Pokhara, Nepal to Kathmandu and Back West.....

With the Annapurna Circuit completed in 10 days I was caught with 9 days before my flight from Kathmandu on the 21^st April. Rather than heading to Kathmandu. I decided to remain in the far more tranquil tourist filled town of Pokhara.

Having finished the trek and arrived at Snow Leopard guesthouse, where I'd left my backpack and unnecessary items for trekking I was welcomed with a no rooms available sign, so I grabbed my pack and began searching. It wasn't long before I was settled in to a lovely room at the Mount Annapurna Inn guesthouse five minutes walk from Pokhara Lakeside.

Agreeing to stay put for 6 nights I was a afforded a fine room at a rate of 500 Nepalese Rupees (£3.35) per night. With an attached bathroom, piping hot water and WiFi it was just what I was looking for. There was also a nice balcony area, and open roof top to practice yoga and meditation. This suited me just fine. The family that run the M.A.I. were very lovely, which is always a bonus.

I bumped in to friends I'd met on the trek, and a lovely Italian guy who I'd met over breakfast a little over a month ago in Varanasi, India. The day I bumped in to Barbi he invited me to dinner with his friends, it was a nice couple of hours. 'Meet us at the Methaba Turkish restaurant at 7.30pm.' It was a bit of hike from where I lived, but I managed to get there for spot on 7.30pm, By 8pm no one had appeared. I ordered some food, then asked was there another Methaba on this road. Apparently there was, about 200 yards further down the road. This was a 'branch' of the main place. What were the chances. I wandered to Methaba main to meet the guys. I was sat by a lovely lady who who lived in Hawaii on The Big Island. We got chatting, then as always on to Amanda. She was quiet, and listened empathetically. She then went on to tell me she was waiting for results of a second opinion on a lump she'd found in her right breast. This lady is 42 years of age, the same as Amanda when she passed away. We kept in touch. She has since found out the lump was cancerous, and has chosen to have a full mastectomy with reconstruction. I asked what she intended to do. She told me, 'I'll just carry on enjoying life, doing what I'm doing.' She has chosen not to have chemotherapy or radiation.

Good luck in all you do 'J', live life fully and fearlessly like you have been.

A couple of younger guys joined us later on. One lovely (gay) fella and his pal Cameron. As it turned out Cameron happened to be from Fairbanks Alaska, exactly where I'm headed. We chatted and chuckled briefly, but it was time for me to head off, I was tired and wanted to be alone. As I left, I overheard the nice gay guy say to Jade, 'I like that man' followed by some other nice comments, followed immediately by Cameron saying 'I don't like him, not at all. He's competition for the ladies.' I afforded myself I little chuckle! He was unaware of my story.

I shouted back, 'I can still hear you all.', they laughed.

Nepali New Year's Eve, 14^th April was spent with a couple of girls I'd met on the trek. We dined with a few others, had a couple of beers, then headed to watch a live band. Nice night.

Whilst having breakfast the following morning at 'Kiss Kush', (my every morning breakfast haunt in Pokhara), a celebration of colour began in the street. People were flinging brightly coloured powders over one another. Minutes later, the road, the cafe, the menus, the tables, the food were all caked in the lightest covering of pink dust..... Kiss Kush on the corner by Cafe Concerto, well known for it's great pizzas serves a fantastic, hearty and delicious breakfast for 220 rupees (150 nrps to the £1). It was known as the 'Heavy Set Breakfast'. It included spicy fried potatoes, onions and tomatoes, with a sliced wholemeal baguette served with butter and jam. A tea of choice (ginger and lemon) followed by a large bowl of fruit, muesli and curd (I traded my two eggs for a larger bowl of the muesli each morning). With this breakfast I need not eat until evening.

New Year's Day Celebration outside Kiss Kush.

Another breakfast morning, whilst checking emails and sipping ginger tea, I spotted Dr Doug, my Australian friend from the Annapurna Circuit. I chased him down to say hello. Doug asked if I'd managed to get to the pass on Amanda's birthday, he was genuinely pleased for me, and even more pleased that I hadn't died achieving my goal. He went on to kindly offer me a ride to Kathmandu in travel party's private mini van on Friday. He knew I was headed back in a few days. I grabbed the opportunity, which meant I'd be leaving Pokhara a day earlier than planned.

I'd spotted a couple of shops selling beautiful organic hemp products. Rucksacks, handbags, small bags, wallets, guitar cases, dresses, trousers and hats.... I wondered if they would sell in the UK. All the organic hemp items I was looking to purchase were made by a

Amanda-purna Circuit - Renamed from Annapurna Circuit - I'm not doing it for Anna.......

The bus journey to Besisahar was nicely uneventful. I met Kieron from Dublin and Eddy from Seattle. Eddy was a raw foody for the past 7years. He started the trek carrying a water melon. I didn't really fancy his chances of completing the 17 to 21 day circuit featuring the highest mountain pass in the world and the steepest ascent and descent of any trekking path in the world.... I think bending the rules is a must on such an adventure.

