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Read an exclusive extract from ‘Mr Pikes’

The autobiography of Tony Pike by Matt Trollope

It’s back from the lawyers and there’s still loads left! Here at Pikes we are celebrating the official launch of ‘Mr Pikes’ the autobiography of our founder Tony Pike by Matt Trollope.

The whole book is officially available in paperback and Kindle eBooks from MT-Ink.co.uk and all Amazon sites from Monday October 16th but below is a sneak preview to whet your appetite.

Buy a copy

Or join us today at Pikes for the official launch party.

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Tony arrives in Ibiza, taken from ‘Mr Pikes’ by Matt Trollope

June 1st, 1978

After my 48-hour party send-off in the south of France I travelled to Ibiza with my friend Clemens. We drove to Barcelona, and then the last leg was a rough trip on a ferry in a cabin stinking of fuel, across to the port at Ibiza.
I was on deck watching the men do the ropes. I could see a group of well-wishers waiting on the dock for passengers to arrive.

One man stood head and shoulders above everyone else. I recognised him from a distance. It was Pete Middleton, the friend from Australia who had recommended Ibiza. He was good looking, like Pete Sampras. I ran down to the car and drove off the boat. Thursday June 1st, 1978. I had arrived in Ibiza.

I was driving a Citroen Mehari, a plastic car, like a shit jeep, which had no power. As I drove off the ferry Pete didn’t even open the door, just leapt over the frame and dropped into the seat. “Come on, Pike, I’ll show you the island. Find some Sheilas.” I tried to shrug him off. I was knackered. I just needed a bed. Pete said: “But everyone’s waiting for you. I’ve told them all you’d be coming. I know this island backwards. I know just where to start. Let’s go to Portinatx.”

I drove off and up the winding dust roads, rough and dangerous. Soft on one shoulder, jagged on the other. Barely enough room for two cars to pass each other. A white Seat passed us with two girls in. Instinctively I started blowing the horn. I put my foot down…suddenly we were chasing them. After taking a hair-pin turn too fast, I came off the road. I had two wheels on hard terrain and two on the soft ground. I was struggling to get back on the road. The car in front had stopped and I saw the beautiful girl who was driving watching us.

With all the power the car had, I floored it and got back on to the road. I jumped out and approached the girls.

“What’s your problem?” said the pretty girl, driving.
“I want to take you to dinner. I’m going to change your life,” I said.
“What a line,” she replied. And it was. I didn’t realise at the time that I was speaking the truth. And so life in Ibiza began with Lynn…a gorgeous, horny girl, and proof that English girls can have hot blood.

We went back to her hotel and I took her for dinner. She explained that she was 29 and had been married twice. Her first husband was a childhood romance, the second was a businessman in London. She said their sex life was awful.

We made love that night and she had three or four orgasms. Great sex. It was the start of a really beautiful relationship. I rented a finca in Santa Eulalia and we were having a wonderful time. Her husband found out and sent a private detective to find us. He sued for divorce, naming me as the co-respondent. I didn’t want to be named, but we didn’t have a choice. She was free and we were happy.

We loved each other. Each night we’d drink cocktails and sit in a beautiful setting at the finca. I’d climb the lemon tree and throw some down to Lynn, who’d catch them in her pinny. One day a gruff voice said: “Qué pasa?” It was the owner of the finca. I told him we were renting his house and I was getting some lemons for our drinks. “You have rented the house, not the trees,” he told me.

I also put a deposit down on a penthouse in Santa Eulalia, which was in a new eight-storey building, still being completed. An amazing view from the top. I paid a deposit on the seventh floor too, as it had a sundeck that wrapped around the building on the floor below. While the apartments were being completed I took Lynn back to Australia, and we travelled around the whole country, not just Sydney. I had bought a new Mercedes convertible, an SL190, and I wanted to keep it Down Under, so that it was always available for us when we returned to Australia. On one trip I drove 2,000 miles to Cairns. We had a wonderful time. I introduced Lynn to my friends, us as a couple, and we got to know each other very well. The relationship was blossoming.

When we returned to Ibiza in the Spring of 1979 the apartments in Santa Eulalia still weren’t ready. I was furious, and Lynn was very disappointed. I said: “Don’t worry, darling, something will come up, let’s go for a coffee.”

That’s when I spotted a 500-year-old finca near San Antonio for sale in a tiny real estate office. Price on application. The property was set in a couple of acres and for sale at six million pesetas (around £40,000 back then). We drove up to see it and found an abandoned house, with an original olive mill and flour mill, but no water or electricity. I had a feeling about it, though. I felt the house had an irresistible charm to it, but I wanted to improve the look of it. I could see the potential, not for a hotel but as a fine country-style house for my private life. I still felt full of vitality and ambition, not for money or power but for a new way of living.

The thing that hit me was it was so open. Not a case of, if you sit in this space between 2pm and 4pm you’ll get sun. Sun all the time.  The finca was called Can Pep Toniet, which means ‘the property of little Tony’. When I found out I was flabbergasted.

I paid a deposit.

The finca was just not habitable. It had been used to process the local farmers’ grain and olive crops, but it had not been lived in for 15 years. It was six months before we could  move in. Hard, filthy, dangerous work, having to climb down into the stores and clean out centuries of dust and pollen. Caked in shit, and no water to wash with. Upstairs had flooring, but downstairs was still a dirt floor. Señor José Pratz-e-Pratz was the owner and previously his family had lived in it for centuries, the only family that had ever lived there. There was no toilet so I bought the best toilet seat I could find and fixed it on to a pomegranate tree, and dug a big hole. You could sit and shit on that, looking out at the whole of San Antonio. The tree grew too. Natural fertilizer.

The finca was so basic. The ceiling was decaying. The compressed rock filled with clay was deteriorating into black dust. It was filthy and dangerous. The roof was made from ash, seaweed and soil. There was no electricity, we lived with oil lamps and a gravity-fed water pump for a year.  No electricity meant using an old Singer Treadle sewing machine, and I became quite adept at making curtains and cushions.

We couldn’t get permissions to change things formally so I just started fixing it myself. The government had just installed a big generator on the outskirts of San Antonio, and I was able to tap into it, illegally. Providing electricity, running water and a sufficient drainage system was an enormous challenge. The walls were 70cm thick and built of rock. I had to try and create conduits in the rock so I could run wires and pipes through the whole building, and I did it all myself.

One of the first things I did was buy two pink bougainvillea plants. They came in pots and I tried to place them either side of the main entrance. But Lynn’s mum, who was visiting, said they were root-bound and shouldn’t be in pots. So I smashed the pots and planted one either side of the entrance in the very tough ground we had back then. Nothing happened for two weeks, but then they started to grow…and both sides got a big feeder, so I cut all the smaller feeders, to give all the power to the big ones…and from then on they never stopped…visibly growing daily. The pink bougainvillea leaves which would later cover the main house became synonymous with Pikes. Lynn said it was the only thing she had seen grow quicker than my cock….


The whole book is officially available in paperback and Kindle eBooks from MT-Ink.co.uk and all Amazon sites from Monday October 16th but below is a sneak preview to whet your appetite.

Buy a copy

Credits

Words: Matt Trollope

Images: Team Pikes