Auroville - The Last Part of Our India Adventure...

In fear of repeating what I've said or at least part of it from www.mywifeslump.blogspot.com I'll just give a brief summary of what I've been up to, rather than the roller coaster of emotions that I'm currently experiencing.... That's all on the other blog.

I was surprised how easily I found Nilitangham again.  It's a little tucked away amidst the forest area, set in a few acres of beautiful tree filled gardens.  Dusty orange paths weave their way from hobbit house to solar house, to the kitchen then up to Ambre's house.  Ambre is the lady that runs this little venture.

The first night I pitched my tent under a tree, waiting for one of the hobbit houses to become available.  I adorned the inside of my mesh only tent with my pictures of Amanda and her beautiful red and gold silk scarf from Cambodia.  She wore it everywhere she went.... well almost.

I walked around the beautiful paths reminiscing.  I watched the butterflies and birds flit from tree to tree and flower to flower.  The air was filled with the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze and the lilt a constant variety of bird song.  Truly wonderful.  There was of course only one thing missing for me.

I moved into the hobbit house the next day.  I kept the mesh lining of my tent up, deciding to sleep under it to keep the mosquitos at bay.  It's just like sleeping under a very posh mosquito net..... Which I could do with now, as I have five fresh mozzie bites from the last 10 minutes as I sit here in the garden typing.

Hobbit House by Night.

A quick reminder of what Auroville is all about.  It was a community set up during the late 60's or possibly early 70's..... It was to be a multi racial multi cultural land, with no common religion and no prejudice toward others.  The mix of cultures and nationalities is impressive, with the Indian nationality coming in at 50% of the 2,000 inhabitants and the French coming in next with 15%, the remaining 35% is a mix mash from the rest of the world.  They built various homes from renewable and sustainable products, they planted trees to provide cover and water retention.  They farmed the land.  They hoped it would all work on a bartering system, but modern day living has made this system difficult.  In fact it hasn't worked.  Monies earned are meant to go to the Auroville Fund (something like that) and people receive a sort of weekly or monthly payment.  A type of Auro-pension or Auro-benefit system.  The Auroville concept is a great idea, and to a point it works.  Financially I don't believe it does though, having spoke with many locals.  To move here money is needed.  You must be able to fund the building of a home, or the purchase of an existing home if and when one becomes available.  Then any newcomers would also need enough cash to support themselves, until they found a way of generating an income.  It all sounds a bit contradictory and complicated.  Auroillians use a plastic Auro-card to pay for groceries and dining out.  A visit to the town hall and an exchange of cash sees credit added to your account, in addition to what is received monthly.
The Matrimandir is the large golden disc covered ball you see in the images and the short clip.  It's an incredible structure, and the gold is in fact real gold leaf.  The interior is incredible.  No cameras permitted, so there is only the image I hijacked form the internet and uploaded to www.wherearetheboyds.blogspot.com during January 2012.

The reason I came back to Auroville, was because I was drawn here.  It was the last place that Amanda and I were just Amanda and I.... It was the last part of our travelling adventure together.  The memories and energy is strong.... They aren't easy memories by any stretch of the imagination, but many are truly beautiful.

I've practiced yoga every morning.  I've meditated daily.  I've visited the Matrimandir (which I was planning an overnight photography assault on, just to capture the Golden Ball under the cloak of the outer universe) and the various places we ate.

Ladies carving the soap blocks...

Yesterday I headed to the Bamboo Centre, where Amanda and I planned to start importing the organic charcoal soaps.  I met Balu, who I'd only chatted to via email.  His warm smile and big hug were very welcome.  He had read of Amanda's passing,  As he embraced me he said amidst the moving on of Amanda our story was one of great love and inspriation.  It was truly beautiful.  I fought back the tears.  We talked bamboo and what he was doing.  How he was trying to expand so they could continue funding the local school which lectures 170 children.  Balu is a gently, warm man.  He will do well.  I hope to sell more soaps to help their business develop.  They are still listed on eBay, and in August I hope to approach small pharmacies.  They produce beautiful furniture and fabric from the bamboo too.  It's an incredibly versatile material.  The bamboo scarves are 90% bamboo fibre with 10% cotton.  The material is soft and supple, it's surprising to think it comes from the largest grass in the world.

I'll spend another couple of days here in Auroville.  Then I'll go meet Anna Louisa in Pondicherry before heading to Tiruvannamalai.  Here I hope to stay in the ashram, Amanda loved it here.  I will immerse myself in meditation for a day or two before heading to Gokarna.... or up to Pune then back down to Gokarna.

