Christmas in Agonda

Our seabird overnight sleeper bus journey from Mysore to Canacona started off rather pleasantly. On the exterior the bus itself looked a tad rundown but on the interior me and Allison had ourselves a nice double bed where we thought we would be able to just chill and relax for our ten hour journey.

But chilling and relaxing wasn't on the agenda. The bus basically turned out to be a parcel delivery vehicle that also transported passengers so not only did we have to pick up passengers but stopping for long periods in the middle of nowhere to load the bus was commonplace. Long parts of the journey felt like the bus was off roading as we kept going over bump after bump. Then there was the winding mountain pass where Allison's nerves started to get the better of her. It was at this point we figured out that there was no advantage to laying flat on a sleeper service and would have probably been better off on a semi sleeper as when the bus went round a left turn we would both roll to the right, a sharp right turn, we'd roll left. Left, right, left, right we rolled. A major consolation to me was that if we had crashed laying flat my feet and legs would take the brunt of the impact and not my head and face. Crash, bang, broken ankle and leg, not broken skull n brain. There was another consolation, because of the constant stopping our ten hour journey turned into a thirteen hour journey which under normal circumstances would have really pissed us off but this meant we arrived in Canacona at 06:30 am instead of 03:30 am. The chances of getting a lift to Agonda at that hour would have been almost impossible.

We arrived at Fatimas guesthouse after an increased rickshaw ride fare that neither of us were prepared to argue over as we were too tired from our extended journey.
Fatimas for me was like a home away from home, I'd spent a month staying here last year whilst doing my Sampoorna yoga teacher training. It was one of the cheapest places to stay in Agonda and as we were on a budget (not necessarily a tight budget) it was good for what we needed, a bed to sleep in, or so I thought. Now there are some really nice beach huts right on the beach facing the sea here in Agonda, beautiful in fact, so Allison naturally wanted to take a look. Our first morning was spent looking at other accommodation. The majority of this other accommodation is over quadruple the price of ours but it is the festive season so why not splash out? But its also the first month of our one year away so we have to be a bit careful. So now we're involved in a Mexican stand off. Basic Fatimas or plush beach hut? I amazingly came out on top this time round, I don't know how but I did. If it was the end of our journey and cash flow wasn't an issue, no Mexican stand off would have occurred and we would have splashed out and stayed at H2O facing the ocean.

On our second day here I'd decided we should hire a scooter as its the easiest way to get around and visit the different beaches, restaurants and take in the sights.
The sequence of hiring a bike here is quite strange in regard to the way you would do it back home. You ask someone, anyone that you want to hire a scooter, now they either have a bike or no someone that has one. This guy Chetnan had one, we discussed the price, £2.50 per day, he gave me the keys, I took his mobile number, then rode away. No money, no ID, no passport, no nothing?

It was the eve before Christmas. We rode a scooter down to Palolem in the afternoon and had a nice Pizza in the restaurant Magic Italy.
When the evening came we had established ourselves at a table by the Cuba beach huts. Allison always out for a bargain had noted that they have happy hour between 6-8pm. What better way to watch the sun set than with two Caprioska's  for £1.80, bargain!

We remained at Cuba for dinner and both took delight in getting the waiter (unbeknown to him) to continuously repeat crispy Squid as he kept pronouncing it crip-sy Squid and for some reason it sounded hilarious.
After dinner we went for a stroll, we purchased a fire lantern on the main strip and headed to the beach. I held the lantern whilst Allison tried to light the fire lighter that was held in place by some metal wire underneath. Her trying took too long for this impatient man, so knowing I could do a better job and actually ignite the lighter we swapped rolls after some persuasive words. I held the fire lighter and 'plop', I had managed to pull it off the wire and it fell straight into the sand, getting absolutely covered. Not only that but when it had finally cooled off enough to put it back in place on the wire, Allison mentioned I hadn't even pulled open the lantern enough for it to fly. She opened the lantern fully and it swiftly sailed into the night sky. My delight in watching the beautiful lantern float up into the air was marred by my unmanliness to actually figure out why earlier the lantern was nosediving and not flying.
After our maiden voyage we stopped off at Simrose beach huts to listen to some entertainment. An Indian guy was singing cover versions of Christmas songs. Both our personal favourite became his Shaking Stevens number 'Merry Christmas Everyone'. He wasn't a bad singer and to our joy he would add a letter to certain words which would make the song more amusing, so for instance 'every' would become 'wevery'. "Merry Christmas Wevery one", "Children playing (change the H to a W) Wav-ing fun".

