OF DEPARTURE.

Tuesday 5th October

Reading Zen & the Art Of and thinking of leaving, realize that maybe I should be deeply thinking about something. But I’m not. I’m neither high nor low or anything really. An elderly woman, a Rosicrucian, visited today. Took it as a sign of sorts, a reminder of my search, but the search is so indefinable that I can’t even tell when I’m searching and when I’m not. What am I searching for? The ‘I’. How do I know when I’ve found him? That I don’t know. Maybe when the voice that says the affirmations at the beginning of the book is not just the voice of Dominic saying the voice. Yes, that must be the ‘I’ I am looking for, to merge with the one who is already there. And maybe I’m looking for the I that knows what ‘God is love on cavalry means. And I’m searching to know the I that loves all. I suppose that apart from keeping to my five basic rules there is nothing else I can do but go to India and pray that the rest is revealed to me. In the evening had a smoke. It does help. ZEN AND THE ART OF MOTORCYCLE MAINTENANCE.

Wednesday 6th October

First thing in the morning, beginning to think again. Never know whether I should be thinking or not. Maybe if you think you should, think deeply and when you’re not thinking you shouldn’t think at all. Siting still my head is catching up with me. Pirsig, Krishnamurti and maybe Don Juan as well seem to say you can’t and shouldn’t be trying to, conquer fear. Climbing one mountain makes the next no easier to climb. The aim is to live with the fear, to carry on regardless.

Today I got my arse and did something. In fact, ironically, I climbed a mountain, even reaching the snow though I wasn’t trying to. Fantastic sun and trees and snow capped mountains. In words, cliched, in reality, perfect. And the rushing shouting streams reminding me of seeing electricity in my trips with Dana. Soon I came down. I get freaked out when I get too high up, fear of sudden mists. Down and back to Pirsig who climbed down his mountain. I hadn’t really followed his thought but at the end I felt depressed so maybe thinking isn’t to be recommended. – a tool of the moment but not a ‘way’. – Later went to Varbelle with Este. Really pleased that my body is working at all after the last few days. THE DAY DOMINIC REACHED THE SNOW AND THE MOUNTAINS

Thursday 7th October

Returned to my arse though Estee was unwell and there was a certain amount to do with the children. I’m not very good with Lucas really, impatient and maybe slightly rough which would be ok if it were a role but it isn’t a role. Children cut through any veneer of love & patience and they demand, require and receive only the real self. Or is that untrue? The ‘real’ self? Can’t say anything these days. All this talk about ‘thought’ and ‘thinking’ and I forget my theory that what we normally call thinking is only a stammer. Pure thought is direct and with few words. – In the evening decided to sleep out as a test of the weather which is hot in the day and clear at night. Came out at 11 p.m. lasted until 5a.m. Not a lot of sleep; too uncomfortable though not cold until the morning. The moon was full, or just about. Around the moon were coloured lights, yellow, purple, green –half a rainbow. Couldn’t stare too long because ii was too cold with my head out of the sleeping-bag. Didn’t ‘get off’ on the experience but maybe it said something that I could actually forswear a little comfort. Had thought this was my last day but Dick and Este seemed quite keen on my waiting for the lift on Saturday. CHOOSING TO SLEEP OUT IN PAPON.

Friday 8th October

Stupid sort of day really, as far as Dominic was concerned. Have really enjoyed the views of Papon this year, skies, mountains, trees frequently harmonising. Dick and Estie went for their dancing evening in Chur. I pigged myself, lazed and took to bed. Reread my Yogananda lessons. Sent a birthday card to Yasmi. What can I pout in capital letters? A VERY LAZY DAY IN PAPON.

Saturday 9th October

Don Juan following me around. First Dick showed me one of the books and then an Austrian with five children gave me a beautiful lift to Innsbruck and talked about Don Juan on the way. Am in Innsbruck this evening, eating soup and bread paid for me by the money he gave me, 200 schillings. He was a nice man, very much into what I’m doing though I did try to explain what a hopeless case I was. Am now worrying about the night out to follow. Took only a few minutes to feel homesick for Dick and Estee. They’ve been so good to me. Even packed me off with boiled eggs and carrots. Also Dick put some hosepipe on my bag which makes it a lot easier to carry. Thankyou, thankyou. Then Dick’s friend took me across the border, then two short lifts brought me to 140ks to Innsbruck. A long wait, began to feel cold, then this superb lift complete with Beatles music. Back on the road with the tears, fears, changes and frantic prayers that I bring to it. Am not keen on this sleeping out trip but can’t comment until the morning. My first night alone (except for 2 in warm Papon) since I left England.. – Later, tried to hitch further and met a german guy who gave me a smoke before moving on, then made up my bed by the side of the road and went to sleep. –In future change socks before sleeping.

DON JUAN FOLLOWS ME TO AUSTRIA.

Sunday 10th October

Wake-up cold (but not shivering), very damp with the sleeping-bag wet with due. Fortunately it is sunny and after a while I dry out. Took a while to get a lift and then it began, six lifts to Salzburg. I met up with yet another german guy after he’d hitched a lift from a coach. Shared a smoke and chocolate icecreams bought with schillings. Stuck for a lift he suggested we walk the last few kilometres to the border. Was a funny walk. Still had hopes of seeing Salzburg on a Sunday. Reaching the border we found a park full of lorries stuck because they weren’t allowed in Austria on a Sunday. Wouldn't have thought much about it if I hadn't seen three lorries together with ‘Istanbul’ written on them. With prompting from the German guy I went to see if I could get a lift to Greece. Not much success for a while. ‘Please god’, I say at the back of my mind, ‘not my will but yours’ and then a Scots guy hails me. He’s off to Iran via Bulgaria. Pity, I say, I’ve no visa and no injections. It’ll be all-right he says so I agree to give it a go. We don’t move at all because of border hassles and I get cramp in both legs before falling asleep. MIRACLE IN SALZBURG

Monday 11th October

It is about 8 o’clock and we’re halfway across the Austria-Yugoslav border. We’ve done 200 miles today. Made a late start this morning because we’ve ‘teamed up’ with an English guy who had things to sort out in Salzburg. Crossing a border in a lorry takes fucking hours, sometimes days. At the moment I’m ‘guarding’ the lorries while the drivers sort out permits etc. At this moment I’m feeling less happy. I guess because teaming up (to Ankara) might mean that Alec, my driver, will be less dependent on me. And I keep thinking, what is the visa costs $11 as I’ve been told and what about the injections or lack of them? I keep telling myself it’ll be all right and then I ask the question again. In actual fact it has been a far-out happy day. The guys have been really nice to me. They’re not throwing money at me but they’re sharing their food and giving me cigarettes and until this fucking border included me ‘in’. I’m guess I’m just a bit tired now. Austria was amazing; clear blue skies and mountains. Been a very good day despite my worries. After all even if I can’t get into Bulgaria the lift will have been amazing and $11 isn’t too much to pay if it gets me from Austria to Turkey in comfort. It is on my mind; need to be positive and throw off this worry. I’ve noticed there is always one worry in mind, usually the next tricky point. I’ve seen how the stories work yet still I doubt, still try to calculate my way around non-existent problems. ACROSS AUSTRIA

Tuesday 12th October

Writing this Thursday, so details are missing. Covered 200 miles of Yugoslavia. Stopped early for Terry and Alec to screw a tart, £10 each. Never could myself but it did put a vibe of sex in the air. Neither of them really enjoyed it at all, ‘nothing like he wife’. In a bar in the evening met some folk who told me that the injections I need will cost a minimum of £20 on the Pakistan border and Alec made a big effort to dissuade me from going further. Felt disappointed and a bit depressed. ALEC AND TERRY HAVE A RUB-OFF.

Wednesday 13th October

Through Yugoslavia and across the Bulgarian border. Woke-up feeling happier but still spent the day persuading myself that I don’t mind just going to Teheran and back. Reached the border and had to pay out $20 to cross which was quite a blow. Quite enjoyed the day really. My trousers are filthy now. Thing about going back is that I have no real objection but I am unchanged, fundamentally unchanged. But there is still a long way to go. I can’t even be sure of getting into Turkey and Iran. 20 DOLLARS AND DOMINIC TO BULGARIA.

Thursday 14th October

About 5.30a.m. half way across the Bulgaria-Turkey border. Trucking down the main road didn’t get much idea of Bulgaria. Like Poland years ago, one gets the idea of landlocked poverty though I like to see the horse drawn carts and the women in the fields. I’ve had a headache most of the days, depressed spirits. Had a meal of steak and chips. If I didn’t eat meat on the journey I’d get real hungry. Keep thinking and pretending not to think, that this lift was a mistake and should have gone to Greece as originally planned. – A Turkey stamp on my passport! Suddenly feel good. Sometime late tonight (if we ever get away from here) we aim for Istanbul. The guys plan to take a room; god knows how much that will cost ‘cos these guys don’t mess about once they decide to spend money. Earlier on today I almost persuaded myself to push on for Bombay even if I end up spending just a day there or even failing and getting flown back for £200. It is a lot of money, but only money and I should be showing faith in the original Bombay objective and not stop until absolutely forced to. I think that is the advice Steve and Calla would give. Just have to hang on and se what happens. –Turns out that we didn’t quite make Istanbul – just a little way into Turkey which Alec and Terry hate so much. Spent the night in a lay-by. I can’t sleep. Perhaps I’m too excited. Had a big grin on my face – felt high for a while. Tomorrow Istanbul!

THE DAY DOMINIC CAME HAPPILY INTO TURKEY.

Friday 15th October.

