Wednesday, September 8, 2010

SCOTTY: THE QUEST FOR MATALA'S LAST HIPPIE

Dear Friends,

I am sure that many of you have heard or read about noble quests which have been pursued throughout history - some were spiritual, some were historical, and others were for treasure. There was the quest for the Holy Grail, the quest for Shangri La, the search for El Dorado, the search for the Ark of the Covenant, the search for Black Beard's gold and for Captain Kidd's treasure. Well, I have embarked on a quest of sorts. Many of you may think it is frivolous..a waste of time. But, when my attention is grasped and I think there may be a story buried or a mystery to be uncovered, I delve into it with great fervor.

I'm sure when you were on Crete, at one time or another you probably heard others talking about the hippies at Matala who were living in the caves there. It was Life Magazine which first ran a story with photos in 1968 about a number of young people called "hippies", who were living in caves at the little seaside village of Matala on the southern coast of Crete. But, of course, the caves weren't really caves at all, but rather Roman tombs. These young hippies had moved into the caves (tombs) to live their idyllic lifestyle. There were even reports that piles of bones, topped with human skulls, could be found in some of the caves. However, finally recognizing the historical and archaeological importance of these Roman tombs, the hippies had been forced to vacate the caves (tombs) years ago, probably in the mid or late 1970's. At any rate, sometime around October of 2009, I accidentally stumbled across a photograph on the internet entitled, "The Last Hippie at Matala", which was on Matala: Hippies and Real Fun on Facebook. I borrowed that photograph, along with some earlier photographs of the hippies at Matala and posted them on my blog in October 2009, along with some of my own photos of the caves and Matala after having visited there. Later I received an E-Mail from someone who had read my blog and claimed to know Scotty, the last hippie at Matala. NOTE: It should be pointed out here that Scotty is also variously known as Scotti, Skotty, or Skotti. The first report was that Scotty has passed away about a year earlier, but later this report was proven incorrect. Subsequently, it was reported that Scotty was suffering from ill health and a possible stroke, and was living in a home for the aged in the Iraklion area. But, around July 10, 2010, I received a link to a short video of a birthday gathering for Scotty in Matala. I was able to make contact with the man who shot the video. He stated that he believed Scotty was now living in a rest home for the elderly in the area of Mires, not far from Matala. Sensing the importance of documenting the significance of Scotty's life as the last hippie at Matala, I set out on a quest to track him down.

