This page contains a significant number of German words and phrases. Possibly Google Translate can help, though it's pretty flaky.

Friday, 1 September 1967	Lüneburg
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Summer is gone, and autumn is here.

As mentioned earlier, it's strange that I thought that autumn began at the beginning of the month and not at the equinox. Autumn didn't start until 24 September 1967.

The seasons carry on in their never-ending way, and I find it a depressing reminder of how quickly time is slipping underneath our feet. Old Omar Khayyam probably had a few thoughts about it—but he was obsessed with Spring: “Now the New Year reviving old desires, the thoughtful soul to solitude retires...” What the hell. Weather was grotty this morning, as if to show us what we could expect from Autumn, and as I set of barefoot to school, it made me wonder what is so nice about seasons.

I didn't really experience seasons until I was 13 years old; prior to that I was either too young or in the tropics. I still have difficulties with changing seasons, and particularly with the change in the length of the day.

As school, Fräulein Weber came in and introduced herself and made herself acquainted with our names, and then promptly sprung us into the middle of a Nacherzählung, which I thought rather a nasty trick. Still, it was a very easy Nacherzählung, and I finished before 1000 hrs, and into town to discovered that it is not possible to buy Pelikan nibs over the counter in Germany—the whole pen has to be sent off to Hannover and have the thing replaced there, and what is more, it costs DM 12.70, not including postage and workmanship. All very confusing. Then on with what was left of the morning with a bird learning some more concrete facts about Word Order, etc. At last our pretty new Lehrerin has given us a more concrete rule for general word order. I expect, though, she will expand it yet further.

Then off to lunch, where I decided, over some grotty soup [?] that I would need to buy a new pen, as biros are grotty, and so borrowed again DM 20 from Guy, (having just paid him back this morning for having borrowed it yesterday), and off to look for a new Pelikan, and discovered that they have discontinued the old model like mine, which is a great pity, but nevertheless eventually found one and bought it for DM 27.00—a 400, which is better than my old 140. Off back to school with my proud posesion [sic], and did my Aufgabe and copied up this morning's notes with real live Fount India carbon ink, and then off to buy some food at Karstadt, and had my “driver rating” tested—without glasses, which hardly hindered me, and so off, having not done badly, back to school, where before long back with this wonderful looking tart (make her about 23-24), who is teaching us, and on with some rather heavy Syntax, though at least it is beginning to tie up now, and when I can get some decent time, I shall have to get down to copying out all these notes neatly (well, everything's relative).

Then Pause, and back after that to practice what she had been preaching, which had been quite a bit, with the result that this kept us going for quite awhile. Talking to Herrn Doyle about tolerance after—I get the impression that he does not approve of my attire, but has enough sense to leave people to their own customs and respect them. After makan, met some girls with Guy and Dave, then off to see a rather disappointing „Tugend läuft Amok“, and then back to read more of „Dear John“ [sic], which is much better, and finished that (at 0100 hrs).

Saturday, 2 September 1967	Lüneburg
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Oh, the times I wake up, look at my watch, realise it is already 0800 hrs, and feel like going back to sleep—of course, last night's late night did not help any, but I am sure that I should not feed so tired only 7 hours sleep [sic]. It must be the potatoes, or at any rate some part of the diet (actually, come to think of it, I think it is the environment. Give me something to get up for, and I will be up).

Weather as grotty as ever today, and so got my feet wet almost as soon as I stuck my head out of the door, which does not help them much. Anyway, got to school before my feet fell off, and before long Frl. Weber (she would look a lot nicer if she didn't have this ridiculous short hair) came in and started discussing with us the future, and then on about our last Referat for the Prüfung—I had forgotten about that. I want to talk on the history of the SLR, but she says it has to be something to do with Germany—it is rather borderline, but I think that it will not be passed because it is a technical subject. What the hell. On with things like Konjunktiv again, and after the Pause (in which a brief Brief from Corinna) on with Subjektiv= and Objektivsätze, which was quite interesting.

Then off, rather reluctantly, looking round town first, to Hotel Scheffler, and met Tex with his Courteny [sic] outside. She is a wizened up looking thing. They and Guy are off to Lübeck this weekend—oh to have some money!

After makan, off back home, and started considering life, and decided I had better write to Mum and Dad, and tell them what was going on about money, and so wrote out a great reckoning, in which I discovered I had spent £40. Meanwhile a letter from Otto returning my cheque, as he did not want it, and suggested I could find something better to spend the money on. Dead right there, but I still feel guilty about not accepting the money.

Then, feeling a bit tired, lying on my bed, reading „Private Eye“, and „FAZ“, which is a bit of a jump, which at first really hit me. It has been quite some time since I read much English, and after it, German seems almost like a foreign language again. I wonder when I shall start writing this diary in German.

Eventually off to sleep, or rather a semi-conscious dream state which, I suppose, is not the unlike the effect of some drugs (which I shall not mention for fear of putting my foot in it [in other words, I was only guessing]). Woke up about 2½ hours later, and it slowly dawned on me (why am I so tired?) that I would miss makan if I didn't get a move on, and so off with „Lieber John“, which David wanted to borrow, and to Scheffler, ate, and, feeling a little depressed, back home and decided to write a letter to Corinna, although hers (as she admitted) was little more than a hasty note. Wrote 3 pages to her (hope my Deutſch has improved!), and then, after messing around with my cameras (front of 50/1,4 worked loose. Damn), in to watch a TV programme from Berlin, and then messing around with my old pen, which I nearly got back to life again.

Sunday, 3 September 1967	Lüneburg
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In the semi-delerium [sic] of this morning I did, in fact, think several times of getting up, but did not really make it until about 1000 hrs, which is still comparatively early for a Sunday, though I wish, just for a while, that I could get up again at 0700 hrs every day, though it would just be an hour wasted in the weekdays, and what the hell—I don't want to get up any earlier on Sundays.

Breakfast fairly soon, and out for that—I am of late getting quite used to German food and eating habits, which is just as well, considering the way things look like continuing.

Then into my room to do some work, of which I had plenty waiting, and came to the conclusion that I would be here the whole day. Accordingly finished off the (surprisingly long) Aufgabe that Frl. Weber gave us yesterday, and then thought it about time I finished off my exposure notes for my Edixa, and got down to that.

Interrupted for lunch, which was Gulasch, which as far as I can go by direct comparisons, is German for stew. Not too bad—but why do they like bits of blubber floating around in their food?

After lunch, on with my exposure notes, which I eventually (round 1430) finished. Now only my SV, Leica, and odds and grots to go. Then sat down and anticipated things over a pipe of Kauson [?], and thought about photoing the spider I caught this morning—this place is wonderful for insect photos. As Marvin put it, I have several hundred roommates. Spider looked rather interesting, so blew a bit of HP4 on it, and then messing around generally. My 50 mm lens has developed a very loose front which is worrying, especially for reversed macro work, which is what I want to do.

Then further work—never run out off the stuff—and so finished off my Referat, of which I wrote 8 pages, and then again messing around, and started rewriting the thing in a slightly more legible script, and soon ran out of ink—I must have used a hell of a lot since I got this pen (which I am now getting used to). Filled the thing again, spilling ink all over the table in the process, and after writing a little more, in for makan, and then out again, and finished the Referat before too long.

Floating around watching Ulla and Herrn Fussan prepare homework—the latter for Henry. Poor bloke is semi-illiterate: I can write the language better than he.

Into my room, and sat down reading for a while until a mosquito came along, so caught it and stuck it on the object end of an inverted Tessar, and discovered it had coloured eyes... 14 frames of EMS later came to life again (why is Macro work so tiring?) and investigated my 50/1,4 Takumar, which had parted company with the front filter thing, and so found out what made the thing tick. Now all I need is a watchmaker's screwdriver and will be able to put the thing back together again.

Monday, 4 September 1967	Lüneburg
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And so on to another week. This course draws to a close, and I am rather glad—it has so far been a pretty austere and boring life, and I see no reason for any change in the following 19 days—it should all be a lot more fun when I get to Hamburg (I have been saying that now for about the last 9 months). My only worry at present is suitable accommodation in Hamburg, which, however, I don not expect will be too bad.

Off in a bit of a stupour this morning, explaining why I left my camera and my keys behind, and on the way to school ate the breakfast which Mutti [Mrs. Fussan] had kindly made for me. If I get this friendly a Hausfrau in Hamburg, I will not worry too much—though I would have to associate a little less with them were they as illiterate.

At school, Herr Doktor Turmann teaching us in the morning—I have come to the conclusion that I don't like that bloke too much. He doesn't seem to have any sense of humour, and that is dangerous. Spent first period reading the definitions of 5 words, and making sure that some of us knew some of them in some contexts. While we were at it, got some money for our trip to Hamburg. Then Pause—letter from the bloke about the bike—sold a long time back.

On with Dr. Turmann, and reading Artikel 5 of the Grundgesetz, which took a lot of explanation, though I don't know if it was worth it.

