In April 1967 my father and I drove
from Singapore
to London in
a Citroën ID 19. I was
18 years old at the time and was enrolled at the University of Hamburg in the winter
semester 1967.
As Burma (now Myanmar) was impassable by
road, we shipped the car from Penang
to Madras (now Chennai), then drove
through India,
Pakistan,
Afghanistan,
Iran
and Turkey to Europe. We had intended to
travel to Israel, but the timing proved to
be inappropriate: we would have arrived there round the end of May, just before the
beginning of the Six-Day War. On
advice from the British Consul in Tehran,
we chose not to go. I often wonder if that was the correct choice.
