It's a labour of love to scan and retouch those old Kodachromes...

Some time during my second year at university a chance conversation over dinner inspired the idea of what we now know as a gap year. Back then a journey from Australia to Europe was seen as a once-in-a-lifetime experience, a rite of passage often funded by finding work in England. Those who went before me had usually travelled by sea, passing through the Suez or the Panama Canals, and stayed away for six or twelve months. There was no email, no mobile phones, no credit cards and, above all, no internet. The Poste Restante (mail held for collection) counters at major post offices were my sole link with home; phoning home was not undertaken lightly.

In February 1974, just after my 21st birthday, I landed in a rather wintry Rome and set out hitch-hiking back and forth across Europe. European motorists proved equally hospitable to a young long-haired Australian, once I had learnt to negotiate the expressway networks. Hostels were the lodging of choice, not only for the cost but for the companionship they offered (plus, once in a while, spare beds in the homes of family contacts and former penfriends).

By early September I was heading steadily eastwards by bus and by train, overland across Asia on the so-called Hippie Trail - see Part II.