Then to makan, first getting some money and cashing a cheque. The number of people looking at me today (shorts and bare feet)! Off after makan to look for some jewellers screwdrivers, but no go, and ended up with a minute plastic handled screwdriver for 30 Pf, which, when I took it home, did the trick, and I fixed up both my 135 and my 50 (which fell apart remarkably quickly. What is wrong with that Umkehrring?). Then gathered my wits, a few letters, and my Edixa, and off back to town, and posted the letters. Boy—what a hell of a price to pay: 3:70 for 3 letters!). After an ice cream, back to the school to do the Aufgaben that Dr. Turmann had set us, and then messing around next door having a pretty average discussion, until Aboud called me in to show me a drawing of Sylvie and me, which I photographed for the benefit of all.

Then lit up a pipe, and before too long were joined by Frl. Weber—I do like her—for a Diktat, and that I found comparatively easy for a change. Said something about it being a mittelschweres Prüfungsdiktat, so I am not unduly worried about that.

After the Pause (for what it was worth), on with subjective and objective sentences were. [sic] Amusing analogy with the V/F [viewfinder] system of an SLR (about which I want to write my Prüfungsreferat).

After makan—7 helpings of chips, and I have persuaded Frau Becker I have a tapeworm—off back home, started reading „Die Verwandlung“ again, this time understanding it far better, though it knocked me ff to sleep until about 2000 hrs, when Frau Füssan brought in my breakfast, and so up and developed a couple of KB 14s for Peter, and then thinking about my Referat for the Prüfung.

Tuesday, 5 September 1967	Lüneburg
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Woke again today late, and as a result the usual hurry to get out of the place. Why are my feet still so tender? I must have walked 40 km barefoot by now, and one would have thought that that would be sufficient to toughen them up somewhat. Oh, what the hell—it will doubtless come with time.

Weather was nice this morning—one of those clear autumn days (even if the Krauts do reckon it is still summer—until the 23rd of this month, I gather. They have it all wrapped in this hemisphere).

At school, Frl. Weber again—good. I rather hope we don't see too much of Dr. Turmann in the remaining 10 days of Unterricht. What happens after this? I hope I get some money soon, and will then be able to breathe more freely—though I hope sincerely that I don't spend so much. Still, I have a lot of things now which represent an initial expense (not that there won't be a lot more initial expenses).

Nothing much in the way of work, anyway: before Pause still more Subjektive, and after, after finishing off the subject, heard something about Afghanistan from Herrn Hakim, including why they lay claim to Pushtunistan—which, apparently, extends as far as Kashmir.

Then off for makan, where Tex had eventually sobered up after last night's booze-up, and quickly thereafter off to see his Courterenney, and I talking with Guy. Off to Schneiders, and there bought a 5 m flash extension cord, not too cheap at 5.70, but necessary.

Off then home, determined to do some more micro/macro photography, and so got an old cardboard box, and out into the back yard and caught a wasp, which was a little active, and tried to smoke the thing out, to little avail. Then hurt it somehow, and it stung the blotting paper, leaving half its entrails behind in the process—interesting photo. No coloured eyes, though, unfortunately.

Then messing around trying to work out what was wrong with the old formula for teleconverters, and how one should best consider the things, but did not get very far.

Off into town, and to the Institut, where Frl. Weber corrected my Referat, after a bit of waiting, and then said something about there being a Goethe-Institut in K.L. Did not deny it, and she went on to say that didn't there use to be a bloke called Kreplin there?... It's a small world! Seems that she was a Dolmetscherin before—explains why she speaks English and Spanish—and that Dieter took her under his wing and got her into this job—fun for her. Can't get over it, though I don't suppose it is too much of a coincidence.

More photos of the wasp after makan, before he finally gave up the ghost, and then preparing for my Referat (which I am to give tomorrow—God help me), and then out to watch another UNCLE film on TV, again one I have already seen.

After that, working out what photo equipment I need in the near/not to near future. How about Zeiß 20/4 and 80/2,8?

Wednesday, 6 September 1967	Lüneburg
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Up on time this morning, though I am of late getting very tired in a sort of half-hearted attempt to prove that I can live on less than 8 hours a day sleep—it is getting now that I am pretty well convinced I can't. In fact, I think it has a hell of a lot to do with how much interest one has in one's daily life.

Off to school, where I arrived relatively early, and floated around for a while doing nothing until Unterricht began, and I was told that I was welcome to hold my Referat this afternoon. Fun.

Work in the morning was still more subjectives—it is occurring to me that are we not moving a bit slowly? Then a bit of negation, which subsequently proved quite necessary for the test, etc—or so we were told.

After the Pause—I wonder when next I shall hear from Paul Hallett, whom I asked for a reply some 2½ weeks ago.

Back into class, and on, ever on—one of the reasons we learn so much here is possibly because we run though everything a dozen times. Nasty comment from Frl. Weber in my book about being lazy—which struck home after I had forgotten to do my Aufgabe last night.

Finished off a couple of Übungen, by which time it was time for lunch, and so off, and talking to David and Peter, who apparently are now pretty organised as to how to spend their spare time—in some ways I feel envious that I did not get in with David, but it would cost too much and I would have got no work done—one just doesn't have the time any more—anyway, of late I am not so worried by the nothing to do (and in any case, there is more to do).

After makan, having got some information on the Exakta Vielzweck and Macro/Microsystem—where to get a Jena M? [the M has a vertical bar through it. I'm not sure if this means anything]—which I like, and note that a lot of it is applicable to Pentax, wrote a few facts on the board about Malaysia, and then messing around taking photos of Sylvie, and off to buy an ice cream—got to have something—and then back again to the school and tried to work out some formulae connected with diaphragms and exposure, before it became 1500 hrs, and we became our test.

That was easier than I thought it would be, and I had the whole thing finished in half an hour—why am I such a fast worker? (OK, pun, but it does apply both ways).

Out to wonder why the depth of field for a tele is longer than that of a short lens, which my calculations had pointed to, but couldn't work it out. Then back in with Dr. Turmann, whom I dislike now quite definitely, and after an Übung, came out with my Referat, and made, I expect, quite a balls up of that—was conscious of a lot of “ers”.

Then back home, and did a few more calculations, had a bath, and came to the final conclusion that a tele did have more depth of field than shorter lenses.

That was an incorrect conclusion. I wonder how I came to it. I should have known better—the depth of field scales on lenses show that.

Thursday, 7 September 1967	Lüneburg → Hamburg → Lüneburg
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Up of my own accord at 0615 this morning for the long day ahead of us, and off with my Uni entrance file to school for breakfast, and onto the bus alone—I am not getting around with other blokes here too much of late. Talking to a South American bloke, whose sister (quite nice) is around this area. He has a Praktica Nova B/Domiplan, which he quite likes—but I wonder how much he knows about it all.

Arrived at Hamburg Rathaus at 0845, and a ¼ hour wait until our guide came on board, and then off round the town looking at all the sights, most of which I had not seen before, and some of which were quite interesting. Also taken along to where I had to go about my rooms, along in Rothenbaumchaussee, and ended up in the docks, saw the Elbtunnel (56 years old today), and then on a Hafenrundfahrt, which I though an utter waste of time, and lost little of this precious commodity in saying so. Peter says he earned DM 700 a week cleaning dead bodies at an undertakers—that sounds like good money. I wonder what sort of camera I could get for that—ought to get me pretty well sorted out in the Praktisix line.

Eventually arrived back in Rothenbaumchaussee, and over to the Curiohaus to have a word with the Akademische Auslandsstelle there about accommodation, and they sent me out to a place called Stellingen, and so off there, and after travelling about ½ hour, got there, and found the place already taken, so back towards the Hauptbahnhof and had lunch at one of the self-service places nearby, and then rang up the AAS, and asked where next to try, so was given another address, this time with Phone No, and rang up and arranged to come at 1700 hrs, and then out and down Mönckebergstraße and to Wiesenhavern, where I had a look at the SLR's they had to offer, including an old Edixa-mat reflex D for only DM 229 with (rather grotty) prism. Also taking note of Praktisix prices—they are rather more than competitive. I shall have to get one of them (though I wish I could earn enough for a Hasselblad or even Bronica).

Then round town, bought a Gevapan 30 at 2.20 mainly to see what it was like (have never used one before), and then off round town, and eventually bought a map, and after taking a few photos down to see this bloke about the room, but he said it was besetzt. I think he was lying—he did not previously look like he was going to say that. Oh well, too bad. Try again on Tuesday, I expect.

Then back to the bus, taking a few photos on the way: weather very good today, and the Binnenalster was excellent. Had a drink, onto the bus, and off back to Lüneburg, where awaited me a letter from María. Had a Schaschlick (as all I could afford), and then back to write 9 pages of DIN A4 to María, which should satisfy her for a while—I would really rather like to see her again, and it looks as if she might come over here, too.

Comparing 6×6 prices—Hassel about 3× as much as Praktisix.

Friday, 8 September 1967	Lüneburg
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Thank God this course is coming to an end! I am at the moment getting thoroughly fed up with the thing, and have come to the conclusion (having had my doubts about it all along), that it has not done me all that much good—certainly not DM 1250 worth (or pro rata). All in all, one could call it a waste of money—if I had gone to Hamburg and religiously washed corpses all this time, I could have DM 4200 behind me—enough to do me well for a Bronica, or excellently for a Praktisix (Pentacon 6)?

Off as usual to school—my feet are complaining a lot less of late—and this breakfast that Frau Füssan seems quite willing to continue preparing for me helps, too.