I took a bus to Matala shortly after mid-July 2010. When I arrived in Matala, I began to inquire of shop owners if any of them knew a man called, "Scotty". To my amazement, they all knew Scotty. The entire village of Matala was on a first name basis with Scotty! It seemed Scotty was a celebrity of sorts. I have been aware of only a few people who have ever been known only by their first name to the masses - Jesus, Napoleon, Elvis, and now...Scotty. When I asked the whereabouts of Scotty, no one seemed to know anything definitive. One older Greek gentleman said that Scotty was in Mires; a young woman said he was in a home for old people near Iraklion; and, at least two others said that he was in a monastery, being cared for by monks. I was told if anyone knew where Scotty was, it would be a man named, Franck. Franck apparently was a very close friend of Scotty's. When I asked where I might find Franck, I was told that he could usually be found walking down the main street in Matala. I had no idea what Franck looked like, but I was told it would be easy to spot him. He had long hair, an unkempt appearance, and was hobbling on a crutch due to a recent leg injury. I entered a small taverna on the main street in Matala, ordered a Cretan salad, a cold Mythos beer, and waited...and waited. It was a hot day and not much air was circulating in downtown Matala, so I ordered another Mythos. The second one tasted even better than the first...and colder, too! After having waited there for the better part of two hours, I came to the conclusion that either I had missed Franck, or else he had already come and gone. I left the taverna and began to wander around Matala, looking for anyone on a crutch or a cane...or even limping. But, I didn't see anyone who even remotely matched the description of Franck. I took the next bus out of Matala bound for Iraklion, arriving there in late afternoon. Then, I caught the Number 6 bus near Bus Station "B" for Amoudara. I arrived back at my apartment, hot, tired and disappointed that I had not come away from Matala with the knowledge of Scotty's location. I actually began to wonder if perhaps the people of Matala were trying to keep "outsiders" from learning the whereabouts of their beloved Scotty - as if they were attempting to protect him. Maybe they had even given me false or misleading information in an effort to direct me away from Scotty...to put me on a false trail. At that point I decided I needed to enlist the help of some my friends who lived here on Crete and to ask for their assistance. First I talked with friends of mine who owned a local hotel in Amoudara, and also with my very good friend, Miltiadis (Miltos). Miltos said that he would inquire of others about a monastery near Iraklion that cared for elderly people. Time passed. In the meantime, I was getting ready for Crete Reunion 2010. At our initial dinner on the evening of August 22, 2010, one of the wives of a former airman who was stationed at Iraklion Air Station, attempted to locate Scotty, but she didn't have any real success. Then, on August 26, 2010, Jim and Pat Janakes and I drove to Phaestos to visit the ancient archaeological ruins and then drove on to Matala. After taking several photos of the caves (Roman tombs) at Matala, we decided to have a drink and a little noonday snack at a small taverna just off the wooden walkway to the tombs. While there, I asked our waiter if he perhaps knew Scotty. Yes, he knew him, but he didn't know where Scotty was. Next, I asked if he knew Franck. He pointed to a small group of people seated on the ground just off the end of his taverna. "Franck," he called out, and then spoke something in Greek which I didn't understand. One man, seated on the ground, motioned for me to come over. He had a small crutch laying beside him. I approached him, introduced myself and asked if he knew Scotty. He nodded yes. I then asked if he knew where Scotty was and that I wanted to visit him. Franck told me the name of the place where Scotty was living and being cared for. When I returned to Amoudara that afternoon, I was told by a hotel proprietor that he had located the monastery in which Scotty was staying. He told me the name of the facility...it was the same name that Franck in Matala had given me. Finally, I felt as if I were finally closing in on Scotty - the last hippie at Matala!

On the evening of Monday, August 30, 2010, I received an E-Mail from an American friend of mine living here on Crete. He said that he knew exactly where Scotty was being cared for, and would arrive the next morning just after 9:30 A.M. to to take me to the monastery. And, true to his word, the following morning just after 9:30 A.M., Joe pulled up on his little Honda motorbike. Now, I wasn't really sure about riding on the back of a motorbike through Iraklion traffic, and I wondered if it was a bad omen when Joe and I pulled away from the front of my apartment with Joe wearing a helmet, and the only thing separating me from Eternity was only a thin layer of my hair that would act as a cushion between my skull and the pavement. However, I must admit that Joe knew the traffic and possessed the necessary skills to navigate safely. After only a couple of wrong turns, we pulled up in front of the Church. Around to the left side of the Church were signs that pointed to "Girokomeo", or a facility for elderly people. I followed the flight of stairs upward to a second story level. Through the double doors, I could see a long corridor lined with elderly people, most sitting in either chairs or on sofas in the hallway. The door was locked, so we proceeded downward in an attempt to find an alternate entrance. About that time, we heard the sound of doors being unlocked above. A white-haired man stood at the double doorways at the top of the stairs. I hurried upward, fearing that he might relock the doors before I had a chance to enter. I quickly stepped through the double doors and asked him, "Do you speak English?" He smiled, "Yes, a little." "Do you know a man named, Scotty?" I asked. "Yes," and then looking down the hallway, he called out, "Scotty!" He led us down the corridor to a man seated in a chair beside a sofa. The man was wearing a ball cap, had mostly white hair, light blue eyes, a scruffy beard and a toothless grin. I looked at him. "Are you Scotty?" I asked. "Yes, I am Scotty." At long last I had found the last hippie at Matala. I asked him if I could talk with him about his days at Matala. At first he seemed a little hesitant...almost reluctant, but then, as he began to open up, his light blue eyes danced about the room as he laughed and reminisced about a time long ago. He told me that he was born in 1940, but on my second visit with Scotty on September 3, 2010, he told me that he was born on June 20, 1939. This date was substantiated from a short biography about Scotty which I found online. From this same biography, I learned that Scotty's first name was actually Hans. Scotty told me that he was born in Scotland of a Scottish mother and a German father. During World War Two, Scotty's father organized resistance and fought against the Nazi regime. After the end of World War Two, Scotty and his parents moved to Germany where Scotty was raised and educated. I asked Scotty what year he first arrived in Matala. He told me that he first visited Matala at age eighteen (1957) with an uncle who had come to Crete on business, but he did not actually come to live at Matala until 1964 - at that time he would have been either twenty-four or twenty-five. I asked Scotty if he remembered any of those who had lived with him in the caves at Matala. He smiled and said that he remembered many of them, and even recalled the caves in which some of them had lived, but many of them were now dead. He reminded me there were many who had lived in the caves at Matala, and there was a constant coming and going of people. Some, who had been living there in the caves awhile became disillusioned with the hippie lifestyle and left, while others who were disillusioned with the lifestyle of the world sought refuge in the caves at Matala and to live the hippie lifestyle of free love, peace and flower power. So, apparently, there was a frequent turnover of tenants in the caves, but the rent was cheap and Scotty stayed on. I inquired of Scotty how he made money while living at Matala. He said, "I made jewelry and sold paintings." I learned that Scotty had actually studied art in Sweden and France. He told me that sometimes he would sell as many as four or five paintings in a day. "Good money," he said, smiling, as he rubbed the ends of his four fingers and thumb together.

