Sri Lanka part dos

Kandy is the home of the 'Temple of the Tooth'. A revered Buddhist temple that houses none other than one of 'The Buddhas' teeth. Yes, one of the main man's Hampstead Heath. It found it's way there by way of a princess smuggling it wrapped within her long hair. For such a relic many people would have killed to have it in their possession!

Temple of the tooth

On Sri Lankan New Years day we visited the temple along with Ishara and her parents, all dressed in our breathtaking white attire which is the preferred colour for visitors to wear, however not always adhered to by tourists and Sri Lankans alike. I would have chosen another colour as my white clothes in my opinion make me look like a nob, but alas I wanted to be respectful so wore what look like my white pyjamas.

The nob in his temple attire

Busy, busy, busy, the temple was packed with devotees awaiting a glance of the awe inspiring tooth. I'd decided on not bothering to ascend the stairs to have a look as people young and old were practising their shoving skills to climb the steps faster. Allison and Ishara whisked me up regardless and it was worth the crush. You don't actually see a tooth, it's a golden shrine in which the tooth is housed.

The tooth hidden in it's shrine surrounded by the masses

Later that afternoon Ishara's dad did a traditional boiling over of the milk ceremony from a clay pot to bring prosperity in to the new year. After the milk has boiled over it is then added to rice to make delicious milk rice. After the blessings we sat down for a meal, mainly consisting of Sri Lankan sweet foods.

Ishara's dad sorting out the table

The next few days were spent driving around the countryside taking in the scenery. After leaving Kandy we headed to the beach, stopping en route at Polonnaruwa to take in some of the cultural history of Sri Lanka. We then continued to the beach for one night before exploring the other cultural sites that Sri Lanka has to offer. 

Ancient temple in Polonnaruwa

Our budget took a hit with the beautiful beach front hotel Anilana in Pasikuda that Ishara found. Fuck it, we thought as we supped down well needed cocktails by the infinity pool in front of what seemed like a heated Indian ocean.

Cocktail o clock

Infinity and beyond

After Ishara dropped us off at Sigiriya she departed and headed back to Colombo to continue her job like normal people do after a holiday.
Sigiriya (The Lion's rock) is an ancient palace built on top of the rock nearly 200 metres high.

It was 10am, the sun was already high in the sky and the temperature was rising rapidly. We had plenty of water and weren't bothered about our fitness levels hampering our way to the top. The only thing that would stop us, or more importantly stop Allison, was her phobia of edges, and Sigiriya definitely has them in abundance.

The edge

Remarkably any hiccups were few and far between on the ascent. I was amazed at Allison's speed, we made it to the top in half an hour whilst having to wait for others, as in places the path is incredibly narrow.

At the top covered in sweat!

Descending was a tad more difficult, as you can see in a photo above, you are right by the edge, just held in by a ropey looking railing. Of course I was not bothered by this death defying drop to our right but Allison had to use a technique of trying to look to the left whilst stepping down. I even told her to shut her right eye so she couldn't see the drop, which may help although might make her more prone to actually slipping and falling. She is still alive and made the descent with relative ease considering how I've seen her in the past with lesser edges.

The very same day we headed over to Dambulla to visit the cave temple, and we both came to the conclusion that Sri Lankans love steps! After conquering the 1200 steps at Sigiriya we now had to climb the lesser 364 up to the cave. We climbed and we sweated, astonishingly we still had fluids left in our bodies to be able to sweat as the heat was intense.

Cave temple, Dambulla

Inside one of the five caves  

The following day Anuradhapura was next on the itinerary and we arrived after a packed hour and ten minute bus journey that was surprisingly pleasant even though we had to stand all the way, when in Rome.

We decided against paying to see the ancient temples as it was beginning to become expensive and our main aim was to visit the ancient bodhi tree. It is said that a cutting from the tree in India where Buddha attained enlightenment was planted here! It is recorded as over 2000 years old.

The Sacred Bodhi tree

Our tuk tuk driver for this site seeing tour around Anuradhapura was a big man, a big scary man. Had we made the right decision by getting into his vehicle we both thought, giving each other telling glances as he sped us around the free sites. The first stop was a set of rocks he thought we might be interested in. Either that or he was going to bludgeon us to death in this remote place. What the hell has he taken us here for we both thought, as looking at a few rocks isn't that impressive. Take a picture he told us, and we did as we were told and took a photo of a rock.