At school, Dr. Turmann. That bloke has now progressed to the stage of giving me the shits, and spent all the first period going over double-conjunctions—a waste of time, as far as I (and most of the class) were concerned, as we did not do them all that long ago.

No mail in the Pause—I hope I get some more money from Dad before I leave this place, otherwise I am going to be in a quandary. Then on with double conjunctions, actually learnt a couple more, and then we were set some more Referats—what a hell of a waste of time—and off for makan. After makan to the bank, got some money, and then bought a „Hobby“—new D type out with headlights behind glass and steerable lights—just what I have been thinking about for a long time! I am not convinced that I like the look of the thing, though I expect it will not take long. Off back to the Institut, where I had a chat with Herrn Hakim about this, and also about the stagnation we are getting into here. He is in a similar position to me—he wants to go to Kiel to study medicine, and has similar complaints that we are studying the language too much per se. Went and posted my letter to María, and then back and did my Aufgabe, and then, after having a chat with David for a while, off for a Bratwurst—I think I will have to start paying more for a second course at Frau Beckers—Kartoffelsalat just isn't nourishing enough.

Then with Fräulein Weber, and she is following in Herrn Doktor Turmann's footsteps, and in a Nacherzählung in which I did hardly any worse than usual, spent the whole period going over other people's Fehler, which may at time have been useful to others, but very little of which was useful to me.

I am going to have Caroll Schnackenberg sometime—she could be quite nice—though she is 2 years older than me, which worries me more than I should let it.

Got our Nacherzählungen back after that, and spent more time on it all before going on and learning some verbs. I am wondering whether it is worth continuing to come to Unterricht.

In the evening, did very little—read a bit, corrected my Nacherzählung, watched TV. I am going camera crazy again, and I wisch [sic] that the Praktisix had the prestige of a Hasselblad—or the H. the versatility of the P6.

Saturday, 9 September 1967	Lüneburg
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Feeling utterly exhausted today, and as a result, combined with my unpleasant experiences of yesterday, decided to miss at least a bit of school and sleep in a while. This I did, dreaming of Jenni (as I do at odd intervals—don't know why, but what the hell).

Up at about 0925 hrs, and out a little more quickly than usual (probably because I was better ausgeschlafen), and off to school, feeling more or less at peace with the world, and thinking of what I would do when I was finally out of this dump.

Got to school, as intended, round about 1000 hrs, which meant that I was just in time for a bottle of milk to wash down my breakfast, and then into the class, where we had just got our tests back, and I note that I got a 2-3, which I gather from all sources was not too bad.

After that, on with a mini-Wortfeld—glauben, denken, nachdenken, überlegen. I really think a whole period (or the best part by far) on that is too much.

More Aufgabe—she certainly makes up for lousy Unterricht by piling on the Aufgabe—and then off, bought some baccy, and to Schefflers to wait for lunch.

After eventually getting what there was in the way of lunch going, off back home, and wondering what to do. Fortunately I had taken the precaution of buying a Reader's Digest, and so set myself to the task of reading this, and before all to long got myself engrossed in a ghost story which is supposed to be true—in any case, all the details were given: On the 19.I.1967 at 0315 GMT, etc. I shall have to go there myself and see if it is true. I would love to go there and get a photo of the thing—even if, as the account goes, I would need Isopan Rekord at 20000 ASA f/1,4 1 [second?] sort of thing.

I wonder what I was talking about.

Then started a letter to Dad about the plastic house I was reading about in „Hobby“, and translated the whole article for him. I hope that, after all that trouble, the thing will interest him.

Then more reading, floating around my room, and after a while off into the lounge to see what could be had, and found a photo catalogue—this is the 4th I have seen since I have been here, though I only know of 2 English ones. Saw some SLR's going there, including 3 I didn't know of, but also including a couple of Zeniths with 58/2 Helios—which Jenny ought to have, so, despite the split, wrote to her and told her the pros and cons—and not a word else, apart for a request for my watch.

Then off into town, posted my letter to Jenni, and to Schefflers, where we had makan in the main room for a change, and it was imitation goulash—i.e. ugh.

Home, and doing little. Thought about some macro photos, but didn't really get round to doing anything, as was also the case with work, etc.

Sunday, 10 September 1967	Lüneburg
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Vati and Kalli back at 0140 hrs this morning from an all night binge in honour of the birthday of 9 friends yesterday, the 9.X—and both of them pissed as newts. Stayed awake for an hour, while the rest of the family and Kalli had a scene in the kitchen—I expect Vati had flaked out by then.

Off to sleep eventually, and woke up at 1100 hrs, having slept pretty soundly until then. How do I manage it? OK, day of rest and all that crap, but this is ridiculous. Still, where will I be in 2 weeks time? Hamburg, London, Sandown, Horrabridge, or where? Ah, the Wanderlust has really hit me again. I shall have to do a few months work in the morgue, buy myself an old D type, and spend all my weekends burning around the Continent. I wonder how easy it is to get such work and if (as I very strongly suspect) Peter was just having me on about the wages.

Up more or less of my own accord—either they hadn't had any breakfast, or at any rate hadn't thought of (or dared to) waking me up. Did a bit of work—in fact, before doing anything else, I got all my Aufgabe wound up—and then sat around, reading, etc, until Erika made her appearance and asked me in for lunch. Why so much fat on their food? I don't know—it must be cheaper that way. They and [?] admit themselves that they don't like it much.

After lunch, back to my room, and then out again and watched TV—„Bumerang“. This week about a kid who ran away from home—floating round Melbourne. What nostalgic memories! I had completely forgotten the old two-piece telephone boxes in Melbourne—and to sit here and watch that kid running up and down Swanston St, and other people floating outside Exhibition House [sic] less than a mile from home.

Then outside, taking photos of bees floating around the flowers, and then brought one in in the hope of catching him landing on a flower, but no go—crippled the thing by accident.

Then finished off my letter to Dad, and while I was at it, explained to him the different methods of colour TV (à propos of the beginning of colour TV here), and as a result finished a letter of 10 pages + 3 pages of Hobby—I wonder how much that will cost me.

From recollection, the documentation about colour TV at the time still referred to then-obsolete methods such as rotating disks.

Then more bee photography, and got the idea of photoing the flowers, and they in themselves are quite interesting, as well as being much more stationary.

Then reading a bit until makan, and amused everybody by catching a mosquito (in one hand) and saying that it had pretty eyes—Frau Füssan didn't know they had eyes!—and then sticking a 28 mm STak in front of it and proving it.

Very bored in the evening, and eventually out for a long walk round the neighbourhood, which must be quite nice by day. Why do I hate Sundays?

Monday, 11 September 1967	Lüneburg
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Overslept again this morning, though somehow managed to do a remarkable job of making up for it, and as a result arrived only a couple of seconds after Dr. Turmann went into the class—though the thought of what might be inside my breakfast had prevented me from eating it.

Oh my God, my God, why do we have to do what we do for Unterricht? How much better it would be were they only to give us 50 or 100 words each night to remember and test us on them the next morning. Then I would not be so worried—and if Skiv could make use do it, why not here, where it is supposed to be an intensive course?

Jnstead [sic] of something like that, all we did was carry on with the uses of “es”, and then listen why Dr. Turmann pulled bits of the weaker bretheren's work to pieces. This might have been OK at KCT, but here I consider it rather bad taste.

Letters from Dr. Glade (with photo and request for others) and from Corinna in the Pause. Then on with the stuff for Aufgabe, after which discussing yet more words. They are giving us a too thorough knowledge of too small a slice of the language.

Then off bei Frau Becker, where we had boiled phallus again. I don't know how the hell they manage to get their Bratwürste so wrinkled here.

Off then and posted the letter that I wrote yesterday to Dad, and then got some money out of the bank for the binge in Hamburg tomorrow, and then looking around, thinking of buying a Citroën again—only this time something more like a DS21 Pallas 1964 or something—though these are hardly cheap. Still.... a bit of corpse washing, and what the hell. Then back to the Institut, and talking to a friend of Hern Abouds, who is at Göttingen, and he was telling me a bit more about how things go at German Universities. Seems OK from what I can see. Then off and got some food, including pastries, which I have not had for a long time, and then back again to eat it, and after talking to Peter, who has apparently just got permission from his parents to become a professional photographer and wanted my opinion on what 6×6 camera to get, so I recommended a Praktisix, which seemed to appeal to him.

The in for our only period of the day with Fräulein Weber—more stuff with “es”. This is slowly, but surely, boring me stiff. Thank God there is only a week of Unterricht left.

Then Pause, after which with Dr Turmann again, and first went though a verbal Übung, and heard Sylvie's (not too fantastic) Referat on Tristan and Isolde, and discovered later that she knew nothing about the subject, had never heard the Oper or read anything about it, and that the Referat had been written by a friend in the other Mittelstufe.

After makan, off to see the flick „Die Wilden Engel“ (Hells Angels) at the Union, which was rather a disturbing film. I had rather expected the Hell's Angels to be a little more than just plain thugs, but that seems not to be the case.