His rendition of Wappy birthday that he sang for someone was the last straw and we left to head back to Fatimas.  

It was strange being away at Christmas. I'm not a big fan of being away from blighty during the festive season but thought now I'm older it won't be such an issue. I was wrong, I had no Christmas spirit, in this heat it didn't feel like Christmas, I needed some cold weather, an open fire and a dodgy jumper to put me in the spirit of things. Watching endless adverts on TV and a definite over expenditure on food and alcohol would also have helped with my bereft of Christmas atmos.
I awoke on Christmas morning feeling like today is just like any other day. Tommy's little belly was rumbling and needed feeding. Allison wasn't getting ready fast enough for Tommy, so Tommy threw a tantrum. Throwing my toys out the pram due to feeling hungry wasn't necessarily the best thing to do on Christmas day but don't we all revert back to being kids at Christmas? Allison's thoughts of a nice breakfast on Christmas morning were swiftly eradicated by my mood and when I also chose the wrong place to eat. Her omelette was filled with loads of melted cheese and had the effect of making her feel sick, my pesto panini were two ordinary white bread rolls filled with pesto. The day wasn't improving and I had to take responsibility for my actions. A nice trip on the scooter to turtle beach to make amends was in order. I've not known Allison to get travel sickness but being on the back of the scooter with the constant twists and turns and the cheesy omelette sloshing around in her belly only amplified her feelings of nausea. At least she managed to forgive me for a while as we took a nice stroll along the gorgeous beach.

A selfie in the sun with our Christmas hats. (She may be smiling but at this point I had only been partially forgiven)

Turtle beach 

A couple of days after the hungry belly incident we were on the beach at Agonda and I asked Allison what she was reading on her Ipad, "an article about emotional immaturity" she replied, "so you are doing some self development" I responded, as I don't know anyone who's emotionally immature I thought. "Emotional immaturity in men, Tom". I had been told! The realisation of me behaving like a nob wasn't a new concept to me, being a nob had happened on numerous occasions but I couldn't use the normal excuse of being stressed or feeling tired as we were in paradise without any worries and I hadn't worked nights in nearly a month, although if I'm honest I hadn't slept well for a couple of nights.

Boxing day turned out to be a better day for both of us. I managed to keep little Tommy in check, the toys stayed in the pram and my adult self reigned supreme. After the disappointment of breakfast on Christmas day I took Allison on the back of the scooter, sans nausea to have breakfast at Space Goa where she had a delicious smoked salmon with scrambled eggs. I was redeeming myself from the previous days hiccup.

The next stop on the scooter was cola beach.

After that we visited Cabo de Rama which is an old fort a little bit further north along the coast. We wandered round the site taking in the Banyan trees, views and practising some yoga postures in precarious positions.

Allison and the Banyan tree

A view from the fort

Striking a crow pose atop the battlements.

On the 27th we basically decided that we weren't going to do a lot and spend the day relaxing on the beach. We had dropped the scooter off the evening before so had no plans whatsoever.
We chilled out at the H2O restaurant as it made Allison feel like we were partially staying there. At lunch I broke my vegetarianism which I was trying to sustain the whole time I was in India apart from a bit of fish now and again by eating some chicken. I didn't like the chicken very much, probably because it didn't have campylobacter and my body can't process a good healthy chicken. You don't really need to eat meat here as the majority of the dishes are vegetarian and taste better than their meat counterparts anyway.
In the evening we went for a meal at the roadhouse bar which is at the north end of Agonda beach. It is owned and run by a group of Nepalese guys who are doing their first season here.

We had a plate full of seafood which included a whole tuna, prawns, king prawns and squid. Everything was great about the evening but the only thing I regret is sharing two bucket mojitos and not just having the one.

The 28th was all about another day of relaxation, hangover minimising and the fruit bat tree. There are a couple of trees at the north end of Agonda beach which are covered with sleeping fruit bats and come dusk they start to slowly wake up, start screeching at each other and then take to the sky's in search of mangoes, bananas and other fruits.

If you are ever here it is well worth paying a visit to see the bats as they start to awaken and go off on their nightly hunt for food.