Around Scotty's neck hung a small wooden cross and a long iron key almost five inches long. "Did you make the cross, Scotty?" I asked. "Yes, that was some of the jewelry I made at Matala," he replied. "And what is that key hanging around your neck?" I asked, pointing at the key dangling on a thin cord. "That is the key to my house in Matala," Scotty responded. "One day I will return." He gently caressed the key in his hand, almost as if it had feelings.

At one point during our interview, an elderly woman shuffled to Scotty's side. He reached up and slid his arm around her waist. "How do you like my hippie woman?" he asked, smiling. I couldn't help but smile myself. "Scotty, I like her just fine," I responded. Then the old woman reached around and with an unparalleled act of gentle kindness, softly stroked the side of Scotty's face. I don't believe that I have ever witnessed a kinder, more gentler act of affection than what I observed at that moment.

There were moments during the interview when I saw Scotty glancing wistfully out the window, while at the same time gently touching the large iron key that hung round his neck. But it didn't appear as if Scotty were looking at something in the courtyard or even in the garden below. His gaze seemed transfixed on something far away, perhaps on Matala, and perhaps to an era of youthful days that have long since evaporated like the morning mist.

Whether I agree or disagree with the counter-cultural, anti-establishment hippie philosophy of peace, love and flower power, is completely irrelevant. The hippie movement had a dramatic and international impact on war, peace, and everything that fell in between the two. I have to admire Scotty that he stuck with his convictions and never abandoned them. It would have been easy for him to have left Matala, just as all the rest eventually did. But he never deserted Matala or the hippie philosophy, even though he had been deserted by all the others who had come and gone in Matala.

When I left and walked through the garden and courtyard beneath the large building where Scotty now lived, I turned and looked up at the window under which Scotty and I had been seated. I couldn't help but feel that somehow Scotty's heart and spirit would always remain at Matala. As I walked away from the monastery, I think that I came to the realization that Scotty would never really die; he would just gradually fade into the tapestry woven from the threads of his very colorful life.

Take care, stay well, and let me hear from you.

Your Friend and Fellow "Silent Warrior",

Bob Armistead
P.S.: Many thanks to George, Irini, Joe, Maro, and Miltos for your assistance in helping me locate Scotty and get to the monastery.
NOTE: Click on any photo to get a larger image.










UPPER LEFT PHOTO: August 31, 2010 - Scotty, the last hippie of Matala.
UPPER RIGHT PHOTO: August 31, 2010 - Scotty (L) and Bob Armistead (R) enjoy a light moment during the interview.















