Beach Chundering & Leaving Shankar Prasad

Saturday morning a group of us had decided we'd grab a couple of rickshaws at 6am and head to a little rocky outcrop with a lone palm tree just south of Om Beach to watch the sunrise..... From there we intended to walk across to Half Moon Beach then onwards to Paradise Beach, returning to Om Beach to catch the sunset.

I woke on Saturday morning feeling a little worse for ware. I was hoping the 'ill' feeling was simply down to a lack of sleep. One thing was for sure, I wasn't missing out on our day of beach combing.

After a couple of wrong turns, and a little rock climbing we found the single palm treed observation point just as the bottom of the sun kissed goodbye to the horizon. We meditated for 20 minutes, then headed back to 

Sunrise from Om Point...

Om Beach for breakfast at a little Nepali Cafe.

The food sat heavy, and I was

Shankar Prasad Foundation Gokarna

On a recent perfect train journey from Pune to Gokarna I received dinner served to the berth at lunch time the next day, all for the princely sum of £1.00.  Brilliant!
On the train I got chatting to a local 3rd year medical student, training to be a doctor.
We got chatting about all sorts of things, but what I was moved by was his humility.  We were speaking about new treatments, about cancer, about Amanda.  After I talked in length about the options that were given to Amanda on her diagnosis.  I talked about the lack of efficacy and the alternatives that were currently out there, plus more bespoke conventional approaches.  He was genuinely interested in everything I had to say.  But back to humility.  He said to me, 'You are clearly well read.'  I laughed thinking here I am discussing cancer with a med student whilst lay on a bunk bed in an India train travelling to Goa.  He could see the expression on my face read somewhere along the lines that I thought he thought, having to talk with 'uneducated people who think they know about cancer because they've read a few books, papers and studies' was such a drag.  But what he said really did move and impress me.

'What makes us different?  The fact that I have read 4 books on medicine?  This does not mean I know more about cancer or any other topic of the body or disease that you have decided to personally specialise on through self reading.'

Wow, if only all people working in the medical field could show such respect and humility for those amongst who have an education and can apply their intelligence to learn subjects they learned nothing about in school, and can do so to a specialist level if the desire is there.  Not everyone requires a syllabus, a certificate and an income from what they decide to learn about.  It was nice to be reminded of this fact.  Thank you Tarun.  I hope your break went well, and that your humility and understanding of others guides you through life and your career.

I set the alarm on my old mobile phone to wake me at 3.20pm, expecting to pull alongside Gokarna Road at 3.45pm..... I woke at 2.55pm, gazed out the window for a few seconds.  As my eyes fell in to focus and accustomed to the bright light outside I realised I was staring at a hand painted sign stating 'Gokarna Road'.  Either the sign was moving very slowly, or the train was pulling off from my final destination.  Cool as a cucumber I twisted the combination lock to release my backpack.  I grabbed the small camera pack and legged it!  I wrestled with the door then leapt down on to the platform.  Exciting stuff!  A rickshaw driver approached.  'Bankikodla, Shankar Prasa.' I said a tad out of breath. '250 rupees sir'.  I wasn't up for bartering, so off I followed in hot pursuit of the smartly dressed chequered shirt wearing rickshaw driver.On reaching the Shankar Prasad Foundation I was greeted with a warm hug from Swamiji the lady who runs the Ashram. 'You look exactly the same,' she said beaming. It was lovely to receive such a warm reception. I was pleased I looked 'exactly the same', as it had only been 14 months since we'd been here. I know Amanda's passing has taken it's toll on me, but I'm pleased not suffered some sort of accelerated ageing syndrome.

A couple of hours I'd met the other guests residing at this wonderful old Indian heritage home. Leslie a petite and happy little soul from France. Stav a young lady from Israel, Lucas a late twenties South American from Chille, Marien a wonderfully kind, gentle, smiling lady from Germany, John a lovely guy from Brisbane Australia, Elizabeth a fantastically straight talking woman in her late sixties from Switzerland and Shan Fan a young professional woman from China. You wouldn't be laughed out of the place if after talking to or listening to Elizabeth (the lady from Switzerland) you assumed she was from Yorkshire in the UK, ignoring the accent of course. In the UK, the old farmer style gentry from Yorkshire are said to 'Say what they like, and like what they bloody well say.' Obviously this is in jest, about Yorkshire folks I mean, not about Elizabeth. Elizabeth makes me laugh, she's very blunt.

Lesley gives Lucas a lesson in Fire Spinning....