  

One week in Mysore

The journey took eleven hours. Eleven hours of relaxation and sleep, for Lilli and Allison maybe, but for me like an idiot previous to getting on the bus I read that the railway network here is the most dangerous in the world but is considerably safer than using the buses as nearly 135000 people died on the roads here in 2010 and more deaths are occurring each year. Now as you may know in previous posts I am not very keen on how the Indian people take to the roads. I don't want to continuously go on about this but pedestrians, cyclists, motorcyclists, bus drivers and lorry drivers, I'm sorry if I've left any particular demographic of road user out but they all seem to have a death wish! And I was a tad nervous on this 11 hour overnight semi-sleeper bus service. My vision out of the front of the vehicle was obscured by a curtained partition. There was a gap in this partition and it would have been better for me if there wasn't this teasing little gap. Every glare from every headlight coming towards us, to me was a potential crash. I pictured myself embedded in twisted metal and some little Indian man cutting me out of the wreckage with the jaws of life, that's even if they have them here which I'm doubting they do. They believe in reincarnation here so its not a problem for them if they die in a collision as they can go on to bigger and better things but for me I'd be fucked.

We are staying at the Mystic School in Gokulam, Mysore. There is the Mystic cafe upstairs where they serve delicious home cooked Indian food. 150 rupees for lunch which is approximately 1 pound 50 pence for a buffet. Eat as much as you like! It would have been Bob heaven! Bob my dad who's sadly passed away was a connoisseur in finding the cheapest buffet he could, it didn't matter how good the food was just the price and that he could fill his tardis of a belly, for a skinny man his appetite was immense. I don't think he ever found one for that price and especially not with that standard of lovely food. The food is incredible here. In England cauliflower is one of the most boring vegetables, cauliflower cheese is the most exciting thing we can do with a cauliflower and it is a rather tasty dish I might add but these Indians can do the most amazing stuff with a cauliflower. They can conjure dishes that are out of this world. Deep fried cauliflower with a dipping sauce, Gobi Manchurian which is fried cauliflower with a spicy sauce. I could eat it every day here, at home once a week is more than enough.

Have you ever seen anyone going through cold turkey? Well I can tell you its not a pretty sight. At first they start fidgeting, they then get headaches, they can't sleep and are basically stressed out and tense. Well imagine the joy I felt when Allison finally found a gym and could have a cardio workout. So many things to see here in Mysore but the only sightseeing my wife wants to do is to see the calorie counter on a treadmill. Cardio vascular exercise, Allison's drug of choice.

Mysore is the birth place of Ashtanga yoga. In Varkala me and Allison attended a Hatha yoga class. Now the difference between these two styles of yoga is simple. Let me draw you an analogy, Hatha- your having a lovely relaxing Sunday stroll taking in the beautiful scenery. Ashtanga- this stroll that your on turns into a sprint away from a group of skinheads that have come around the corner and decided they want to kick your arse and you don't want your arse kicked so you have to keep on running in the opposite direction no matter what!
On our third day here we found an Ashtanga vinyasa class that started at 08:30 in the morning. Ashtanga with Raghu. Now don't get me wrong I do like doing yoga although I find it frustrating at times, to me it is a type of torture, a battle, a war. Not of two tribes going against each other but this personal battle that happens between your own mind, body and soul. For me the experience seems to jump between meditation, frustration, happiness and of course anger. Anger at how shit I'm doing. The Indian teacher is extremely good and his flexibility is great and he can hold the poses with ease. I on the other hand have the flexibility of a board and with his slight adjustments of my body I want to challenge him to a running race. Nothing too far, perhaps just a 5k, just enough to rub his face in his inability to keep up with me. Yes my Indian friend you can bend over and see your own backside but can you beat me in a race?

I've had this cold more or less since we arrived and it seems to die down and then rear its ugly head again. I awoke to a snotty nose, cough and the thought of remaining in bed and not going to the 08:30 yoga class again this morning. "Oh come on, challenge your ego" Allison said. Nuff said, out of bed, teeth brushed and of to the class we trot. On arrival I asked Raghu if we could do a Hatha class, as I've I mentioned earlier its less intense and the way I was feeling would have been better for me. Not only that the day before he asked us what style of yoga we wanted, Hatha or Ashtanga. Yesterday I was feeling hard, today I was feeling like a wimp. Mistake! I think this soft westerner must have pissed him off, we started off nice and comfortably with some pranayama (breathing exercises) to help with my blocked nose. He then took us through sequences where I felt he was trying to punish me. Hold a posture, my body's screaming at me, I'm holding, waiting for the okay, waiting for times up, waiting to release the pose but I'm still waiting and holding. I'm battling against him, myself, Allison (who's annoyingly actually enjoying the class) and my you've guessed it, the worst one, my fucking ego!  Which won't let me come out of the pose before Raghu says release. "Fifteen more seconds" announces Raghu, my legs are wobbling like crazy, I'm suffering and every part of my body is feeling it "and release". I think his mission was to try and snap my spine as he kept making us do lots of more and more intense back bends, which I'm no good at at the best of times, but as you can see Allison is more than capable.