A Rock!

I kept my eye on him as he herded us around the rocky spot. Thank god, a couple were seated within our view so killing us at this point would have been rather stupid.

Our initial thoughts of him being a mass murdering psychopath were wrong! He turned out to be one of the good guys and we are both still alive and not lying face down dead in a ditch.

Our tuk tuk driver with his dead eyes 

Being in a slow cooker isn't pleasant. Well, I mean a bus in Anuradhapura, Sri Lanka, awaiting its departure. The sun is beating down on the hot tin roof, "I'm melting!" Expressed like the wicked witch of the westside in the wizard of Oz. It feels uncomfortable in this cooker, we are dripping with sweat, my gonads are hot and sticky, a nice salty glaze has been applied to these pieces of fresh meat. The natural air con kicks in as the bus finally departs and the breeze starts to flow in through the open windows. We can begin to relax, or can we? At least Allison can for the moment as she's by the window and I am acting as a barrier to the passengers in the aisle. I however have a guys groin rubbing on my arm. Is this normal Sri Lankan bus riding etiquette, I think to myself? I know we are crammed in but surely he can get his cock off my arm and move his pelvis a couple of inches to the right, right?

He's moved down to his next victim on the packed bus

He finally senses my disapproval and backs off, that or he's finally relieved himself and shifts down the aisle to find his next victim, a woman this time round, aha, he's a bisexual.
Allison's relaxation diminishes when the loud dodgy music begins to play. This bus has a multitude of speakers recessed into the roof with extra bass bins built into the luggage racks, and we were lucky enough to have one of these bins right above our heads. Boom, boom it went for our three hour journey.
We arrive in Trincomalee, headaches in full effect, find a tuk tuk, or the tuk tuk finds us and we head to our guest house 'Bella nilaveli beach' in Nilaveli. Relaxation is finally bestowed upon us by the beautiful sight and sound of the ocean. Some say this area is cursed, the Tsunami hit back in 2004 plus the civil war ravaged on nearby for 25 years only to finish in 2009. Now me and Allison have rocked up wanting feeding and lodging.
Samira our host is a local man, he previously worked in Paris waiting on people, you can tell as he has the local laid back vibe but still maintains a European efficiency which is rare in Sri Lanka.
Not much is to do here which we both like, cos neither of us want to do sweet F A. Relaxing on the beach then a swim in the sea and repeat, Interspersed with a Lion beer (the local brew) now and again. Holiday, celebrate, this did actually feel like a holiday rather than hard work as sometimes travelling does.

View from our room

Early morning view

The food that was prepared at Bella Nilaveli by the cook was amazing, a sweet older woman that didn't speak a word of English, we could communicate with her by pointing at things and the expressions on our faces. Our favourite meal that she made was a kilo of prawns we shared, so big, succulent and incredibly meaty. We've never had its equal.

Fresh

Samira, the cook and the gardener all helping out in the kitchen

Gallery cafe, I had dreamt about this place since our first day here in Colombo, Sri Lanka. The food is amazing and the cheesecake is arguably the best I have ever tasted, hence the six weeks of dreams. Me, Allison and Ishara turned up on our second to last evening with two certainties, number one, consuming tamarind chilli martinis and two, eat double chocolate cheesecake! Both were accomplished, so we all left extremely fulfilled and happy with ourselves. What away to end our time in Sri Lanka. Thanks to our great host Ishara, her parents and the amazing country of Sri Lanka.  

We shall bid you adieu Sri Lanka, Ishara and Browny the cat (the most spoilt cat in the world). Until next time.

Browny on her thrown 

Kia ora New Zealand

   

Sri Lanka

Hot and humid but clean and orderly were some of the first things that came to mind as we settled in to our time in Colombo, Sri Lanka.
We were lucky enough to have an old friend that lived here to make us feel at home and show us around the city. I had known Ishara from when she used to live in London. She had worked in a bank but decided that her life was going to take a new pathway so made her way back to her place of birth.