Well today was the day of Istanbul. Went in by taxi from the camp with Terry who is more of a loon than Alec. First we went to the Pudding shop to eat and then I ran off to the post office to get all my letters. Only had one and that was something from Barby. News from England good (for them). I don’t belong to any of that – even Jade is mine through memory. The lack of letters upset me. Like I want to go home but I have no home to go to. When I get back to England I’ll just be a prick in the wilderness. But despite the diversions this has been a far out day. I thought we’d be here longer but Alec reckons on going tomorrow so I’ve not seen the Blue Mosque. The vibes of Istanbul were tremendous & the bazaar great, not in the least disappointing. Alec and Terry have had a falling out so we’ll be going without him tomorrow which is a pity. I’ll be spending the night either on the floor of the hotel room (where I had a shower) or in the lorry, either of which is quite satisfactory. – In the evening went for a meal, my third free meal of the day. We met a Turkish lad who took us to his shop. There were beautiful coats there that I wanted to get Jade; cheap but not cheap enough. In the end I bought her a toy camel. Was glad to get her something, is done now. Ended up sleeping on the floor. My knees are beginning to protest at being doubled up all day. THE DAY DOMINIC WENT TO ISTANBUL.

Saturday 16th October

Turkey has fantastic scenery. Now in the mountains at Ankara. Beautiful sky, brown earth, shanty people. Earlier on there was the sea. I never thought of Turkey being like this. Then they build this road and kill themselves in head-on smashes. Alec is depressed, missing wife and kids. Me, not much thought in my head as the miles went by. – Tonight in the bar, (would be more interesting if we spent the nights in town) a Swedish guy complained he’d been ripped off 50 lira. The Turks went mad, started hitting him FROM ISTANBUL TO ANKARA.

Sunday 17th October

In convoy today, starting at 5a.m. In the wilds of Turkey, Asian dressed women, cold-looking stone buildings, washing in the streams. The kids on the roadside call for cigarettes. My view is tainted by romance but I wouldn’t care to stop on my own out here. The sunrise was fantastic, indescribable. On this trip I’ve wished I had a camera. –Last night dreamed of Barby, Jade and Dave. Wish I could escape all that. –In the mountain we break down. And remember the story told of how last week an English lorry driver was murdered by two Turks hassling for money. Temporary repairs see us through the last 80 miles with my helping by operating the throttle with a rope that I had to hold outside the window. Alec carried the day, showing bravery and ingenuity of heroic proportions. We finally stagger in at 10.30p.m. Alec fixes the throttle and hopes it will last through to Tehran. BREAKDOWN ON BANDIT MOUNTAIN.

Monday 18th October

Again starting at 4.30. Eyes aching. I peer into a new day’s view. Tahir. Tahir. Eight days I’ve been hearing about Tahir mountain, finally arriving with pains in the stomach and a great desire to shit which Alec pays no attention to because he dare not stop in these mountains. Later realized my stomach problem probably the result of drinking unboiled water. Overall I think we drew with Tahir. I was ill, the fueltank began to leak, we hit another lorry and lost our wing-mirror. The road was really bad, the towns and villages more fascinating than ever. Is really high up, the air is freezing, the views amazing. Turned the last corner and there was a giant mountain covered with snow. Later discovered this was Mt Aarat where Noah landed. Mountain country that couldn’t be more different from Papon. So we reach the border and another long wait commences. Drifting in and out of sleep. Woke-up with a nosebleed. Stomach is aching but not shitting. The van in front hasn’t moved. Thirsty. Smoke ciggies. Another border. TAHIR.

Tuesday 19th October

Time is 9.00a.m. Still queuing on the border. Have had a cup of tea and a piece of bread. Am dirty. Just waiting. Most likely to be here all day. Where is my religion, here in the lorry? Prayers when we’re moving, occasional starting off of mantra. Have been in this lorry for eight days, rarely get out, even for a stroll. Alec is convinced I’ll be going back with him, I’m hoping not. Crossing Turkey in a lorry is not a bad thing but I’m not in a hurry to repeat it. Should be feeling high but have a belly ache and am fed up of trying to wash plates with toilet paper. –Later I actually stepped out of the lorry and promptly met a girl, Valerie. She’s trucking to Tehran. I went for a walk with her, enjoying the amazing relief of communication, the first chance I’ve had for days to be me. Anyway we crossed the border together, met other people, heard good and bad news concerning the rest of the journey. It isn’t in my plans but I can’t help planning & guessing. Valerie now has a lift with the American driver who was travelling in our convoy; don’t know if that arrangement will continue. –6.30 now and tomorrow’s a public holiday so no telling how long we’ll be here. Quite revived by meeting Val and by spending the day out of the lorry. And now I have another new stamp on my passport. Is raining now, heavily. –Later. Am alone in the lorry. A bit hungry, but not too bad. Alec has gone off for a meal with another driver though he had told me he’d already eaten. A DAY OUT OF THE LORRY.

Wednesday 20th October

Morning, hang around the lorry park. Discover Valerie has gone off with Bulgarian driver. Feel a bit sorry for her. Don’t much like the American guy who is now off having breakfast somewhere with Alec. Have heard we’ll have a police escort to Tehran though don’t know when we’ll be leaving. As I wrote that Alec turned up and said he could be here another 4 days and I’d be better off getting a lift with someone else. (He didn't pay me back the $10 he borrowed yesterday.) It wasn’t a very good parting because the American was there and Alec just wasn’t the same. Almost immediately I met some guys driving cars from Munich to Iran. Said they’d me a lift when their papers came through. Met a Pakistani who bought me a meal. Sat in the car with the guys. They told me about being able to work in Tehran on six-month contracts earning fabulous amounts of money. Started thinking I should do it, go to India then back to England with another money to go to America and perhaps visit Dana there. Later I saw Alec’s lorry pulling out then I went to bed in the car thinking about money. THE DAY I SAID GOODBYE TO ALEC.

Thursday 21st October

Woke-up still on the border. Went for breakfast and met an English couple travelling in an Afghani coach either to Tehran or Kabul. I’ve got on the coach with them. Don’t know how much I’m paying or where I’m going and I can see that the cars are ready to go. Please lord, not my will but thine. Have been here since Monday. (Got injections done, smallpox and first cholera; much relieved to get something done in that direction.) There is a christian guy on the coach but a little talk we had had him on the verge of arguing about limitations rather than celebrating joy. – Later. Finally I left that border and soon we saw both ends of a rainbow. However paranoia interfered when a man who called himself a policeman jumped on board and started handing out cartons of cigarettes that he wanted us to be responsible for. Suspicious we said no and he hid them at the back of the bus. Also he had two vans following us. All very weird. In a country such as this you want no trouble. In the evening paranoia cooled though the policeman remains.. –Think I may be paying $10 to get to Kabul. Seems unlikely. –Slept in the coach on the floor underneath the policeman. THE DAY I SLEPT UNDERNEATH A POLICEMAN.

Friday 22nd October

A weird day. Coach picks up a load of Iranis who filthy the floor, puke-up, stare at us unblinkingly and generally make for an uncomfortable day’s travel to Tehran. Arriving there the two Afghani coachdrivers and the policeman who’d been collecting large sums of money from the passengers, started arguing furiously about money down a shady side street. Very uncool vibes. An addition to the clan is an Irani homosexual called Jason. All sorts of fuss and bother last night about hotels and chai and Stuart who found himself paying much more money than intended. (A warning to me.) More arguments. We get near to freaking out but at the same time feel quite high. We demand a cup of tea. Jason hails a taxi and reluctantly we go but never got out, having the tea in the taxi. Getting quite late. Not hungry. We’d bought food and the policeman gave a filling plate of rice and lentils. Slept on the seat because the floor was too dirty in a dead end part of Tehran, noise and tramps under cardboard. End of a weird day. A COACHFUL OF IRANIS

Saturday 23rd October

Morning, just hanging around the coach in Tehran while the Afghanis do repairs. Three of us now. Have had tea and bought food. Nod and I wandered into a place where they were pulling on giant water-pipes, couldn’t suss what they were smoking. Gave Stuart a message for Valerie. From where we are this looks like a dirty and horrible city. Still don’t know how much I’m paying. Judging by Stuart they can come on heavy at the last moment. And where is my christ in all this? And my prayers? Don’t feel holy, don’t feel like a pilgrim, don’t feel changed. – Saw camels the other day. – Now 1.30and we’re still waiting, probably for that fucking policeman. Think I’m a bit soporific ‘cos we found another café with those pipes and we’ve been blowing. Could have got round Tehran if we’d known how long we’d be staying here.

At 2p.m. Julie finds out by chance that we’re not going anywhere today so with Nod being reluctant she and I head-off to Tehran. In fact accomplished very little – no signs of Valerie or the Germans at Amir Kabir. Had a good time walking though came across nothing of interest. Thought I’d found a mosque but it turned out to be a bank! Made our way back, pissed around and went to bed after a somewhat fruitless day. THE DAY I VISITED TEHERAN WITH JULIE.

Sunday 24th October

Well we all got up really early expecting a prompt start. Time now about midday and we’ve not moved. Had tea, bread and cheese, and bread and omelette at the café. No idea when we’re going to restart.

As it turns out, not at all. We meet a Persian who speaks English who tells us that the Afghanis claim they are waiting for one of the other coaches to be mended. The Persian guy is really nice. Took us to his house for dinner. Met his sister. He thinks I could get work. Tempts me to stay.

Earlier Ned threw my Tarot. Quire disturbing. It suggested that one of the basic presumptions behind my plan is at fault. Maybe material. Ultimate outcome to be collapse through my own error. Also to be a female influence, beneficial and harmonious. Of course I worry and worry. Should I or shouldn’t I go on and what should I change?

THE DAY I HAD MY TAROT READ.

Monday 25th October

Wake-up early but the bus is hesitant. Policeman comes, gives us an apple and then goes. Saed arrives and we go for breakfast, bread and jam, tea, really good. Go back to the coach and find it full of Afghanis, maybe these are what we’ve been waiting for. Our companions invite speculation as to the social hierarchy. This lot look distinctly moronic but despite sheep and pigs in boxes they’re a bit cleaner. Malluk clicks for money but the moment passes. An uncomfortable day as the bus crawls. Drive until past midnight and then sleep. We were fortunate in having two seats to sleep on. Malluk’s singing is driving us mad. Finding it hard to capture the mood now (it is actually Friday). I was OK but Ned and Julie have had enough and are plotting escape. THE DAY MALLUK GOT TOO MUCH.

