06 December, 2020

Pico Iyer

Pico Iyer
outlookindia.com
-0001-11-30T00:00:00+05:53

My eighteenth year was when the world was suddenly flung open to me. Until then, I’d been mostly incarcerated within medieval boarding-school cloisters, where I regarded Keats and D.H. Lawrence as the greatest adventures imaginable. But my eighteenth year was when I took my first summer-long trip around my parents’ India, and got to savour my first taste of Bombay and Dharamshala; my eighteenth year was when I took on my first job, fecklessly impersonating a Spanish-speaking sub-waiter at Pancho Villa Inn, a Mexican restaurant in Santa Barbara, California; my eighteenth year was when I went on my first official- seeming date, to see, too fittingly, a new movie of Hesse’s Steppenwolf, starring Max Van Sydow and Dominique Sanda.

My eighteenth year was also the time when I took my first major trip, uncha­peroned,  getting into a bus in the Mex­ican border town of Tijuana, and then travelling for the next three mon­ths, with an equally unschooled classmate, through Guatemala and the jungles of Colombia and over the passes of the...

unsub

THIS ARTICLE IS PRICELESS...

To read this piece, and more such stories in India's most exciting and exacting magazine, plus get access to our 25-year archives goldmine, please subscribe.


In this article:

More from Pico Iyer


Latest Magazine

December 14, 2020
content

other articles from the issue

articles from the previous issue

Other magazine section