I walked for the first hour with Kieron and Eddy, then started to pull away a little.... to the point I got too far ahead to say goodbye. A plan was formulating in my head. It was the 2^nd April... in 5 days, the 7^th April, Amanda would have been 43 years old.... I wondered could I commemorate her birthday by reaching the highest pass in the world on her birthday.

From the people I spoke to apparently it was a resounding no.

The distance, the rough terrain, the steep ascent and the possibility of

To the Back of Beyond.... Surkhet and Tallo Dungaswor

Homestay 1.

I sat waiting in the dusty bus stop after ringing Miguel to let him know I'd arrived from Tiger Tops. His friend arrived 15 minutes later. His friend was a Tharu Nepali man with an old bicycle, a big smile and a nice hat. Miguel told me I'd have to carry nothing, but there was no way this man and his bicycle were going to accommodate both my bags. He took the bigger of the two and popped it on the back of his bicycle. I kept the little densely packed electronics and photographic equipment bag thinking we'd be there in no time. Forty minutes later having passed along many tracks and little farm houses we arrived. I have to stop assuming I short distances.

'Hello my friend! How are you?' Miguel welcomed me smile and big hand shake.... I was past warm.... I was roasting. 'I'm good Miguel, quite a walk that, wasn't really expecting it to be honest. Nice to see the surrounding area though.' I remarked.

This was Miguel's 'Homestay'. He helped this family build a house some 5 years ago whilst he stayed with them. Miguel is fluent in Nepali, and although the Tharu mainly speak Tharu, they also speak Nepali. The house as you'd expect for a Nepali farm house consists of a mud floor with white painted mud plastered brick walls. The house runs over two floors. The floor above the ground floor is the living area.

The kids....

Farm from the barn window...

Relatives son and daughter....

Our beds were basic. There was electricity for lighting provided by solar lights and a little generator when necessary. It was basic, but it should be, as these people live simply. Everything they eat they grow. When Miguel's friend had to travel to India with Miguel for a couple of days he ate nothing. He didn't trust it. He eats only fresh foods, be them meat, vegetables, pulses or beans.

The Man of The House....
told you he had a nice hat!

Me in the barn window....

As I sit in the glass-less window on the first floor of the farmhouse looking on to the yard below four little girls play at jumping over one another. Two form the 'high jump bar' with their legs, two jump. Then they switch. Shortly afterwards they play with handfuls of stones, performing a little throw up, pick up and catch. Whilst this goes on their little brother plays with an old

Kathmandu & Tiger Tops Karnali Lodge Bardia National Park

My final evening was spent with Miguel in Kathmandu. Fernando was out on the town with Miss Argentina. Thank heavens the unstoppable sex machine from South America had finally managed to get his leg over. I think his mattress was in for a good seeing too if the lady he'd picked up hadn't gotten between the hard to lie on object..... and the mattress.....

Miguel took me to a tiny little local place. Tiny! Two tables. He brought along with him Lumas, a local Nepali aged 28. I really nice guy. Miguel ordered chilli buffalo chunks for us all, along with two tumbahs. Tumbah as it turns out is a fermented millet drink. The best comparison of smell would be if you've ever left an open tin of sweetcorn in the fridge and then forgotten about it for a couple of weeks. If not try it. The smell is identical. I also think if you swigged the water from the bottom of the fermenting sweetcorn it would taste the same (for all you fishermen out there, it smells like off hempseed, and it looks like it too.). It's served in a large wooden mug. The mug is full of split black seeds (like cooked hempseed). The seeds form a type of quicksand that you slurp the tumbah alcohol from through a straw. There is a slight after taste of bad red wine. This is the part Miguel enjoys. The part I enjoyed was finishing it and deciding I'd never ever let tumbah pass my lips again.

My vegan persuasion has been long out the window due to my travels through India, and now vegetarian seems to have slipped for the time being. I realise over the coming few days I simply can't be too fussy. I'm not in the UK, Europe or US, sometimes it's a necessity to have to eat what we are hosts provide us with. As long as the meat is from a natural source, ie. nutritious and organic I don't mind. I don't really enjoy meat that much any more, apart from a slow cooked lamb shank and the odd home made organic burger. And health wise, the less animal protein the better. I'm not getting my home prepared huge portions of raw veg and massive organic soups, so I have no doubt that I am lacking nutritionally. This in itself could explain my illness, lack lustre coat, dull eyes and dry nose.... Grrrrr ruff! A bit of meat will probably do me good for the present time. Finally my digestive system is beginning to heal.... It was starting to get me down a bit.

After the meat based dinner Miguel ordered Lumas to take me to a local Rock Club called Purple Haze. It was great. A huge room with a stage and very good live rock band with a twist. The twist was it was open night, so anyone who fancied singing could do so. Posh karaoke if you will. I stayed an hour then headed back to The Radiant (sounds nice doesn't it? Dark, dingy rooms with a lack of electricity), but for £5.50 between the Fernando and I we couldn't complain.