Tuesday 26th October

The bus crawls in early in the morning and thus begins the Meshad adventure. Saed and Malluk and brother go for a cup of tea, leaving us alone. Nod and Julie plan to jump bus. I’m not really into it but I see the problem of staying on and don’t really want my money railroaded. Anyway Ned gets a taxi and it is happening. Anxious moments as the taxi driver hassles about the fare. Get to the railway station about 6a.m. and then we try to make plans. Fleeing smuggled mattresses and cigarettes, the policeman and mad Afghanis is one thing but what next? Still we were doing a lot of laughing. The Afghanis, with typical timing, had arrived on the Shah’s birthday so everything was closed. Leaving the luggage at the station we went looking for a hotel. On the way, in the heat, we came across the Holy Shrine. The place looked amazing but they wouldn’t let us in. Then we came across a Pakistani lorry driver who led us to his hotel & offered us a lift to Pakistan but we found his place was just near the escaped coach so we got away. However the following taxi driver invited us back to his home and, tempted by a free crash, we accepted. He turned out to house a collection of freaky looking friends who asked ‘are you happy?’, assaulted us with energy and talked about marijuana. Returned to the station on our own for four hours then met the Iranis in the middle of town. Immediately got pissed off as they crammed 9 into the taxi and then drove around and around Meshad for no particular purpose. Having exhausted our patience for Irani translations and piss-taking we demanded to be taken somewhere specific. The guys then drove out of town to a garden house. Suspiciously we went in to the bare building with its dirty floor. The taxi driver disappeared to get food and smoke and didn’t return for 2 hours by which time we were totally pissed off with being hassled and with their parry tricks such as clicking bones and blowing smoke-rings. Ned played his guitar which he’s very good at. When the taxi driver returned with food, smoke and banana whiskey the scene got worse with their constant pushing. With some after Julie and some after me the whole thing get ridiculous and possibly dangerous because smoking dope is a capital offence here. In the end we grouped ourselves together, real close with Julie in the middle, and laid down to sleep. Very nice actually! All in all was one hell of a day.

HAPPY BIRHDAY SHAH.

Wednesday 27th October

Not really doing this story justice. The problem with diaries is that whenever anything is really happening, they are not. Struck up quite a friendship with Ned and Julie: a threesome could be awkward but we share our adventure and get high together. Anyway, awoke at 5 and observed that the Iranis were getting ready to split. They are obviously disappointed in us. Last night they sang stupidly and belched gigglingly before going to sleep. The Iranis seem really in to ego games. We got them to return us to the railway station. ‘What shall we do now?’ asked Ned. ‘Find new owners,’ I replied. Went to the British Consulate and discovered it to be the British council who had no interest in our story. Then we went to the Afghani consulate to get visas, full of warnings as to how long this would take and fearing meeting Malluk & co. The visa took an hour. I then went to the hospital and got a second cholera injection. By 1 p.m. we were heading for the bus station and Afghanistan. Had a hassle with a taxi driver who drew-up right beside Malluk’s coach and would not understand why we wanted to be taken a few hundreds yards further down the road. Not finding a chai shop Julie and I attempted to hide ourselves while Ned went off to investigate. Immediately we drew a crowd. Fleeing to another sidestreet we watched the children as play as the women flirted veiledly. After an hour Malluk’s coach went but it was too late for us to leave Meshed. I was approached by another bouncy Irani asking ‘how you say in English, sugar?’ but I ignored him. Our plans rearranged we look for a hotel & settle for a proprietor who says only ‘I love you’ and a shared room for 270 rials. As a relaxation we walk around the bazaar; I only like the amazing wall-hangings & some non-turquoise rings. The Holy Shrine is all lit-up & looks very impressive. Buy food, egg sausage sandwiches, then return to our room for an early night. However a knock on the door results in a New Zealander with hash to smoke & a couple of hours pass by. When he goes we laugh some more at these weird days & at a group of Pakistanis doing unfathomable things in the hallway. Sleep comes quickly.

MY FIRST NIGHT IN A HOTEL.

Thursday 28th October

Meshed, messhead. Got ourselves up at 6.30 to start hassling as taxi. Unfortunately it turns out to be one of the dozy ones with no idea of taking us where we want to go nor any idea of map reading. Ultimately we got there and bought our tickets to the border (115rials). Going for tea we are offered hash which Ned accepts and I do not. The bus is mainly full of freaks but I’m sitting at the back and resting from conversation. Getting out of Iran seems relatively easy but then we need a minibus going to Heart and it takes a few hours for it to fill up. When it does so we hurry the 3 miles to the border. We’re going to exchange money when Julie spots the coach and there is Malluk walking straight towards us. Paranoia! Ned and Julie go off with him to the police while I bullshit my way through the currency declaration, all the while shitting myself. Get trough that and join the gathering. Fortunately Malluk isn’t shouting too much and we keep relatively cool. Then we go to see the Chief of Police for the area in his plush office where he is constantly saluted. We drew him away from addressing a crowd and on our best behaviour told our story. Then Malluk told his. In the balance. A judge is mentioned. I pay five dollars and hold my breath. Ned does the same. Mallak cracks, takes the money. Much relieved we head back to the uncomfortable minibus for Heart. An Afghani gets us stoned. Arrived at a hotel which is ok though I get a room with two strangers and rely on Ned and Julie to pay for me because I couldn’t change money on the border. Ate and went to bed, not knowing that Ned and Julie were getting high with some French guys. Another loony weird day.

THE DAY I GOT TO AFGHANISTAN AFTER SOME DIFFICULTY.

Friday 29th October

Actually writing this in the present tense. Off key this morning. Have checked my finances and they are not good. Also my plans and Ned and Julie’s differ so separation is on the way. The banks are closed so can’t move today. Will have to hurry through Afghanistan and Pakistan if I want to get to India. God knows how I’ll get back. At least I’ve had a hot shower and washed my hair for the first time since Switzerland. Have another cold and my head has not healed properly. Julie had a look and said it looked inflamed.. Can’t lie on the back of my head, too sore. She pulled out one of the stitches and applied some antiseptic cream.

-Early evening. Ned is playing the guitar, beautifully well while Julie sits on the bed, an excellent audience to everything and anything. Am pleasantly stoned. A jinglebelled horse gallops ringingly on the dust. What is this place? A touch of everything amazing; no conversation without an offer, maybe even a bargain for the fortunate. Stories abound, positive vibes, rediscovering release. I have sold my silver bracelet for 10 dollars. Long hassle and bartering. Like an Afghani I dropped my price suddenly at the end. The will goes and one becomes tired of the dealing. – Later. A walk around town has given me grass, entertained me and found me a job to do tomorrow, exchanging dollars at the bank for the chai shop owner, Came back and got smashed with Ned and Julie. Feel really close to them and reluctant to quit them. So it goes. Later smoked some pipes and got trashed with a Swedish guy who talked a lot of sense and taught me a lot in just a few minutes. Also told me of a place in India to aim for where the living is nice and cheap.

Went to bed with fabulous colours before my eyes. So good to be stoned. Could stay here for ages but the hoped for destination is India.

AFGHANIED IN AFGHANISTAN.

Saturday 30th October

Woke up with the intention of moving on. Ned and Julie still in bed. Went off to achieve the promised deal but the guy didn’t turn up. Sussed out a cheap and leaving soon bus & hurried back to get Ned to the bank. There I remet the magical Swedish guy and a guy from Reading I’ve met before. Got stoned and then went to the bank. Hassling over money with my bus due out didn’t help the goodbyes. Dear friends, they felt it too. The bus journey was a bit disastrous; crowded and very slow, relieved by a smoke which got me very high. Locked in bus overnight. PARTING FROM NED AND JULIE

Sunday 31st October

Bus drags on and on, arriving at Kabul at 4 in the afternoon. Time costs money in hotel and food bills and I’ve just seen a map of India that looks frighteningly large. Went for a walk & got caught in a dust-storm. Didn’t find the bus company I was looking for. Am staying at a hotel with a Canadian and a Swiss who shared doubts about the journey ahead. Got stoned, wrote letters and crashed out. IN KABUL

Monday 1st November.

As expected, can’t move on until tomorrow. 100 afghanis to Pakistan. Probably good to have these breaks but they make it all expensive. It is 28 dollars back to Tehran, 55 to Istanbul. (Which I just about have.) And I keep aiming forward. Hanging around Kabul which is a different world from Heart and nowhere near as nice. – I exchanged 5 dollars for 220 af + 20 Pak rupees. All this dealing and guessing becomes a hassle.. Now my thoughts are so far ahead of me I’m worrying about help to get back! Maybe because I’m hungry & I’m sitting in a restaurant watching people eat, the trip seems just a trip of no particular importance. Not that I’m depressed, just empty. –Have pretty well been round Kabul and it doesn’t seem much though I believe the good places are out of town. No bazaar but everything bizarre! – Have changed more money at a loss of 4 dollars. It can’t be helped. I wonder if my attitude to Kabul would be better if Ned and Julie were here. So glad now that I spent a couple of days in Heart. – Later got stoned, played cards with roommates & read some more of the Glass Bead Game. Also tried to write an off the cuff piece hoping it would reveal something. Mainly it turns out that I only write when I’m stoned. –Earlier today remet an Indian guy who invited me to his home but he lives in the cold North. Noticed that my roommates were writing copiously, describing what they have seen. Felt almost jealous of their powers of observation. Maybe they see the environment more in the foreground than I do. I see it as a weird backdrop to whatever else is happening and though I get off on the beautiful or horrific views I can’t think how to describe them out of the context of me. That’s egotism. THE DAY I DEALT ON THE BLACKMARKET.