UPPER LEFT PHOTO: September 3, 2010 - Scotty, the last hippie of Matala, tilts his head to one side as he ponders an answer to a question.
UPPER RIGHT PHOTO: September 3, 2010 - Scotty, proudly shows off a wooden cross he carved while at Matala, and a large iron key to his home in Matala.















UPPER LEFT PHOTO: September 3, 2010 - Scotty (R) slips his arm around an older lady at the home, then smiles and asks, "How do you like my hippie woman?"
UPPER RIGHT PHOTO: September 3, 2010 - In response, Scotty's hippie woman, gently pats the side of his face.









UPPER LEFT PHOTO: September 3, 2010 - Scotty (L), Matala's last hippie, and Bob Armistead (R) pose for one last photo together.
UPPER RIGHT PHOTO: September 3, 2010 - The monastery building in which Scotty now lives.

35 comments:

Laust One said...

Once again you've done a great job Bobby. Hope you continue bringing us up to date and back to Crete with you!

adiktion said...

What an investigative reporter you are! Your writing skills are terrific. Always puts me right in the room with you.
I have been to Matala and think I would have enjoyed a year or so of living there. A lifetime of it takes a certain person and I can see it in Scotty's face.

Thank you for taking me on that journey with you!

Bob (Bobby) said...

Adiktion,

Please send your E-Mail address to me. I need to ask you something.

Bob Armistead

Deirdre said...

Hi Bob,
Deirdre here from Ireland :)
Now deeply curious to visit Matala!
Thanks for giving me the link to your blog. You write beautifully, so engaging. Sorry if I was too forward in giving you my email address. It's just that I had really enjoyed our conversation. I was disappointed not to hear from you but I understand. Wishing you more wonderful exploration and adventures this summer in Crete.
Deirdre

simone said...

Thanks a lot for that article and the pictures of scotty - nice to see that he's still doing fine and his eyes tell me he's still original :-) met him the last time in 05/2009 also at the monastery...

Anonymous said...

This is a great report, Bobby. I have made a few trips to Matala within the last 15 years and met Skotty once or twice. I missed him last time I was there.

There used to be a quite a long story of his life on the web, written in German but I lost the link and haven't been able to find it for a long time.

Colin Lees

Lisa Michaelis said...

Thanks for posting!!!

lg Lisa

Lisa Michaelis said...

Thanks for posting!! Feels good that Scotty is in good shape. LG Lisa

Stewart said...

Hi Bob,
Thanks for writing and for continuing to update your blog on all things to do with Crete. Your love for this island comes through all the words and pic's you have posted over the years, that I have just discovered.
I first visited Crete in 1985, to work in Archanes, near Heraklion picking grapes! I ended up staying in Rethymnon later on and then working with olives in a village called Spilia near, Kolimvari in Western Crete.
This was the beginning of a five year residence in Greece, including time spent living and working in Crete.
I have many stories and adventures that I could relate to you of my time spent in Greece at that time, as well.
I travelled widely throughout Greece, playing music with my guitar and singing wherever and whenever I could mainly in restaurants, bars, pubs and clubs) and as a working musician, I met some of the finest Greek composers and musicians including Nikos Papazoglou(who sadly passed away this year)- there are some nice stories about him if you are interested to know more, let me know by return... Haris Alexiou,Galani, Parios,Dimitri Panagopoulos and many, many others not so well known but equally as good.

Over the intervening years I have been back and spent more time there and lived again Crete in Vryses, near Georgioupoli and in other places too.
I was in Matala last year for a few days (in late June early July) and I met George the fisherman, who always wears colourful flowers behind his ears! You must know of him or are aware of him in the Matala landscape?
For some reason I always called him Petros! Anyway,I had already met him years ago when I visited Matala.
He recounted his story of his love affair with Joni Mitchell to me and while she was in Matala (who knows if it was true at all) but it is certainly true that Joni was there!

We have to go back in time a little here for my link with Joni Mitchell and her song Carey and Matala, Crete.

