The Swingin’ Sixties. A time that will never be repeated. Those of us who remain, remember and reflect, stumbled headlong into experiences that spawned countless songs, books and movies. Rampant libido, cheap drinks, free love... Liberation – and undoubtedly, generational rebellion.
So I find myself in Hydra, a Greek island in the Aegean, in the early 1960s. Sitting in Katsikas taverna, in the dusky gloam of springtime, waiting and watching. People. A melting pot of creative types. Artists, writers, poets, musicians. Escaping the crush of cities, the frustrations and disappointments. Rejection of their manuscripts, living on a shoestring. Yet happy in a bohemian way with fellow travellers. Seeking inspiration from certain substances. No questions asked. Locals are bemused, tolerant. It’s a happy, if grungy, scene.
Via an introduction from my…