Tuesday 2nd November

It almost hurts! It does hurt. Have spent the daylight hours of today sat nice and close to a really beautiful French girl, Christine. A flash here, an eye there, a little laugh maybe and I’m planning our future together. The scenery surpasses itself as we leave Afghanistan & I’m chewing hash to avoid border hassles. And then I get through the border with no problems. Into Pakistan. Getting so near to India, maybe even get there tomorrow. Felt very inclined to stay with the French to give time for my sweet romance to develop but on arriving in Peshawar I discover that a night-train goes to Lahore and I should take it. I turn to part with Christine but can’t see her. At the station now, apparently the only westerner with a third class ticket. No one else can face it but I have to. –My hearing has been strange since my ears popped going over the Khyber pass. When it speaks it sounds as if I’m under water.

-Well the journey was worse than forewarned. Was crushed upon the floor by numerous chattering and fighting Pakistanis and only coped by having fantasies about Christine as the unbelievably long night dragged on. CHRISTINE, THE ANTI-PAKASTANI WEAPON.

Wednesday 3rd November

Short shrift to Pakistan. Charged out of Lahore to the border where I was fucked-up over the currency declaration and lost a 100 rupees (about £10). Still have blocked ears and now a streaming nose and cold. Not a healthy way to reach a new country.

- But India is breached! As I staggered in I had the sudden realization that this may be the beginning of the hard work. Made my way to the Golden Temple and I’ll be here for a day or two. This is an amazing place & a great start to the Indian part of the journey. Am back on the pilgrimage. Went for a walk in the dirty sidestreets. The people are friendly and funny. Then after a few chapattis, more tea and a couple of bananas I went into the temple itself. Uplifting for sure. Then I went to look for the free kitchen and ended-up making chapattis, piling them up as my offer of thanks. Was given a meal there but it was much too hot to enjoy. Came back and crashed out in the courtyard to end a quite amazing day.

- MAKING CHAPATTIS AT THE GOLDEN TEMPLE.

Thursday 4th November.

My flow inhibited by a crap biro. Is halfway through a day that began at 6 with two delights; 1) my ear was better, 2) I was lying next to a girl who turned me on something rotten. I’ve spent the day with the girl (a German with very little English) and her boyfriend (as I thought). Wandering around the temple and teahouses. It is a crazy place. In this mood t all makes me laugh, so mad, so dirty. The kids are beautiful, actually beautiful and great to watch playing. Anyway, on to the subplot. The girl and I seem to be aiming for the same area both with christian work in mind though it is difficult to tell with the language problems. Maybe we’ll travel together although finances and subplans might rule the possibility out. Just thinking of my Tarot reading that implied good luck with the female principle but collapse of the main plan. Well my plan is to ask the Yogananda people for work and to write to Adrian and my parents to send me money. Will see how it goes. –At the moment sitting here waiting for my clothes to dry & I feel happy and amused and aware of a cosmic joke. This absurd place with this absurd pilgrim, well, it’s laughable. God is on posters, the guru has street named after him, the golden temple is the home of some of the scruffiest, dirtiest and most diseased people in the world. It is beautiful, it is funny. – Now nighttime in this chai permeated place. Have been back to the temple, this time with Christine and Fripp (?). Rolled chapatis & actually finished my dish of dahl. The three of us then went into the temple beneath the filling moon, ideal for meditation though my concentration lacks a lot. If I travel with Christine I must be careful not to be diverted from my real intentions but she seems a pure being so I guess I’ll not have too much temptation. – Is now very very late. I should be sleeping but I’m caught in a crosscurrent of excitement. First, there’s India, which is mind-blowing. If this is what it is like I’ll be happy. Then there’s Christine… All night couldn’t sleep.

THE DAY I SAW INDIA AS A COSMIC JOKE.

Friday 5th November

First thing down to the railway station, 21 rupees to Delhi. Buy our tickets and spend the rest of the day drifting and waiting. Interrogated by Sikhs in a café who wanted to know Caroline’s sexual habits. I don’t know, I wish I did. So I sit on this train very curious and prone to fantasize and maybe just a little aware that I have genuine responsibilities to an 18-year-old girl travelling companion, however tough she may be. Is quite difficult with so little shared language. –Have just discovered that the post office will be closed tomorrow which could alter our arrangements. –She plays the guitar and sings a few gentle songs & then I watch her face when sleeping and of course I fall in love again.

FALLING IN LOVE AGAIN.

Saturday 6th November

Isn’t life strange, a turn of the page..certainly for those of us who laugh a lot in love and in love move through the days obsessed by love & the partings of love. Maybe for me love is a fantasy, chasing the lady in a blue shawl or satisfied with nothing less than the full moon. So gently, gently, gently, and I will sacrifice anything for the warm sensation, the burning temptation of a hand held in mine to guide and be guided. But of course if the cosmic joke exists it must turn on the self and the self must laugh at itself to find a woman, to share a hotel room with her only to find she’s halfway to being a nun!

Would go for a walk to see Delhi but Christine is unwell and anti-Delhi anyway so we hang out in the hotel room which is ok except for my desire. Anyway tomorrow we embark on a 24 hour train journey so the more rest the better. I suppose, reluctantly suppose, that it will be good to deposit Christine & then continue to Ranchi before I become even more immersed in this imaginary romance. –Thinking of money again, of writing home to Adrian or my parents to ask for 50 dollars going home money but Tehran-Delhi is a minimum 80 dollars so maybe I’m back with going to the embassy and having debts when I return home.

Finally we go for an evening walk. In a café w meet some children of god, one of whom asks, ‘what are you planning to do in your life?’ I shake my head helplessly. Later Christine says ‘I am happy but I do not know the reason’. Really one can not and should not ask for more. –At the moment I’m laying on the bed with Christine who is sitting in her underpants and shirt playing a 2 rupee recorder & between us lies the Indian hotel manager who is obviously totally out of his head. It seems that he wants to sleep with me. Is this the kind of situation that one has travelled abroad to experience? Apparently.

Is the guru’s birthday. Fireworks in the street, my very own guy fawks day. NOW A GURU’S BIRTHDAY

Sunday 7th November

Endurance time on the Delhi-Hizaribagh Road express. 8 a.m. to 1 a.m. Then we disembarked in the middle of nowhere and slept on a table outside the railway station. ON THE TRAIN AGAIN.

Monday 8th November

Terrible day. Terrible. Neil Young singing in my head, ‘helpless, helpless.’ Don’t feel like writing about it. Emotionally, physically, & spiritually exhausting, weakening, depressing. Christine goes with a handshake. Yeah, fight back some tears when upright on an endless busride to Ranchi. Tired, sick. Drag myself to the man of god and the man of god says no. So, the Tarot is justified. Sit in Yogananda’s ashram, sick and unhappy. Really down, down, down. Not eating. Went to the railway station to find somewhere to crash. Money problems too, just dollars, no rupees. Am close to panic and full of fear. Overwhelmed with nervous exhaustion but falling asleep saves me from total collapse. THE COLLAPSING TOWER.

Tuesday 9th November

I wake-up with a little more energy but I’m dead depressed and it is only seven in the morning. Am looking for a bank, fearing they won’t change dollars. Have discovered that I am covered by little red spots. Doesn’t help, doesn’t help. Plan in mind is to go to Bombay, first writing home for more money. If I get it I’ll go to Goa, otherwise surrender myself to the embassy. – Now 1.40 in the afternoon. I’m on the far side of town having walked maybe 2 or 3 miles, drinking much tea to keep me going. Have eaten four oranges. Have spent all day going to the bank and back. Have recovered some strength, the result of writing to Steve and Calla and of meeting a good man of Islam who told me straight, ‘follow the rules of god and the rules of your true nature.’ No guru could have told me more. Was later called over by a market man who made me sit beside him and then gave me a chillum to smoke.

-Back to plans. To get to Bombay I must get a bus to Gaya & that passes through Hazaribagh. I will break my journey there and check out Christine’s trip. Hopefully she’s had a better time than me. I asked Adrian to send me some money but maybe it isn’t important because all I meant to do was get to Bombay; Goa is extra and not necessary. Is about 6 or 7 now, back at the railway station, to a dinner of a roll, four tiny bananas and another orange. My market-seller gave me 3 waternuts to eat which were interesting and well, tasteless.

-Tomorrow I set off. Just to Hazaribagh (I think). Has been no time for resting nor any place to rest. Have decided to leave my gold ring with the statue of Yogananda. For what purpose I know not; trying to buy my way to heaven?

RANCHI

Wednesday 10th November

Get up at 6. Been awake for hours. Feel flushed, bitten and battered with no clue as to why I am doing this (sleeping on railway stations). For 10 rupees I could have had a hotel room. Tonight I’ll take one. More red spots. I’m calling them fly bites because there’s another to worry me as it is. Bombay will do me. Time is immeasurable, the rest is sight-seeing, holidaying. These last few days – or is only really two – have been struggle, struggle and it isn’t spiritual, it is me being mean with the money. This ‘cold’ & cough have now settled in, claiming the left side of my body as their own. Difficulty in breathing and coughing causes a chain reaction.

Go to visit the Yogananda ashram and meet with an Australian who like me was turned away and told to go to Los Angeles but unlike me he’s on his way. I give the ring to Yogananda who still does not smile. Go to the bus station & spent much time drinking feverishly and feeling weak. Takes a long time to even investigate the bus.

When I do I’m grateful to discover I have a seat. The fever continues but the cool air helps. Got off the bus and was promptly assailed by a man who took this book and wrote a proof of god in the back of it. Nervously got the rickshaw to the convent, wondering how Christine would receive me. Turned out she’d already been sent away to do work for the mission. The Mother Superior came out to talk to me and invited me for coffee, in fact coffee, bread, cheese!! And jam. I told her some of my story. Realized as I sat there that I was definitely ill. The convent was sparkling clean and the gardens beautiful. Next the Mother Superior invited me for dinner and then to stay the night. I took myself to the chapel for rest and peace. Later the nuns filed in and sat in silence for half an hour before a service began in English (although most of the nuns were Indian). When they began to sing it was truly beautiful.

The dinner was of chicken & chips –a bit much - & water which I trusted to drink because it was served with love. Was joined by a Swiss nun & gradually I told her the real basis to this journey. Again it helped me to adjust to the idea of reaching Bombay then flying home. In fact I look forward to it. I don’t think I will wait for Adrian’s money because that was not part of the original deal. Also realizing that economizing in India is stupidity not nobility. Have seen a mirror and my face is poxed with mosquito bites, the result of sleeping at Ranchi railway station.