Varkala to Auroville

Video Clip at the bottom of the page!

Nothing saucy just some snippets of the journey....

A taste of Indian travel some might say.

So Varkala turned out to be an nice 'breaking in' few days for my travels. Only Debra and a couple from the US managed to witness a full wash of tears about Amanda. Mark & Maria were lucky enough to only suffer choking and welling up. Amongst this sadness there was also plenty of smiles and laughter. The stay at Kaiya Guesthouse was just lovely.

As I mentioned on the earlier post I wanted to head to Auroville to reminisce.....

This journey would involve a local bus from Varkala (time unknown) to Trivandrum, then from Trivandrum to Villapurnam on a 13 hour train journey leaving at 4.30pm.... Then another bus journey from Villapurnam to Pondicherry, then finally a motorcycle ride from Pondi' to Autoville.

I did my misty eyed hugs and goodbyes at Kaiya Guesthouse and headed down the road to wait for the bus.... As I came down the steps a bus was heading around the corner to the stop. A wobbly backpack front and back run ensued. A rickshaw driver (the little loud three wheelers, known as tuk-tuks in South East Asia) spotted me and pointed to the bus. He kindly hindered it's departure and I was on. Great timing, smashing start! After 2 hours (on an anticipated 1 hour bus ride) sat on the air conditioned bus watching India go by, I arrived at Trivandrum. A sweaty 10 minute walk and I was at the train station. It was only 2.15pm so I decided to eat. I wandered in to a local eatery and was served a tali. This is a selection of various bits and pieces served in little silver finger bowls along side a generous never ending portion of rice. It was good.

The train arrived on time. My name wasn't on the list which is attached to the carriages, and as my ticket was listed as WL1 (Waiting List 1) a few days before I had hoped to see it on the list of passengers. I got on regardless. A few minutes later the conductor got on. Found my name on the Waiting List and everything was sorted. There would only be a couple of hours of light to appreciate the scenery, so that's what I did. Once darkness blanked the India countryside I set up my bed and relaxed. I set my alarm for 5am so as not to miss my 5.15am stop in Villapurnam.

My alarm rudely awakened me, we were stopped! Panic! I grabbed all my bits stuffing them in to the bag, then spent a minute trying to undo the cable lock on the big backpack. I ran to the door. I had to wake a local man sleeping across the door. Villapurnam I asked, another getting off said 'Villapurnam 4.30am' What??!! I thought.... I said it again 'Villapurnam' as if that would change his original answer it didn't. I continued to say it in my sleepy haze..... Did this mean I'd missed my stop having set my alarm for 5am, was I now on my way to Chennai? Bloody hell! I took my phone out of my pocket to check the time. It read 2am! What had happened? A wave of relief washed over me, it was no where near my time to get off. I returned to my berth, reset my alarm for 4.20am in case this other guy was correct on the arrival time, and drifted back to sleep.

When we pulled in to the station I'd been sat awake for an hour. I asked a local man in his fifties was there anywhere I could get a bus from Villapurnam to Pondicherry. He invited me to join him and his friend who were headed in that direction. They stopped at a chai stand (tea) where he bought me a little paper cup filled with sweet masala chai. How very kind I thought. I'd offered to pay for the three chais but he wouldn't have it. I followed them for 10 minutes out on to the street. It was dark dirty and noisy. The time was approaching 5.40am, and after much effort from my new guides and carers we were climbing on board a packed local bus to Pondicherry. I turned to pay for my ticket, and the gentleman wobbled his head from side, smiling and waving his hand slightly at the same time. He had paid for my bus ticket. I tried to pass money back to him but he fervently refused. Another act of great kindness to someone he had only just met. This sort of behaviour is a great lesson to us all. By 7am we were in Pondicherry bus station. I got chatting to lovely lady who had travelled from the Himalayas down to Pondicherry for India 'Cold Period'. She was participating in a Sanscrit (ancient language) week long course here in town. I helped her with her bags then returned to retrieve mine before the bus driver headed off on his return journey. Anna Louisa was from Minnesota in the US. She said she knew a lovely place to get breakfast and asked would I like to join her. 'I would be delighted to. You be my guide I'll be your porter' I suggested as I wheeled her large suitcase and duffle bag, whilst loaded with my front and backpacks.