Ishara and Allison

To really feel at home Allison needed a gym, and from the moment we arrived this was the only thing that was on her mind. Arriving at 2am and finally dropping off at gone 4am, the last thing on my mind was searching for a gym in over 30 degree heat with high humidity after only a few hours sleep. A day of rest perhaps? Perhaps not! Surely, you've gone over 2 months without a gym, what's another day, right? Wrong! We searched online, we searched outside in the searing sun, rang around and asked people, but to no avail. The very next day we continued the search refreshed from a proper nights sleep and Allison managed to find a gym to do her cardio sessions in, so she was rather pleased to say the least.
Crosstrainer, stepper, treadmill and even the bicycle were not free from her frenetic onslaught. Poor machines I thought, they'd definitely need some maintenance after she'd been taking out her pent up lack of cardio sessions out on them. Although the cardio machines weren't impressed with her training intensity, the staff were, and she got an offer of a job to teach some classes. Sadly she couldn't take them up on their offer as we were going to spend the following week practicing the ancient art of meditation.

Whilst we were in Colombo we wanted to use our time up productively on our spiritual quest. What better way than to spend five days at a Buddhist Vipassana centre, learning the art of deep meditation. Ishara took us to meet the head monk, she'd previously let him know that two westerners were interested in Buddhist philosophy. We turned up not knowing what  to expect, we were questioned about our knowledge of Buddhism and meditation. Allison had a fair bit of knowledge having practised a Japanese form of Buddhism for many years, I on the other hand owned a fancy dress Buddhist robe but that was about it. The robe was a secret santa present bought for me by someone at Clerkenwell fire station, it didn't actually look to bad on me, if only I'd known beforehand that I would be spending some time in the presence of monks I would have bought it a long. Having passed the initial test we were told to come back on Monday where our daily ritual of four hours of meditation would begin? "Four hours", we both said, "you can have breaks in between" Ishara interpreted from the wise old monk.

Monday came and we begun our first foray into metta meditation. Are you sitting comfortably with your eyes closed?, then I shall begin. Repeat after me, I wish myself to be happy, I am happy, may I continue to be happy. I wish myself to be healthy, I am healthy, may I continue to be healthy. I wish myself to be peaceful, I am peaceful, may I continue to be peaceful. This process continues by spreading your positive thoughts not only to yourself but to your loved ones, friends, even to the people you dislike and the rest of the world. We sat, we sat some more, we did some walking meditation in between our sitting, but man it was tough. My legs were aching, my mind was doing its usual stuff of battling against itself, but we were steadfast in our attempt to maintain this four hour marathon meditation spelled out by the wise old head monk.
Tuesday, much of the same really, sitting, trying, willing some deep inner peace to suddenly come crashing through, but just glimpses of moments of calmness.
Wednesday turned out to be a strange day.  We were introduced to a different monk by a volunteer member of staff, I think they thought they were doing us a favour as this monk could communicate in English, sadly he was mistaken. This monk seemed a bit strange from the outset, not long after we met him he said he we was going to take us to his retreat that weekend for a few weeks, "we already have other plans" we told him, but he seemed to ignore our remarks.
He then began to tell us of how meditation can get you to higher levels of satisfaction than sex. He kept mentioning the penis and the clitoris whilst using his fingers to demonstrate, using one we gathered as a small penis and the tip of another as the clitoris. He then thought it was a good idea to do rubbing motions with his fingers against each other. We weren't really sure of what he was doing but it was all a bit surreal. At one point he asked us where we thought our minds were, "is it in your head, is it in your heart, is it in your vagina?" he said looking at Allison. That's a new one to me, the mind being in the vagina? I know us guys think with our nobs but I thought women were different. We eventually escaped the weird monk when someone knocked on the door, we both stood up, thanked him for his insightful talk about meditation and left his room. We then both went back to the hall and started meditating, I was determined to reach them levels of satisfaction he was talking about.
I felt sorry for the monk, he must have had many years of pent up frustrations and probably saw all westerners as sex mad. I suppose a lot of us are but who in their right mind would want to shag a bald ugly monk?
Thursday, we didn't let the previous day diminish our meditation effort and lucky for us it was the most productive day. I managed to sit cross legged and not move for an hour and get to a state that I was feeling energetic and aware but incredibly calm and serene. I was bought back round by a loud tapping sound that signified the monks lunch time. Allison however was in it deep, the lunch time tapping, even the builders drilling through walls in the same building didn't bring her back from her supraconcious state. An hour and a half went by until she came out to where I was sitting with a really annoying calmness about her. The first thing that came to my mind is why the hell couldn't I go that deep in my trance like state! Totally the wrong attitude if you want to be able to successfully meditate.