I told the nuns of my illness & they gave me pills. Realized that some of the stomach pains I’ve been having are hunger pains.

Was driven by rickshaw, under a lovely sky, to the compound where my bed was. Went to bed with a mosquito net, ill but full of gratitude.

THE BEAUTIFUL SISTERS OF SAINT FRANCIS.

Thursday 11th November

9.30. Awoke early again and couldn’t go back to sleep though tiredness and a high temperature remain. Hurt less than I did. Went to convent, had boiled egg, toast, butter and jam for breakfast. Did not, could not, stuff myself. Am invited to lunch and then I have to go. Have walked into town for a chai. Still weak with new headaches. Don’t know whether to stop off in Benares or not. It is reputedly a physically challenging place and I doubt my health is up to it. Probably depends on train timetables and stuff like that.

-Reluctantly left and got the bus to Gaya. On the bus the time passed quickly and I began to feel better. My mind went to Bombay and then made all its way back to Oxford. When I got off the bus my temperature had dropped and going home seemed less appealing.

-The railway people say that I’ll have to wake a week for the Bombay train. Decide to go to Benares but that’s a 7-hour journey tomorrow so I took a hotel room where the mosquitoes bit more.

DEPARTING THE SISTERS OF MERCY.

Friday 12th November

Discover from my book that I’m not far away from where the Buddha got enlightened. Seems more sensible to go there for a few days than to go to bustling Benares. My thought now is to reserve my seat on the Bombay express and to go to BuddGaya -Have now bought the Bombay ticket, 70 rupees. Have seen my face again, destroyed by pox marks. Vanity screams. Hope these aren’t permanent. Weighed myself, 10 st 5; about right. This morning had my breakfast bought by Punjabis.

-Have made my trip to Buddgaya. Transformation. Was lying on my bed in a dorm very tired having just arrived at the hotel. Midday hot. Was seeming a bit weird then some Japanese guys turned me on. And on. Got so very high. Dropped the incredible load I’ve been carrying. Saw a girl’s eyes transmitting stars across the room. The wall takes the shape of a crucifix and a figure almost appeals. Then went for a walk, incredible sky, amazing sounds and sights. And the Indians too are fascinating. Then into a Thai Buddhist temple. Buddha was there! Have never seen such beauty – electric, vibrating with gold light on a dark blue background. Buddha was there, a living presence. And going into the temple was like entering the magick theatre at the cost of your mind. At each bay window were signs with short sayings on expressing home truths. Superb, superb, superb. Had to go because people were coming in.

- Later. At night looked at the stars, remembered the song, have you seen the stars tonight? Wrote a couple of letters then went to bed. Coughed non-stop for an hour or more.

- THE DAY I SAW THE BUDDHA.

Saturday 13th November

Up at 6 a.m. Nothing much of a day. Slowly got my washing done. Ate well. In the evening found the Tibetan teahouse. Bought sandals and had my trousers fixed. Bought prayer beads for Steve and Calla and some cream for my mosquito bites. Visited the temples. Without the smoke of yesterday, not so staggered.

TEMPLE TOURING

Sunday14th November

Almost a food trip going with the Tibetan pancakes. Just a walk around doing nothing day. The Tibetans have begun a weeklong prayer week by the Bodhi tree where Buddha was enlightened. Joined in at times during the day. In the evening they had drums and trumpets and made a crazy sound. Went to bed very early trying to keep two visions in mind though they are already fading. 1) Came when pondering the desire to be desireless. Saw the total ‘I’ as a giant house, everything included, and the moving steps were stilled for a moment. 2) the Buddha the right way around combined with the Buddha upside down produces a nil-point which is like a pancake rolling on its side. DRIFING AROUND BODH-GAYA.

Monday 15th November

Woke-up with a bad headache after a long long sleep. Will go and have some Tibetan porridge for breakfast. – A gentle day. Had a smoke in the afternoon and went to visit the temples but they were closed. Send happy postcards to Steve and Calla and Jade. Later went for a meditation lesson at the spact Japanese temple. Was great at first, gongs, bells, drums and chanting in the candlelight. The lesson was interesting though of course I had trouble concentrating. Interesting to see the Zen way, Think I’d like to go to Japan one day. Had some food followed by a good clear sleep.

JAPANESE ZEN MEDITATION.

Tuesday16th November

Just spending the day in an easy way, getting a little stoned, eating pancakes & waiting for my train. Will be back in England soon with a head full of travel plans for the future. But how could I ever leave England and not see Jade? - Buy a couple of novels to read on the train. My mood is good. LEAVING THE BUDDHAS

Wednesday 17th November

MOSTLY ASLEEP ON THE BOMBAY MAIL.

Thursday 18th November

Have arrived in Bombay! Been here an hour and already embroiled in a doubtful adventure. Amazing that I’ve arrived at my destination. Later will go to the cathedral and seek out the cardinal. –Now nearer the goal but not with ease. First a man I met told me about an ashram outside Bombay which sounds worth following up, then he took me to the money-exchanger and then he tried to sell me blow, even bringing a sample along. Much later he demands payment for his services. (No post for me at the post office.) The ashram idea is interesting. Maybe I won’t have to go back to England next week after all? Anyway the sample wrecked me. Got out of the taxi near the cathedral out of my mind. Couldn’t cross the road. Maybe for an hour or two I was totally incapable of handling the situation, utterly overwhelmed by the noises of the city which are magnified in my brain. Got to the cathedral where I freaked again, head lifting off. Sat in meditation position, felt the power rocking my body, fighting the knots which jerk my body and stop me flying off. Left the cathedral to wait for the right finding the cardinal mood. Am still very stoned and spaced. Maybe not the right time. –Went in anyway but given a 90 minute respite through the unavailability of a priest. Eating more food, trying to bring myself round. Suddenly realize the difficulty of the situation. Asking to see a cardinal must involve all sorts of protocols and hierarchical sifting out. Thing is, I don’t know how important this is. Guess I must persevere with all my energy.

- Evening. Smoking. Very hot. Had a little look around for presents. Bought Jade a little guitar. Can’t see anything else worth getting anyone. Joss-sticks?

-Tomorrow could be an important day. At 10 I go to see or not see the Cardinal. God knows what I’ll say to him, the truth if I can bring myself to say anything at all. And depending on what happens then I may go on to the ashram that my man says is free.

Was angry as much as disappointed not to get any post.

My goal is freedom.

Strange how Bombay freaked me out. Was very scared to suddenly lose it all. Thought I was going to collapse like in Stuttgart. Would be too much if it happened here, absolutely too much.

THE DAY I FREAKED OUT IN BOMBAY

Friday 19th November

Very little sleep owing to heat and noise. Am now in my hotel room, all showered and cleaned and ready for the cardinal. Don’t think I’ll go to the ashram today cos fancy another night in with a smoke and a biro. Or is it the girl who arrived at the hotel? No, I was minded to stay anyway. Of course it will take more money but that’s just about all gone already. –Am in the waiting room of the Cardinal’s house. They say he is ill and can’t see me. In some ways this is a relief! I have written a letter which they have taken to him. Did not know what to say. Was writing this and looked up and there he was. He read my letter and we spoke a little but superficially. He sends blessings to my parents, says god will bless me for my pilgrimage and tells me to settle down when I get back to England. To conclude he gives me a book, a big heavy book, a souvenir of Pope Paul’s visit to Bombay in 1964. He signs it and all is done. I’m happy. I’ve come to Bombay & seen Cardinal Gracias. I’ve even got heavy proof of it. Glad it didn’t turn out to be all a fantasy.

Later got very stoned and wrote letters. A storm in the evening which I thought might be a cyclone. Thought maybe I’d come to Bombay to face death but I couldn’t do it.

-Bought some silk for Calla, a cheesecloth tshirt for Barby. Just Steve, Moo and Abby to go. THE DAY I MET THE CARDINAL

Saturday 20th November

Got stoned in the morning and wrote letters. Quite spaced out so took my time getting to the ashram, arriving about 4. First news is that it isn’t free at all! It is 30 dollars a month so I’ve enough for a week with about 20 rupees left over. Generally had a look around. Met people who reckon Baba is a very high guy. Went to a chant & joined in the best I could. Can’t feel the excitement I should feel. Here is the dream and I don’t feel up to it. Anyway had the evening meal, a cup of tea, a chant and went to bed.

But couldn’t sleep at all. Then I had stomach trouble which I tried to tell myself was necessary purging.

THE DAY I WENT TO THE ASHRAM OF BABA MUKTANANDA

Sunday 21st November

Fortunately didn’t have to get up at 2.30 a.m. Actually 4.30 a.m. for brief period of (non)meditation & long period of chanting. Had breakfast at the café which severely attacked my little monies. Actually feel quite depressed this morning – maybe it’s the rain in the countryside reminding me of Anglesey. It seems I’m not ready for this. Was higher and happier in Bombay.

-Mood fluctuation during the day, mostly down. Went for the blessing (darshan?) of the guru but didn’t ask for mantra. Immediately felt sad and went into the gardens by the banana trees. Came back to se Baba feed his elephant. Later a guy lent me a couple of Baba’s books. Baba is obviously a holy man. But me? Lack of self-love, depressed, fearful, incapable of meditation. And to love the Baba? To meditate on a guru that I do not know? Baba says to meditate on the self. The Self? The affirmative self? I am happy, I am love, I am peace, until I believe it? Did get off on the Hare Krishna in the evening. Keep thinking of Steve and Calla. Baba is their guru. THE DAY I SAW BABA FOR THE FIRST TIME.