 He beat me down mentally and physically. There is no place to run and hide in an Ashtanga vinyasa class.

We finally had a trip around Mysore today. Allison managed to get an Ashtanga class in beforehand (sadly I stayed in bed) but had to forego the gym which she wasn't overly impressed about. We hired a tuk tuk for the day which was driven by Saleem and myself I might add. He gave me the opportunity to take the wheel and I thought I can't be any worse than these crazy people.

We had a pleasant walk up Chamundi Hill where a group of teenagers decided to start throwing things at us, luckily their aim wasn't true. After which they wanted their photo taken with Allison, "yes if you stop throwing stuff at us" I said trying to be a polite forgiving gentleman.

Throwing things was the least of our worries as the boy on the left of Allison started to lower his hand towards her breast. Allison not being very accommodating to his advances pulled away and punched him hard. Strangely stunned (according to them apparently its OK to molest women) they scattered and ran in different directions leaving one of his flip flops lying on the pavement (why didn't I launch his flip bloody flop back down the hill?). 

1000 steps to the top of Chamundi Hill, I wanted to walk the whole way but Saleem dropped us off 200 steps from the top and even that seemed quite a feat. 

To be blessed by God the Hindu's walk up the 1000 steps and mark each one individually with bright colours. Some of them crawl up on their hands and knees which can take all day. This ritual doesn't happen once in a blue moon, some of them do it once a week.

      A group of three women marking each individual step, they have about 150 to go.

After the steps Saleem took us to a silk producing factory that made Sari's. The place was government run and no photography was allowed. To see a proper Indian factory with hundreds of looms with hundreds of workers was an experience. The noise was incredible and it was strange to see the majority of workers without ear plugs whilst the minority were wearing a pair. After coming out the noise still remained with us and is was like we had been at heavy metal gig all night. One Sari, two thousand of your British pounds please. Some of them were interlaced with Gold and Silver.

                                  The Maharajah's Palace was next on the agenda.

40 rupees for Indians, 200 rupees for foreigners, welcome! At least I don't feel so bad now when the locals sting you for a few more rupees, I did take it personally but when government run attractions do it blatantly what can you say.  The palace was good but we were more interested in the cows outside. When we left the palace some cows were walking across a roundabout in the middle of the city whilst heavy traffic had to deviate around them. Its weird in a city with a population of nearly a million inhabitants that cows just roam freely.

Our next stop was a place which seemed like someones house where they made incense sticks and essential oils. This little old lady rolled out 6000 incense sticks a day. To do that many she must go into some kind of meditative state.

Our local area of Gokulam is a suburb in Mysore. There are a lot of westerners that come here to do yoga teacher training. Outside our window is like a little farm yard in this haven of meditation and yoga. There are dogs, goats, chickens, cockerels and turkeys just roaming around the streets. When we venture out depending on where the turkeys are situated we may have to take a detour as Allison is not very keen on walking passed them. I have seen them running after a woman and some kids so her fright isn't totally unwarranted. The cocks start crowing at an ungodly hour and mess with our sleep. 

                        The turkeys paired up and looking out for potential victims. 

Allison's Ashtanga experience continued with Jaiprakash, his name even sounded scary, "I'll stay in bed" I informed Allison. A good job too because apparently the class was really hard and he was very strict. There were six people in the class who all bar two (one of which was Allison) could do the whole of the primary series. "Sit this sequence out" Jaiprakash instructed a male student. If I was there I would have been sat down in a corner for long periods with my rigid and taut body. Allison said I would have hated it.

On our second to last day here Allison has found her potential Guru. A small Indian man called Badri. I on the other hand stayed in bed again whilst she went to have an Ashtanga class. With Badri's jovial and positive teaching skills she managed to perform postures better than she had in the past, he focused a lot on the breathing element to enhance and deepen the different poses.