An emaciated Buddha       

After experiencing the city of Colombo we all headed into the beautiful Sri Lankan countryside to stay at The Plantation Villa. The Plantation Villa is an Ayurvedic retreat where people come to deal with any ailments they might have in a more natural way than in the west, in a relaxing, natural environment. It is set in an old rubber plantation that the colonising British planted many years ago, I mean the Brits got their slaves to plant.

The Plantation Villa

  Rubber plantation

The Villa is owned and run by Ishara so giving me and Allison the opportunity to utilise our now redundant yoga teaching skills. Having been away from home for four months we needed to refresh our teaching practice and use some of our new knowledge learnt in Rishikesh to add to our classes. Teaching a class a day each gave us ample opportunity.     

We would enjoy giving each other feedback at the end of either of our classes. What began as quite hurtful to the ego then began to be rather funny. I would even give myself damning feedback by calling myself a nob. I'd started to use these descriptive airy fairy words and sentences in my classes that didn't come naturally to me. At one point I just said "listen to the rain", in a matter of fact way. I thought to myself of course their listening to the rain, as its coming down so bloody hard. I offered no enlightening words after that, I just sat wondering what I should be saying next. Hopefully the guests didn't notice and found my words really profound and heart warming. Well I know someone noticed, as soon as the class had finished Allison begun the usual feedback discussion by taking the piss out of my dire use of descriptive words. 

Downward dog on the beach, not far from Plantation Villa

One of the guests at the villa was a little bit different from all the rest. Reggie made himself comfortable in the roof space and would come down after the sun had come up, as soon as his body temperature had risen.

Reggie the monitor lizard, a metre in length from nose to tail

The food at the plantation is incredible, everything is organic and grown on the land, even the Cinnamon is from the tree in the garden. The jackfruit curries were amazing, you'd see the gardener climb the tree and knock one of the huge fruits down, later the same day you would be eating it. We have never eaten such fresh food in our lives. 

  The huge jackfruit

On one of the days following the morning yoga session we headed off to Sinharaja rain forest. On arrival with only a small amount of time we made our way into the forest with the compulsory tour guide.

One of the rain forest inhabitants.

Because of a lack of time at Sinharaja, we made the hour and forty five minute journey back there a week later. This time heading deeper into the forest.

Blood suckers! Leech on Allison's leg

Allison and Ishara kept having run-ins with Leeches, the little blood suckers would somehow get on their legs or through their trainers and enjoy a tasty bit of human blood. Five minutes wouldn't go by without one of them stopping and finding leeches on their feet and legs, they would then quickly find a leaf to pick them off.

Our compulsory guide was little to no help with the leech epidemic, even forgetting to let us know that they sold leech socks at the entrance. At least he was sorted with his canvas pair, I think my hairy legs must have kept the majority at bay. 

To our dismay the heavens opened as a thunderstorm ensued. Allison asked the guide if he was using his huge golfers umbrella which he was using as a walking stick. He ignored her and then proceeded to shelter himself from the torrential downpour leaving the ladies to get soaked, not even a, "we can share, come under here".

A soaked Ishara and Allison. Our paid guide behind sheltering from the rain

The day before we left Plantation Villa we had a day trip and went Whale watching off the coast of Mirissa. It was an incredible experience watching the Endangered Blue Whales and their feeding habits. They are the biggest mammal that has ever lived on planet Earth. That fact always enthrals me, over double the weight than the largest dinosaur, that's if you believe in Dinosaurs as I know some people don't?

Dive!!

Leaving the relaxation, calmness and staff of Plantation Villa will be a test. Our journey has now moved on and we are now in Kandy.

The staff of Plantation Villa 

 Roshan, the masseuse with magical hands.

Village life, Nehinna, near Plantation Villa. Some people have a lot and some people have a little, but still manage to smile!

Laundry day, Nehinna, where's the washing machine?

Nehinna village, a guy out for a run wearing flip flops, who needs Nike?