You see, when I was at college in London from 1977-1979 my tutor (a man called Robin Rowley) who was a great guitarist and he had a powerful voice, used to have music "jams"/get-togethers at his flat where we would play songs and generally have a good time, as you invariably do when musicians get together!
One of the songs we would always play (because his girlfriend liked the song and used to sing it) was Carey! Little did I know then that this song was all about Joni and her time in Matala in Crete!
So Geroge and I were sipping some drinks (mainly Raki of some sort) outside his home:
Do you know his home on the left side of the road, going towards the restaurants at the end of the main strip(near the square)on the way to the beach- with all the vegetables in the garden on the outside?
I had my guitar with me and he asked me if I knew "Carey" and of course I did so... in D major...
"The wind is in from Africa, last night I couldn't sleep"....
I don't know if you have ever slept in any rooms near the beach but I have and I can assure you.... that wind blows hard "coming from Africa" and it was hard to sleep that night,I was in Matala.
I played it and he gave me the booklet from Blue(with the words to it) which I have in front of me as I type these words!
It's a small world....

Bob (Bobby) said...

Dear Stewart, Thank you for your comments. It seems as though you have also had many adventures on Crete and have a definite connection to Matala. I plan to return to Crete in just a week and also intend to visit Matala once again. I will look for some of those whom you mentioned in your comments. I would love to hear more about your adventures when you were on Crete.

Your Friend,

Bob

Stewart said...

Hi Bob,
Thanks for the reply.
George is quite a character and if you have been going to Matala over the years it is a surprise you have not seen or bumped into him a least somewhwere in Matala.
On the wall on the beach (on the left side) painted in big blue letters can be seen :
Welcome to Matala George (it's him that painted it!)
Today is Life Tomorrow never comes
On this youtube Matala video (@ 8:35 if you want to skip the beginning)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_TlRKaEbClo&feature=related
You can find George in Matala:
Look out for a man with pink flowers behind his ears, you can't miss him!
Look out for his distinctive house situated, as I posted previously,on the way down to the restaurants/bars on the far left of the beach. His house is opposite a (a Greek blue painted) restaurant and is behind a wall with vegetables in it! You can't miss it/him.
He might remember me from last year!

Stewart said...

Going back to my time in Crete in the 1980's

I remember my first day of work grape -picking in Archanes, Crete in 1985.
It's comical for me to think of it now, 26 years later.
I was dressed so smartly in white, clean trousers and a nice sky blue coloured top, as if I was going to a disco! I remember that my fellow workers around me were dressed in mainly dirty, black and used soiled clothing!
So there I was early in the morning (7-8 am) waiting and looking for work, with my friend Mike for the Farmers to come to look for workers in the main square.

We did not have long to wait as a Greek woman ran up to me and my friend Mike, Pointed to us.
I am convinced, to this day, it was due to my impeccable appearance!
I only knew a few words of Greek at that time: "Nai" (yes), "ohi" (no),"Efharisto" (thanks), "Psomi" (bread) "Kali Mera/ Kali Nichta" (Good morning/ Good Night) "Ehete doulia?" (Have you got any work?) and now, perhaps the most important words to know were: "Possa?" ( How much?) with the movement of the thumb and fingers of the left hand rubbing gently up and down. Our Greek and hand movements were readily understood.
The money was okay, agreed and off we went.
The farmer and his wife had also selected a Polish couple, which proved to be a problem because once we got started the Polish couple were working like they were possessed by the devil, to prove what good workers they were. That was a problem for me and my friend Mike as we had to keep up with them. It is a funny thing, but I can still recall that first morning of work as if it was yesterday. I thought that I was going to die, with all the running around like a headless chicken and all the cutting and moving up the hill like beavers and the farmer barking out instructions as to where and how he wanted the work done. Eventually a break was made for Cigarettes and a lovely Greek salad and an opportunity to have a word with the Polish workers. Success! I had survived the first few hours!


I stayed in Archanes all that summer and until the work ran out and the heavy rains came in October and I made my way to Rethymnon, which back then was a sleepy old town, not as it is today.
Eventually, I found some work with a farmer in Spilia near Kolimvari.
So ended up working until January of February of the next year and eventually made my way back to Athens, where the rest of my Greek adventure would continue including making my living playing music in Greece. That's another story for another time.