After a short rickshaw journey we arrived at our destination. We chatted over a delicious Indian rice dish called Pongal. It was recommended by Anna-Louisa, and as she seemed to have far more knowledge then me I ordered the same as her.

Before you all get to thinking, wow Mark has met himself a lovely lady so soon..... and it's true Anna-Louisa is a lovely woman, I explained why I was travelling and about the love Amanda and I shared, and the love I still feel for her and will always feel for her. Anna-Louisa was a healer, and she spoke very wisely with regards to life and the universe. It was a joy to listen to her. This is a lady full of positive energy and courage.... She had me laughing with some of her comical tales and thinking deeply about the wisdom she shared. Anna-Louisa sat quietly at the times I became very emotional, just waiting for me to 'get myself together'. She didn't need to say anything, and she knew it.

Now I've said all that I can share with you that the lovely Anna-Louisa is 73 years of age. What a trooper. She lived in Costa Rica for 7 years and then headed to Northern India on her own to spend time in the foothills of the Himalayas. She is constantly learning, and constantly giving. We spent 2 hours chatting over breakfast and it was an absolute joy. We exchanged email addresses, and I intend to meet up with her again before leaving Auroville/Pondicherry.

Yet again, within just a couple of hours of having met this generous local Indian man, I then meet another truly wonderful human being with such a lust for life, learning and everything else that is Anna-Louisa a woman who is definitely holds many great lessons that we could all learn from.

After saying goodbye to Anna-Louisa I headed to find my motorcycle shop. After over an hour of walking around Pondi not really knowing where I was, I found somewhere I recognised.... I was very hot and very sweaty. It was now 10.15am and the temperature was touching thirty degrees. I found my shop and the lovely man that ran it. After a brief chat he remembered me from last year. The story of the man and lady that were having to leave Auroville early as she was unwell. We spoke about back pains and disc problems back then... .Little did we know. He talked about losing his parents, brothers and sisters over the years.... He related it to my situation with Amanda having been so young. He continued to speak, and tears trickled down his cheeks. What an amazing show of empathy. I showed him the pictures I carry in my wallet. Another lovely soul.

Five minutes later I was on my way Auroville, weaving in and out of other motorcycle users, rickshaws, buses, cars and cows!

I won't be able to re-read this and edit it. As my battery power is running out, and I forgot to bring an adapter for 3 pin plugs.... Something I must invest in tomorrow!

Hope it reads OK.

Bye for now.

Kerala Backwaters.....

Yesterday I headed out on a guided Backwaters trip with Mark and Maria on an old wooden boat.... You know Mark?  Mark Lloyd (sounds like Mark Boyd) (Born April 13th, I'm April 11th, he is 37 I am 38) (Mark worked in the financial sector for 16 years before looking for something else.  I did the same) (both think we are funny).  So strange to meet someone with so many similar attributes and working history.

We enjoyed a cracking afternoon.  Our local young guide had a cheeky sense of humour, having developed his well worked wooden canoe stand-up act over many years of guiding, this is also where he learned his English.  Which was absolutely superb.

He was extremely quiet at first, due to a repremanding from Deborah the day before.  Our young guide had managed to upset a lovely American couple the day before with his sharp sense of humour.  He was upset to hear he had offended them.  I think things sometimes get lost in translation between India and the west.  Crossed wires and misunderstandings.... It's definitely nicer to think along those lines anyway.  I'm pretty sure he wasn't intending to be offensive listening to his explanation later in the day.

Natural Leaf Print Tattoo.... Just slap it on.

Mark gets one slapped on.

As we started our paddle, it was 3pm in the afternoon, the rays of sunlight where broken by the overhanging branches and leaves casting a dappled light over the water.  Our guide pulled to the side here and there to show us cloves, pepper plants and a variety of fruits.  He pointed out a snake and numerous beautifully coloured kingfishers.

Backwater Traffic.

Reflections.

Duck.... Or lose your head!

After an hour or so he pulled up to the side to take us for a little jaunt on foot.
He showed us more fruits and herbs, along with a seed pod that he sucked briefly.  We stood for a minute or so watching it as he held it in his fingers. I commented that we were expecting something impressive like it bursting in to flames, then suddenly the little bugger exploded!  Not the guide, that would have been spectacular too, but then we would have had to find our way out of the Backwaters and explain to his parents that their son had spontaneously exploded after sucking a seed pod.  The exploding seed pod was very impressive.  He quickly found another and passed it to me... I sucked it, he told me to make sure it was wet, keep sucking, 'Are you trying to get this to explode in my.... CRACK!'  I guess that's exactly what he was trying to do.  The little seed pod popped in my mouth like a large piece of popping candy, we all laughed like they do at the end of a Scooby Doo episode.  Very funny indeed!  He was very proud of himself.

