Hermann Wolf

From The Flower Raj
Jump to: navigation, search

Max Kalyiam Hermann Joachim Wolf Freiherr von Boden (aka Lupo, born Germany - died c1988, Wales, UK).

Lupo, Llandod, c1985


Born in Germany during WWII, Lupo Wolf travelled overland to India from Germany in the late '60s or early '70s. For some time he was a disciple of Ganesh Baba, probably in Darjeeling, where he cooked & washed for the by now frail Baba, prepared his insulin injections for him & lit his chillums.

In later life Lupo was to establish relationships in Wales & trained and practised as a reflexologist.


  • Does anyone have any more photos, please contact us.


  • Kimo Morrison wrote
"Max Kalyiam Hermann Joachim Wolf fri Herr Vunboden - A.K.A ‘Lupo’ - arrived into my life when I was nine years old. He died shortly after my 17th birthday."
"I first met Lupo at ‘Finnegal’, a remote commune in Scotland. I was 9 and my dad had taken me on holiday - and Finnegal was truly remote. You had to drive across ten miles of forestry track through open heather-moorland to reach it, and there it stood in perpetual fog, a farmhouse surrounded by barns, exposed to the elements, on the edge of the world."
"My first memory of Lupo, as with so many of my memories of Lupo, is of him cooking in Finnegal’s farmhouse kitchen; a short, pot-bellied almost comical figure with a big bushy beard of fiery red and small intelligent eyes, cooking vast amounts of rice and dhal, with which he would feed the other residents."
"Thirty years later, the pungent fragrance of Curry Powder, never fails to invoke Lupo! He’d spent many years wandering in India and his tales of exotic places and people, of strange cultures and customs, impressed themselves indelibly on my childhood mind. He told me how, at the end of each day, he would either throw away or give away everything he had accumulated in that day – money, food – so that he could start each day afresh, without anything, in complete surrender to fate, learning to trust and not be attached. Later he became a follower of Ganesh Baba, and, so the tale goes, became Baba’s cook and ‘carer’."
"Lupo assumed the role of resident cook and cleaner at Finnegal and even at the age of nine I was struck by the way he seemed to ‘serve’ others; how he quietly did what was necessary without asking for acknowledgement. In the freezing early morning mists that frequently surrounded Finnegal, Lupo and I would go and milk the goats; it was the beginning of an important friendship, one that has shaped my life profoundly. I realise now that my experience of Finnegal is Lupo – I cannot recall a single other person, of which there were many."
"Some time after that meeting at Finnegal, Lupo appeared in our garden at Hill House in Wales having hitchhiked from Scotland. The first thing he did was take a chisel to the old gas stove. Slowly, with much patience and hot soapy water, he removed all the ingrained dirt and fatty residues until it suddenly looked brand new! My mother thought he was just wonderful! He instantly entered all our hearts and that was the beginning of Lupo living with us. He came to stay until he died."
"Several years later, during a really difficult time for my family when my mother’s relationship was breaking up and she had to leave, Lupo remained living with us at Hill House providing a vital anchor in my thirteen year old life."
"During this time I learned more of Lupo’s life story. His father had been a senior judge at the Nuremberg War Trials and Lupo had grown up in an educated, cultured, stifling Barvarian household in a devastated post-war Germany. During his National Service - which he hated - he’d gone in as an army cook, and been thrown out and possibly court martialled for baking a hash cake for senior officers. Who knows quite what the truth about that particular story is….but he left Germany to hitch-hike through Europe and ended up in Sardinia, where he fell in love with a local girl, got her pregnant and married her in a what he described as a ‘shot-gun wedding’. This is where he got the name ‘Lupo’ – his surname, Wolf, translated into the Italian for ‘wolf’ – ‘lupo’."
"One night, when we were sitting peeling potatoes at the kitchen table in Wales talking about my history homework, Lupo quietly told me the story of how he had witnessed his wife and one year old child killed in front of him by an out of control truck."
"Only later did I realise that this lovely man, who selflessly picked me up from hockey matches after school and took me to my Saturday piano lesson, who patiently and humorously allowed my twelve year old brother to annoy and tease him to the point of no return – only later did I become aware of the bottle of Jack Daniels that lived next to Lupo’s bed and that he would drink half a bottle in the morning and half a bottle at night. I didn’t really understand until much later in my life, when I too had experienced a few of life’s capricious ways, just how much Lupo had endured and suffered in his life – and what he struggled with. His heart was truly broken on some level, but he was completely loving and accepting of others."
"I left home in the summer before my 17th birthday. Our house in Wales was sold, everyone, including Lupo, went in different directions. Lupo died in the following spring at the age of 36. Four hundred people came to his funeral in Hereford, some from as far a field as America. I don’t think the people who ran the crematorium had ever seen anything like it!"
"To me Lupo walked the walk. There are many people who become infatuated with the idea of spiritual ideas but fail to integrate them into their every day living. Lupo lived his spiritual path in an ordinary every day setting. He lived out a life of devotion, selflessness and service, going where he was needed, even when the people he looked after didn’t realise it – a path of love. This is the example he has shown me, the way I interpret his legacy. All ‘remembering’ is subjective."
"I feel very blessed that Lupo came into my life. He remains one of the great magical ‘teachers’ in my life."
  • Nico Morrison wrote
"How did Lupo & I meet? Like Kimo I think it was at Finnegal, the summer that Adam broke his arm & couldn't join us for six weeks camping touring in Scotland; we visited Neal Orams Grottaig & Ann-Marie & me & Kimo & then Lupo, he attached himself & was such a good easy person to be around."
"In his caravan on Finnegal we drank whisky & smoked & told each other our life stories; we both had had unique experiences & in Lupos case tragedy had struck; or had it?"
"We bonded especially after I was thrown out of Finnegal for drunkenness & Lupo left with us in solidarity; during the next week we visited Neil Orams Grottaig above Loch Ness & as we were not expected & the farmhouse was full, we slept in the stables & in the morning tramped round the yurts & benders & teepees of this empty fen hill land."
"Driving back down to Wales we cooked bacon & eggs & rice on a wood fire in a layby some miles from Llandrindod Wells; & so Lupo came to live at the Hill House & become a friend & mentor & general factotum to the whole household in different & positive ways; an ameliorating force, a smoother of hurts, confidant of children & adults both."
"Later he trained & worked as a reflexologist, the foot man of mid-Wales for the alternative community. I lost touch with him in his last years; he & his wife visited me in Castletownsend & clearly were not happy together. I had some really good times with Lupo; some moving & loving times, some really-out-of-it times; rest in peace."
Personal tools