The next morning Fernando headed off at 6.30am to Pokhara (Hara isn't a girl, this was not a misspelling). I packed my gear up. Ate some oats and fruit, then headed in to the streets of Thamel for a lovely cup of ginger lemon tea and a piece of baked cheese cake at The Pumpernickel Bakery. I met Miguel at 12pm. Miguel is 44. He's been living in Nepal on and off now for about 17 years. For a short man he walks with a speed that belies the length of his legs. I struggled to keep up with him as he strode effortlessly through the main sight seeing areas of Kathmandu. At Dubar Square where huge temples reside amidst a sea of pigeons and a handful of tourists we waited for Lumas. Miguel had some police business to attend. I got to join them.

The police interview rooms are very old style. A vast computer screen, deeper than the Mariana trench dwarfed the old desk it rested upon. An old tatty filing cabinet stood solidly against the cream painted walls. The officer who Miguel talked with had a soft smile and large red bindi just below his hair line. For some reason this seemed to provide him with an air of honesty and integrity. The seam down the legs of his cotton trousers appeared razor like. If they brushed past my hand surely my fingers would fall off. An hour or so later with more officers, we were done....

The back streets of Kathmandu main were stacked as high as the sky with this, that and the other..... Some beautiful stuff I might add. If I had a truck I'd bring a load back to sell, there really is some great quality items. As we headed back to Miguels hotel to rest for an hour the heavens slowly began to darken. We made a dash for it.... Which meant Miguel walked a little faster whilst I sprinted to keep him within sight. As we entered the reception the heavens opened. Gob stopper sized drops of rain bounced on the dusty concrete streets. Then clanking as huge pieces of hail began to crash amidst the rain. It was quite a sight. Five minutes later the sun returned. Steam began to rise from the streets as the heat caused the water to evaporate.

The view from the roof top of Miguel's place was stunning. I could see right across Kathmandu in all directions to the surrounding mountains. I wish The Radiant had had 7 floors!

We ate, relaxed, then headed to the bus station, which turned out to be a 40 minute walk away. I love carrying all my gear around.....

I got on the bus at 6pm. Miguel returned at 6.36pm as the bus driver honked his horn repeatedly as he began to pull away from the station. I reached for my mobile and called Miguel. 'Yez, yez, I'm coming, they will not leave with out me.'. A minute later he sat down with tumbah breath...... A quick pre-journey apertife. Miguel has good contacts. He managed to get us front seats on the bus. These are much prized arse cradles allowing for almost full leg stretching area.

At 10.30pm we pulled over somewhere. It was a half hour stop. We unwrapped our crusty bread, opened a tin of tuna and carved a huge chunk of cows cheese. Miguel ordered us a beer whilst we prepared our picnic on the plastic table outside the little food stop. It tasted divine.

At 8am we arrived where ever the hell it was that we needed to be....

We changed buses. An hour later Miguel got off. I remained on for another 15 minutes to Ambassa, where the Tiger Tops Karnali Lodge staff would be picking me up.

I'd be reconvening with Miguel in 3 days time.

Tiger Tops Karnali Lodge:

As I lugged my backpack towards the checkpoint I was met by a friendly guide and his driver from Tiger Tops. The old Land Rover took us the remainder of the journey to my plush lodgings for the next 3 nights. It was only 10.30am so I was really making the most of it.

25 minutes later I was in the main dining area being briefed with regards to the facilities and safety precautions. Five more minutes and my face was buried in a bowl of fresh curd, fruit and muesli, washed down with a glass of freshly squeezed ginger juice and water. What a start.

Beem (one of the safari guides and hosts) suggested I relax for a while then join the other two guests for lunch followed by an elephant ride at 3pm. This sounded great.

Liz and Mary were two retired ladies, who'd set about having some top quality adventures. They were on the last 3 days of a Nepal village trekking holiday. They were both lovely ladies and made me feel very welcome. It was nice to have a little British company for a change.

As I entered cottage number 21 I was taken aback at it's beauty. I wandered in to the main sleeping area, where a kingsize bed awaited me..... A pair of slippers and pair of bath robes hung outside the bathroom. I immediately felt a wave of sorrow. This place was going to be our final stop on our travels last year. A treat for Amanda and I after months of backpacking and weeks of trekking. It was so beautifully decorated. Simple, clean and fresh. Amanda would have loved it. She may not have been bothered with the safaris but she'd have loved to just hang around this space and relax.

I pulled myself together and grabbed a shower under the rain fall style shower head. The water was hot and delightful. It was the first time I'd felt fully clean in over 36 hours.

Lunch was delightful array of fresh salad, noodles, rice and other bits and pieces. It was a little help yourself buffet. The food was continental, rather than Nepali, and a little Nepali would have been very nice indeed. But complain we did not! It was wonderful. If around the Lodge at lunchtime the buffet is your fare. If out on safari a wholesome packed lunch is served.

At 3pm we headed to our elephants. I had one and Liz and Mary shared another. How old are these elephants I enquired. Beem replied, '38 and 42'. For most people this would have little or no significance whatsoever, but to me it had plenty. 'Ha ha' I chortled. 'Same age as me and my wife.' I said. Amanda would have enjoyed the elephant ride.