Monday 22nd November

Another bad night. Thinking it was late I got up, only to discover it was 3.15 a.m. tried to meditate for a while – all the gurus seem to say you have to meditate – but I got nowhere. I try to let my mind go into peace but nothing happens. Went back to bed. Then got up again for a short chant, didn’t enjoy it so went back to bed yet again where I listened to the singing and maybe slept. – Trying to understand the way I feel. Am uptight and anxious, meditation is a fight, not enjoying myself at all & feel ashamed about that. Maybe I should blow a joint and relax. Today I’m working and attending a class, maybe that will take the pressure off my thought and expectations. Why can’t I treat being here as something quite normal, as nothing special that I can take or leave? Dearly wish Steve and Calla were here.

-Later. Went to a class which cheered me up a lot. Then a big thunderstorm. Hung around then went to be with better hopes of sleep. THE DAY BABA OPENED THE COURSE.

Tuesday 23rd November

Up at 4.30. Went to meditate in the gardens but fell down a hole and got massacred by mosquitoes. At 8a.m. (after missing morning chant) I went to work in the gardens where I was bitten even more. Worked with a ditch guy who lived in the states. We got talking about fear and paranoia and mine grew as we talked. Also kept getting dizzy. Went to the doctor about my head which has been itching badly. He said I had a stitch abscess where I had pulled out the stitches. charged me 2 rupees. Asked Paul to give me 10 rupees.

The class is meant for people thinking of starting centre but I’m on it so I’ll stick with it. Silly things bother me, like why is Baba allergic to flowers?

-I’ve been asked to pour the water at mealtimes. At lunchtime in such a funk I couldn’t do it.

At 3pm went in the darshan line to ask for my mantra. Again very nervous and inhabited by the people who sit around Baba. Frantically smoked bedis before going. Didn’t feel anything off Baba. Confused. Kept repeating my question when the translator was telling me that Baba was asking where I came from. I said England and escaped. Took myself away, sat down and cried a little, felt very sad. Then went to the afternoon class which again cheered me up.

Was late for evening chant so stayed outside which was just as well as Baba was there. At the evening meal actually got myself together to do the water pouring. –Am beginning to meet some good people. – My ego is so afraid of humiliation. Really hoping there will be no money in Bombay and I’ll be able to go home though I suppose there is no escaping karma and destiny.

Again went to bed in hope of proper sleep, again none. Thinking of conversations with Steve and Calla. I’m sure Baba is their guru. OM NAMAH SHIVAYA.

Wednesday 24th November

Stayed in bed until5.45. My meditation is non-existent anyway so though the rest may do me good. Went to the morning chant which was very long and hard to handle because I feel I ought to make an effort. Today having trouble with my feet where my sandals have rubbed. Actually my sandals have been fucked by the thunderstorms and unseasonable rains. Went to work in the gardens which was better today, though sweaty and again I got dizzy. The guy I was working with offered to treat my foot but when he saw it he reckoned I should see the doctor. I said I couldn’t really afford it so two guys immediately gave me some money (about 13 rupees) which was really nice. I do keep spending money on tea which I sometimes feel guilty about but I’d pay back loaned money if I could. Turns out my foot is infected and now has a dressing.

-Class in morning ok. Did my water stint without disaster. Which takes to now, just in time for the afternoon chant.

-Of course I must get to meditate. Once I miss the morning period the day goes quickly and there aren’t the opportunities. I have my mantra now, should put it to work.

-The afternoon class was good. So much trust you have to put in the guru but if he initiates you with shakti power there is, apparently, no doubting it happened and after that things must get a lot easier.

Again was late for the last chant and had to sit outside but a plague of mosquitoes, flying beetles and rats sent me to the café and bed.

FIRST GOOD DAY AT THE ASHRAM.

Thursday 25th November

Last night I slept. Slept! Woke up at 3 but stayed in bed until 4.30. Had some tea then briefly tried to meditate. In the Siddha path the guru initiates and all else just follows. My meditation could certainly do with some shakti power. Went to the Guru Gita chant because Baba is really keen on that, sat in the courtyard. Didn’t stay for the subsequent chants. Went to work & class. Quite enjoyed the work, sweeping leaves. This afternoon we’re to have ‘a communication session’ which sounds very American! Not quite so scattered in my mind today though still plenty of thought of Steve and Calla. And missing Jade.

In the afternoon session people were talking about Baba and shaktipat, the guru’s initiation. Would love to get it. –Went to the evening chant and got off on the Hare Krishna chant. DECIDING I WANT SHAKTIPAT.

Friday November 26th

Woke-up at 5.30 after a reasonable night’s sleep, obsessed by wanting shaktipat. Also thinking I’d be better off not collecting Adrian’s money unless my need is great. It’d be another debt. Or is it just I’m being impatient to go home?

Is Saturday afternoon now and I can’t recall yesterday’s details. Did meditate in the afternoon, with the usual lack of success.

-At the end of the evening chant Baba announced that there will be an ‘intensive’ next weekend. As far as I can gather this is when Baba gives his touch, shaktipat. Really irresistible. The intensive costs 100 rupees. Am talking to people in the café about it, about my position without any thought of asking. Going to my bed I discover an envelope with 100 rupees in it. I suspect Paul out it there but who has guided his hand? Baba? God? Seems a clear message as to what I should do. Puts my head in a flux & takes me a long while to sleep. GOD DROPS A HEAVY HINT.

Saturday 27th November

Up at 5.30, so missing the self-promised meditation session. Guru Gita’d but didn’t last the whole thing. Worked in the garden. An Australian guy comes and tells me he’s gong to give me 50 rupees – what can I do? Is obvious I have no choice in the matter. For a while I still think I need a little more but then I remember I’ve kept £5 for the return to England and decide I must commit that to the cause. Means I’ll be totally at the mercy of the British embassy but so it goes.

Generally enjoy the day though being who I am I’m impatient first for next weekend & then for home, not because England seems attractive but because it is my nature. Was talking today to a guy about Sagittarius; it isn’t the quality of the travel that concerns them but ‘an indomitable desire to cover great distances’. Went for meditation at 5, just focused on mantra, had maybe a taste of success. Took a long time & a great effort to stay with it, to keep the mantra going even for a few minutes. Went to the evening chant because Baba was there but my stomach hurt. Went to bed very tired. REGISTERING FOR THE INTENSIVE.

Sunday 28th November

Got up 4.30 to meditate. Stuck with mantra but didn’t get anywhere. Stomach hurt. Aware hat there is a dysentery and cholera scare on at he moment in North India (though not here). Not so high at the moment. Work cut short because Baba has arranged a concert by his favourite singer. Need to pay the rent but have to go to the bank tomorrow first. –I’ve no evidence of, no feeling of Baba’s power or sainthood. When I’ve seen him in the distance I’ve seen a fairly severe figure or a man feeding his elephant. I have doubts, many doubts, about his divinity. I’m not sure about the bread scene people have mentioned because I’ve not been denied anything through lack of money. Anyway I’m staying for the intensive. I can not judge Baba, just see what he gives me and in return follow the instructions as best I can. The journey was intended to be magical and to encourage me to commit myself to magical belief but of course experience is the test. All I can do is to open up myself as far as possible to experience. The signs are good; I’ve enjoyed the last few days and the future could be interesting.

Worked in the garden. Took a good look at Baba during darshan. Went to meditate, attained a light meditative state i.e. could feel my body relax a little. Evening time chanted. Then to bed, couldn’t sleep; so tired but the mind dancing everywhere. 1 was thinking how much missing Jade disturbs me. Very emotional and really unnecessary because she doesn’t need me and has to have me for the sake of my emotion and Barbie’s conscience. VIRTUALLY A DAY OFF.

Monday 29th November

Really nothing to say. Got up 3.30 by mistake. Failed to meditate. Evening chant was really good and got very stoned on it. Felt appreciation for the scene; the ashram and I guess the magician in his courtyard. GETTING HIGH ON Hare Krishna.

Tuesday 30th November

Up at 4.30 after a better night’s sleep. Meditated unsuccessfully. During the night dreamed of Lucinda, that she’d come to India to marry me. I wasn’t very enthusiastic by enjoyed holding hands. Dream interrupted by the dogs, which always seemed to fight at night.

Have p [aid my rent so all post-ashram security gone. My foot is reinfected by really nothing to worry about.

Afternoon meditation brings first indication of a kriya with my tongue curling itself backwards. Great excitement by Dominic. Too much; brings himself out of the state. Made me very high for rest of day. Evening chant went really well. Time for bed but can’t sleep. TONGUE CURLING MEDITATION.

Wednesday 1st December

Up 4.45 for useless meditation and morning chant. Last night dreamed of a she lion that was protecting me against burglars. Reminded me of Aslan. Maybe I should think of Baba as an Aslan rather than as a god. Been drinking too much tea, 2 or 3 cups every break. Affecting my finances. The man who lent me his chantbook asked for it back. I’d lost it but it turned up at the office. A Swedish guy who had paid for 2 months says he is leaving tomorrow. Thought of substituting myself for him but can’t afford to maintain myself that long. I’ve been poverty conscious now for 3 months and it is getting to me. My clothes have disintegrated. When I get home I may have to pay back an enormous amount of money and I guess I won’t like it. In fact I bet after one night back with Steve and Calla I won’t want to be back in England at all. A guy approached me today to ask if I was the same guy who arrived last week. You look so different he said, transformed.

The guru and the inner self are one. The self of one is the self of all. I like these teachings. In meditation my body bowed. To whom?

I BOW IN MEDITATION

Thursday 2nd December

Awoke 2.30, got up 3.30. Poor meditation. Worked on the compost. Just about my last work session. Suddenly England seems very close, and cold and full of things I don’t want to face. Missed the chanting sessions to clean my clothes for the Intensive. Shame my favourite trousers have fallen apart. Day drifted by, half asleep, half in meditation. SPACED OUT SORT OF DAY

Friday 3rd December

Day One of the Intensive and what can I say? In my head I know this is one of the most important days of my life, initiation by the guru, the kundalini awoken, the shakti redirected into an irreversible ever-evolving form. But the reality was different. In the morning Baba’s touch put me into a profound depression, tears of frustration, then boredom. Incredibly disappointing though they say the work is done nevertheless whatever the experiencer feels. Felt all my old bitterness and despair. The afternoon was different. The touch got me mildly stoned, nothing compared with the experiences other described. I want bliss and I want it now.

