Today Ringo, never the best traveler, opted out of the Greek island tour and flew back to England to be with his pregnant wife. (Maybe he had seen one too many episodes of Gilligan’s Island.) The others continued on without him. According to George,

It was a great trip. John and I were on acid all the time, sitting on the front of the ship playing ukuleles. Greece was on the left; a big island on the right.

This may have been the apex of The Beatles’ acid-gobbling phase; within a month they would meet the Maharishi and publicly renounce the drug. Paul, for one, was already getting a little tired of it:

We went on the boat and sat around and took acid. It was good fun being with everyone, with nippier moments. For me the pace was a bit wearing. I probably could have done with some straight windows occasionally, I’d have enjoyed it a bit more.

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