Aboard my beast.

Approaching the bathing area.

Elephant surfing
(imaging Hawaii Five O music playing)

Not entirely sure how this panned out?

Just to let you know I am really here...

Hair wash....

Elephant and Nessie captured in same shot...

Playin' & Sprayin'

After riding the elephants through the forest on the periphery of the National Park, with the guides constantly informing us of the wildlife and local flora and fauna we arrived at a large pool on the river where the elephants were taken to be washed each day.

At the pool were about 10 huge Indian pachyderms, splashing, spraying and seeming to have lots of fun. It was a joy to watch these huge creatures in their element with one another and their handlers. There was clearly a good relationship between elephants and handlers.

We returned to Karnali Lodge on our lumbering four legged vehicles at 6.30pm ready for more food.

A brief presentation about the various animals that reside in the protected land of the Bardia National Park along with highlighting the continued battle with poachers who slay the Asian One Horned Rhino and Bengal Tiger for big money to Chinese traders involved in Chinese Medicine (I use the term Medicine very loosely here). At 70km long and approximately 20km wide, the Bardia National Park is similar in size to the Isle of Man. The park is unfenced, the boundary is set by rivers and natural land marks. The animals just choose to live here as it's their natural habitat.

There are approximately 50 bengal tigers in this area. And I was really hoping to see one. Beem told me the best way to see one was to do the all day jeep safari.

As we dined on a delicious three course meal Liz, Mary and I decided we'd head out for the day on the jeep safari in the hope of seeing one of the 27 Asian One Horned Rhinoceros, 50 Bengal tigers or a wild Indian elephant. We knew there were many other creatures to see aswell, so would not be disappointed if we didn't see one of the big three.

The next morning consisted of a huge breakfast. Curd, fruit and muesli, followed by poached eggs toast and fried potatoes and grilled tomatoes. I was set up for the day.

The temperature was cool first thing, we huddled in khaki green coloured blankets as the Land Rover trundled it's way along the track leading in to the national park.

We reached the gates where upon the guides signed us in and the adventure began.

Beautiful wild peacocks and brightly coloured bee eaters filled our eyes. Spotted deer bounded across the track in large herds. Huge birds of prey took flight or sat perched in trees watching us. A Changeable Hawk Eagle (After this bird I was hoping to see the 'Stubborn as you like Falcon Owl,' but apparently according to the guides it probably doesn't exist) sat proud on the large limb of a leafless tree, whilst a serpent eating eagle soared to our right, presumably searching out serpents. I love huge raptors such as eagles and kites, they so huge, powerful and graceful.

The land within the park is incredibly diverse. Within in minutes the Land Rover can be cruising on a track through dense forest straight out of a Brothers Grimm tale, speckled with mustard coloured neolithic looking towers reaching almost two metres in height... termite sky rises, then before you know it gnarled and twisted trees like witches fingers reach skyward from the dry earth. Plains dotted with dead looking trees still comatose in their winter nudity. Old rickety wooden lookout towers stand proud against the flat landscape. Dense grasslands border the Karnali river as it meanders it's way around and through the park.

By 10am we'd taken to foot, following the river in search of something large. As we walked a wonderful array of birds were pointed out to us by Beem and Shambu. At one point Shambu stopped in his tracks then raised his binoculars to point out a Brown Fish Owl perched on an overhanging log. What a great bird to see. Beautiful white throated and pied kingfishers pricked the sandy banks of the river with their gorgeous plumage, whilst large snakehead fish eeled their way upstream in pairs to spawn. We settled down on a high bank. We sat and waited patiently whilst the guides listened out for monkey or deer alarm calls. These alarm calls translate in to 'TIGER' 'TIGER'.

In the Land Rover....

After 45 minutes we walked back to the Land Rover.

Our next look out point had us sat for a couple of hours.... alarm calls were heard, but the tiger was resting up in the long grass out of sight of prying eyes.

We headed further in to the park. We pulled up in front of another safari jeep. We whispered to one another. No talking when approaching view points, as wild animals can pick up the slightest sound and spook. As we approached a guide from the other team approached finger to mouth, then signaled a monster style charade. A silent 'Raaa' with arms raised and fingers curled in to claws.

We walked fast behind him.

Firstly a huge One Horned Rhino frolicked in the small water hole 20 feet below us and 70 metres to the right, boom!

Guide chilling...

Asian One Horned Rhino...

From his better side......

Then the piece de resistance. I borrowed Beem's binoculars and focused on a water hole 400 metres diagonally to the right. I was told to look to the right of the large dead logs in the water.

With much initial eye straining, sure as anything there was a blob of orange in the water right up against the submerged dead tree. Was it really a wild Bengal tiger??? Or was it an orange balloon painted with a little black and white paint to form a tiger facade.... Ooooh did it just move?