He then took us to a cashew nut processing plant.... That sounds very commercial doesn't it?  Images of big factories and massive machinery..... Well it wasn't.  The nuts are initially heated in a large metal canister which rotates on a manually turned spindle.  Heat is generated by fire. After the initial in shell roasting was lots of ladies sitting by bowls get to shelling the poisonous outer casing of the cashew nuts, after shelling the nuts are gently roasted again.

Cashews in their toxic shells....

The Roaster.

Shelling.

The final product.

On our way back, our young guide showed us his climbing skills, scampering his way up a coconut palm.
He shimmied down and set me the challenge..... I slipped off my flip flops and got to it  I was pleased with half way  Where upon our little friend enjoyed trying to lift me down from the tree by using his bamboo punt, by almost lodging it firmly where the sun don't shine!

Look closely, you can just spot him!

It may look as though he impaled me and just lifted me up there through the power of my sphincter muscles, but I did actually climb!

Guide - Pleased!

We returned to our little boat as the sun lowered in the sky.  Our lovely boat trip came to an end an hour later.  We walked with our guide to his family home where his mother had spent 3 hours preparing and cooking a fantastic range of local dishes, all served to us on a large banana leaves.  The food was a delight.

Mark & Maria.

New Friends.

I spent the next morning capturing interior shots of the beautifully kept Kaiya house, which is the guesthouse I've been residing in whilst staying in Varkala.  The house is decorated with a variety of carvings and beautiful artwork throughout it's clean white interior.  The rooftop is a wonderful space for yoga, meditation or simply socialising with other guests.  Deborah the laid back yet very attentive owner of the guesthouse has been very kind during my stay, very empathetic and understanding of my emotional position.  Later in the day I headed out walking 45 minutes to get to a point for a few coastal shots.  It didn't pan out how I wanted, although it could have had I brought another battery along with me!

I walked back to Kerala Cafe, where I met Tony and Christine, a lovely couple from England and Mark & Maria again.  We were dining together, it was to be our last night together as we were all heading off to our next destinations.  Tony & Christine insisted on paying for dinner which was very kind of them, they would not take no for an answer, such lovely folks.  We even indulged ourselves in a couple of bottles of beer and two cocktails each, which will be my last alcohol for some weeks to come.

I've decided to head back to Auroville.  It's going to take about 16 hours all in all. A bus ride from here to Trivandrum followed by a 13 hour train trip from Trivandrum on the west coast to Varkalum close to Pondicherry on the east coast.  From here I'll take the short trip to Auroville, the last place Amanda and I spent together in India before beginning our journey home.  I was hoping to stay in the same place Nilitangham, in the green belt of Auroville.  I hope to sit, to reminisce, to daydream about my love.  But sadly our little hobbit house is booked for the week.  So I'm thinking of camping on the grounds of Nilitangham where the little hobbit house along with three other properties reside in beautiful gardens.
It's a long way to go..... But I just feel I need to head there even if it's just for a few days. Auroville has a special feel about it.  It will be another place I can feel close to Amanda.

Love to you all.

Varkala....

After almost 4 nights without sleep I finally managed did it!  6 hours of uninterrupted unconsciousness.  Joy of joys!
Yesterday morning we did our 7km group walk from our village along the coast, finishing where the fishermen beach their boats.  Early morning is a perfect time for walking, running, meditating.... anything in fact.  The temperature is beautifully warm.  By 9am things are beginning to get hot, with early afternoon knocking on mid thirties.  The coast line here in Varkala is similar to that of Goa and much of the south west region of India.  Long sandy palm fringed beaches interrupted by small jagged rocky outcrops.  Then as small tourist towns and villages kiss the coast, dapplings of cafes and restaurants line the beaches.  The fishing villages continue to operate from the shoreline where local fisherman repair their nets in the evenings in preparation for hanging them out to sea at dawn the next day.

Early evening we attended a small Indian festival.  The participants were adorned with intricately painted faces that in many cases take up to 12 hours preparation.  There were other with masks and bright coloured costumes, whilst liberally decorated floats were pulled by slightly bored looking

The Journey Begins.... Skies & Lows.

