Christmas at the rum jungle Hotel and Other stories


by
Jonathan Evans

 

“Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run, but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant.”

Hunter S. Thompson

It’s been kind of quiet lately, so I’ve been going through a lot of junk in the house with the idea of finally getting rid of some things. I had to stop, though, when I came across a box full of old photographs. Most were of relatives and stuff, but one stood out, it was of a much younger and slimmer me hitchhiking on a dusty road in southern Spain. It was 1969 and, after a summer working in the bars of the Costa Brava, I was headed for Morocco where, after a series of unfortunate incidents which I won’t go into just now, I ended up in hospital. Anyway, there I am, young, innocent and bound for glory and, as I looked at that photograph, memories of nearly forgotten names and places started trickling in.

I was so taken with the picture that I posted it on Facebook, and, after a while, other images started arriving. One was of me, again hitchhiking, in the Australian outback in the late 70s and then an old friend, Hilary, sent one of me standing outside the ‘Cozy Corner Hubbly Bubbly Room’ in Kathmandu.

Thinking about these photographs got me thinking about all the weird and wonderful people and places I’ve encountered over the years.

Some of the stories which follow are set in the late 1960s, a time before travel guides like Lonely Planet even existed, and most are set in the 70s and 80s, times when we could travel the world simply by putting our thumbs out, and letting the journey take us to wherever it wanted to go.

I hope you enjoy them.