Everyone focused on the rhino. He was impressive, but most of him was submerged, much like the tiger. I sat with the binoculars firmly pressed to my eyes for the next hour. The guides had given up on seeing it move and sat in a circle whispering to one another. Liz and Mary enjoyed their huge packed lunches, and a French couple snored in the hot afternoon soon. I remained focused. I sat on the ground, on my own with total tiger observing concentration. Suddenly it moved. Bloody hell it really is a tiger. The huge cat dipped it's head under the water and returned to the surface. Now I could barely see it all. I stubbornly continued to observe.

After an hour the tiger lifted turned and waded to the bank. He walked up the bank, I watched in awe. He stood and looked back as if he could see straight down my binoculars.... then he shook his coat to remove the excess water. He lay down, then got back up and disappeared in to the forest.

I walked over to everyone informing them of what I'd just witnessed. No one else saw the tiger leave. It was just me and him.

15 minutes later two locals sauntered past where the tiger had been bathing continuing their journey to the waters edge where they walked along the river.

I like to make this wild animal scenario as real as I can in my own head. If I go fishing at dawn in the UK I feel blessed to see our local wildlife. Deer, fox, badger, stoat or hare..... all great animals, and these are what I'm likely to encounter as I stroll the river bank. But here in India you can come across, rhinos, wild elephants, tigers, leopards etc. It's just awesome. These huge mammals are their foxes, badgers, hedgehogs and hares. Brilliant.

We remained in position for an hour as Beem felt the tiger may come across and round providing a view from 50 metres as opposed to 400 metres. We eventually moved on to one of Beem's personal favourites. Here we watched as a rhino emerged from the grass, gently walking in to the river before immersing himself. A few minutes later he exited in to the long grass. We continued to watch for half and hour before continuing our safari by checking in on various watering holes and waiting. We saw two different deer species too. Spotted and swamp deer. Both as jittery and nervous as the next. That's what I love about these animals. They really are wild. They don't really want to come across humans, which is why the guides insist on quieteness and stealth. We don't want to disturb only observe.

We returned to the lodge at 6.45pm. We were all well and truly shattered. Sitting and waiting patiently or stubbornly is tiring. The guides suggest bringing a book, but the worry of missing something is too much for me to distract myself with literature whilst on safari.

That night Liz & Mary said they loved the day but couldn't do another full day safari, and opted for something more relaxing and sedate, a morning wandering the local area whilst bird watching. I hoped I'd be able to snag another full day safari. An hour later it was settled. I would get to spend the morning on a walking safari, then the Land Rover would deliver lunch and take us to watering holes further in to the depths of the park. I was excited. Beem was too. He could see the enthusiasm I had today, the dogged stubbornness to give up on the tiger. He knew we could go places where the ladies may not have appreciated...... I had a feeling this was going to be fun.

By 7am Beem, Ram Jin and I were walking over the dew covered plains following a track in to the grasslands. We bumped in to the guides who were at the place where I watched the tiger at a distance. He mentioned that as soon as our Land Rover door closed and the engine rumbled the tiger came out from the grass on to the river bank opposite them. The big cat was a mere 80 or so metres away. Foiled!

We continue along the silent track. Suddenly a monkey calls. And again. Beem and Ram Jin whisper excitedly. They look to where the monkey is watching. We circle back and try to see if we can observe a relaxing tiger. We push through the long grass on a tiny goat track..... But nothing....

We change direction and stumble upon fresh prints, something being dragged too. A tiger has made a kill. Only small, but it was visible in the sand where the prey had dragged in the sand now and again. The tracks continued. 

Tiger pug in the sand....

The next thing we are pushing fast over the rugged terrain. Ram Jin, 55 covering one area, me following close behind Beem in the other. Beem is pushing through the shoulder high black tipped golden grass. My vest and long green board shorts were no match for this brutal foilage. It scratched and spanked the skin, but the excitement blocked any pain. We were now in head high grass. Beem carrying a thick bamboo stick, me carrying my camera equipment and my tripod. We weren't set up to defend ourselves from a huge marmalade coloured cat, with claws as long as my fingers and teeth to match, that's for sure.

Chasing claws and teeth through the long grass....

Beem and Ram Jin whistled to one another. We veered together before sneaking up on two densely covered 'almost' watering holes. A good place to feed.... Nothing. A deer barks, a monkey shouts. Beem begins to run 'come, come' Ram Jin whispers 'hurry'. We all break in to a light jog. It's hot, I'm sweaty and covered in black streaks from head to toe. The tips of the burnt grass having made their mark. I was wondering where we were headed. Was the tiger so close we were going to stumble upon it. What did they know?

As it happened we ran almost 1.5km to a river crossing we'd sat at the day before. They assumed the tiger was going to cross here very soon. We arrived sweaty and out of breath. Two Dutch ladies were there with their guide. Nothing had passed yet..... Two hours later still nothing. Well I say nothing.... A cracking big old rhino showed up and we got a lovely view of him from about 150 metres. They still thought there was a tiger in the trees to the left of the river, but they felt we'd waited long enough. We ate and then jumped in to the Land Rover to head to new spot.

On arriving at our new spot the previous one produced another bloody tiger an hour after we left. It was at 150 metres, the same place as the rhinoceros had chilled out. Ah well.

