Griptight Thynn 1968 Czechoslovakia

The band talked it over and decided that it was such a bonkers idea that we must go. There followed a series of further letters with more detail including the fees we would be paid. It sounded a lot but what did we know? We were so naïve; we knew absolutely nothing about Czechoslovakia, we weren’t even aware that any money we earned in the country was unconvertible and utterly useless outside Czechoslovakia.

Meticulous planning started. This amounted to the purchase of an AA road map of Europe! Oh, and Duncan our bass player and the only member of the band with a job, arranged to take two weeks’ unpaid holiday. We also had to pay £15 (a sum equal to three weeks’ wages at the time) for a Carnet from the Chamber of Commerce, without which we wouldn’t have got through any border customs. That was the extent of our preparations.

In the summer of 1968 Griptight Thynn played several times at the Old Granary, Bristol, England. The band consisted of yours truly and James (Crun) Walter on guitars, Dave Fortune on drums, and Duncan Graham on bass. We were a typical 12 bar blues band of which there were many at the time. We were pretty good though and we had the beginnings of a reputation on the Bristol scene.

After one particular gig in April a Czech student whose name I think was Petr approached me at the bar and, after telling me in halting English how much he enjoyed the band, invited us to come and play some concerts in Czechoslovakia. The idea seemed very unlikely, but never one to turn down a gig, I said yes and gave him my address and phone number.

I had completely forgotten about the conversation when a few weeks later a letter arrived with a list of four or five August concerts at colleges and universities in Czech towns with no vowels in their names. Sadly I never kept that letter or any of the others that followed it – they would be interesting historical documents, and fascinating to read again now.

We intended to undertake this mammoth journey in a ropey old Thames van driven by our roadie Bob Charlton (no relation), and another chap we barely knew but we called Hopscotch Jock for some reason now forgotten. There were only three seats in the van so three of us would be required to sit on top of the amplifiers – for an estimated round trip of over two thousand miles! Yes, you read that right – that’s two thousand miles sitting on top of some amplifiers! Oh the innocence of youth!

Towards the end of July we thought it might be beneficial to do some financial planning and it was calculated that we had roughly £15 pounds between us. We took some expert advice about driving on the continent: Bob asked his mate who was a lorry driver about the cost of petrol in Germany. He said he hoped £15 would be enough to get us there. He hoped?! We wouldn’t be able to afford to eat on the journey so it would be best to take some sandwiches! (It seems that every sentence I write needs to end with an exclamation mark.)

August arrived. We had got wind of unrest in Prague and across Czechoslovakia. There had been violent demonstrations in universities and people were naturally apprehensive. A couple of days before we were due to leave I got a telegram from Petr. I don’t recall the exact wording although I know I should have remembered every detail.

It said something like: please don’t come stop, much trouble here stop, pray for us stop.

We were shocked by this news but not altogether surprised after what we’d been seeing on the BBC. We had no conception of what might be happening there and to my shame we thought more about how to explain the cancellation of the trip to our mates. We pondered our next move.

We had been prepared to go on a long journey into the unknown, so we decided we would drive to Cornwall. Maybe we could get some gigs there.

The night before we were due to depart for Cornwall someone pissed in our petrol tank. There seemed to be no end to our tribulations: first the bloody Russians invade and now to top it all someone’s pissed in our petrol tank! If it wasn’t for bad luck we’d have no luck at all, as that great blues song goes. It cost us £6 to have the petrol tank flushed. We had planned to leave Bristol bright and early but this costly delay meant it was 9 pm before we finally got on the road. We’d gone as far as Weston Super Mare (approx 23 miles) when we decided it would be sensible to stop for a beer before the pubs closed.

By the time we got to Looe the next day we were already exhausted. We slept on the beach all day and spent all our remaining cash in a pub that evening. We met some freaks who showed us a semi-derelict barn where they were sleeping and where we spent the next few nights. The next day we asked at every pub and venue in Looe if we could set up and play. No-one wanted us. During the next few days drove around all the neighbouring towns and villages and asked everywhere if we could play, even offering to play for free. No-one wanted us. After about a week of this we were ravenous. Our search for work had taken us as far as Bodmin by now. where we managed to persuade the manager of Bodmin Gaol club to let us perform. We were paid not in cash but by chicken in a basket - one serving each.

Despite all this we managed somehow to enjoy ourselves. We returned to Bristol after two weeks because we had a gig booked at the Old Granary. The DJ Al Read introduced us by saying; here they are, back from their triumphant tour of Czechoslovakia, ladies and gentlemen Griptight Thynn!

I realise that many people suffered as a result of the 1968 invasion of Czechoslovakia, so please excuse the rather light-hearted tone of this article. If we’d have left couple of days earlier we would have been caught up in the mayhem and this would be a different story.