Britt said...

I've been in Matala one week ago and i really liked it! I was very curious for scotty and now i found your blog! thank you very much!!

delo said...

I'm sorry for my english. I'm italian (Sicily).
Two years ago it was my first time in Matala. My husband was been in Matala for the first time twelve years ago when he was a student of archaelogy to escave the roman rest on the mountain, and then he returned in Matala every summer. He met many time Scotty before he gone away. This night we was talking about Matala (we were been there for 15 days this august) and we were looking for some news about him.Scotty..because in these days many friends in Matala said us that he was at Heraklion. and we found your blog. Thank you to tell us where Scotty is now and most important that he is in good life. My husband (as many people that had met scotty) has many reminders of his little light on the stick and then of his wheelchair became an "atelier mobile", of his little dog kept in the pouch. we have some photos of him. He went around Matala on his wheelchair talking with the people and laughing. Scotty is the real spirit of Matala. Scotty is always really there. As George said tomorrow never comes.
this is a link of scotty in matala:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3YFo5AZM9QI

Anonymous said...

everybody is talking about scotty, the last hippie of matala. i lived in the 70ties 2 years as a hippie in the caves of matala.
i never met scotty.
and everybody i asked about, does not remember him from that time.
i ask myself, if he tells the truth about his life in matala.
best wishes
elke

Bob (Bobby) said...

Dear Elke,

When you were living in the caves at Matala in the 1970's, it is possible that Scotty was using his real name, which is Hans. Many of those who lived in the caves at Matala in the 1960's and 1970's have related to me that they very distinctly remember Scotty (Hans) living in the caves at Matala and selling hand-made jewelry and some of his painting to the tourists who visited there.

Your Friend,

Bob (Bobby)

Anonymous said...

Hi,
my name is michaela and I lived with scotty from april 1979 until february 1980 near by Irakleion on a pig farm where he was working. We lived there in a cave with electricity but no runnig water or toilets. We used to visit Matala from time to time. When I met Scotty in april 79, he had already stayed 10 years on Crete, travelling and working all over the island like picking oranges near by Chania, loading trucks in Ierapetra and so on and on. During our year together on Crete we also travelled a lot, went from Irakleio to Paleorchora and to the very East, and I can assure you, we met enough greek people to make me believe, that he was really staying on the island since 10 years. As for Matala, I guess, he has been living there from time to time but not as a regular. I think he is too much the lonely wolf type of guy and has always tried to stay as independent as possible and not to mingle too much with all these hippie and tourist crowds.

We left Crete for the Peloponnissos in 1980 and stayed there 2 years. After that, Scottie went back to Crete and finally came to live and stay in Matala as the last Hippie. I went to Matala in Mai 2011 and found out the location of the gerokomeio where he is staying now. I visited him there. He was fine, but of course, the conditions are poor and I worry, if he is still staying there, now with the financial crisis in greece and all the bad stuff that is going on. Unluckily my own financial situation is not so good and I couldnt find the opportunity to go to Crete yet. So, dear Bob, let me ask you, have you been looking for him again? Do you have any news? Please write to:m-k-onlineatgmx.de.
Thanx a lot
With love
Michaela

Anonymous said...

Hi,
my name is michaela and I lived with scotty from april 1979 until february 1980 near by Irakleion on a pig farm where he was working. We lived there in a cave with electricity but no runnig water or toilets. We used to visit Matala from time to time. When I met Scotty in april 79, he had already stayed 10 years on Crete, travelling and working all over the island like picking oranges near by Chania, loading trucks in Ierapetra and so on and on. During our year together on Crete we also travelled a lot, went from Irakleio to Paleorchora and to the very East, and I can assure you, we met enough greek people to make me believe, that he was really staying on the island since 10 years. As for Matala, I guess, he has been living there from time to time but not as a regular. I think he is too much the lonely wolf type of guy and has always tried to stay as independent as possible and not to mingle too much with all these hippie and tourist crowds.