As we drove a huge bird of prey lifted and landed on a limb right up against the tree trunk. Beem focused his binoculars and exclaimed excitedly 'Oh Oh Wow!!! A spot bellied eagle owl. Rare to see really rare!' It was a real treat. I love owls, and to see one of the worlds largest owls in the wild was superb. We checked another couple of spots for tigers, and I could feel Beem was getting desperate. We'd had two very unlucky missed opportunities.... Both occassions Beem thought we should stay a while longer, but knew there was a chance we would get a closer view elsewhere. We gambled. It suited me fine. It's akin to fishing for me. Sometimes you catch sometimes you don't. It's all in the chase.

Ram Jin decided to sit at a very likely water hole. We'd heard monkeys so there was a tiger moving somewhere. Beem headed us in the direction of 'The Four Lakes'. This was a good hike through forest, then down a steep bank on to a dry river bed. The driver climbed a nearby tree to keep look out. It was all hands on deck to find me a tiger. They were as keen as I was. It was lovely. We approached the first three watering holes with the stealth of pebble hopping ninjas.... But nothing. These were places no one else had been for a few days. No human tracks. This was a treat especially for me. Beem knew I'd go anywhere. He said I was strong and keen.

Then we spotted some big tiger paw prints..... and little baby cub prints too.... we pursued along the sandy river bank.... We reached a spot where the tigers had slept. The fluffy sand compressed. Beem felt the tigers may have retreated in to the long grass sensing our approach. Been went around the back of the large grassy area. I followed as closely as possible.

Suddenly I was aware we were in sharp yellow grass which dwarfed Beem and matched me for height. This was super exciting. Would we see a tiger and cub, or would be inadvertently disturb them and cause them to flee or cause the mother to fear our approach, mistaking us for a threat..... Suddenly the ground rumbled and the tall dry grass rushed toward us. We both froze, in that split second I saw Beem's stick rise, my heart had moved from chest to mouth, everything happened in what seemed like an instant. A million thoughts flashed through my mind in a millionth of a second. Everything and nothing happened simultaneously....

A spooked huge swamp deer bolted full speed towards and to the left of us..... I released a whispered 'f' word of relief whilst Beem mumbled something under his breath.... no doubt expressing his own sense of still remaining un-mauled by a tiger!

We checked the prints again but it wasn't to be our day.

We tried a few more watering holes on the way back out of the park but to no avail.

In all honesty the day of tracking was so much more exciting. The running, the chasing, the following fresh prints. The terror I felt as the invisible swamp deer bolted toward us doing it's finest tiger attack impression. The day was a complete success.

Yesterday I was privileged enough to be able to watch a Bengal tiger in it's own habitat doing it's own thing..... It was incredible. I saw wild Asian one horned rhino's, lots of beautiful deer and a huge array of wonderful birds from the thumb sized to the mansized!

Tie this wonderful experience in with guides and staff who simply can't seem to do enough for you makes Tiger Tops Karnali Lodge and safari experience something I'd love to do year on year.

After one more delightful night of imagining my lovely Amanda was still here with me in our beautiful lodge, and then sharing breakfast with Liz and Mary in the morning, I'll be off to meet Miguel to head even deeper in to Wild Nepal.

Miss you all, love you all.  

Nepalese Bus Journey - 13 eventful hours.....

Bus journeys in Northern India tend to be pretty terrifying but non eventful, in Nepal these journeys are even more terrifying and far more eventful.

Both Fernando and I were taken aback by the impatient and down right stupid approach to driving buses in Nepal. Our driver seemed to glean immense pleasure from terrorising local motorcyclists and other road users from through the forgotten art of tail gating and constant horn blowing.

The normal gentle sway of a well planned overtaking

Darjeeling to Kalimpong and Back.....

We arrived in Darjeeling just as darkness was shrouding the city.

The place looked unimpressive. Similar to many other Indian cities, but balanced on the side of a hill. There were no rolling tea plantations as far as we could see.

To make our room more affordable Fernando suggested we share a large double bed. I'm not a proud man, and he's a handsome fella.

Fernando looking out from Ghoom Monastery

Darjeeling rests at an altitude of 2100 metres. It is bloody cold. From 28 degrees celcius in Varanasi to a chilly 8 degrees in Darjeeling. I needed more appropriate clothing.

The faces of the locals looked far more Nepali than India. Much softer features with more pronounced Eastern Asia eyes.

Neither Fernando or I were impressed with the place, Fernando particularly disappointed that his idyl of rolling tea plantations was nowhere to be seen.. We decided to try and fit in Darjeeling's big three first thing in the morning. The recommendations were as follows. Pick up at 4.30am to see the sunrise from Tiger Hill, followed by a visit to a Needle shaped war memorial ending with a wander around the Ghoom Monastery.

I wasn't feeling great when we arrived, and didn't feel much better at 4.20am the next morning.

Darjeeling City...