    

Holi Rishikesh

You know it's not the best idea to self diagnose your illnesses. I do this from time to time and it often makes me feel worse than what I actually am. It usually gives me the sense of impending doom.  Right now I have a parasite swimming along inside my gut somewhere, happily eating whatever food I supply it. "Dinner time", I shout just to let him know his food is on the way down. How do I know this you ask? Well, I took it upon myself to look on line, Doctor Tom can diagnose any ailment at the touch of a button.
Unlike when we were in Mandrem and I was projectile vomiting, this time I had running water from my backside! I also kept doing these eggy flavoured burps. So I check online and what do you know, diarrhoea and sulphur burps = parasite. It couldn't be anything to do with the fact I hadn't eaten eggs for ages and demolished a couple of fried ones the day before, no that couldn't be it. It couldn't be just a mild bout of food poisoning that caused the water from the rear, or could it. Perhaps Doc Tom got his diagnosis wrong. Maybe I'll have to say goodbye to my little friend Pete the Parasite for now.  

The next morning the tap had stopped running. Allison had gone out leaving me to regather my strength. She walked into world war 3, Holi festival was in full swing with powdered paint being thrown from all angles. She came back looking like an artist had used her face as a canvas.

"You have to come out", she said, I realised that experiencing Holi festival is a once in a lifetime opportunity, "Ok, let me get ready" I responded. I had to man up and use ancient yogic energy techniques to help me through the celebrations. We left our hotel, Allison looking like she was already a part of the shenanigans, whereas I was as clean as a whistle. I approached some locals to ask if they could put some paint on me so I could fit in better. They smeared my face with paint powder and then proceeded to throw buckets of water over me. I was unaware of the water component to the celebration up to that point.
I was now looking more decorated and feeling more confidant to walk down into the fracas, but still had to catch up with the work of art that was Allison, which didn't take long at all. We couldn't get 10 metres without someone approaching us to smear our faces with paint. For some reason they like to get it right in your face, smear it in your ears, up your nose, even in your eyes as Allison will attest to.
The main square was now becoming deserted and all that was left was the aftermath of the war, people covered from head to toe in colour and water. Our walk continued with minor skirmishes breaking out every so often, paint in the face, water over my head, then more paint in our faces.

We made it to the Nirvana cafe alive and in one piece, but I was soaked through as I hadn't managed to dodge the buckets of water being thrown down from the rooftops. Perhaps Allison's police training enabled her to evade any incoming H2O because as far as I could see she was as dry as a bone.
We holed up for a while with some hot drinks and waited till 2:00 pm, apparently it all calms down by then, after a quick recce we decided it was safe to be back on the streets and went to get some food at our favourite lunch time haunt, Rawat. They serve cheap thalis there, both of us can fill up for 2 pound 50! And then they still ask if you want more dhal, rice or chapatti.  

Rawat reigned supreme for a fast, cheap and healthy meal.

A leopard can never change his spots, I'm not really sure about that but I'm guessing they can't. But I'll tell you something I do know, they eat cows! And I know this because I saw the carcass of one that a leopard had decided to tear off it's head. Sergio, a fellow traveller was in his room and heard crazy sounds coming from outside late at night. The next day the owner of his guest house took him to the spot where the leopard had dragged the dead cow. They both took me a long the next day, "keep an eye out, just in case its still about" the Indian man said. "Do they eat humans" I asked, "yes, lots" he replied. What the fuck am I still doing here I thought. There are a number of human deaths, and only the week before a girl was killed by a leopard not too far from where we were.

Poor Cow! Beheaded by a leopard.

Three day Pranayama course with Swami Sachinand we read on the flier. Our thought processes of should we or shouldn't we go were made all the more easier by the fact Lilli had done the same course the previous year and said that its not to be missed. 

Our first day started with some brilliant old school 80's aerobics combinations which had Allison beaming from ear to ear. I sware she thought she was back at the Brixton Recreation centre in an aerobics class, but this time it was a magnificently bearded swami instructing the class and not a lycra clad woman. After our warm up we went through some gentle yoga postures followed by some breathing exercises and confidence boosting games. Day two and day three all begun in the same fabulous manner as day one, however the Swami's kriya breathing techniques were added in to these two days. Being sworn to secrecy, all I can say is check out www.artdivine.org and globe trot if necessary to experience this amazing course.

