From Aphrodite's Children

Photo by Joe Mabel GNU Free Documentation License

At six the next morning the taxi appeared. Climbing the valley in the early morning sunlight the vehicle, which was large-wheeled and old-fashioned, looked like a cross between a jalopy and a tank. Heavy, uneven and scratched all over, it moved in spurts. The front axle showed as it bounced up the track, pitching forward and back. As it approached the cottage it slowed and steadied, then swung through a gate and clattered loudly over a cattle grid. Once in, it circled the field, weaving left then right as if in search of an opening. Finally it straightened and approached the back door at 45°, crab-wise, slewed, sliding over mud.

 “Two-three-four!” The call blared out from a trumpet-like address system strapped to the roof.

The vehicle pulled up. Grey and battered round the back and sides, the windscreen was tinted and the bonnet covered with stickers and hand-painted designs. Underneath, the metal was grey-black and yellow, caked with mud and torn-off branches; to the rear the paint was scored deep and abraded; while the radiator was hung with beads and bunting and a string-hung plaque naming it in red as the ‘MAGIC TAXI’.

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Being there...

• This Was Then
• Abbie Hoffman
• Hoffman and Syd Barrett
• And away with the Fairies
• Pirate Radio, the Last Frontier
• The Art of Excess
• OZ Magazine
• From Aphrodite's Children