There seems to have been a never-ending stream of 50th anniversaries this year, all of which have contributed to me feeling increasingly wrinkly.
A lot went on in 1969 -- Moon landing, Woodstock, Chappaquiddick, Richard Nixon in the White House and the Manson Family murder of Sharon Tate. Then there were the movies, Easy Rider, Midnight Cowboy, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.
Now that's not a bad line-up.
The music wasn't bad either -- Space Oddity (David Bowie), Honky Tonk Women (Rolling Stones), Proud Mary (Creedence Clearwater Revival).
And then there were the Beatles.
This weekend marks the 50th anniversary since the release of Abbey Road. It was the last album the Beatles recorded but released before Let it Be which was having a few problems.
In addition to the iconic cover, Abbey Road is one of the most accomplished Beatles albums.
I had been in Thailand just six months when it came out and recall first hearing Something, on a Bangkok FM radio station, while living in a little wooden house on Sukhumvit Soi 1, right next to Khlong Saen Saeb.
That station was my main source of Western music at that time and the 700 baht transistor radio my most prized possession. It's hard to believe that was 50 years ago.
Something has since been recorded by just about everyone -- more than 150 versions in all -- many a bit on the bland side.
But the original, written and sung by George Harrison, still sends a little shiver down my spine. John Lennon reckoned it was the best song on the album, which is good enough for me. Harrison's Here Comes the Sun, written in Eric Clapton's back garden, was another gem and the ultimate feel-good song.
End of the road
I've just played the album and most of it still sounds great to my ancient ears, although admittedly I did fast forward at Maxwell's Silver Hammer and Octopus's Garden. John Lennon hated Maxwell, which was Paul McCartney's creation, calling it "granny music" and refused to play on it.
The final medley, which goes on for a full 17 minutes, is quite extraordinary, starting with the plaintive You Never Give Me Your Money and ending appropriately enough with The End, the last song on which all the Beatles played together.
"And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make" were to be the final words sung by the Beatles.
Mystery tour
The Beatles have been responsible for many travellers getting lost in England over the years. According to police, more than a dozen tourists every day turn up in London at the Docklands Light Railway station called Abbey Road, mistakenly thinking it is the same place as the cover on the album.
The real Abbey Road is in St John's Wood, about 15 kilometres to the west of the docks.
This still doesn't deter tourists from trying to recreate the Beatles' memorable cover by posing on the much less impressive pedestrian crossing outside the docklands station.
London Transport even put up posters at the station explaining to fans that they are in the wrong place.
The misguided mystery tour doesn't end in the docklands, however. According to the staff at Liverpool Street railway station, which despite its name is in central London, tourists regularly show up asking for walking directions to John Lennon's house, Penny Lane and Strawberry Fields, just a matter of about 370km up the road.
Turkish delight
My favourite tale of travelling misadventures features a female Japanese tourist, Kumiko Tsuschida, who was in London and wanted to get to Turkey.
Her English wasn't too hot, but at least she knew how to say "Turkey". After meeting some helpful Londoners at Waterloo station they got her tickets and put her on the train which would take her to the correct destination.
She duly took a seat and waited in anticipation for her arrival in Istanbul. After a long journey, the train inspector informed Ms Kumiko she had reached her destination.
What she didn't know was that she had arrived at the Devon resort of Torquay, which to English ears sounds horribly like Turkey.
Unaware she was not in Turkey, she set off looking for her Istanbul hotel. She began to have some suspicions when nobody would accept her Turkish banknotes. Eventually, she was picked up by police who spotted this forlorn figure traipsing the streets still clutching her suitcase.
Ms Kumiko later explained: "I thought it was a long ride to the airport, but when I asked people 'Turkey?', 'Turkey?' they told me I was on the right train."
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