INTO AFGHANISTAN WITH BOB DYLAN, 1976

DIARY OF AN 18 YEAR-OLD: THE FIRST IN A SELECTION OF POSTS FROM MY OVERLAND ADVENTURE TO KATHMANDU IN 1976 – TAKEN FROM MY DIARY

[This day saw our arrival in Afghanistan via the high Khojak Pass at Chaman - an age-old trading, smuggling and invading route.  My first impression of Afghanistan was of the starkly beautiful landscape and evening skies.  I remember entering Kandahar after nightfall and being entranced by the rows of open-fronted shops lit up by oil lamps; horses eating and snorting contentedly in the chill evening air.  We stayed at a cheap, hotel with groovy music where the friendly staff lent us heavy black woollen blankets - I've never come across such warm ones again.  Over the years I've watched the news of Kandahar being bombed, captured and reduced in parts to rubble, and grieved for this place and the people who were kind to us.  I still hold onto my memory of a magical winter evening there - my first night in Afghanistan]

SATURDAY 20TH NOVEMBER, 1976

“Left Quetta early, headed for Afghan border.  Had breakfast on outskirts of small village.  Shirley was shown round the prison!  Climbed to Spin Boldak – stark hills covered in shale.
3 checks on Pakistani side of border and 2 on Afghan side – had to fill in loads of forms, while officials scribbled what we’d declared into our passports.

A real character of a moneychanger – very bossy but rather friendly and open – was in charge of stamping forms and made a mess rather like a big thumb print (must be stuck for things to say in mine!)

Afghan scenery – flat plains surrounded by dark barren mountains – really impressive in the evening sun – dramatic clouds with bright yellow sky behind grey-purple hills.  Then a fantastic crimson sunset across the plain.
Reached Kandahar – six of us dossed in a room (a floor same as camping rates).  At the moment am sitting in the eating room of hotel listening to Bob Dylan’s Greatest Hits and writing this (obviously!)  Room decorated with streamers and pop posters – quite a few young Europeans etc eating here.  Neva and I had a chat with 2 American girls – next to them were some Dutch blokes.  Chatted with an Irishman, Italian and Frenchman!
Super warm night on floor of hotel room.”

Diary of an Overlander

On the road with Swagman Overland, Asian Greyhound

How many people out there went on the overland trail to India – from London to Kathmandu or beyond – in the heydey of the 1960s and 70s?  I was one of them!  The summer of ’76 was known for its heatwave and water shortage; I had just left school and was singing School’s Out For Ever along with Alice Cooper.  I was off to India – the place where my mother had spent her early childhood and my grandparents had worked and lived in the ’20s and ’30s.  I had flared jeans, a rucksack, new sleeping bag from Blacks Outdoor Shop, an instamatic camera, a bright orange cagoule with the flexibility of chainmail and a bottle of Kaolin & Morphine to ward off the squits.
Nobody seems to remember that the autumn of ’76 was one of the wettest.  My family waved me off from a rain-splashed Durham station.  The next day – a drizzly, cold early Sunday morning in late September – I embarked on a three month camping adventure across Asia with a group of total strangers.  The coach was an old Bristol bus; I sat in a seat facing backwards.  The company, Asian Greyhound: Swagman Overland Tours, was run by an Australian known as Uncle Norm.  Looking back, I’m amazed my parents let me go.  My Dad said he prayed a lot.

With over 30 years of gestation, the experience has moulded itself into a novel; a travel mystery called THE VANISHING OF RUTH.  

It’s a vanished world – a privileged one for Westerners who could travel at will, strike up transient friendships and drink in all the amazing sites en route (or in some cases just drink).  I never stopped being amazed at the generosity of strangers or the persistence of kids.

I’ll be sharing some of the diary entries and photos in my posts, and showing how these were influential in writing the novel. Travel back in time with me …

Balochistan And The Vanishing of Ruth

Much of the inspiration for The Vanishing of Ruth came from the overland trip I made from the UK to Kathmandu in 1976. I kept a diary, and wrote letters home, using aerogramme stationery. You wrote on the special, lightweight paper, which you then folded up to make the envelope – like this one I sent from Kabul in Afghanistan:

As you can see, I had a LOT to tell the folks back home!