INITIATION.

Saturday 4th December

Is 7 am now and on my way to the second day. Guess I’m hoping for something special, a good experience, to take away with me. In fact the work has been done; now it is up to the shakti and Baba. Last night slept well and dreamed I was playing beautiful music on a guitar.

6pm and it is over. Again, what to say? While the guru sat outside and said all is well, I felt inner turmoil. Baba built it up, promising a real glimpse of the Self but I didn’t have one. I felt so incredibly disappointed & angry. In my head I begged Baba to give me just a little peace, a taste of bliss, a reason to believe. But no, it seemed another god has let me down, like they do. Maybe it is my own fault, maybe I don’t cooperate, don’t love myself. Please, teach me how to love myself.

Cheered up somewhat before bedtime. Talked to a Swami. Slept very well. LAST DAY AT THE ASHRAM.

Sunday 5th December

Writing this 8 a.m. Reluctant to leave. Will miss Baba, will miss the centreing on him and fuck, Bombay promises sod all. Still…

3 p.m. Sitting at the railway station, waiting for the Bombay train. Had a final darshan this morning. Had hoped to tell Baba I was going, to thank him but I couldn’t do it. Spent 2 rupees on a ring with Baba’s image on it. Its not the Baba I saw but a cosmic & loving one who is telling me off with a smile on his face – the spirit of Baba, if not the human face I saw. Am more grateful to him for 2 experiences I had this morning. First, had a peaceful mediation in which I was getting quite high until interrupted: secondly, during lunch I was watching Hans who has been annoying me, unintentionally, all week. Suddenly I saw a look on his face, of vulnerability, that I recognized as being what I had been feeling so much of the time. I felt overwhelmed with compassion and love. I went to spoke to him, just exchanged a few friendly words to make up for my bad feelings. (A group of Indians are staring at me; I’ll light a beedi and stare back.)

9 p.m. Blown my money on a hotel room, the same one as before. Then smoked a leftover joint and got very very stoned. Wrote to Dana, told her ‘I feel I’m nearer the end’, and ‘They’ve told me all I need to know.’ S I smoke I feel I can understand everything if not experience it. Should I be meditating instead? GOODBYE BABA, HELLO REALIZATION

Monday 6th December

It is about 11 a.m. Sitting in the office of the High Commissioner waiting to see somebody. There were no letters at the post office and no money from Adrian at Thos Cook’s. Really am destitute so no need to make any decisions. Just hope this all goes smoothly. Need to get on with my spiritual path and learn how to experience the realizations I had last night without the dope. Or maybe I should leave it to the guru/god to provide dope as he/it sees fit. If only I could get rid of these petty guilts that bring me down. –This morning sat in the hotel room and chanted the Guru Gita but meditation was beyond me.

- 12.30. The Embassy want me to phone my parents to ask them for some money. I so much don’t want to do that! A girl gave me 100 rupees, which confused me. I went for a walk and remet my Indian guide. He’d worked out a scheme by which I could make some money by faking receipts when a French guy intervened and warned me off. If I have to contact my parents I’ll get the minimum amount of money and go back overland. So much don’t want to do that especially now it is winter. Am going back to the Consulate to try again.

6 p.m. No progress, even tried phoning my parents but couldn’t get through. The Consulate said they’d phone on my behalf and that I must return on Friday to see what they’ve sorted. Thanks Baba for having the girl give me the rupees. Was feeling quite overwhelmed and dispirited by the thought of going back overland but a period of meditation helped calmed me. My body seems to meditate more easily now but my mind is hopeless and now it has a 6,000 mile winter journey with limited funds to worry about. Dreadful, dreadful. Might as well light up and continue my epistle to Dana. I’m in a room with 2 Australian girls, one of whom is the spitting image of Calla. THE EMBASSY CHANGES THE SCRIPT.

Tuesday 7th December

Woke-up feeling gratitude for the various amounts of money I have received these last few weeks. At 9.a.m. a French guy passed me a chillum so apart from buying 3 rolls, bananas, an omelette and bread, I’ve spent the day in the room. Smoked and spent time in bed with no actions required of me. This evening I’ve borrowed Fanny & Zooey for a night’s read. –This morning did the Guru Gita and then in meditation my body felt forced to bow, as if to Baba’s photograph. I resisted but the bow continued. They kept telling me this is the natural yoga, that it happens to you and mostly I don’t really believe that it is true for me. Baba is with me and maybe he won’t let go. BOWING TO A PHOTOGRAPH.

Wednesday 8th December

Evening meditation, head swinging and swaying. Realize that for enlightenment to happen, Dominic has to go. Dominic is the ego, is the illusion that needs to be transcended. I guess we keep his body but he goes; his voices, his images, his attachment to being Dominic must all the surrendered. Is this the imagination or truth? Immediately thought I shouldn’t go to England because facing the Barby and Jade situation will make me the old Dominic again. On the other hand a cosmic being has no home or everywhere is his home so there’s no point in hiding. Thoughts…

Did the Guru Gita, meditated with a lot of head movement but no peace. Didn’t do much else, read, went to the post office and got a lovely letter from Dana, visited Thos Cook & then of course got stoned and carried on writing to Dana. Did think of exploring Bombay, of going to the beach even but once I got outside I lost all interest and energy. On the other hand seen an awful lot of this hotel room. LETTER FROM DANA.

Thursday 9th December

Have spent so much time writing to Dana today I’ve neglected my diary. Read Huxley’s Island today which is brilliant. Poor meditation. Been thinking about the ego. It isn’t pride, it is identity. Can’t make a better Dominic. –Got angry with the hotel owner today for leaving the door open. Does it matter whether I keep calm or not? Went to Thos Cook; still no money. READING ISLAND IN THE HOTEL ROOM.

Friday 10th December

9.30. Radio blaring next door where a group of Indian are discussing and counting money. Traffic noise from the road below is almost deafening. An Austrian guy gives me a smoke on this fateful morning. Am shitting myself with nerves, identifying with the petty self, asking ‘what’s going to happen today?’

-At the ashram people kept saying, you’ll change completely, your viewpoint, your lifestyle, everything. I thought, bullshit, I’m cleverer than that. But sitting here, stoned now, I think maybe I am wrong and perhaps it will change me. This dope is really strong and on it I think I can almost see the truth.

-4.30. Back in the hotel. Made an effort to get away. First I went to Thos Cook, no money, then to the Embassy who sent me to a bank to pick-up money from my parents. Bank took some persuading but finally released the money. Went to station to book sleeper to Delhi. Met a guy who offered me cut price deal for train in 2 hours. Rush about, get myself together, arrive at station, no train. Check ticket, train is for tomorrow! So, 110 dollars to get back home. Wasted a fair bit tonight on good food at a good restaurant. THE ARRIVAL OF MONEY TO GO HOME WITH.

Saturday 11th December

Up fairly early to find book to red, failed. Had a nice walk interrupted by bad stomach. Is 10 am; have come back to the hotel to recuperate (get stoned). Meant to get visa photos but didn’t. Must keep it in mind. Went for another walk, on impulse, to find Baba books. Liked Bombay more. Went back to hotel for another smoke then to railway station. On train now. Did I have a sleeper? No. Read Zola and repeated my mantra until I sat uncomfortably against the window and closed my eyes. BEGINNING THE LONG JOURNEY BACK.

Sunday 12th December

Woke-up cold and fearing the journey ahead, the cold and the roads. Did the Guru Gita and took heart. Just read myself through the hours of travel and repeated the mantra to fight my way through the bouts of fear. Moments of hating the thought of going back and facing the Barby and Jade stuff and moments of unbearable impatience to get to he end of the journey. Arriving at Delhi quickly changed trains and made for Amritsar. Fortunately met a guy who shared his dope and his blanket with me. HURRYING ON TO AMRITSAR.

Monday 13th December

Staggering off the train immediately bumped into a guy who seemed to have pretty much the same plan as me, to get to England as quickly as possible. Bill. Overjoyed at the prospect of company. Sudden seemed a possibility that I might not freeze to death or crash in Turkey. Then lost him at the border at Amritsar when he was sent back. I collected my confiscated money by cycling in the sunshine to a different checkpoint. Into Pakistan and Lahore, then a 3rd class ticket to Pershawer. Spirits fell in Lahore, especially when I lost my Baba ring. Was trying really hard to collect myself but praying for company so delighted to remeet Bill and a South African gut called Amir. My third successive night on the train was a bit of an ordeal but survived it well 5 a.m. did the Guru Gita but meditation seems impossible and the mantra slips away in conversation and tiredness. THE WORST TRAIN OF THEM ALL.

Tuesday 14th December

In Pershaver. Amazingly French Christine still here. Tried to get ticket to keep going, couldn’t. Got stoned. Listen to fabulous Hendrix song, ‘may this be love’. RAINBOW GUEST HOUSE

Wednesday 15th December

Spent day sorting out visa and bus. A DAY IN PERSHAWER.

Thursday 16th December

Spent a beautiful day crossing the Khyber Pass. Amazing scenery, very smooth drive. Now in Kabul, stuffing myself with food and getting very very stoned. Meditated, body moving in kriyas, laughing a lot as I think of Baba. Maybe leave early in the morning to Herat. Have got a cold. BABA IN KABUL.

Friday 17th December

Up at 4 but couldn’t find bus. Now back in hotel, waiting for a joint, trying to put troubles aside. Might as well enjoy this road even if it is the wrong one. – Got very stoned the rest of the day. The Afghanis constantly praise Afghanistan and I don’t blame them because it is looking very beautiful today. Got too stoned. Did nothing but eat and then sleep. Then got stoned again, really cosmic and full of meditation movement, then ate again and slept again. Rearranged tickets for tomorrow. IN KABUL DOING KABUL THINGS.