A stream of jeeps bursting with Indian tourists lead the way to Tiger Hill. We were surprised to see so many vehicles on these tiny roads at this time in the morning. On arrival we were met with a barrage of chaotic parking. Vehicles were literally deserted all over the place. Our two young 'guides' could tell us nothing about Tiger Hill, and continued to play with their in car stereo whilst Fernando and I walked up the track, squeezing between cars and jeeps until we reached the top. An ugly radio/tv mast dominated the pinnacle, a shabby concrete shelter stood off to the left. The horizon was a think purple haze caused by the polluted Indian air. Over two hundred Indian tourists watched in excitement for over 45 minutes, gasping when the sun finally peaked over the hazy pollution. Fernando and I prayed for the sunrise to come quicker. It was the greatest anticlimax ever. We looked to our rear, where the mountain range began to light up..... It was the first snow capped mountains I'd seen since snowboarding with Amanda 3 years ago.

The city from a better angle....

We headed back to the jeep. 15 minutes later we were at the War Memorial. There was no information as to what, where, who or why.... Another great disappointment. We returned to the jeep a few minutes after having departed. No driver, and no drivers' best friend. Our two young chums were in a local cafe gorging on breakfast. We sat and waited. Once again they could shed no light on the war memorial.

Ghoom Monastery was nice.... Better than the sunrise and the war memorial..... By 7.30am we were returned to the lodge.

Unusual House in Darjeeling.... I just like the look of it....

Little Ghoom Monastery Monks

We wandered in to Darjeeling to use the internet to find out where to go or what to do. After half an hour we decided to head to a little hill station called Kalimpong by bus later that day. Having made plans we walked uphill for 10 minutes to Glenary's, a famous tea and cake shop from the time of the British Raj, it was quite a hike from the bottom of town. Before we arrived I realised I was lighter than I should have been. I'd left my camera bag at the internet cafe. I ran all the way back down through the hectic town. My bag was waiting for me behind the desk. I walked all the way back up to Glenary's where an excited Fernando was ready to take his first sip of fresh Darjeeling tea. He works in wine, he's all about tanins and delicate aromas. As far as backpacking through India goes, delicate aromas are few and far between. Usually more robust and foul smells fill the nasal passages in this country. We drank a pot of tea each and shared a huge dry fruit cake between us. I continued to feel worse.

We jumped in to our shared jeep at 1pm. Kalimpong was a couple of hours away, so we factored in three. One guy let me have the window seat as I was feeling so nauseous. There were four grown men across the row The seat was sized to accommodate three. The driver leant on the door to allow the latch to catch, holding me firmly, wedged in place. I hung the top half of my body out the window. As I hung out the window Fernando made himself comfortable on my back catching a little nap. We bounced our way through the hills as waves of nausea continued to wash over me.

The driver refused to apply the brakes preferring to use the screaming engine to slow the vehicle. We were both surprised that the engine survived.

We arrived in Kalimpong. Again we were slightly disappointed. It looked much like Darjeeling. Smaller possibly less hectic, but it was still larger than we anticipated. We found a room, paid slightly over the odds and went for a wander. After half an hour I had to give up, heading back to the room. I felt truly terrible. I was aching from head to toe and was suffering some nasty stomach pains. At 4.30pm I crashed down on to my mattress, out for the count.

When I woke at 7.30pm Fernando and I chatted a lot about life, death, love and lots about Amanda.... At 9.30pm I fell in to a fever filled sleep bursting with strange dreams. The next morning I felt much better.

Kalimpong was not what we wanted, we both realised we should have headed straight from Varanasi to Nepal, but there was no point in regrets, we just booked another bus and headed back the way we came, then onwards to Karkarbhitta, the immigration point for Nepal.

My Travel Gear....
Not alot!

We jumped on a local bus at 1.45pm.

At 5.30pm we were being stamped out of India.

We weren't sure what time the immigration point closed on the Nepalese side, and Fernando was becoming increasingly stressed. The bridge spanning the river was rammed with vehicles of every sort. Moving between them was almost impossible. Any tiny gaps were plugged with motorcycles or bicycles.

We arrived at immigration hot and sweaty with Fernando also little bothered. There was no electricity at immigration. They were working by torch light. We completed our paperwork. I opted for the 30 day visa (determined mainly by a previously booked flight) costing $40 with Fernando hitting the big time with a 90 day visa, costing $100.

My Nepalese visa runs out on the 11^th April (my birthday). My flight out of Nepal is the 21^st April. The mathematicians amongst you will no doubt have picked up on a slight issue here. I'll deal with this in due course.

Karkarbhitta like so many border towns is a frontier town full of tatty hotels, and shops selling rubbish. There is absolutely nothing to see or do.

Fernando was feeling rough, and didn't want to be rushed in to making a decision about getting the 4.30am bus to Kathmandu the following morning. He was feeling weak and irritable, with a bad stomach to boot.

We secured a little room, cosy enough for two beds. We headed downstairs to eat something simple and to enjoy a celebratory beer to mark our arrival in Nepal.

We hit the hay early. Due to a million very hungry mosquitoes I didn't see sleep until after 4am. Fernando also endured a rough night.