On the run up to the travels beginning I felt a lump of anxiety sitting deep in my throat,this was combined with an intense sadness associated with feeling a if I was leaving Amanda behind..... Which was strange considering she was as near to a 'gypsy' lady as you could get without her officially gaining the title. I wept a lot those few days before leaving, and then when it came to say good bye to my Mum & Dad who've supported me over the past 5 months, well I was literally gushing. I love them both so much, and all the friends who've helped me along the way.

I met one of my very best buddies, Stu in London, between my Gatwick arrival and Heathrow departure. Time was tight, we took turns to have a quick squizz at the National Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition at the Natural History Museum as I had a ticket, but the exhibition was sold out. We also wanted to catch up over a cold beer for an hour in the nearest pub, before I had to grab my train to Heathrow. It was a lovely send off as was the one the night before with two of my other best pals Kevin and Steven (my brother).

The flight from the Isle of Man was a strange one. There was a little turbulence and shaking around as we came in, which normally puts the fear of God in to me, but now suffering no real fear of death everything seemed fine. So I was never scared of flying at all! In the same way that folks who are scared of heights aren't really scared of the height, rather the plunge of death associated with the fall from such an elevated position. As the plane bobbed and shuddered I did have a full mental dialogue with Amanda. I imagined her sitting opposite me gently calming me down. It worked a treat, Amanda was still able to work her magic in a spiritual sense.

The flight to India went well, pleasingly more heavy turbulence went by almost unnoticed. I was sat by a very pretty Sri Lankan girl who had been studying law in Southampton. She chatted about her family and Sri Lanka. I couldn't quite get over the size of her hands. They seemed vast, really long, but incredibly elegant at the same time....Perfect hands and fingers for doing some of the Indian twirly curly finger dancing.... There is a name for it.... Pardon my ignorance.

She managed to sleep much of the overnight flight. Whereas I meditated, I didn't really sleep at all Sri Lankan Airways had no brand new movies, the little screens were a bit sketchy to say the least and the films started when they started.... So I missed the beginning of the first one and left it at that. I felt too exhausted to read due to a distinct lack of sleep the previous two nights. Anxiety riddled hours of darkness. The plane landed in Sri Lanka, I got off and went straight across to the transfer flight to Cochin. Perfect.

ISLE OF WHERE???

On reaching the line of immigration points at Cochin airport my passport wouldn't scan, plus the guy couldn't find Isle of Man on his settings.... More and more staff collected around his little station... and as all the other passengers had now passed through, it was just me and 9 immigration officials.... After almost 20 minutes at the desk with the full team from Cochin Immigration they eventually put me through as a Independent British National.

I sat on the pavement outside beside a bus I hoped was going to Aluva. In the airport the lady told me it was 1000 rupees (a tenner) but it was actually 60 pence. I think she may have worked for one of the private bus firms. On the pavement I chatted with a 50 something Swiss woman who was heading to the Kerala Backwaters. We had both been sitting on the bus waiting, but the heat was stifling. At least outside it was only a mere 35 degrees celcius! We chatted. She was very nice. She wished me luck on my journey as the bus conductor pointed which street I needed to walk along to get to Aluva town centre.

I'd decided to get my train from Aluva, not because it sounds like 'I love her', although I did like the fact that it sounded like that, but because there was a 9.30am train the next morning..... It was a 1km walk from where I was dropped. Nothing in 35 degrees celcius with a backpack on front and one on the back, along with 3 bottles of read and a heavy quarterly magazine for the lady in Varkala. The first hotel I reached was near the train station. It was at the high end of the market for a non tourist venue at £12.00. I knew I could find a single Non AC room for about £3.00 so headed on in to town in search of somewhere cheap and cheerful to lay my head. It was about 4pm.....

It's 6pm now. I've just returned to the original 'high end' hotel after a horrible couple of hours of trudging around all the 'Tourist Guesthouses' of Aluva. By the fourth time I heard, 'No rooms, full house, try so and so down the road' I got the feeling they didn't want me staying in their bloody tatty guesthouses. By the eighth I was finally informed that the local Tourist Guesthouses are not meant to accommodate 'Foreigners'. What a lovely warm and racist welcome for my first night in India. They guy in the last guesthouse told me that only the posher Hotel by the train station would accommodate me. A very frustrating hour or so spent sweating around the dusty roads of Aluva. I was able to literally wring the sweat from my T-shirt when I arrived at my not so swanky hotel room. I have since washed it in the bucket.... a bucket that was actually there for washing myself in. No showers at this high end establishment.... Or internet for that matter.... So you'll be reading this a day or two late..