We left Crete for the Peloponnissos in 1980 and stayed there 2 years. After that, Scottie went back to Crete and finally came to live and stay in Matala as the last Hippie. I went to Matala in Mai 2011 and found out the location of the gerokomeio where he is staying now. I visited him there. He was fine, but of course, the conditions are poor and I worry, if he is still staying there, now with the financial crisis in greece and all the bad stuff that is going on. Unluckily my own financial situation is not so good and I couldnt find the opportunity to go to Crete yet. So, dear Bob, let me ask you, have you been looking for him again? Do you have any news? Please write to:m-k-onlineatgmx.de.
Thanx a lot
With love
Michaela

Anonymous said...

Hallo Bob,
Hello Bob,
I know Scotty since 1980, when he lived for some years in the Peloponnese.
In 2009 I met Scotty in Matala.
In the summer I will be in Crete. Can you give me the address of the nursing home , I'd like to visit Skotty there.
Thanks and best regards Wendelin Kessler
w-u.kessler@t-online.de

Anonymous said...

Recent news about Scotty

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10153714061453151&set=a.10150094283033151.286184.788193150&type=3

Its in greek unfortunatelly.
Scotty is in Heraclion Crete, at the "Agia Irini Chrysovalantou" nursery house for older people.

dsdsds said...

Unfortunately Scotty died few days ago !

dsdsds said...

Scotty died at Heraklio nursery....
http://www.cretalive.gr/crete/efyge-o-teleytaios-chipis-ton-matalon

Pilgrim said...

Scotty passed away today November 4, 12016

Αλέξανδρος said...

Scotty has traveled to the neighborhood of angels. He was 76 years young.

Anonymous said...

Unfortunatelly Scotty past away, R.I.P

Dimitris K said...

Sorry to say everybody but Scotty has passed away. Not related to Matala myself, I just visited this blog through a link in the news I read and I thought I should notify those who knew him.
Here is a link from a Cretan news agency announcing his death.

http://www.cretalive.gr/crete/efyge-o-teleytaios-chipis-ton-matalon

Anonymous said...

Hello,

I found your blog-article in an announcement of the death of Scotty, yesterday.

I tought, you´ll find it interesting.

http://www.cretalive.gr/crete/efyge-o-teleytaios-chipis-ton-matalon

Anonymous said...

Sadly, Scotty passed away to hippy eternity on November 5th, 2016, and was buried in Crete, according to Cretalive news website. Thought that all of you who have met him would be interested in knowing.

Angela

Anonymous said...

Hi all,

According to the article below (in greek) Scotty passed away last week:

http://www.cretalive.gr/crete/efyge-o-teleytaios-chipis-ton-matalon


RIP Scotty

Anonymous said...

.

Alexandros said...

Hi all,

According to the article below (in greek) Scotty passed away last week:

http://www.cretalive.gr/crete/efyge-o-teleytaios-chipis-ton-matalon

RIP Scotty

Dimitris said...

Hello all. Unfortunately Scotty has passed away. I found this blog through links about Scotty and I just thought I had to let everyone know about the sad news.

Here are the news from a Cretan news website (in Greek).

http://www.cretalive.gr/crete/efyge-o-teleytaios-chipis-ton-matalon

Anonymous said...

Unfortunately Scotty died

http://www.cretalive.gr/crete/efyge-o-teleytaios-chipis-ton-matalon

Anonymous said...

I just read that Scotty passed away...
http://www.cretalive.gr/crete/efyge-o-teleytaios-chipis-ton-matalon

amphibious said...

I came here via a very circuitous route from the Matala site. Excellent reportage on your visit to Scotty/Hans.
I recall him and his (almost)alter ego 'Happy' - a typically crazy Hollander - who was there for several years before I turned up in 67.
Happy was the pater familia for many of the starry eyed types who overwhelmed the caves in 68 & esp 69 - he damaged his back badly when a newly occupied cave's roof fell in - it dropped between a Canadian couple's double sleeping bag then tilted onto the woman, crushing her pelvis.
I heard many years later that she had survived this and gone on to have children.
For me Matala was a rest point until the snows in Anatolia cleared & I could resume my annual trip to India.
I wasn't especially keen on the newbies but we all have to learn.