That morning we decided to book the 12 hour 'deluxe' bus at 4.30am the following morning, rehouse ourselves and basically chill out for the day..... Neither of us feeling 100%.

So here I am stuck in Karkarbhitta, the good thing being I have a good travel companion in Fernando. I may well stick with him for the trekking in Nepal..... We'll see if our plans match up.

Amanda would have enjoyed Varanasi, but she would have greatly disliked the past 4 days of hard travel for nothing. I have to say I would have totally agreed with her.

Bring on real Nepal, the mountains and the fresh air!

Varanasi - The City of The Burning Ghats

Varanasi, described to Amanda and I during our travels of India as smelly and filthy certainly lives up to this description, as do many other India cities which escape such scathing criticism.  I don't think the recent title of 'The Armpit of India' from a mid fifties guy in Hampi was fair.

Bloody huge cow!

My only regret about being here in Varanasi is the fact that we were so easily put off by the opinions of others.  I think Amanda would have found this place intriguing.  She would have enjoyed the narrow streets that reminded me so much of the souks of Marakesh in Morocco and the Ganges river flowing alongside an almost Venetian style front.  When I say 'almost' I mean

EPIC TRAIN JOURNEY TO VARANASI

Recently lots of unusually positive occurrences have frequented my travels..... Small, almost insignificant some would say. But I continue to visualise my day to day wanderings as I'd like them to turn out. Seeing them as already having happened if you will.

I rose early on my last morning at Goan Corner in Hampi. 6.15am to be exact. It hadn't rained during the night which made for simple, clean and easy tent and mat packing.

I ordered a monster breakfast of two boiled eggs with wholemeal toast, banana porridge and a cup of ginger lemon mint tea to set me up for the journey ahead telling Chamilla that I would return to feed on her wholesome fare after my invigorating cool bucket wash.

I needed to be at the river crossing for 8am to ensure plenty of time for reaching the train station 10am. Bus connections didn't always go according to plan, and I was unsure of how frequently they ran to Hospet. Maybe I'd get a rickshaw if there was someone heading my way. Faster and straight to the train station door.  If I shared it would only cost about 80p.

Ross, Quinn, Esther, Vanessa and a few others who hadn't said goodbye the previous night or left the previous day came out with hugs to send me on my way. I mentioned to Esther how great it would be if one of the guys had a motorcycle. It would save me a 12 minute walk to the river crossing.

Ross (Scottish guy who literally lives a few miles from the Point of Ayre (Northern tip of the Isle of Man) came over to wish me good luck, and then

Hampi - Boulders & Star Trails

I arrived in Hospet after a very long but relaxing bus journey from Gokarna.

From here I shared a rickshaw ride to Hampi with a couple from South America. On arrival we began to research rooms. I wanted internet access and was willing to shell out a little more for one night with room based wifi. I was also very tired and was therefore willing to spend a little more than usually on accommodation. I settled for £6.00 with 'bathroom' and wifi. When I rose early the next morning to use the wifi I find out to my ever so slight annoyance that the guesthouse wifi actually belongs to the internet cafe below which does not open until 9am. I paid an extra 50% for wifi. Typical India. You have to love the enterprising nature of the locals.

That morning I headed across the river.... eventually...

The first three little visits from the passenger boat on the otherside returned empty each time.

There was one boat/family taking passengers from, and one taking to. Maybe a union of the two businesses may make things more profitable? Definitely more efficient. They don't always see the obvious here in India.

On the 2 minute overloaded ferry ride a girl commented on my matching shorts and backpack colours. Pure coincidence I assured her. She was from Belfast, and was recovering from a bout of Typhoid, which had her laid up in hospital for 6 days. Nasty. She also told me about a girl she met in hospital, now great friends. She had an infected spider bite. Whilst the medics operated to gouge out the infection, the electricity failed and five mobile phones were shone over the offending wound so as to shed enough light on the situation. This lady was left with a hole in her leg that could easily accommodate a small glass marble. Debbie led me to 'Goan Corner' a kind of tourist resort for rock climbers and folks wanting a base to explore Hampi. It's mainly young folks, lots of couples in fact. I asked about pitching my tent and 10 minutes later my shelter was erect.

Once again I've met many good hearted people. Though it is definitely a younger crowd more set on the socialising scene. People aren't getting drunk, but there is a definite whiff of 'pot' in the air.

Each morning I rise at 6.20am and head across the paddy field up in to the rocks to enjoy a yoga and meditation session. Danny, a 29 year old scouser (from Liverpool) usually joins me. Though the last couple of mornings I've headed up alone.

My Yoga Mat at Sunrise..... Solid!

The main past time here is 'bouldering'. Guys and girls head up in to the boulder strewn landscape with thick mats strapped to their backs. They then attempt to clamber up huge boulders using just their fingers and toes. No ropes.... Just a mat. They don't climb too high, but I feel 6 feet is too high when your landing could potentially be broken by thousands of year old granite. It's sharp and hard. I headed up in to the boulders with a likely crew a few nights ago. It was fun, difficult and

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.