So here I am, one night's accommodation for the price of five! Broken the budget on my first day Ha ha! Amanda will be looking down and chuckling.

A night of blood sucking beasts....

I woke up and took a look at my mobile phone to check the time. I was so shattered I'd fallen asleep around 8.30pm, it was now almost 6am, so I decided having been well rested I'd pack my things up ahead of breakfast and the train. The last hour had been spent tossing around due to mosquito bites.... Had it not been morning I'd have pitched my tent to avoid the disease spreading beasties.

I took a bucket shower and packed everything away, including my photo's of Amanda. Aluva but Adon'tluv Aluva.... If that makes sense!

I decided to meditate for a bit but the mozzies just kept coming at me. I was covered in bites. Both arms the backs of my neck and shoulders and my feet and ankles.... Everywhere that had peeped out from under the white cotton sheet had been gorged upon. Seven tiny dead bodies were strewn around my cross legged form. It was almost 7am and there was no sign of light. How strange. I turned on the TV to find out it was only 1.30am.... I didn't believe it... I found four channels with 1.30am.... Good Lord, it was going to be a very long night indeed. My phone had reset to an unknown time zone..... I was done with the mozzies so I unpacked the inside mesh of my tent, clipped the poles together and threw it on the bed. 100% mozzie proofing and my first night camping.... in my hotel room.

Insect protection....

I managed about 2 hours sleep then had a lovely Masala Dosa for breakfast at the real 8am. A masala dosa is a type of crispy fried crepe with curried potato and vegetables. It was delicious. I loaded up my bags feeling a little down in the dumps as last night and this morning I was already thinking about heading home.... It was a rough start, and without my little darling wife to lift the mood, to bounce off, as we did when one of us got low, it was proving to be very taxing. Being turned away by so many people was tough emotionally, but that's just the state I'm in at the moment. I knew it would eventually pass.

As I sat waiting at the train station I prayed for a smooth and uneventful journey and that Varkala held some joy and peace.

The Train Station:

As I unfolded my paper ticket, printed from home a few days ago. I noticed WL printed in each corner. How had I not noticed this before. WL stands for waiting list. This meant I didn't actually have a ticket even though I'd paid my £3.00 for my 4 hour trip. Great value if you get on. I had no intentions of not getting on the train. It was an hour late.... I got on, found myself a seat in the sleeper cabin and made myself comfortable. For some reason the conductor walked past me on many occasions and never even asked me for a ticket. Every one else around me produced theirs. Once again I was almost invisible. But this time it was actually beneficial.

I chatted to a local guy for the last half hour. He was very pleasant, telling about his work with the local banks.

The train pulled into Varkala an hour late, as expected.

I shared a cab with two Spanish travellers and arrived at Kaiya house five minutes later.

Debra introduced herself pleased to be receiving her duty free booty of red wine and World of Interiors magazine. She ran through the house rules, then took the three newbies on an hour walkabout of Varkala and The Cliffs. Shortly after arriving I bumped into a chap called Mark, an Aussie (originally from Bolton UK), we laughed at how easy it would be to remember one anothers names. Yes that's right, we are both easily amused, which means we should get on just fine. We got chatting. He worked in finance (banking) for 16 years and was now getting out after being made redundant. I had worked in investments and insurance for 16 years too. We had worryingly similar senses of humour, Mark told me he was thirty eight, next birthday, same age as me now. I said I suppose you were born in April too. He laughed. 'What date?' he enquired. 11^th I responded. He was born on the 13^th . The ice had been well and truly broken. Mark and his fiance Maria (from Dublin) invited me to join them for dinner. I was pleased to have some company. And good company at that.

Another long night:

Toads are croaking whilst dogs bark and howl in the distance.... But it is not the noise of nature that keeps me awake, rather the noise of my mind. Tonight I long for sleep.... But my mind isn't interested one little bit. My eyes are beginning to ache. It's 2am. It's hot. I'm rising at 5am to grab a shower ahead of an early cuppa and a 7km sunrise walk led by Debra. It should be lovely. Hopefully the tiredness won't be a problem.... I think the thing to do for tomorrow will be to plough through with no temptation to 'catnap', do my best not to sleep, then when 8pm arrives - collapse until 7am the following morning..... I've only managed a couple of hours a night out of the past four. It won't be long before my body and mind say 'sleep', and everything will listen.... I look forward to hitting.

It's 5am.... and I'm still awake. Bugger!