Britain is a country where old men say "Happy Birthday" to Joni Mitchell and remember a beach on Crete called Matala where they and she were young

In April 1967 Greece had been taken over by the Junta of Army Generals and in August I was travelling round the Greek islands with my 20 year old student friends, Kenny and Ann when we took a ferry to Crete and a bus to the seaside village of Matala. At the western side of the village beach a number of recesses had been carved out of the rock, it was said by the Minoans, thousands of years before and said the have acted as a convalescent hospital. They were now occupied by itinerant student backpackers like us. I remember that the best cave was occupied a big blond Dane who had been there for some time and could dive into the sea from his door step. I spent one night in a cave, but slept badly in a hard stone recess and the rest of our time there in our tent on the beach.

There were two restaurants on the beach. The one closest to the caves played a scratchy copy of Sergeant Pepper over and over again and was possibly the 'Dolphin Café'. The other was owned by, the always partially shaved, Leon and his wife Maria. Leon was not best pleased when we took an evening meal at the rival restaurant and to placate him I had to promise that, from that point on, we would take all meals with him. This pleased him greatly. He poured the wine and offered me a cigarette. From that point on, the quality of the food declined and on the last evening Leon served "Lamby" and that night Kenny was as sick as a dog which is not surprising since there are no sheep on Crete and we figured it was at best, goat, on our plates.

Three years later, in 1970 Joni Mitchell stayed at Matala, she was 27 years old and was inspired to write her song 'Carey' after 'Cary' or 'Carrot' Raditz, a cane-carrying chef with bright red hair, who she met there during her European Odyssey and referred to the village and Matala's now-defunct 'Dolphin Café' she called 'The Mermaid' Café'.

(LINK)

Now Carey is immortalised by Joni's words and music. Her other words and phrases immortalise her at that point in time : Link

 "My fingernails are filthy, I got beach tar on my feet,                                                       And I miss my clean white linen and my fancy French cologne."

 "Come on down to the Mermaid Cafe and I will buy you a bottle of wine.                         And we'll laugh and toast to nothing and smash our empty glasses down."     

 "But let's not talk about fare-thee-welIs now,                                                                                    The night is a starry dome.                                                                                                   And they're playin' that scratchy rock and roll,                                                      Beneath the Matala Moon."