Saturday 18th December

Up at 2.30 for bus at 5. Smart comfortable bus. Left on time, drove 20 mins out of Kabul, stopped, threw us out and made us wait 2 hours for a dirty old farting bus with rock hard seats. Beautiful journey though, truckng through the snow. Did the Guru Gita twice: during the 2nd rendition our bus hit another one and a lump of glass flashed past my bended head and hit the guy behind me, embedding itself in his head. The Afghanis wrapped his turban more thoroughly around his head and carried on with the blood colouring the makeshift bandaging. – Sometimes the cold is beautiful, sometimes it is cold. Time passes and I begin my birthday on a cold bus.

A BUS ACCIDENT DURING THE GURU GITA.

Sunday 19th December

Arrived Heart 6 am, Got bus that crawled to border at 8. Is very very cold here. Just treated myself to a birthday lunch – rice! Felt tired and a bit depressed during rest of day. Now back in Meshad, same hotel as before. Is very cold. HAPPY 24th BIRTHDAY DOMINIC

Monday 20th December

The early morning news is that I’m stuck again. After a great night’s sleep went in to Meshad to look for a bus. Can’t find one that leaves before 3p.m. tomorrow and that’s an express costing 500 rials. My head is spaced out by the cold and my stomach is still bad. Find it hard to put this journey aside and focus on meditation but I’m trying. –Is now mid-afternoon and the sun is going down. Am sat in a very hot hotel room with 2 english guys on their way to Afghanistan. The money is disappearing fast but the rest is good and the warmth amazing. Went for a little walk and felt quite happy though with little enthusiasm for travel. Felt ok in Meshad today. When you’re free and relaxed the people are bearable. Too hot in the room to sleep! HOTLY IN THE HOTEL ROOM AT MESHAD.

Tuesday December 21st

Had a strange dream last night. It was my birthday and to my amazement Baba had come to the party. I was so moved that I hugged him and held him and tried to take refuge with him. Then he took down my trousers and sucked my dick in front of everyone. I didn’t care and I took it to mean that all of me was cleansed. Then Baba took me off to a line of girls to have sex with but even in the dream I knew this was a bit over the top and I woke up! –had a nice meditate full of strange yogic movements. Then washed my clothes and my hair and put iodine on my infected foot. Went for a walk and got offered a job selling carpets to the tourists. Felt very tempted but I’d already bought a bus-ticket. Bus left at 3, warm and comfortable. DOMINIC THE PERSIAN CARPET SALESMAN/

Wednesday December 22nd

Arrive in Tehran and it is full of snow, beautiful but cold snow, Decided to get a bus to Erzerum but it doesn’t leave until tomorrow so then changed my plan to get a different, more expensive, bus all the way to Istanbul leaving tonight. Went to the bank where I met an Iranian who offered me 70 dollars to go to Erzerum and back with him in order to smuggle in his car on my passport. It means an extra 1500 miles and two more trips across Tahir Mountain. I agreed because I thought that was the right thing to do. Certainly it will help finance the rest of the journey home and only delay me a week or so. CHANGE OF PLOT IN TEHERAN

Thursday December 23rd

Nothing much. Caught bus at 6 with possibility of not having to go to Erzerum. Sent letter and christmas card to Jade. Spent most of day on bus with Eddie, feeling groggy and with my temperature rising. NOTHING BUT CATCHING A BUS WITH EDDIE.

Friday December 24th

Slept briefly on bus and dreamt I was in a minibus with people trying to prove the harmlessness of snakes & leopards. I felt the snake encircle my neck and thought it was strangling me. Got to Erzerum. It is snowing. Thick snow, a white christmas. The room Eddie has chosen is neat but not very warm. Being here realize how cacophonic Tehran was. Wouldn’t have been a good place to work. A WHITE CHRISTMAS EVE IN ERZERUM.

Saturday December 25th

Fortunately delayed until Monday. Eddie is impatient, I’m ill. Feverish. Eddie wants to move to a cheaper hotel but I won’t let him. Ate a lot because it is christmas. In the evening met a swedish guy and we chatted for a while in the café as we watched the snow falling. At one point the bus driver came in and appeared to die. I was told it was just the effect of strong alcohol. The swede thinks I may have tonsillitis or mumps. CHRISTMAS.

Sunday December 26th

With the fever come intense dreams, one of my schooldays remembered with perfect clarity, a second in which I suddenly saw that my parents and brother and sisters were actually nice open people and I was the one at fault. Sweating profusely. Only got up to drink some milk. This is my usual fever, the fourth of the year. Remained ill all day, sometimes shivering so much with cold that I couldn’t breathe then at other times soaking the bed with my sweat. Baba give me strength. FEVER

Monday 27th December

Woke up feeling better. 10 am now, head hurting but bearable. –Eddie fixed us a lift with other freaks doing the same trip. Treated to a beautiful ride in the mountains, like the artic with a deep blue sky, rivers and frozen lakes, even an eagle. After a cold border crossing we drove a little further and then tried to sleep in the car. I can’t sleep, suddenly full of peace and joy as if I’d reached home. A MAGICAL JOURNEY IN THE SNOW

Tuesday 28th December

More or less recovered from being ill. Spent most of the day speeding through awesome countryside in a BMW. SPEEDING THROUGH THE SNOW

Wednesday 29th December

Eddie comes at 1 to take me for a meal. Rice & meat of course. Nothing else happens. Hang out in Teheran. DOING VERY LITTLE

Thursday 30th December

WAITING FOR EDDIE TO PHONE

Friday 31st December

STILL WAITING FOR EDDIE and getting a bit pissed off.

Saturday 1st Jan 1977

Not a good start to the year which is a Moslem day of mourning. Beginning to suspect I’ve been ripped off. Where’s my money Eddie? Where’s my passport? Where’s Eddie? WHERE’S MY PASSPORT?

Sunday 2nd January

Not looking good. WORRYING ABOUT EDDIE

Monday 3rd January

Was on my way to the police when I found Eddie in a café. He promised that everything would get sorted tomorrow and I’d be on my way again. In the evening got stoned, talked a lot, realized a lot and then went to sleep. Was offered work again and tempted to stay. What is the right thing to do? BABA FINDS EDDIE

Tuesday 4th January

Concluded business as, with some reluctance, Eddie paid. Seems Istanbul bus has been delayed until tomorrow so maybe it is local Turkish buses for me.

CONCLUDING BUSINESS

Wednesday 5th January

Got ticket to Erzerum but bus cancelled because of the snow. SNOW STOPS BUS

Thursday 6th January

Bought a ticket to Istanbul. Bunch of freaks on the bus. Snow is very thick so we don’t go far at all. A LOT OF SNOW

Friday 7th January

Use vallium to sleep. Coach still barely moved as we remained stuck in an ice cold snow blizzard. BLIZZARD.

Saturday 8th January

Bus gets moving and we cross the border back into Turkey. BACK TO TURKEY

Sunday 9th January

My throat infection erupts again; don’t know the cause. Shivering and with feverish dreams. Mary dispenses pills. For the 2nd day in row fail to do the Guru Gita. As we arrive in Istanbul my fever lifts a little. Saw a bus going to Amsterdam tomorrow. Think I may get it even though it is more expensive than it ought to be. As we got off the bus our little group told each other how much we had enjoyed the journey and company. SUDDENLY ISTANBUL.

Monday 10th January

10 a.m. now, bus goes at 6p.m. Ticket to Amsterdam is 49 dollars. My throat is bad but the fever not so intense. Arrived at bus station to discover bus non-existent. Squabbled with Turks who only gave some of the money back. Got a bus to the Bulgarian border which crawled along and then stopped for 7 hours. AND OUT OF TURKEY.

Tuesday 11th January

Bus is a farce. Run by a Turkish slob with no idea of us being customers. Am very tired. Didn’t sleep because coughing too much. The bus driver won’t give us our change in Bulgarian money and takes us for an unwanted posh communist lunch instead. –Still no sleep as we enter Yugoslavia and are held up by the seemingly inevitable car accidents. Just surviving though at moments quite high, especially in the communist countries, in Sofia particularly which reminded me of my teenage Russian revolutionary fantasies. A HARD DAY ON THE MUNICH BOUND BUS.

Wednesday 12th January

Writing this at the end of the trip and having trouble recalling much of this bus journey which passed in a haze. Had a dog sniff all over me at the Yugoslav border and the Germans took us to a cold customs shed where they opened and went through everything. The vibe got quite heavy when the Turks got drunk, heavy and aggressive and we tired, bemused and doubting we’d ever get to Munich. Anyway we did and I’m now checking out buses to England. As I slept on a bench in the railway station waiting room I left my body and started floating around. Outside my body I dance to the sound of bees in my ears. When I came to I was in a better mood. ASTRAL DANCING IN MUNICH.

Thursday 13th January

Day begins at 5. At 8 told there are no buses to London. Reckon I have just about enough money to get to Ostend if I don’t eat. I’m going to ask an Australian guy whether he could lend me £10 to get me to London. –Turns out he couldn’t. I suppose I could hitch but it is very cold and I’m not feeling so strong. –Have got a train, to Aachen and I’ll hitch from there through Belgium. Then I’ll have just enough to get across the channel. –Train rides proves to be very smooth and quiet in the company of three middle-aged Germans, one of whom feeds me cough sweets. Slept solidly for 6 hours. ASLEEP ON THE TRAIN.

Friday 14th January

Awoke at 4.30 am. A lady gave me bananas and orange juice for breakfast. 5.30 Arrive in Aachen which is wet rather than cold and approach a guy to ask where the autobahn is. He puts me in his car and takes me to the border. Almost immediately get a very fast lift to Brussels from a guy who gives me his sandwiches and 200 Belgian francs. Walked through Brussels and then had a succession of lifts which ended in a small village where an intensely cold wind blew. Was beginning to freeze when I had my final lift, to Ostend, and received my final gift, another 200 Belgian francs. Magic! Now in Ostend and I’ve spent every last franc on a train to London. The weather is bad so the ferry may not run. –It did run. Even though the sea was choppy, I slept. Now in London. The English people look as strange and as antiquated as the Indians did. Will meet my father in a couple of hours and drive back to reading. The journey is over. Om Namah Shivaya. THE MAGICAL LAST DAY.

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