Tuesday, 12 September 1967	Lüneburg → Hamburg → Lüneburg
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Up a little earlier this morning, just to be on the safe side, though trains to Hamburg run very often, and left the house at about 0805 with everything I was likely to need. Then to the station, and got the 0826 to Hamburg, and sat down opposite a quite passable bird, whom I ended up having a staring match with. This went on for quite a while, so when we got off at Hamburg, I helped her on with her coat, and out with her, and left her in the hall without saying a word to her the whole time, and then off to find about the boats to England. So much for Hamburg—Southampton: Bremerhaven—Harwich is about my only hope.

Back again, and had breakfast with this tart, and we demonstrated quite admirably that there are other communication methods apart from words. Accompanied her to where she was going, which happened to be the Berlitz language school, about which I had heard from Fräulein Weber.

This encounter profoundly impressed me. For the only time in the 7¾ years I kept this diary, I wrote a separate page about the subject.

Then off, in a mixed state of mind, in the direction of the Uni, and more especially the Akademische Auslandsstelle, and got a couple of addresses, and off to the first, in Winterhuder Weg, and there discovered quite an admirable state of affairs, with a very nice room, deaf landlady, and a Syrian of Russo-tartaric descent called Matin Tatari [in another room], and all seemed very good, so decided to take the room, although it cost DM 140 a month—it is still probably worth it, if not more.

His full name is Abdul Matin Tatari. I lost track of him a couple of years later, but he came into the limelight in the investigations of the background of the terrorist attacks of 11 September 2001 (which were almost exactly 34 years to the day later). No charges were laid, but I have no idea one way or another about whether he was involved. He was certainly a little rabid about the Arab cause. I wrote more on this topic 54 years later.

Matin invited me in for coffee and told me all about the place, and predicted that the old bag would probably come and ask for more money for something which is supposed to be free, whereupon she did just that: came in and asked for money for electricity, with which request Matin amply disposed of by accepting it as long as we could cook for free. Sounds OK to me, anyway. Then tried to ring up GI [Goethe-Institut] while Matin brewed some tea in his Samovar, and carried on talking. He has a lot of organic [chemistry] equipment here—I can see us distilling our own booze when I get my gas cylinder arrangement here (though Matin is a muslim, and doesn't indulge too often).

Then off by foot in the direction of the Uni, and Matin got himself some money, then some meat and rice, and to the student's home to cook some lunch, and I off to the Uni post office and had a lot of fun trying to ring up Lüneburg, but finally (after deciding the first telephone was out of order) got through.

Then back, and, after a while, had something to eat. Matin is not too bad a cook (but then, he is a chemist). Had to leave pretty soon after this, and off to Berlitz to have a look for this tart, but, not surprisingly, she was not there, and so off with a copy of „Photography“, which was the only photographic magazine I could find—why are there so few German photographic magazines?—to Lüneburg, and, at 1845, to Frau Beckers for makan. Then straight home, and started madly writing letters—to Bev, Mrs. Baudouy (an account of what I still have there), and then floating around reading „photography“. New Richo [Ricoh?] is the camera from Revue I have been wondering about—another Pentax thread.

Wednesday, 13 September 1967	Lüneburg
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Boy—did I ever sleep well last night! Went to bed considerably earlier than usual, but nevertheless did not wake up until about 0835, by which time I did not consider it worthwhile to go into first period, and so slept on until about 0915, and only then up, and go myself a pretty average quick move-on, and then off to school. I notice Frau Füssan has given up making me breakfast—not that I worried much, but I wonder why.

Stopped at the Bahnhof and checked on the E2328 (or something like that—it reminds me surprisingly of some other number—yes, Dad's AAM membership number) from Lüneburg, and discovered that, although the train originates from Dannenberg Ost at 0700, it comes into Lüneburg West at 0812, and leaves Lüneburg Ost at 0826—so she would have to change anyway. I am going to have to meet there again. Oh, why didn't I act more sensibly yesterday—though I suppose it would have spoilt it.

Then, after a Bratwurst, to school, and a rather disturbing Nachricht at the end of my sentences. Something about not taking the Prüfung, though. But when she came in, she asked for DM 10, my signature on the list, and said I could take the Prüfung after all. What the hell—even if I fail, it doesn't make any odds. But for myself, and even more especially Mum and Dad, I am going to have to pass—will have to catch up on what vokab we have learnt.

This puzzles me. Firstly, the text is garbled, and secondly everything I have written so far, and also what I recall, was that I was doing well. Why should I have been excluded from the final test? Attendance? I thought the journey to Hamburg had been agreed upon.

Then to makan, after which off to the bank—had not intended to go again so soon—in fact, I have made a resolution only to spend money on essentials from now on—but things like the Prüfung and the 20 DM I owed Guy were required. Then posted some letters to Mum, Dad, Bev, and Mrs. Baudouy and off back to school, and started copying verbs in the Wortfeld gehen from Caroll Schnackenberg's book, which was none too short a job. Then rang up the Akademische Auslandsstelle in in Hamburg (made it with 20 pf!), and then a chat with Herrn Hakim, and (later), David. He is peed off with German girls, but was rather interested about the girl I met yesterday—was apparently under the impression there was some telepathic contact going on, though I don't think so.

Then off to classes, and, just to liven things up somwhat, had a Diktat about Kiel, and then heard a couple of the short Referate on the subjects of Berlin and the Ruhrgebiet—the latter approaching long Referat length.

Next period was again divided—poor Sylvie has had Herrn Turmann every time—and first of all an Übung with adjectives, in which I finished miserably—didn't get a single adjective right. Then Referat from Herrn Ibrahim about oil, during which I was half asleep, and not very interested anyway—rather a bleak picture.

Makan, and then off home, having got a lift from the Norwegian bloke in his new Renault 4. Interesting.

Little in the evening—I am feeling inactive again.

Thursday, 14 September 1967	Lüneburg
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Up in fact a little early today, and, happy, off to school, and was 5 minutes under way before it occurred to me that it might be an advantage if I brought some books, and that effectively lowered my lead. Then to school late, though the Lehrer were even later, so it didn't matter.

Oh, my God, my God. This is killing me. I hope to God that life will be a little more fun in Hamburg—it is going to have to be, if it means that I have to spend every night on the Reeperbahn. Today we got back our Diktats, in which I had only made 4 mistakes, and, had I had my wits about me, had made only 2. Oh, what the hell—what does it matter anyway?

On through the morning, which dragged, learning the intricacies of some word which I have already forgotten, and then to the Pause, where I was fully expecting a cheque from Dad, but alas!—no mail, not even from the tart I met on the train the other day. I am going to have to meet her again—Fräulein Weber said that, if required (which is, of course), I can be through the Prüfung by Tuesday afternoon, so I shall probably go up to Hamburg on Wednesday morning, naturally on the same train. I wonder if all is as well as I imagined—though I don't suppose I really expected anything to come of it.

Then to makan, which was some macaroni soup, but with sufficient Maggi, didn't take unlike (rather grotty) mee soup, and so had 3 helpings, though this went straight through me—why am I shitting myself so much of late? Also removed half my right little toe on a kerb, so, but the time I got back [home], to find Whisky (the Dog) prostrating herself in front of me, I was in none too happy a state of mind—until I found a letter from Dad with a cheque to the tune of 645 DM, and note explaining what it was. He did not even comment on the amount I have spent in the last month—good old Dad! Working out after how I could best deal with the discrepancy in my account, and decided that a bit of photo equipment would be in order, such as a Taschenstativ [pocket tripod] and an Edixa Klarg (clear glass screen). Then off into town, thinking that perhaps an Olympus Pen F would not be at all such a bad camera to have, and to Schneiders, to get the photos printed, and then had a look at one of their Taschenstative for 22:50, of course they had no Klarg, and off to cash my cheque, and then bought the Stativ (after seeing what there was elsewhere), and subsequently a tobacco pouch, a magazine (photo—expensive here. Will have to get the AP sent out. I wonder how long it would take. To the Institut, and reading the Foto-magazin, which is not bad. Then back into town, bought some shampoo, and off, after wandering down town, bei Becker, then off for a farewell drink with Tex, and he gave me pair of thongs as a going away present. Back home, Fussans had been having an argument as to the result of 42 ÷ 12. Christ are they thick—especially the old man.

Friday, 15 September 1967	Lüneburg → Hamburg → Lüneburg
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Up on time this morning, after first waking at 0725, thinking it was 0825, and getting dressed. What the hell. Missed seeing Tex off, though that doesn't worry me particularly, and then to school, where I arrived comparatively early, and in for the second last day of Unterricht, and then on to all sorts of little odds and ends that I have left untied here. Oh, what the hell—what does it matter, anyway? I am not here to pass an exam (or at any rate, that is not my primary intention, though it would be nice), and I might as well leave after the end of the Unterricht, and then go back to England.

In the Pause, got a couple of birthday cards from both Grandmothers—nice end in Grandma Lehey's „Money follows“. Um so besser—I would hardly say I couldn't do with some right now.

Then a Test, which seems rather superfluous, seeing as though we are taking the final Prüfung on Tuesday Monday, and I more or less skimmed through it—hope I didn't make too many mistakes, though I fear that my Wortschatz is not what it should be.

