Found this in the Ibiza Sun.... I hope she finds her true love 
Desperately Searching For Andrew….
Hi Readers I am interested in any info about Andrew Stout. He was a 20 year old English poet who lived in a mill or fort on Formentera with a little black & white dog in winter/spring of 64/65. Often seen at Fonda Pepe's. Andrew Stout was a 20 year old English poet who I met on Formentera in 1965 and fell very much in love with. The problem was that I was married. I was forced to leave him to go back to California in March of 1965 and by the time I had decided that couldn't live without him and returned to Formentera 2 months later, he was gone. Because I was married and felt a sense of duty to my husband I never gave him any way of contacting me. He never told me very much about himself so I know very little about him. I know it sounds strange today but in those days we hippies didn't talk a lot. We just sat around and were COOL. And I guess a bit too stoned to do a lot of talking.
Andrew was at the time a quiet, shy, warm and absolutely brilliant young man, and very English. My last physical contact with him was through a wrought iron partition separating us at Ibiza Airport. He was crying. This vision is seared into my brain. Leaving him in that state was one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do. My feelings for him were a direct consequence of my eventual divorce. I was totally broken-hearted when I returned to Formentera two months later only to find him gone. I waited there for three months hoping he might come back but in the end I resigned myself to the realization that I had lost him. I later travelled here to Denmark where I had friends and have been here since. Andrew had a friend named Steve Arnold and another only known as "Smitty". I'm afraid I can't remember much more. The scene at the time was very laid back on Formentera. Free sex, nude bathing, hippie girls dressed in the cotton slips that local island women normally wore UNDER their many layers of long black dresses. Drugs. The natives must have been horrified. None of us ever took their feelings into consideration. What must they have been thinking? We never gave it a thought at the time. We were young and beautiful!
Now 40 years have gone by. Andrew & I are both over 60 today so I have no illusions. I am a total realist and know that he has gotten on with his life (if he is still alive) but I have never been able to forget him. I would just love to be able to speak to him and get some kind of closure. Just to hear his voice on the phone would be enough. If you have any info, please contact Carol Stief e-mail carol@webspeed.dk or tlf. 4539634959 in Denmark.
Desperately Searching For Andrew….
Hi Readers I am interested in any info about Andrew Stout. He was a 20 year old English poet who lived in a mill or fort on Formentera with a little black & white dog in winter/spring of 64/65. Often seen at Fonda Pepe's. Andrew Stout was a 20 year old English poet who I met on Formentera in 1965 and fell very much in love with. The problem was that I was married. I was forced to leave him to go back to California in March of 1965 and by the time I had decided that couldn't live without him and returned to Formentera 2 months later, he was gone. Because I was married and felt a sense of duty to my husband I never gave him any way of contacting me. He never told me very much about himself so I know very little about him. I know it sounds strange today but in those days we hippies didn't talk a lot. We just sat around and were COOL. And I guess a bit too stoned to do a lot of talking.
Andrew was at the time a quiet, shy, warm and absolutely brilliant young man, and very English. My last physical contact with him was through a wrought iron partition separating us at Ibiza Airport. He was crying. This vision is seared into my brain. Leaving him in that state was one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do. My feelings for him were a direct consequence of my eventual divorce. I was totally broken-hearted when I returned to Formentera two months later only to find him gone. I waited there for three months hoping he might come back but in the end I resigned myself to the realization that I had lost him. I later travelled here to Denmark where I had friends and have been here since. Andrew had a friend named Steve Arnold and another only known as "Smitty". I'm afraid I can't remember much more. The scene at the time was very laid back on Formentera. Free sex, nude bathing, hippie girls dressed in the cotton slips that local island women normally wore UNDER their many layers of long black dresses. Drugs. The natives must have been horrified. None of us ever took their feelings into consideration. What must they have been thinking? We never gave it a thought at the time. We were young and beautiful!
Now 40 years have gone by. Andrew & I are both over 60 today so I have no illusions. I am a total realist and know that he has gotten on with his life (if he is still alive) but I have never been able to forget him. I would just love to be able to speak to him and get some kind of closure. Just to hear his voice on the phone would be enough. If you have any info, please contact Carol Stief e-mail carol@webspeed.dk or tlf. 4539634959 in Denmark.