toby philpott                                                                                                                   last updated:   22 January, 2007

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                     The Sixties

Things were Happening - situationists everywhere - so many changes - the Six Day War in Israel, Vietnam, of course, small riots in London, big riots in Paris - Americans arriving on the run from the draft - all the layers of freakdom, from the Chelsea rich kids to the squats in Notting Hill - the Russians invade Czechoslovakia - forget the minor images of drugs, long hair and bare feet - the whole educational establishment was challenged, censorship ended, it became legal to be gay, or even to commit suicide (if you had to... at least it didn't make you a posthumous criminal!) It was all pretty raw, but there were seeds of the Green movement, and Feminism and all sorts of good stuff - and the music is still hard to beat.  

So anyway, I ended up in Paris in 1970 when the tension was stillThe ateliers in 2004 - I am not sure which one we were in... quite a lot higher than in London. I earned enough money selling jewellery on the streets - and squatting in an artist's atélier in Alesia (hey alliteration!) with the fabulous Nelly Gareau - to get some choice. I was rather thin on nerve and resources, but I  took the plunge and accepted Nelly's invitation to go round the world, by working.

Everyone was going East to India at the time. [The Hippie Trail.]

 We went West to The States and, eventually, California. Never made enough to go to Japan. Fell in love with America. Spent 18 months there, and I might still have been there if things had worked out. Nelly went back later.

Living by myself on the beach in Bolinas, however (after an abrupt separation) - fun though it was - was also the place for a true revelation about the nature of the world. I came back from a swim, to my little clearing,  to find my passport and money gone. Suddenly, alone on the planet, 6000 miles from home, no immediate friends, no way of proving who you are (!) no money, no job, no house, etc.  Amazing what a zing that puts in your stride. 

So anyway, it was after I replaced the passport that I could only get one more 6 month visa - no renewals. My passport said 'archaeologist' [which sounds posh] and, with the cheek of youth, I always said I was doing 'private research in anthropology' [ a truth I was willing to defend in court - I was just studying the 'natives' of California]. Anyway, 'They' didn't want to give me more than another six months...

We had to go to Mexico. [Nelly and I had met up again]. The weather drove us south, and the poverty had stopped us going on west across the Pacific, so eventually (after a side trip to Austin, Texas) we crossed the border going South, at Laredo. But that's another whole story.

Go straight to Mexico - well, go direct, anyway....

Mexican trip