Then to makan, and some crazy eggs and mini-spuds, and then off to the school again, lit a pipe, and contemplated the future, wondering what sort of a reception would await me in England. Off to the Post to find out how much a call to England would cost—DM 2·20 a minute, rather steep, and went back to üblerlegen it, and eventually decided to call up Paul, and so did so, and discovered that parents' opinion of me is low, and all of that, but that I might be able to get accommodation for a few days if I behaved myself. Not very pleasing Nachricht generally—I seem to have made a balls-up of my impression on the family last time I was there. What the hell. Burnt round town wondering what to do, at 1430 to the travel agency at the Rathaus, and found what boats were running, and at 1500 to the bank, where I discovered that my cheque had not even been looked at yet, and so had a rather heated discussion with them, in which they opined that the only way to get the thing cashed today would be to go up to Hamburg, which I considered, then burnt down to the station, bought a ticket, and discovered that I had a 50 minute wait, so off home, got changed, and my passport and Edixa, and back, checking where the Hongkong and Shanghai Bank was—in Mönckebergstraße—good.

HSBC is one of the world's leading banks now, of course, but in those days hardly anybody in Europe had heard of it. All my money came through that branch, though later it was in the form of transfers.

Then got the train to Hamburg, and got to the Hbf at 1654, and to the bank at 1702—and they closed at 1700! Explained the situation, and they agreed to make an exception, and got my 645 less 2 Gebühr DM, and off to look at cameras in Wiesernhaven [sic], and came to the conclusion that a Pen F wasn't worth it, and so bought a second hand Edixa-mat reflex D (probably the most versatile German SLR apart from the Exakta) for 200 DM,

This camera must have come with only a waist-level viewfinder, and I must have intended to use the pentaprism from the Edixmat Flex S that I had bought on 14 April 1966.

and then, after eating, back and celebrating Ulla's birthday in a manner far less feierlich than I had been led to believe. What the hell—mana kita sekarang?

Saturday, 16 September 1967	Lüneburg
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Up a little earlier than usual today—for some reason I couldn't sleep. I always seem to get at any rate a little like this every time I start travelling—the old Wanderlust like malaria in my veins, I suppose. Oh, what the hell—how good it is to be about to be on the move again!

Off early to school, without forgetting anything for once. After I leave this place I will officially be able to take up the title of „Student“, which I have in any case been using for about 2 years now—in my passport, at any rate.

Got to school, and discovered that everybody thought I was by now in London—what the hell. Reminds me of a similar incident rather over 6 years ago at the SJI (or should I now say SJJ or SJJ [second with a longer first J, imitating old German writing] ?). Little of importance in class—we got yesterday''s test back—quick work. Not too bad. Got the Textgerüst absolutely perfect. Good old Gaſton. In the break, off to get the photos, and at the same time got an adaptor [sic] for the continental 3pod thread of my new Edixa.

Back, and straight on, having a run over for the Prüfung—lot of use that is for me, but what the hell.

I don't say here, and I can't remember, but it appears that some time in the previous couple of days I decided against doing the final test after all. I wonder if I got my money back.

After that period, a rather hectic dishing out of photos which ended up (surprisingly, as they took over) with me getting more money than photos taken. Odd. Letter from Paul, which he mentioned on the phone yesterday, but none from Jenny—maybe she has not written. I find it vaguely insulting that a girl who recently thought the world of me (or made out she did) can't even be bothered to think of me now. Still—only my pride is hurt, and that doesn't count. Paul wants to come over here sometime.

Then bade all my friends farewell, and off to the house, and after a bit of thought, decided to get packing, and threw several things into my case. What a lot of periodicals I have accumulated since I have been here. I have decided I shall have to get a subscription to AP, as there seems to be no good equivalent German magazine.

After that, off walking round the area, particularly the wood further along the Deutſch-Evern Weg, with my Edixa, and then took quite a few photos—I rather like this camera, and it will be much better when I get the Auto diaphragm working, which should not take too long. Next on the list is a meter (Zodel? 33 DM from Quelle), and a clear screen.

Wrote a letter to Dad about directing money, and then off to post it, discovered I had left my wallet behind, and so to makan, and then off to bid David a fond farewell. Not even he noticed I had completely removed my sideboards. Found a bit about trains, ordered a taxi for tomorrow, and home for a TV show about Hamburg, ending up with a few Abschiedslieder. I am feeling homesick for Hamburg. Will be glad to get back.

Sunday, 17 September 1967	Lüneburg → Hamburg → Bremerhaven →
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Woke up with the dawn again today, and could not go back to sleep—it is odd how excited I can still get a the thought of travel, though I must have travelled 200 000 miles in my time, and so this hop would represent less than 0,25% of the total. Still, was already getting dressed by the time Herr Fussan came in (early) and asked me if I was awake, and then brought me in some bread and stuff for breakfast, and sat there keeping me morally company until the taxi arrived, also early.

At the station, bought some stamps, posted my letter to Dad, and then got my ticket, and was making my way through the subway to the 0804D [?] when my case fell off the handle. Sware and ran to put the rest on, and my 400 [mm telephoto lens in case?] followed suit. Managed the train, exhausted, nevertheless, and in Hamburg before 0900, and put my camera and grot in a left luggage locker, and off by taxi to see Matin, and gave him my case. He was still in bed, but pleased to see me, and so sat there talking for a while, while Frau Plehn came in and brought some rather grotty looking cake. Then arrived a friend, also chemistry student, beard, pipe smoker—seems to be a stereotype, though Matin has removed his beard as the result of a mishap, and will not grow it again until after his Kolloq next month.

Carried on with a pretty lively conversation (as usual including women, though also (from friend) an explanation that on strong heating nicotine decomposes, forming, inter alia, ammonia, which explains the smell of ammonia about a pipe), until about 1330, by which time Matin decided against wearing the arab national costume that he had just put on, and so all of us off dressed normally, observed an accident that just wouldn't have happened in Teheran (from where Matin's friend comes, though he was born in Mashhad), and then I off the tube at the Hbf and got my barang, checked on the time of the bus, and then had makan and over to the ZOB to wait, while I checked on the diaphragm operation of the Edixa - a couple of razor blades ought to do the trick if I can't think of anything better.

The camera had automatic diaphragm actuation, but it didn't match up with the positions on Pentax cameras, and I needed to find a way to make up for the difference.

Then on the bus, along with a good 8 other people, and off to Bremerhaven, while I did a bit of catching up on my sleep, though hardly under ideal conditions, and then woke up again, the weather having notably deteriorated from sun to fog and rain as we changed our Hansestädte, and then on the „Prins Hamlet“, which was luxuriously outfitted, and found myself a bar to mess around in for a while, and to eat the sandwiches which Frau Fussan had made for me, and out several times to change money, buy some tobacco (43 gm for 2·25, but should be a lot better than Clan) and so on—had to have a few Bockwürste despite the sandwiches. Eying a nice looking bird near me, who didn't seem to be interested, so eventually settled down on a row of seats outside the tax-free shop, and went off to sleep...

Monday, 18 September 1967	→ (England) Harwich → London → Sandown (Greenwood)
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... there, and slept quite soundly—there only seemed to be one other deck passenger, in contrast to the Viking, which will be running this route as from next Thursday.

Woke up round about every 3 hours, but finally got up at about 0900, and prepared myself for the coming day, wrote up my diary, and by the time I had got through that, we were coming into Harwich, and so got my barang together and waited to get off—I don't know why I bothered, because after getting off at Harwich and going through passport control (only allowed to stay 6 months—damn that!) and customs, I had a whole hour to wait before the train left for London. Took advantage of this and bought myself an AP, and sat on the train and waited for it to leave, reading about the latest offers of materials in London, and wondering how to spend my time there.

Eventually the train pulled out (on time, what is more, though there could be no earthly reason why not), and about a hour and a half later we arrived at London/Liverpool St Station, and so off by tube to Edgeware [sic] road, and tried to get some stuff at DPS, ending up with 50 ft HP4 and some negative album refills. Then had makan at Woolworths, and down Oxford St to Bond St and WH, looking for some Promicrol and also showed Herrn Higgins my Hanimex Auto tubes, which he borrowed for examination, and got my Promicrol (which I later discovered was replenisher—damn!), and then to Piccadilly underground and to Waterloo, getting a ticket to Sandown, and caught the 1550—England can be a beautiful country when the sun shines, and today I saw it completely differently from ever before. But I still could not live here. Over on the ferry to Ryde, taking photos of a beautiful Solent, and to Brading, walked to Greenwood, arriving at about 1850 rather earlier than I had expected.

What did I expect my relations with Jenny to be? I don't know, but now I am here, I find myself strangely attracted to her again—though it is pretty obvious that she is not (or she is putting on a pretty good show). This hurts my pride—Jenny is the fist girl to have done that, though possibly unwillingly. Got me to help her with chemistry, as of old—but no hand-holding or anything, and I felt dissatisfied. But what does she really think?

Out with Paul to the caravan, talking about Germany, religion, women, and finally photographic developers, with which he is of late experimenting, and tried to explain to them a bit of the D-log E curve, without too much success, and finally at 0320 he inside, and I gradually off to sleep.

Tuesday, 19 September 1967	Greenwood
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Despite last night's late night, not up too late this morning—man is a creature of habit: when I heard the car off taking Jenny to school, I woke up, and because evident a feeling of sadness because she had not come to say goodbye. Ah, Gaſton, it is all over now: thou art in a different world, your parabola will shortly break all contact and head off to infinity in a different direction. Forget her!