Flaming Circles.

For 350 rupees I share a huge hall type room upstairs with Lucas. Lesley and Stav sleep outside our room on the veranda.... Sexist? No. A little unfair, maybe, but to be honest I'd be happy on the veranda too. Not because there are two lovely young ladies out there. Just for the light and fresh air. Lucas and I do have our shutters open all night so I can't complain.

The 350 rupees includes 3 meals a day, intermittent electricity and a cantankerous water supply. When the water fails, there's always the well. For these relatively basic and cheap lodgings we are all expected to 'do our bit'. Here it is classed as 'Karma Yoga'. To most it's known as working... Building up a sweat.... Or working the brain. Due to my efforts to complete a half decent job in everything I'm asked to do I rarely get to rest, or indeed write my blog. This isn't a bad thing. I think it's done me some good to focus on something. Like when I engraved Amanda's bench. I had focus. I concentrated. The effort for that project was generated through love. The Karma Yoga I have to say is not. Though I do enjoy it.

I signed up for the Advanced Yoga Nidra course. Which comprised of five days of varying Yoga Nidra experiences. It's been wonderful. My yoga students on the Isle of Man are in for a treat when I eventually return to The Rock.

Nuts for Shelling.... In the living area of course....

An average day goes something like this.

The bell rings at 6am. Everyone rises to participate in 45 minutes of chanting with Swamiji. Everyone except me that is. It's not laziness, I love to rise early. I've just decided this time around I'd like to relax for that hour, do my own meditation.

At 7.30am I do a yoga session on the school roof.

Sometimes I'm joined by Lesley who want's to learn a little yoga.

Kids in Hammocks....

View from the School Roof....
Amanda's Playground.

8.30am is breakfast.

9am is 'Karma Yoga'. This has usually involved 20 minutes sweeping, then a combination of food preparation for dinner with Sudha, the lovely cook, and hard manually labour. Sudha is one of the smiliest people I have ever had the good fortune to meet. Amanda was very fond of Sudha, and used to spend much time and effort in attempts to achieve a modicum of decent misaligned conversation with her. Sudha speaks no English, but with lots of nodding, head wobbling, head shaking, hand signals etc we do very well. I learnt this technique from Amanda.

Smiley Sudha.

Fresh Veg awaiting my blade.

A couple of days ago I discovered a huge section of old tree trunk. I decided to de-bark, sand and hollow it for the kids playground. So at the moment I'm generally dripping in sweat, covered in chapati dough or swinging my knife around chopping veg or a combination of all three. Yes, I brought my own big kitchen knife. Life is easier with a big kitchen knife and a veg peeler of your own whilst travelling around India.

Beera, the groundsman and general 'Jack of all trades' loves to inspect my work. I usually spot him in the corner of my eye. Initially he stands at a distance, then a combination of curiosity and the need for a laugh brings him closer and closer. The more he sees the more he realises he could be do the job I'm sweating over, whilst standing on his cloth covered head.

Beera..... A Man's Man....

Each time Beera comes over to inspect what I'm up to it generally ends up with him taking the tool I'm currently fighting with, then doing what I'm doing with it. But with Beera there is more wrist strength and far greater accuracy. He never seems to gloat about this which is endearing. I'm quite content with my feeble wrists. If I got arrested I'd be out of any set of hand cuffs in jiffy.... Ahhhh my hands aren't so tiny. So maybe not...

With undeniable accuracy, Beera's old curved machette lodges solidly beneath the heavy grained wood and dark crusty bark. A swift twist of his insanely strong wrist and a second later a saucer sized chunk of thick bark lands in the dust. Nice job Beera. I wrestle the machette from his leathery sun weathered hands (with a smile and nod of course... and another smile... and a 'Yes? OK?') and with a deft swing of my puny arm the machette bounces off the tree trunk. I smile at Beera. He doesn't laugh, he doesn't mock. He just watches. I swing the medieval looking blade again and this time the point buries satisfyingly beneath the bark. A twist of my wrist sees my wrist twist, but my hand remain at the same angle gripped tightly to the handle of the machette. The strength of my 'chop' clearly buried the blade far further than Beera's attempt.... I gripped the wooden handle with two hands, and realised this could be very embarrassing. With all my might I focused at maintaining an expression of total relaxation, effortless poise, whilst simultanesouly every muscle in the top half of my body from my face down went in to overdrive in an attempt to dislodge the thick covering from the tree. Crack.... No not my wrists, a fairly large piece of bark tumbled to ground, landing in a puff of dry earth. I breathed a sweaty sigh of relief and smiled at Beera.