Swami Sachinand & crew

Me and Allison hadn't attended an Ashtanga primary series class since being in Mysore, now with waining physical strength and losing muscle tone fast, we felt it necessary to try and jump back on the more physical style of yoga band wagon. Kamal Singh's name had been banded about Rishikesh as one of the only people to teach this style and he came highly recommended by a number of people. 

"Breathe, breathe, hissssing sound", he would state aloud in time with our movements. It reminded me of an MC at a rave getting people geared up to dance harder and faster. He had this aura of arrogance about him, like a Yogi rock star if there is such a thing, all dressed in white riding his motorbike wearing his ray bans.

Kamal, without sunglasses and riding a strange looking motorbike. 

Alcohol had not passed either of our lips for over five weeks, were we missing it? Yes and no. Yes because it's been a major part of both our lives for such a long time, and no, because it's illegal in Rishikesh and as such there are no adverts or shops or bars which sell alcohol so you haven't got constant reminders of what you are missing.
Goodbye India, hello Sri Lanka. We have now left India behind and are now in Sri Lanka with lots of things to see and do, but first up on our agenda, taking in some colonial beauty? Looking at the gorgeous wildlife? Nope, alcohol, how sad are we.

Beer & a Mojito please, and make it snappy!

Rishikesh

We were both tired and had to contemplate one more train journey for at least a little while on our Indian travels.
Train journey-
Agra Cantt to Haridwar, a ten hour daytime journey, leaving at 10:50, arriving at 20:55.

The train pulls in, we both see our sleeper class cabin is packed to the brim, so we accelerate down the platform to find that 3AC cabin we should have booked in the bloody first place. We're thinking that these two feeble westerners can't handle a packed 10 hours of sniffing piss again in such a short period of time.
There are 8 different classes of travel on the Indian railways network, so being from the west we needn't have to travel in sleeper class, we can step up to that 3rd rung on this complicated ladder to 3AC where all the middle class Indians settle down for their journeys.
We find a carriage and hunt up and down the aisle hoping for an empty couple of seats. "Are these free" we enquire to a group of women and children, they shake their heads. Does this mean yes or no, we think to ourselves? Shaking your head here can either mean yes, no, or a myriad of other things, we're still not quite sure what a shake of the head means, if anything at all. We search on thinking that their particular shake of the head means no. We ask someone else, they shake their head, this shake of the head we are guessing means yes. We place our luggage below the seat and wait for the ticket collector, being unable to relax until we've seen him as maybe he'll throw us back in the packed pissy part of the train. After the upgrade payment we can finally relax and actually enjoy the journey.

Our final destination for this part of our journey is Rishikesh for our 300 hour yoga teacher training course. The opening fire ceremony is in two days time and on arrival we have initial feelings that it is not looking very professional. We'd paid $700 deposit between us and the day after we arrive they want the rest of the money, another $2200. Erm, we think not! The day before the course kicks off we bring it to their attention that we are not happy doing a 300 hour course with the 200 hour students as we have both already attended 200 hour yoga teacher training programmes. "Give it 3 days, the course can then be tailored to your individual needs" say Doctor Sushil and Deepak. "Okay we'll give it 3 days and pay then if we are happy to continue". We've both kind of already made our minds up but have to be open to the fact that we haven't actually participated in any of their training yet. We are in the birthplace and yoga capital of the world, how bad could it actually be?
The answer is BAD! and not the Michael Jackson meaning of bad, not bad meaning good, but the oxford dictionary meaning of bad, or our meaning of bad, "shit".
The first class we attended we were doing advanced breathing techniques, without any instruction on how and what we were doing, the second class we attended, was the worst asana yoga class I had done in my life. Even worse than a class I attended in Forest hill which said it was yoga but what it actually was, well I wasn't quite sure.
One day of this was enough. I had come to the conclusion that I had kissed my deposit goodbye, it said as much on their website, "no refunds"! Allison for that matter chose to ignore that part of the script and was not about to say Adios to her deposit. We had a meeting with Doctor Sushil and she managed to get $200 out of him! After leaving she still continued her harassment via email and gained a further $200. Her deposit and some of mine has now been returned.