In to wake up Paul, which was considerably easier said than done, and so out again, and, amongst other things, loaded an HP4 into a cassette and subsequently into my SP, by which time Paul was on the scene, and so got a few eggs and scrambled them, and had these for breakfast—and even Paul admitted that they tasted good.

After that, problems of washing up, and took Prince for a walk, and then wondering how to spend the rest of the morning, which somehow managed to spend itself, while I did my best to fix up the diaphragm of my Edixa, and cutting out bits of aluminium and stuff to put on top of the plate, and was interrupted by lunch. Problem was really the plate striking the rear element. of the 50/1,4 STak, and eventually overcame that, and the end result is very good, even if it does look rather Heath-Robinson—I suppose one of these days it will be worth my while to cut something out which looks better, Araldite it on, and then paint it over with matt black paint. As it is, though, all works OK.

Then got hold of the car, and up to the barn to get my trunk, which was down there, and brought that down to the caravan—I suppose I am going to have to repack all this lot more economically, and pretty soon.

After that, sat in the caravan looking through all my old records, and considering with Paul the 16 month fued [sic] with Wallace Heaton, which has finally come to an end (or will in the immediate future) with WH's admission of defeat, and then thought about going for a walk, took Prince, and off down the round, screwed my camera into a tree, and then took some photos of ourselves thus.

After that, got a lift back to the house, and had tea pretty soon after. Jenny is odd—she is obviously capable of treating me as if the past had never happened, and as if we were just friends. Odd.

After tea, doing some macro/micro photography—definition was lousy. Will have to see what I can do to improve it.

Went on a pub crawl in the evening, but did not find much, though we went all over East Wight. Paul is suddenly thinking about finding a woman.

Wednesday, 20 September 1967	Greenwood	Images for 20 September 1967
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Up at about 0800 this morning, as of old, and in to attempt to rouse Paul, but had breakfast with Jenni before he got up—how all these little things hurt, doing them under such different circumstances. It is now pretty obvious that, at least now, nothing is going to come of Jenni—now, I wonder if it ever will again—not that it really worries me either way.

After Paul got up, took Prince down town—Paul did not want to come—and bought an AP, and looked for a barber shop, but could not find the one I went to this time last year—must have closed down. Feeling a little cheesed off with England in general, and thinking of how soon I could get back to Hamburg. Pretty certain I will go on Sunday now.

After reading the AP and leaving Paul to read it, collected up all my barang and started packing it, and this took quite a while, though I discovered that I could put the PCR and stuff in the trunk—though the real breakthrough came later, when I was talking to Paul, and I remembered the duffle bag, which I promptly half filled—I suppose it will be full to overflowing by the time I arrive in Hamburg.

Then in to lunch, when the mail arrived, and with it my Hanimex tubes from WH, and Paul promptly tried them on his SP and discovered that they were not as perfectly compatible as with mine.

Wallace Heaton was one of the biggest and most renowned photographic suppliers in London. It really looks as if they weren't able to find the extension tubes I had been looking for, and that the ones I lent them were genuine news for them. Imagine that happening in the 21st century.

Out later to the caravan, where we discovered all this, and also came to the conclusion that we had better spend the afternoon doing something more constructive than of late, so Paul got permission to use the car, on proviso that we picked up Ann, and so off to Stepney Down (I think), and blew plenty of Black & White there, though I think it would have done justice to a bit of CE. Still, no such luxury. Then to pick up Ann, and while we were there saw a Citroën Big 6, which I just had to examine, and discovered that the rear wheels were suspended on a live axle—one would have thought that independent suspension would be easier, especially since they managed it on the front wheels.

The rear axle wasn't “live” (driven) at all, of course. I was mixing up my terminology here. And the beam axle construction is not so bad a choice. Audi used it until relatively recently.

Then home, and picked up Jenni and Mrs. Hallett on the way—Jenni still talking about a new camera, so I offered to lend her my Edixa, which offer she took up as an offer of purchase—Flex S with Meritar, plain glass [focusing screen], W/L [waist-level viewfinder]—in the order of £16··0··0.

Piecing all this together, it seems that I wanted to sell her the old Edixa, but without the pentaprism, which I wanted to keep for the new Edixa that I had bought the previous week, and which must not have had its own prism. Meritar was the lens. £16 was about DM 192, so pretty close to the price I paid for the new Edixa-Mat Reflex D body.

Then a messing around in the evening—come all what may, Jen is no longer interested in me, so what the hell. After a while, decided to develop some films in Amitol-S [?], which I had to make up. The Gevapan 30 came out very well, but unfortunately not so the Pan F, which came out very thin, and with considerable blanks.

Thursday, 21 September 1967	Greenwood
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Overslept for the first time today, mainly owing to a few pleasant dreams, which concerned themselves with my purchase of an old Citroën DS19 and Lesley Cannings' offer to use of her body, which dream was interrupted by the all-too-real apparition of Paul saying something about getting up.

When I came in, Paul was looking rather baffledly at the egg poacher, but eventually appeared to get some sense out of it, so made us a couple of eggs, and then I decided to do Mrs. Hallett the favour of the washing up, which obviously pleased her, and then talking with Paul about what to do. Rang up British Railways about what to do, and so worked out some sort of itinerary. Later found Paul required to plant cabbages, but Mr. Hallett obviously preferred Peggy's company, so up with Prince onto the down, and there took a large number of landscape photos and also shots of Prince and another dog, all of which could turn out very well with any luck.

Then back down to the house again, and decided to ulitise the ability of the Edixa to make double exposures, and tried setting up some stuff in the lounge room, which we could not actually use until after lunch, but then tried several different shots and then left it until we could try some out of door night shots.

After that the same old problem—what to do after the washing up. Paul though that we ought again go somewhere high and take some photos, but once we had actually left, I found an article about the evolution of Citroën since about 1920—including Petite Rosalie, and early streamlined job which did 186400 miles at an average speed of 58 mph—that must be a hell of a test of endurance, even for Citroën. Amazing how similar the old big 6 (1922) looks to the later fwd mode which went out of production only in 1955. Off to Culver Cliff, where we took a few photos, and then burnt down to Shanklin, and after looking around the sea front, off to buy some food and pick up Ann, and then back home.

Then Paul off to sleep in the caravan, and I nearly followed suit, but just managed not to. Jenni back a bit later, so tried selling her the Edixa again, and Paul saying she ought to get the pentaprism (I don't mind—I could do with an intact one). Took the magnifier out and turned it round, which did wonders for the viewfinder image, and so Jeni agreed to buy it. Will try and get the one from Wiesenhavern for 29 DM. Then rang up the Baudouys, no vacancy, and Bev, who offered to come up to London with me to help me with the barang (of which I have a hell of a lot). Another late night conversation with Paul, and first at 0220 to bed.

Friday, 22 September 1967	Greenwood
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Jenny appeared at my window early this morning, wanting to know when I was leaving—why the hell?! I expect she wanted to say goodbye, though I can't imagine why. Still, told her that I would still be here when she returned. That girl is such a terrible paradox—her body attracts me so much, but her mind almost revolts me. Oh, what the hell—it is all a hell of a horrible mess, and it will all be over when finally I get the money for my Edixa (which she is now pretty definitely buying).

Up again late—Jenny's appearance incited me to go back to sleep, and again up when Paul came in, this time with the news that his mother wanted to cook, so would I please come in and have breakfast, so that she could clear the stuff away? Rather baffled both by simply saying that I would not have any, which to an Englishman is well-nigh impossible, and then into the lounge to talk with Paul about matters affecting him in the next couple of months—his Uni entrance examinations, which look a little stiff, and he is none too happy about them. Then out and had a bit of a mess about in the caravan, and I got chick [worried] about my 5prism, and decided to take the thing with me after all, and tried to ring up the Customs and Excise people, and when I finally did get on to them, they painted a pretty gloomy picture, so over lunch decided what the hell, and we might was well leave it [the pentaprism] here, and if I couldn't get the other one at Wiesenhavern (which, let's face it, is not very likely), I can get Paul and Jenni to send the thing over.

After lunch, in the same antipathetic state as before, and both nearly to sleep in the caravan. Back inside, Paul saw an advertisement for a [Vauxhall] Viva estate car, and I suggested that we went down to see the ID19F at Sandown Garages. Accordingly down with Prince—the thing certainly has been knocked around a bit, possibly due to bad shipping (it is a french model).

Back up again, and met Jenni on the way—I give up about this girl. A bit later, after tea, in one moment of utter revulsion, told her how I felt, and, I fear (strange as it may seem), hurt her. Oh, what the hell. Why did she keep flicking the lights on and off while I was having my bath? I wish I could understand that girl, but I few, that we are not on the same wavelength.

After that, putting Jenny's Leica together, while Paul trying to work out sales talk for it: „We had a lens cap for it, but it had Zorkiy written on it, so we changed it“ etc.

I kept calling this camera a Leica, but in fact it was a FED, a copy of a Leica III with a 50 mm f/2.0 (Leitz) Summar lens.

Off for a pub crawl, and got more or less involved with some ugly Spanish tart, who thought I was staying here, and tried to make a date tomorrow. Back late to be—oh to be in Deutschland.

