Alan Samson - Me. and Me Now: A 1970s Kiwi Hippie Trail Adventure

Contents

Me. And me now

A 1970s Kiwi Hippie Trail Adventure

Alan Samson

Publishing information

First published in 2021

Copyright Alan Samson 2021

The right of Alan Samson to be identified as the author of this work in terms of section 96 of the New Zealand Copyright Act 1994 is hereby asserted.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

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ISBN 978-0-473-53140-9 (print)

Publishing adviser: Ann Howarth

Cover photo: an uneasy calm in Bangkok at the end of Thailands 1973 10-day war.

Title page photo: author Alan Samson, 1973.

Every effort has been made to trace the copyright holders and obtain permission to reproduce photos. Please get in touch with any enquiries or any information relating to images or the rights holder.

Dedication

This memoir of self-exploration along the hippie trail in the early seventies is for Alastair. I dearly hope that its expression of his fathers flaws, mistakes, idiocies and recklessness will provide him and any other reader with some insights into the trail, the times, and the authors eccentricities. I hope too that it gives readers enjoyment. At the very least it was a rollicking good adventure.

[The hippie trail] youthful travellers whose motivations and hopes seem incredibly nave from todays perspective, but who, nevertheless, often displayed a fearless attitude to travel and an optimistic expectation that their journeys would be transformational (S. Gemie & B. Ireland, The Hippie Trail: A History ).

Acknowledgements

A very special thanks is owed to my friend Ann Howarth who helped me hugely with every aspect of the confusing publishing process and whose enthusiasm, unbeknown to her, on several occasions kept me from giving up. Thanks too to the close friends and relatives I have incessantly peppered for support over several years who could not be blamed for doubting a published work would ever see the light of day: alphabetically, Karen Goodger, Ken Samson, Greg Stutchbury, Ali Tocker and Alastair Tye Samson.

Introduction

The following is the story of a young New Zealanders travels through Southeast Asia, India, Pakistan and Afghanistan in the early 1970s. The trek itself might not have been unique, but the times certainly were. These were the days of heightened idealism among many of the worlds youth as the Vietnam War escalated before the inconceivable defeat of the mighty power that was the United States of America. These were also the days of a mass migration of young travellers, many styling themselves as hippies or freaks, wandering the so-called hippie trail, beginning from the southern hemisphere or the northern, but invariably landing in Asia.

Along the way, these travellers invariably saw and did many of the same things. Theirs was a commonality of interest spurred on by an internationally burgeoning anti-war movement, fuelled further by a healthy dollop of idealism and experimentation the last an odd mix of drugs and the great eastern religions. Some of their adventures were extraordinary. Like thousands of others, I dabbled in all of the above. Part of a madding crowd, my experiences might hardly be worth a second look, except for the fact perhaps as a latent journalist I kept an extensive diary of not only my dabblings, but an eye on the smouldering background of the South and Southeast Asian region.

These were truly historic times for South and Southeast Asia: wars continuing, wars ending, wars looming, not to mention coups and insurgencies. Through all, the hippie trail wound its inexorable way, largely oblivious to its political surroundings. Unfortunately, on the relatively few occasions its story has been told, it has been overly romanticised or trivialised. But it, too, is part of the history. If for that reason alone, this one mans experience of the tide bears telling. I hope it is of interest.

Footnote

The Me. And me now title for my retrospective is not my invention, but I hope it captures something of the metamorphoses forged out of the life-forming journeys of the thousands of young men and women who for decades have embarked on lengthy travels and, upon their inevitable and expected return, steered their ensuing lives and philosophies from a base of their experiences. Even though his reference was to something else entirely (All yielding she tossed my hair. Kissed, she kissed me. Me. And me now), I thank the rollicking James Joyce ( Ulysses ) for his inventiveness.

For authenticity, I have adhered to the names of places as they were at the times of my travel. Ceylon was newly renamed Sri Lanka, East Pakistan had recently become Bangladesh, but Myanmar was still Burma, Yangon still Rangoon, Mumbai still Bombay etc. For reasons of courtesy and privacy, I refer to my numerous travelling companions by their first names only, reserving surnames for officials or otherwise significant characters, confident that even the most indiscreet of their stories will not put them in harms way after a nearly 50-year hiatus.

Alan Samson

Me

By the time I reached my twenties, I had done the not-uncommon, in fact expected Kiwi thing of lurching through numerous, disparate jobs, played sport with little skill but great enthusiasm, as well as the similarly young Kiwi thing of over-drinking and partying. I grew up with New Zealands notorious 6 oclock swill. I did not do drugs, though not from any purity of spirit they simply were not a part of my or my friends repertoire. I had no clear idea of what I wanted to do with my life.

Then, nearly 50 years ago, I had an OE (overseas experience) that changed my outlook on different cultures, religions, philosophies, and aspirations. It was an OE born out of others as well as self-expectations what else was a Kiwi supposed to do in his early 20s? Notably, it was also an OE that unexpectedly plunged me into the early 1970s maelstrom of a Vietnam War-era hippie trail, marked by drugs, spiritual seeking, and a healthy dollop of idealism. And when I returned home, miraculously, I found my way into journalism, that imperfect but rich profession that, to this day, encourages the pursuit of truth and fairness.

The hippie trail I stumbled into is difficult to quantify. The concept comes with no clear boundaries let alone definition. It cannot be explained according to where its travellers departed from, or the precise routes that they took. But for thousands of young travellers heading to the heart of the Middle East and South and Southeast Asia in the 1960s and 1970s typically to Nepal, India and Afghanistan and, for some, on to North Africa it was a powerful magnet.

In their The Hippie Trail: A History , Gemie and Ireland assert the trail had no official existence. No flag identified its territory; no organisation directed its travellers; no leader wrote its manifesto; no prominent philosophers attempted to make sense of it; no major novelists have written about it; and no archive has been created to preserve its memory. The researchers found two reasonably articulate arguments used to justify doing the trail: a search for cheaper, better or more easily available drugs, and a spiritual quest. Many travellers found that there was another, equally important, dimension to their experience: their inner journey. In other words, travelling along the trail affected them.