When I came to write The Vanishing of Ruth, I had plenty of source material, but still needed to do the things that every author has to settle down to sooner or later – mapping out the overall plot and characters, in this case with a mind map:

I also needed to fill in a whole bunch of gaps – I’d travelled just one route through Afghanistan and Pakistan, and for certain key events in the book a LOT more detail was needed. I spent many hours hidden away in Newcastle’s Lit. & Phil. Society library, poring over Stamford’s Compendium to get the details right on Balochistan (it’s the south west corner of Pakistan, where some critical twists in the plot take place):

I’m not entirely sure that my handwriting’s improved over the years!

The Vanishing Of Ruth: Exhibition Material

I’m really pleased about this – some of the original research materials for The Vanishing of Ruth is to be featured as part of the Lit & Phil (that’s the Literary and Philosophical Society) exhibition on North East authors.

The exhibition – Creative Passions: An exhibition celebrating literature in portraits and words runs from 1st February to 3rd March 2012.

Hopefully if you’re in Newcastle in February, you’ll have time to pop into the Lit & Phil – it’s one of my favourite buildings in the North East, and a great place to work on my writing. The materials I’ve submitted for the exhibition include:

• Diary extracts from Day 1 and Day 53 of my overland trip of 1976 from the Isle of Skye to Kathmandu.
• Day 53′s entry was written in Balochistan, which formed one of the key settings for The Vanishing of Ruth. I refreshed my knowledge on the area some thirty-odd years later with the help of the Lit & Phil’s copy of Stanford’s Compendium on Balochistan.
• A letter written home from Afghanistan. Beautiful country, and wonderful people!

More on the Vanishing of Ruth later in the week…

Is It Really Thirty Five Years?

How time flies when you’re having fun! Thirty five years ago I had just returned from a trip of a lifetime.

Three months overland by bus from London to Kathmandu – a trip that became the seed that grew into The Vanishing of Ruth.

Arriving in Kathmandu I discovered there was no air ticket home so had to spend the last of my money going to Delhi were it was supposed to be waiting. In those days you couldn’t just slap down your plastic and get on the next available flight! Luckily a friend from the trip, Nikki, was in the same position as – guess what? – when we got to Delhi just before New Year, there were no tickets there either!

It took 2 weeks of excitements, tears and strange encounters before we managed to get flights home – but that’s another story! From my diary:

WEDNESDAY 12TH JANUARY, 1977

“Up at 4.0!  Packed and had toast and coffee.  John drove me in the bus; had tea at airport – checked in.  Unclaimed black bag near us!  We told 4 people, including Security, but not bothered!  John and Bob are taking the bus off today – making for Europe in 4 weeks – will be freezing trip eg Turkey minus 40 degrees at night!  Offered me a lift back and pay at other end if got stuck – nearly had to take it!

Security checks etc – finally on plane.  Next to nice ex-British Council man (like Hoppy [Canon Hopkins of Durham Cathedral] though not quite as vague!)  accompanying nice little lad back to school.  Told him of my adventure – he took half of journey working out the length of the journey!

Stopped at Barhain - swarthy blokes with cloths wrapped round heads and in jumpsuits came on board – no not a high-jack – they were the cleaners!  From plane saw Gulf and flat beaches, low buildings – all very oily and drab.  Landed at Damascus - armed guard, took ages for people to board.  Flat wasteland all around; but when took off saw great snow-capped mountains - flew over Lebanon and then Turkey.

Landed at Heathrow an hour late – journey taken about 13 and a half hours!  At Heathrow after customs etc, got bus to Terminus 1 and picked up money plus ticket for Newcastle.  Missed original flight.  Suddenly theloudspeaker boomed my name and ordered me to Information; feeling important but afraid I went – it was Mum and Dad wondering why I wasn’t on plane!  I must be the most well-known lost traveller in the whole air flight business!

Had much needed half pint.  Plane late (so what’ new!)  Onto plane finally - ordered Martini and fell asleep, woke to hear we’re about to land!  No time for drink.  Hostress asked me if I was feeling alright.

Dad and Don [eldest brother] to greet me – in their Russian coats!  Snow thick on ground.  As drove home – told of great Delhi saga!  Mum and Barbara [sister-in-law] waiting.  Don and Barbara opened champagne for me.  Debbie [school friend] rang!  Flowers from Jock [Durham friend] and card from “the whole damn bunch”!  Torq [brother] phoned; just missed them.  Phoned Rory and Uncle Donald.

Wine with slap-up meal.  Gave presents – much concern over beedies - obviously hash at least.  Don said when you get to the string you bail out!  (Dad smoked the wrong end!)  After 26 hours finally fell into bed!  Adventure over !!!”