Saturday, 23 September 1967	Greenwood → Tavistock → Exeter
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Up with the alarm at about 0550 this morning, and still dark—what conditions to start this marathon balls-up that I am now undertaking. In after a while, to find Mr. Hallett wandering around making tea, and making observations on the Viet Nam war, and so in to rouse Paul, who eventually got up, and off, forgetting the lunch which Mrs. Hallett had made for me, to Ryde, and took the car up to the pier head—beautiful sunrise manifested itself in the process.

Over on the boat, without too much sweat, and even at the other end, despite a bit of panic, made the connection to Portsmouth and Southsea with ease, and had plenty of time there awaiting the train to Salisbury, in which time I read a bit more of the history of the SLR, though out like a light once I got on the train. Another close connection at Salisbury, which again I made quite nicely—all this seems to be ending up much easier than I thought.

Had a rather early makan on the train to Exeter, which set me back an abominable amount of money, and then arrive at Exeter too late for the very close connection to Plymouth, but the next left pretty soon after, so there was no delay. Discovered it was going via Tavistock, and so decided to get out there, and in the meantime got talking to the bird opposite me, who was wearing a mini Brandenburger Tor and Berlin emblem on a chain around her neck, but unfortunately not very with it.

Got my luggage left at the station and then caught the next bus to Horrabridge—that hill up to Grimstone is not much fun. Bev complaining about hair, and what the hell, but still pleased to see me, and before long we got down to sorting out my barang—of which there is not all that much here, and I decided that I could probably do without by baß recorder, and also left a couple of other things behind, including my dud A clarinet. Mr. Andrew managed to more or less talk Bev out of coming to London with me—oh, what the hell, it's not that important anyway. Then she got hold of my Edixa and proceeded to finish the film in that, and then in to have tea, after which I was requested to load my barang in to the car pursuant to leaving for the station, which I did, and then up to have a chat with Bev, who has now taken up smoking—rather a shock—and then off to Tavy, and had a drink with Mr Andrew (had to pay more than my share!) as a farewell, and then, mainly asleep, to Exeter, and a 4 hour wait in which I went into the town and took more photos, while drunks wandered about all over the place, and because of my tripod was taken as a pro several times over—even by the police. I wonder what it is about a 3pod that makes it appear professional.

Then involved in a conversation with a bloke who was very proud of his Contax ...

Sunday, 24 September 1967	Exeter → London → Harwich →
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... and his watch, and ended up with him on the train, along with a couple of other blokes, and a rather nice-looking bird whom I had seen outside and whom I thought to be Swedish. She was sitting next to me, with nothing to lean against, so I offered her my shoulder—she accepted. Nice warm feeling of her leaning against me, and it was also nice to wake up and find her leaning against me, with her hand almost on my leg, so I let mine glide ever so slowly down onto hers—it must have taken 5 minutes—and ad the end got a sort of a grip back. By this time she was sitting up again, but at this point she snuggled up close into me and held my hand more firmly, and before long we were in each others' arms and kissing, much to the chagrin of the watchmaker. She said very little—I didn't even find out her name until we were nearly at Paddington.

And I didn't record her full name at all: Jayne Philpott.

There I helped her put her barang in left luggage, and then got a taxi with my own and both of us off to Liverpool St., where I had to borrow some money from her to pay for the taxi. Put my stuff in left luggage, and then we set off, walked to Moorgate tube station, and caught the tube to Piccadilly, considerably disgusting an old lady with our conduct, and inciting her to call us dirty beasts, etc. Oh, it is wonderful to be with a girl like Jayne, who is as non-conformist as I. Went to the Piccolo Bar, not for the first time, and had some real coffee—guess who else drinks it black, without sugar!

In those days, at any rate, black coffee wasn't just a preference: it was a statement of non-conformity.

Then took some photos of her near Piccadilly circus, while a Yank with an SRT 101 [Minolta SLR] took a photo of the couple of us, presumably as a couple of swinging Londoners, which amused Jayne as much as it did me. Then walked down Piccadilly, completely ignoring anybody else—what fun it is to be able to make love [clearly a term I didn't understand] without caring what other people think. Ended up, after seeing a selection of paintings on the other side, at Hyde Park Corner, and went into Green Park. It was raining, we had an umbrella up, and we had just finished a kiss when along came an old man, sniffing at a briar rose, saw us, and said „Ah, true love“, and offered Jayne his rose, who took it, sniffed it, and, not having a buttonhole, put it in her handbag. That scene will remain as the highlight of a day that will take me a long time to forget—Jayne is so like me, and likes me so, and we were both very sad to eventually have to part. Took some more photos of her, and swapped addresses, while she told me that she had been interested in me as soon as I had first nearly run her down. She lived everything about me—my hair, my beard, my eyes, and liked me for liking her. Oh, is fate not cruel that I should be separated from a girl like this only 11 hours after meeting her. When I finally did leave her, at Hyde Park Corner tube station, off for a makan I could hardly eat, and then for a wild goose chase round Liverpool St. Station, on the train, spoke to the girl opposite long enough to have a few sweets forced down my throat, disappointed her by falling asleep. On the boat, fell asleep almost immediately, waking only long enough to change my money.

Monday, 25 September 1967	→ Bremerhaven → Hamburg
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Up at about 0600 this morning, having been unable to get back to sleep for about half an hour, and while I was up, cleaned my teeth, and then got back down to writing up for yesterday, after which I became again tired, and so back to sleep for a while, and then again got up, remembered my tooth-brush and -paste, but some bastard had stolen my toothpaste. Then sat around for a while considering breakfast, but I didn't feel like forking out DM 3.30 for a continental breakfast, and so instead went hungry. Came back and found my sofa taken by a bloke and a bird, the latter of whom did not look too well, and who had my rug over her, so I left it, went to sleep on the next sofa, and up only shortly before the ship came into Bremerhaven. Then off, had to pay a Gepäckträger [porter] 4 DM to get my Gepäck [luggage] to the bus, and probably would not have got it on at all had I not insisted on it. Off to Hamburg, after having to pay 1.50 DM on my coffee and tea, and watched the bloke next to me take a travel sickness tablet and then fall uncontrollably asleep—poor bastard.

Arrived at Hamburg ZOB at about 1240 hrs, and another 2.50 to Gepäckträger and 6.50 for a taxi to the flat, where it eventuated that Matin had thought I had meant I was coming before 1200 hrs, and so had gone off somewhere, and I ended up, having eaten nothing but a couple of sweets for the past 24 hours, carrying my entire Gepäck up 2 flights of stairs—how's that for stamina? Sweating like a pig—I was completely soaked by the time I got the stuff up there. Frau Plehn talking incessantly, and then I managed to slip out for makan, and also to find out about pentaprisms. The one at Wiesenhavern's was gone, but I was offered another for 60 DM new, and as it is in perfect condition, I shall probably buy it when I get some more money. Had makan in town, observed a Wimpy bar in Steindamm, not far from the Wikinger Hof (3-10.VIII.1963). Still more expensive than in London, though Bratwürste are no more expensive in London than here—or not worth noting, anyway.

Then back, started a letter to Jayne and unpacked, which I did concurrently, and after a few hours (in which Frau Plehn came in and ventured the opinion that I would have to put some stuff in the attic—to hell with that—finally got some order out of it. Then Matin back, and had a bird there, and rather a misunderstanding when a friend came and I let him in by mistake—oh, what the hell. Round the corner for makan—another Bratwurst, and then back home and had a bath, while Frau Plehn showed me how to do the water heater so that it would not explode. Funny.

Tuesday, 26 September 1967	Hamburg
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Woke up late this morning, noting odd noises coming from outside, which doubtless represented Matin's and Frau Plehn's attempts at getting up, and so followed suit, and then back in to my room to continue my letter to Jayne. I have a nasty feeling that nothing is going to come of this, simply because we didn't know each other long enough. Admittedly, I didn't particularly want to get involved in any lasting relationship when it all started off, but I most certainly feel like doing so now. Still, they say time cures all things, and I certainly hope it will cure this—either make me forget about Jayne or (far more preferably) bring her again in contact with me.

Then Matin (who had just had a bath) invited me into his room for a sort of breakfast, and this lasted a good 3 hours (as near as I can judge), and in this time remarkably little seemed to happen—I don't know what it is that makes time go so quickly by Matin.

Then back into my room again, carried on writing to Jayne the beloved, and then off with Matin at his suggestion to go shopping, and bought a hell of a lot of food—1¼ kilos of Schwarzbrot [black bread], which, at DM 1:35, was not exactly cheap. I wonder if I shouldn't change to Graubrot [grey bread, i.e. brown]—though nothing would induce me to start on Weißbrot [white bread] again—or at any rate, it would have to be a pretty strong incentive. Then back, while Matin cooked some quite passable makan out of equally simple raw materials. Shall have to get round to doing a bit of cooking myself—though it all depends on what I get for money in the next month or so.

After that, dragged myself away from Matin long enough to finish off my letter to Jayne, and then outside and down to the electronics shop about 200 m down the road—my opinion increased considerably of this when the [sic] actually had a bit for my soldering gun—and also a cheap EB91 (actually, they call it an EAA91 here—suppose it is more logical, as it has 2 cathodes).

This was a 7 pin thermionic diode.

