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 …

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 !!!”