The Tree Trunk...

Sanding Smooth...... ish....

Dusty work....

Very dusty!!!

Side access for elves....

He took his machette from my hand, slotted it in to the sheath positioned in the small of his back, a strolled off in his 'skirt'. Any man who carries a machette and can wield it with such skill can carry a skirt off. He quickly returned and spent the next few minutes hacking away. He seemed very pleased to help, an escape no doubt from his standard daily routine. I stood sweating buckets in the morning sun, holding the tree trunk in an upright position, whilst Beera happily chopped away. His brow remained dry.

Beera eventually left me to my own devices, returning briefly with a very bloody heavy, rust stained iron pole. Something like a crowbar, but with a twisted finish to allow for the perfect formation of throbbing dirt filled blisters. Thanks again Beera.

The Grain... A River Runs Through it....

I was extremely please with what was revealed underneath the heavy bark coating. The grain of the wood is truly wonderful. Like a river flowing down the tree. If it was at home I'd have taken it to Graham & Simon's wood working shop in Grenaby. It will be lovely for kids to clamber over and crawl through, but it would also have made a beautiful natural sculpture..... Maybe the next time I come to Gokarna I'll return with my chisels! I wish I'd brought them with me this time, as I'd have liked to engrave some words in memory of Amanda. After all the playground and part of the school was funded from money raised at Amanda's funeral. Swami-ji agreed this would be a nice thing to do. It will be nice to do this one day.

11am - Everyone else participates in a 'Chakra Opening' class.

I continue with Karma Yoga, preparing great Indian fare for the masses with Sudha.

2pm If I get the opportunity I usually relax for an hour.

3pm is the Yoga Nidra course. This is a wonderful time where I get to lose myself in deep meditation and visualisation. I take myself to meet Amanda. She is either the subject of my meditation or my protector and guide during it.

You can read more at www.mywifeslump.blogspot.com

4.30pm we are free-ish for a couple of hours or so. This is a good time to head to Gokarna to see the sights.

Sweetcorn Sellers.

She was pleased that I wanted to take pictures rather than purchasing veg....
You can see it in her eyes....

The Spice Man

All things India.

Tiny Barber Shop....
Perfect.

Sunset Gokarna Boat Race....

7pm everyone (except me, chanting is not doing it for me this year) goes for an hour of chanting.

This is a good time for my shower..... Or doing a few more little jobs, or maybe even getting to update the blog.

8pm is evening snack time..... Then after that? Silence, kind of.

Then we begin again....

The days do vary a little, and sometimes we'll do different things in the evening.

Or, like this morning where we rose early, and headed out with Swami-ji to meditate at first light, then watched the sunrise.... This morning I decided I would join the group on their early outing..... This morning I think I was tricked in to chanting! Actually I enjoyed it. I'm just not one for a repetitive regime. The people here are lovely, and Swami-ji is keen to teach... and keen to have people working. The Bihar School of Yoga, where Swami-ji studied was obviously keen on Karma Yoga, no one sitting around socialising. This has carried through in her daily plan. Swami-ji is beginning to realise that some folks just want a bit of down time now and again though. This is a good realisation.

Swami-ji is currently suffering very bad back pains. At night before she sleeps I give her 20 minute gentle Thai style massage with Ayurvedic oil. She says it's wonderful. She said it was the first time in weeks that she had actually felt her back as such. I'm pleased it's helping.

In a couple of days I'll take a bus to Hampi. A place of old temple ruins and large rocks. It should be interesting for photography. Apparently Hampi gets hot. Very hot. I'm assuming the 9 hour bus journey will be a back breaker too! But maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised!

A word to myself.... Keep going Mark....

Thanks for following, hope you are all well, and love to you all.

Pune

I arrived at the reception of the Meridien Hotel in Pune, I checked in to my friends room, where I'd be 'crashing' for the next few nights. Rich wasn't expected back to the hotel until about10pm as he was working UK hours.

I went up the room and made myself comfortable. The view from the window overlooked Pune train station and out over Pune and beyond. Pune is an ever growing city, currently home to over 10 million people. From the eighth floor I could appreciate the sprawl as high rise office buildings appeared to shrink away as they fell in to the distance. Large dark brown soaring birds, black kites, circled above the city, coming within feet of the window from time to time. An impressive sight indeed. These glorious looking 'birds of prey' with their mighty talons and sharp hooked flesh tearing beaks do little more than scavenge through the rubbish. They have become opportunists like the thirty or so poverty stricken locals who sleep on the pavements outside the hotels. They find and eat what ever they can.

