Following their initial meeting with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi on 24 August 1967, The Beatles, along with Cynthia Lennon, Pattie Harrison, her sister Jenny, Alexis Mardas, Mick Jagger and Marianne Faithfull, travelled to Bangor on 25 August 1967, to embark upon a 10-day conference on Transcendental Meditation.
The Beatles were to travel on the same train as Maharishi and his party. The resulting press scrum meant that their departure was anything but smooth, however.
The Fab Four arrived at London’s Euston Station late in the afternoon and were caught up in a large crowd, made worse by the fact that it was the Friday before the UK’s late-summer Bank holiday weekend. They were left to carry their own luggage due to the absence of their assistants and were mobbed on their way to the station platform.
John’s wife Cynthia became separated from the group and, mistaken for a fan, was then held back by police officers and missed the train.
Cynthia later said: “It was a bright, sunny morning when we set off. I was ready early, but Pattie, George, and Ringo were coming in our car, and were late.
“By the time Anthony drew up at the station entrance we were cutting it fine and had five minutes to catch the train. John leapt out of the car with the others and ran for the platform – leaving me to follow with our bags.
“It was the result of years in which he’d taken it for granted that others would see to all the details. I followed him as fast as I could. The station was mayhem, with fans, reporters, police and passengers all milling around. I struggled to push my way through, but when I got to the platform my way was barred by a huge policeman who, unaware that I was with the Beatles party, said, ‘Sorry, love, too late, the train’s going,’ and pushed me aside.
“I shouted for someone to help. John poked his head out of the train window, saw what was happening and yelled, ‘Tell him you’re with us! Tell him to let you on.’
“It was too late. The train was already pulling away from the platform and I was left standing with our bags, tears pouring down my cheeks. It was horribly embarrassing. Reporters were crowding around me, flashbulbs were popping and I felt a complete fool. Peter Brown, Brian’s assistant, had come to see us off: he put his arm around me and said he’d take me to Bangor by car. ‘We’ll probably get there before the train,’ he assured me, anxious to cheer me up.
“But what neither he nor anyone else knew was that my tears were not simply about the missed train. I was crying because the incident seemed symbolic of what was happening to my marriage. John was on the train, speeding into the future, and I was left behind.”
