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In the early 70's me and Sal lived in a tidy bedsit in South Croydon. I drove a van (which I had personal use of), Sal worked at the law courts collecting fines. We'd work, smoke hash, fuck like rabbits, play Velvet Underground records. It was a good life.
Later we moved to a self-contained flat in Thornton Heath. It was a shit flat but meant we could have a cat so we got a black cat called Rizla. She was lovely.
Then we got a squat together with our friend Tony who I'd met working at Walls on Purley Way, 2 Beulah Road. The business.
The squat fell apart eventually - we were attracting the wrong kind drug addicted idiot and the housing association wanted it back. Me and Sal wound up with our parents, me working nigh shifts at a bakery.
We got back together, I proposed on the Kings Road in Chelsea and we got married in Croydon then went back to our folks as we had nowhere to live.
We found a bedsit in Brixton, then moved to a top floor flat in Branksome Road. Sal had got into Croydon Art College by then. She couldn't get accepted by a London college but was offered a place in Liverpool, so off we went to the third world.
It was weird. No cars. Packs of dogs roaming the streets.
I'll continue when I get 600 followers.
Things weren't great in Liverpool. To find somewhere to live we signed up to a very dodgy "rental purchase" scheme and got an attic flat in Princes Road. One by one the other occupants of the the building left. It felt like a squat.
I couldn't get work so spent most of my time barricading myself against burglars, people coming through the roof! We had mice so got a lovely black and white cat called Lucky. One time, our shit pipe got stolen!
I once had this smarmy hippie say "Hey man, how's it hanging?" (or s/t similar) to me on the street. Maybe he'd heard I had a good dope connection. I was so appalled I went straight home and hacked off my hair. I must have looked like Sid Vicious.
When Sal got home she literally screamed at the sight of my hair and insisted on tidying it up. I was the original punk, man. Wore layers of jumpers with holes in and black Jet straight leg jeans. I didn't really like South Croydon hippies.