From the window.... Slight reflection...Sorry.
Three images stitched vertically together.... Almost got it right!

That evening Rich & Rich returned tired and hungry. We headed for an Indian buffet. The food and company was superb. It was great to see Titch, and lovely to meet his colleague Rich, who may I add is a smashing guy too.

The next morning whilst we sipped peppermint in the lobby, Jaswinder the hotel manager (possibly owner) and Gopan another manager came to meet Rich and Rich. I was introduced to

Getting to Pune....

If you read the previous post you will have seen the first part of my journey to Pune to meet my friend Richard. I jumped in a rickshaw from the ashram in Tiru to the bus station, then got lucky as one of the Villapuram buses was almost ready to go (well you think they are almost ready to go). I found myself a seat right at the front where I could sit with my backpacks. Being at the very front means you can communicate with the driver when you think you are closing in on your destination... You can also watch him as he tries not to fall asleep focusing his blood shot eyes with a heavy furrowed brow.... It makes the journey more predictable. In that I mean it's possible to see the build up to the accident ahead of it actually occurring, thus being able to brace oneself for the high velocity exit through the bus windscreen in to the pile of whomever or whatever the bus driver has just collided with.

As I sat waiting patiently on the bus more and more passengers climbed aboard. Once the aisle was comfortably full we began our 2 hour journey to Villapuram from Tiruvannamalai. As the journey progressed we seemed to pick up more and more passengers. Where these folks were actually fitting I have absolutely no idea, I think it was something to do with the laws of quantum physics, the same thing that allowed motorcyclists to avoid our huge floundering vehicle when it seemed there was nowhere for them to go.

Each time we stopped to allow more passengers to board I felt many pairs of eyes burning in to me. It was as if the 900 or so standing passengers were being put out by the westerner sitting at the front.... I just sat and watched placidly as the India countryside swerved around in front of me, the overly loud air horn gaining constant attention from the over zealous driver. Incredibly there did come a time where the driver began to ignore potential passengers at the side of the road in favour of the buses suspension holding out for the remainder of the journey. It seemed that he had decided the bus was finally full to it's unofficial capacity, literally fit to bust, with a passenger load of somewhere around twenty two thousand most of whom seemed to be carrying their lives around with them along with one westerner also carrying his.

I was not looking forward to getting from the front of the bus to the doors midway down the bus. Courtesy and civilised actions are frowned upon in much of India's public transport systems. It is every man and woman for themselves. The bus driver gave me advance warning of my approaching stop one stop ahead, but I didn't see any point in prolonging the stress. The bus stopped and I surged down the aisle with both packs dragging behind me, beside me, in front of me, above me.... everywhere! Then I was off.... Easier than expected. A fifteen minute walk and I was at the train station with two hours to wait.

The Chai Man loved taking pictures...

I'd checked the status of my ticket during the morning and it was showing WL3, which meant I was Waiting List 3, which also meant I didn't have a seat on the train. Had there been three more cancellations I'd have been on! This was not going to stop me jumping aboard and hoping to make something happen. A young local 'Chai Seller' sat with me on the platform attempting to speak English. He was so loud all the platforms could hear him. I think he'd been so used to shouting 'Chaiiii, Chaiiii, Chaiii' over the years, that his volume switch had perished. Nonetheless it was fun chatting. His endeavours to communicate were heart warming, and he was fairly understandable. I bought a chai and a little deep fried piece of something to eat. 10 minutes later

Tiruvannamalai and the Holy Mountain

Having finally left Aurovile, having done my taxi duties for the locals, I headed in to Pondicherry fully loaded with all my gear and Josephine, who was also catching the bus from Pondi to Tiruvannamalai. We headed in early to catch a 20 rupee ashram breakfast. As we arrived we bumped in to dear Anna Louisa, so we all had breakfast together.

After breakfast we attended Samadhi, a morning ceremony where Sri Aurobindo and The Mother lay (both deceased many years ago, they were the founders of Auroville and the concept behind it. At Samadhi each morning beautiful flower arrangements are laid out for the worshippers to attend. Josephine likes to sit and 'be' whilst all this goes on. For me it's all a bit to close to a religion, so I sit quietly meditating for 15 minutes.