Then found a post office miles away—actually, I suppose 1,3 km or so, or even less—and posted my letter to beloved, and then came back and stuck the EAA91 into my ANL, and lo and behold! it worked! I wonder if there was something wrong with the 6AL5 I had in it before.

In the evening, had no makan, making do on a billy of tea, and then started writing a letter to Paul, and before too long my typewriter fell apart, and in the process I learnt a lot about Olivetti typewriters—fascinating mechanisms. Matin also lent me a book which he claims holds all I need for my first semester. Late to bed (0110 hrs).

Wednesday, 27 September 1967	Hamburg
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Up even later this morning—this is not to continue. There is really no reason to get to bed as late as I did last night, and even less reason to sleep as much longer as I did. When I got up, Matin had already been around for a while, and people were messing around. Was feeling a bit grotty—sore throat, which felt suspiciously like swollen glands, which seems more likely considering that Jayne said that she has recently been suffering from that complaint. Still, for Jayne's sake it would be well worth having. Mentioned that to Matin, who gave me an APC as being a good cure, although I must confess I had my doubts. Anyway, then back to my room, and carried on with my letter to Paul until Matin came in about an hour later, and we both went off to the Wäscherei [laundry] with our dirty clothes. Put them in to wash there, and then across the road to a supermarket, which just happened to be there, and made quite a few purchases, and then back to the house with the same, and had makan—halbes Hähchnen [chicken], which brings back memories.

Then back again to the Wäscherei, where our Wäsche was hanging about in plastic baskets, paid 10 pf to dry it, and then took it home. Reckoning with Matin, in which I discovered, rather to my shock, that I had bought 13½ DM worth of food. Oh well, it ought to last a while, anyway.

After that, again to my room. I think that Matin must in the meantime have disappeared—said something to me, in any case, that if any birds arrived, to let not more than one in. Confusing.

Then messing around, and feeling decidedly grotty—mainly, I suppose, because of my throat/glands. Took about 4 or 5 different types of pills, and then, after finishing and posting my letter to Paul, went across the road to a bookshop and bought a file, and came back home and trying to organise all my photographic stuff, which has been floating around so long in a mess., a little better, and managed to to fill the thing just about choc-a-bloc, which will be worrying if I get much more stuff.

Then thinking about connecting a second speaker onto my radio, and was about to measure the impedance rates [sic] with my scope, when I discovered that the vertical gain control had given up the ghost, and after I fixed that, the X shift followed suit, and in the end I just connected the 2 up together without bothering about the impedance match.

Thursday, 28 September 1967	Hamburg
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Oh, what a way to spend a birthday! I don't think I have ever had a worse birthday. Woke up round about 0515 feeling (and in all probability looking) like death warmed up, and off to the bog to dispose of what fluid I could, though at the same time feeling quite convinced that I would never be able to consume any more, such was the state of my throat. Made a resolution to buy some lozenges when the shops opened, and then off as best I could to sleep again. After a while woke up, and it was 0900, and so got up, dressed, and downstairs—no letters—that would be too much to expect on my birthday—and across the road to buy some lozenges, and discovered afterwards that they were made in England—I wonder what the relative production of medicines of England and Germany are.

Then back home to suck these lozenges. I had already taken a Saridon, and for one reason or another the pain cleared up a little. Matin was still asleep, so I managed to occupy myself in my room in some way or another until I heard Matin staggering about outside in the morning ritual. Frau Plehn had meanwhile decided that she would tidy up my room, and expressed her opinion of rearranging all my books in the cupboard, and even showed me her room as an example—admittedly, they look nice in the Schrank, but it is too much of a fiddle to have to get up and get the things all the time. Went in to have tea with Matin, who meanwhile opined that I ought to go and see a doctor if I wanted to have any success with my cure, but it took a while for me to be convinced. Back in, as he reckoned Frau Plehn was right cheesed off with me, but managed to get my way in most things, and will subsequently with the rest.

Then back in with Matin, and by this time had decided that my pastilles, expensive as they were, were not having much effect, so asked Matin where there was an Arzt near at hand. „Ach, Mensch, die sind überall“ [Man, they're everywhere]. On a bit more compulsion, he suggested that I come with him at 1600 hrs, and he would help me find one, and so in the meantime off to sleep, and did a little towards trying to organise my photo stuff.

Then put on a coat and a pair of shoes, and off with Matin, got about 300m, came back again for my passport, and then off again, and got as far as Mundsburg, by which time we had seen 2 Zahnärzte [dentists], but none that would be any good to me, so off to the Uni and to his doctor there, who prescribed some tablets which had to be ½ sucked and ½ swallowed. Odd.

Got back home, and felt awful—weakened by the walking about, and despite sucking the tablets there was little immediate effect. Managed to make myself an egg flip, and after getting rid of Frau Plehn, off to bed at about 1900. I miss Jayne terribly.

Friday, 29 September 1967	Hamburg
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Woke up at a more conventional time than usual this morning, with my throat feeling considerably better than yesterday, and indeed feeling almost human. Stuck my head into Matin's room, but though it was already 0830, he was yet fast asleep, so got dressed, etc, and (hopefully) down to the letter box, where unfortunately there was yet no mail, so back up again, feeling somewhat more depressed and ravenously hungry, so into the kitchen to get some stuff, and took it into my room, and started eating bread and Wurst/Käse, though I hardly expect this is the most balanced diet I could think out. Still, wait until I get some money, and then I will be able to buy some cooking utensils and do some proper cooking.

After that, feeling at a somewhat loose end, and decided to give Dad a dig about my money, with reminders of what terrible consequences were liable to befall me were I not to be able to pay my rent, and this, along with an attempt to find why my tab key aligned itself 4 spaces away (was bent that far!) took me a goodly portion of the morning.

Did not really have lunch, unless the sandwich which I had closer to 1300 hrs than the others should have any more claim to this title—I just kept eating Butterbröte [sic—should be Butterbrote, i.e. sandwiches] as I got the urge, which is fine when one has the time, but I don't suppose I will be able to keep it up long. Besides, to say the least, I am getting somewhat tired of Butterbröte and Käse/Wurst. Carried on with my somewhat aimless activities, though I did get round to tidying up my Schreibtisch [desk] and drawers somewhat, and then set to to try and get my exposure record up to date, and with this had a limited degree of success, though it quickly occurred to me that, with my SV notes and what else, I would never get it all into the one file, and so put the exposure records into my old camera file which I emptied the day before yesterday into the file I bought then. However, I do not have enough paper to finish off even the records I have—not to mention such things as films developed, etc. After that, getting a little worried about the failure of my ANL circuit again, but even though I completely dismantled and reassembled the thing, it still doesn't work. One of the components must have given up the ghost—I wonder which.

Got Matin, who was going out, to post my letter, and meanwhile I was invaded by Frau Plehn. I am going to have to get a few friends here quickly, so that I don't have to put up with her coming in. Read a rather gruesome love story in Quick on her reccomendation [sic], and then later, feeling bored, off for a walk to the Alster and then back again. Saw Matin again—had to, as I had been bolted out—and then talking with him about women. If there is one thing I dislike about him, it is his pessimism. Late to bed.

Saturday, 30 September 1967	Hamburg
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After that late night discussion with Matin, I slept in even longer than he—and, unless I am very much mistaken, he also did a considerable quantity of work after I went to bed. Oh, what the hell, it doesn't make much odds anyway. When he came in, he had a letter from Mum which had been addressed to the Halletts, and which, inter alia, contained a cheque for £10··0··0—which is, to say the least, a bit of a problem, what with Frau Plehn wanting rent in excess of this tomorrow. Still, life will not come to an end (hoffentlich), and I will probably be able to persuade her something.

Then got up and decided that I had better write a letter to her—in fact, seeing as though this is the first letter I have had from her for the best part of 3 months, I was feeling rather happy that it was not a particularly unpleasant one—in fact, more positively pleasant, I really felt like writing her a letter.

However, first in with Matin for morning tea, and then back in to start on the letter, with which, despite all good intentions, I quickly became bored, and in any case (or possibly consequently) could not think of anything to say. Left that, and then started thinking (apart from food) about my exposure records, which are still far from complete.

After a bit to eat, set down to work on this, and also tried to get some music on my radio—it is fantastically difficult in this country, especially as there seems to be so much static. I expect the next few months will see me making extensive additions to my PCR, possibly even including an FM tuner inboard if this is at all feasible (though that would certainly involve a lot of metal drilling, even if I used something like the Sinclair FM tuner. Then I will simply have to do something about the ANL—when (if) I get a multimeter it shouldn't be too difficult to trace the defect. It can't be anything else than a bias defect, otherwise the thing would still short when the valve was out.

After a while, feeling rather board with reading “Chats about Photography”, decided to go and ring up Corinna, who was, as I rather expected, although pleased to hear me, busy, and could not come out, either this weekend, when she had work to do, or next, when the whole family was going to Dänemark, but in 2 weeks time she would see what she could do—boy, she must be having fun with the work.

Back home again, while we got a few more cautions from Frau Plehn, and then talking with Matin for a while, who wanted me to hear his English. Pronounciation/spelling is obviously a bastard for students of English, such as I would never have experienced. Later out again for a walk, this time with a camera, and some quite nice photos offered themselves.

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