The confusing opening fire ceremony

There is so much Yoga happening here in Rishikesh, but after our initial disappointments, who do we trust and where do we go to do some yoga training?
A conversation in Tattv cafe with a Nepalese guy takes us to Yogi Pramod. A Rishikesh native (not a charlatan, and there are many here) who's been bought up from the age of 4 in local Ashrams but now teaches people the true art of yoga. The old ancient art that is passed down from guru to disciple, leave all materialistic things behind, love everyone, and look inwards for true clarity. We then had to part with our hard earned cash to be able to learn this old fashioned method. Our first impressions of this new style of yoga was, what the fuck are we doing here! Our yoga practise back home was generally a powerful form which generated, heat, sweat and enabled us to work out whilst having a good stretch. Now this was slow, even lethargic, but after day three we begun to feel the benefits. It was energy inducing, it was all about opening your chakras (energy centres), releasing and opening your spine. In layman's terms, you hold a lot of stress and tightness whether from injury or pent up emotions from the base of your spine all the way up to your skull. With his alien type of breath retention and spinal opening postures, you can release all that built up tension. We were both feeling lighter and even I started to feel more supple until my tooth started to hurt like hell!  

Allison & me collecting our certificates from Yogi Pramod, only white attire allowed in his yoga hut whilst practicing

I couldn't sleep, the pain was unbearable. The next morning I set off in search of a dentist. Aeran dental, a complete solution to all your dental problems the poster proclaimed. I went there, had a consultation, a couple of x-rays and boom, I needed a tooth extracted and a filling! With that he wrote down a price for the work that needed doing. Thanks but no thanks, it was more expensive than getting it done back at home, and we're in the cheapest country on earth!
Later I asked the guru Yogi Pramod if he had any information on dentists. He informed me of Dr Chetan Rayal. I went to this little local Indian dentist to perform my tooth extraction with Allison to hold my hand, it was less than a third of the price of Aeran dental. It was an altogether quite scary experience only made worse by the total lack of any form of sympathy, he ripped my tooth out then told me to get up, pay and leave, "come back on Monday so I can check", he mentioned whilst pushing us out the door.
He was actually quite a character and although quite rough, worked fast and I'd recommend him if you are ever in need of a dentist in this part of the world.

Dr Chetan Rayal, on my next visit I managed to catch him for a picture.

Rishikesh is a very spiritual place, it has three distinct areas, the town, then Laxman Jhula and Ram Jhula, both separated by two long suspension bridges. There is a plentitued of Ashrams here and the place became famous when the Beatles descended down their own spiritual paths and attended Maharishi Mahesh's Ashram to do some Transcendental meditation. I think they had got bored of taking acid and wanted a more natural high.

John, Paul, George, Ringo & Maharishi Mahesh

There are many sadhus (holy men) here. They give up all their worldly possessions and spend the early hours of each morning meditating and doing their holy rituals. At 11:30am they congregate outside an Ashram and queue up in a surprisingly orderly fashion and wait to be given a bhang lassi. A lassi is a yoghurt based drink, the bhang is that this particular lassi that these holy men are waiting for everyday is laced with marijuana. They drink their vitamin rich lassi and for the rest of the day sit spaced out in different areas along the Ganges. "Hari Om" (a very respectful greeting) they say as me and Allison walk passed. Metal tins are usually close by their sides, so any spare change you may have will help them with either some food or spliff, either, or, whichever they need most which is probably spliff. Not a bad life me thinks.

Characters out of a J.R.R Tolkien novel they are not, these are Sadhus or holy men

Talking of holy men, yesterday we attended a free Satsang (question & answer session) with Mooji. Now Mooji isn't your usual spiritual guru, me and Allison found it easy to relate to him. Perhaps it's because he was born in Jamaica and raised in Brixton from the age of 15. Or maybe it's just that he's down to earth and doesn't mince his words. His sister Cherry Groce was shot by police in 1985 sparking the Brixton riots.

Mooji

The whole question and answer session was interesting and highly amusing at times. From a woman who had found enlightenment and wanted to share it with everyone, to a guy that wanted to end it all, Mooji had some sound advice to offer. Sadly me or Allison couldn't think of anything to ask and left just before the end to get a seat at the amazing juice house.

A huge bowl of fruit, curd, muesli & honey from the amazing juice house

Allison and me in familiar surroundings of the juice house

Allison marching across Laxman Jhula bridge

The holy Ganges runs straight through Rishikesh

It's not only women that like to shop, apparently cows do too!