We head over the motorcycle rental shop to drop my bike. The owner of the shop is still not there.  Well it's only just gone 8.30am. As far as I recall the man from V K Travels isn't generally and early starter. I was hoping, even though I'd already paid a big chunk of my rental for the moped, to barter him down from 200 rupees to 100, the same as I'd have paid in Auroville, had I rented the motorcycle there. I wrote him a note stating I was paid up for 15 days based on 100 rupees per day, and that he would even be 300 rupees better off. I left the key and the note under the compartment below the seat, gently settling down so as to not click the catch down.... After a couple of minutes of thought I decided I couldn't do this, even if it did seem he was ripping me off, so I decided to call him. I decided I'd talk to him about it face to face. After coming off the phone a local beggar stood arms length away with his hand out mumbling for change. I gave him 20 rupees. After thanking me profusely he limped away, passing the moped as he went. As Mr V K Travels turned up on his bike I went to retrieve the note, and suddenly realised the beggar had just leant on the seat, locking the key and the note inside. I was now in a bad position for bartering.... I still gave it my best, but gave up and agreed that his price was fine, thinking that it was also going to be a an inconvenience for him to retrieve the key from under the seat. I paid the outstanding and we shook hands. Lovely man.

The bus journey from Pondi to Tiru is a painful affair, it's 3 hours of arse and back rattling discomfort. In fact my arse would have sworn that it was at least an 8 hour journey. The bus was rammed as usual. The aisle filled to capacity. I paid for the bags to have a seat of their own.

We arrived in Tiru, and headed to Daphne's, a British lady friend of Josephine's, she would be staying with her. They decided we should eat as it was lunch time. They ended up deciding to go to The Dreaming Tree. This was where Amanda and I enjoyed our Christmas Eve night time meal whilst in Tiru just over a year ago.... It was strange being in there. The company was good though and the food was great. Amanda would still have loved it. She would also have like Josephine and Daphne. After dinner I headed off to find some accommodation and headed a few yards from where we stayed last Christmas. The room I ended up with was perfect. It was a bit ram shackled, but it was very clean and en suite (a proper flushing loo, and two plastic buckets and jugs for washing!). There were a few mosquitoes but they are everywhere at the moment. This was nothing my little mesh shelter couldn't handle. I used the open roof top for yoga in the mornings.

I pottered around Tiru, heading up the holy mountain a couple of times, sitting with the monkeys as the noise of the traffic below filled the air. I sat where Amanda and I sat, where Amanda swirled the red scarf that is currently tied around my waist.... I missed her. I love her, I'm bound to miss her.

Us.... on Arunachala

My love with her Cambodian red silk scarf.... Now my constant travel companion.

Monkey sits close on my morning venture up the mountain....

Local man gathers flowers below my room...

I arranged to meet Joanne, one of Amanda's friends from The Journey. Joanne is from Cumbria, but now spends most of her time in Tiru helping run a little eco resort on the outskirts. I cycled out on a bike that Josephine lent me. It was a typical Indian rattle

Pondicherry - Poverty, Vendors and Fire Departments.

Today Natalia was leaving Nilitangham. She needed a ride to Pondicherry. I thought I could find Anna Louisa for a late breakfast and maybe a little healing, so offered her a ride in on the back of my moped. Afterall I was a professional 'life giver' now!

We stopped enroute for coffee and cake then cruised our way in to Pondi. The roads were even more chaotic than normal. There were whoops and the odd laugh and 'I'm frightened' sounds coming from behind me as Natalia struggled to contain her emotions amidst the mayhem. Finally I dropped Natalia off at The New Guesthouse (I have to admit the landlords of Pondi are clearly not the most creative when it comes to naming newer establishments!) and went in search of Anna Louisa. After much asking and much help from the locals I finally stumbled upon AL's guesthouse. Afterr all that she wasn't in. Ah well. I decided it was time I immersed myself in some 'street photography', something I've never done before, having lacked the confidence to be knocked back by strangers.... But now it seems I don't mind quite so much. I still feel uncomfortable, but we'll just have to see how it goes.

After not finding AL, I bumped along 'Poor Pondi', where local fisher families and poverty seemed rife. The living quarters of most families was no bigger than an average living room in Europe or the UK, and the construction was either corrogated iron, foliage, plastic, or if there is a tiny bit of money to play with, a tiled roof. As you can see, there was a wide variety of homes.

Fishing Nets & Laundry

 The river gives you an idea of the filth... I can't photograph smells, but if I

Leaving Auroville.....

It seems I've been saying this for days.... But finally it's coming true.
Having met with my 73 healer Anna Louisa, whom when I called happened to be in Auroville that very morning, nice coincidence, if there's such a thing, tried to perform energy healing on my neck and shoulder.  She wanted somewhere secluded and quiet, for a moment I thought she was going to have her wicked way with me as we wandered in to the woods near the Matrimandir, of course I was wrong, I'm clearly not her type!  Once I'd removed my vest Anna Louisa got to work connecting with me initially then focusing her energy in to the area of discomfort.  She discovered I have energy blocks in both shoulders, and the fact I could feel nothing as she worked, suggested that I'm not 'totally in my body'.  Anna Louisa suggested that seeing as Amanda and I were so close, soul mates even, that my soul/life force may have taken a hell of a jolt, and this could be affecting me mechanically.  She has suggested I find someone who practices Shamanic healing..... The neck is easing off a little now, but the pain that is there is still stabbing and excrutiating, though I have more movement than before which is nice.

Coming home to roost....

After the healing we went for coffee and cake, where we met Lorraine and Josephine.  Lorraine was of course another mature lady, as I said earlier, I've found my niche.  She was empathetic and very funny.  A bubbly lovely lady.  Josephine was the same age as Amanda and had been living in Auroville for 3 years.  Both ladies were originally from the US.  They played at guessing where I was from, then vice versa.  We all chatted for an hour or more.  It was lovely.
I mentioned I was heading to

Last Days of Auroville....

Over recent days I've suffered emotional ups and downs. I had breakfast twice with Janet, a lady we met at one of 'The Journey' seminars in Hyderabaad last year. Another lady in her seventies. There seems to be a pattern emerging! We talked about Auroville, as she was one of the first pioneers here in the 60's.... When Auroville was getting started. When there was nothing but bare sandy land and little else. The tiny local villages had nothing, and many of the inhabitants of these settlements had never even made it the 6km to Pondicherry. They were living hand to mouth, simply surviving. The villages are now part of the Auroville community. Auroville has created jobs and has assisted many of the village women develop skills to allow them to earn a living. There is much creativity out here in Auroville. It's one of the things Amanda loved about it. That and a rather large 'healing' fraternity. There are lots of alternative therapies on offer out here in Auroville. They are generally run by French or German expats who have adopted Auroville as their home. Upped sticks in search of a better way of life. There's a lot of politics here in Auroville and it doesn't run to it's ideal as I've mentioned in previous posts, but it is nonetheless a wonderful place, full of good energy. People cycle or motorcycle about to cover the rural sprawl that is Auroville. Women feel safe enough to stop and ask hairy looking strangers crouching in the dark by their motorcycle's, 'Is everything OK?'. Can any of you ladies imagine stopping on your bicycle in the darkness on a single track lane in the arse of nowhere, where a rather suspicious looking hairy man crouched on the ground fiddles with his clothes (it was getting cool and I decided to put another top on – not a fresh murdering or raping shirt, which this lovely young lady clearly recognised), of course not, in fact a lot of men would about turn and pedal the other way if the chap wasn't blocking their route home. That's the sort of place Auroville is.

I met with Nick, the British 'marketeer' who is helping Balu develop sales strategies for the Bamboo Centre, where I buy the soaps. May be I'll start importing their bamboo scarves..... Not as

AUROVILLE - NILITANGHAM HOBBIT HOUSE

Here we have the interior of my hobbit house.  It's simple.... very simple in fact, a bit like it's main inhabitant.

As a hobbit life is simple..... I wake up and sort out a beautiful fruit salad, whilst trying to spot mosquitoes before they land on my rather delicious flesh (only delicious to biting insects).

I return from the little kitchen having dined on sun ripened, banana, apple, mango, melon, papaya and pomegranate to practice yoga followed by a short or long meditation.  The birds are singing and the sun sparkles through the mango tree leaves.  Mongoose move through the undergrowth from time to time pursuing legless lizards, whilst butterflies simply flutter by on the breeze....

The air is filled with song. 

Once you know what's living with you and if you don't mind sharing your space,

being a hobbit isn't so bad.

AUROVILLE - LITTLE HITCH HIKERS

I

I was riding back from Pondicherry yesterday when a lovely local lady flagged me down as I turned from the main road to the smaller road to Auroville.  She then tried to get herself, her baby and her two girls on the moped with me..... I said I wasn't confident enough to carry everyone, especially a baby, it was way too much responsibility for my liking. With much smiling and a little head wobbling by way of thank you, she settled for passing the responsibility of her two beautiful young daughters to the hairy moped riding stranger for the next few minutes..... Nice!.