Allison with her potential Guru Badri

I have come to the realisation that my usual competitive ethos towards training cannot be applied to Yoga. The more I push or compete with myself or those around me the further I seem to descend into a tight ball of frustration. I've read that flexibility doesn't come from stretching the muscles, the range of movement improves by your ability to switch off your pain receptors and in doing so you can bend or twist further because you no longer feel the pain. Under anaesthesia your body can be put through its full range of motion. So that's it then! I need a dose just before entering an Ashtanga class so I can contort my body into all those crazy positions they do and not feel a thing. Then I won't feel so useless and won't have to challenge anyone to a fucking race! 

Today we are off to Agonda in Goa to spend Christmas, we are both looking forward to being by the beach again. Another overnight bus journey awaits, great.

Amma's Ashram

Day 1
The afternoon started with Me, Allison and Lili getting a taxi from Varkala to Amma's ashram in Amritapuri. This vehicle was a cross between a rickshaw and a bedford mini van. The journey the driver said would take two hours took a hell of a lot longer.
I still cannot get over the way they drive over here. The way the pedestrians don't flinch when a car nearly clips their leg or takes off their arm. They overtake on blind bends, overtake when vehicles are clearly coming in the other direction, honk their horns repeatedly at needless things then don't bother when it's really necessary. When you come from a working environment where health and safety is paramount and potential hazards are really easy to spot it's so hard to sit in a taxi whilst mayhem ensues around you.
We finally see Amma's ashram in the distance, the sixteen storey tower block in front of us.

On arrival we fill out the necessary forms, passport number, DOB, name, spiritual name? Swami Ali for Allison but we can't think of a suitable one for me. Perhaps by the end of these few days one will suddenly come to mind. We are then given our room key by one of the devotees, by his accent I assumed he was Dutch. The western devotees here all wear white clothes, long cotton white tops and long cotton white skirts for the women and the men. The accommodation is 250 rupees a night, roughly  2 pound 50 and with that food is included (we find out later that very basic food is included).

I picked up some bedding and me and Allison headed off to our room and Lili headed off to a dormitory. It took us ages to find our room as the place is huge and everyone we asked even the ones dressed in the white uniforms had no idea. Allison made a detour to the reception again and actually listened to the Dutch guys directions meaning that we finally found our room no thanks to me and my inability to listen. Our room is obviously quite basic and what I would have expected but I think Allison was expecting something slightly different. I think it was the fact that there wasn't a bed and it was just a mattress on the floor, plus the pillows looked particularly grimey.
We met for an introductory tour at 17:00 where an American guy from Detroit showed us a video of Amma's good deeds and then proceeded to show us round the ashram. He informed us of meal times, yoga class times, showed us where you can meditate and also informed us of that no affection should be shown between couples, public displays of affection are frowned upon here. It must be okay for men to show affection to other men as later we see some locals holding hands whilst walking around the place. I can't get my head round these cultural differences yet. Before he leaves he shows us to where we can get a token so we can sit in line to wait for Darshan with Amma.
Darshan is where you wait in line so you can get hugged by Amma and it's meant to be quite enlightening. I thought when it is my turn with the Divine mother Amma I will ask her to give me more patience but I was sadly to impatient to wait around and get a hug so I went to bed. Allison and Lili held out and sat waiting from 21:30 till midnight. Allison said you could feel her love when she was hugging you. After Allison had received her hugged blessing a devotee asked if she could pass the sweets to Amma so she could hand them out as gifts to the waiting pilgrims. This simple thing is seen as a very honorary task and most people would have jumped at the chance, Allison replied "no, I need to sleep". Bed was a more enticing prospect than serving the Divine mother.
My first impressions of this place is that there are a lot of rude and angry people here. From the guy at the ayurvedic pharmacy chucking things across the counter at us, to a guy refusing to budge on a bench so another person could also sit on it. This place is how I would imagine an ashram to be but on steroids. That all said I think this woman does an incredible amount of good for people in India and overseas so however I view the angry minority is really immaterial, but hopefully my experience does get better.

Day 2
It's not permitted to take photos at the Ashram so taking them can be difficult.
I did some voluntary work today, its called Seva. You are meant to do some to help out the community when you stay. It's only an hour a day so doesn't take up too much precious time. My time wasn't actually that precious here as I wanted to leave but we had booked and paid for a bus to take us to Mysore and it didn't leave for a couple more days (shit) so any time wasting was a good thing.
My Seva consisted of lifting bags of soil from the ground floor and taking them up three flights of stairs to the roof. It was me and an 18 year old Polish guy called Simon who had this task in this extreme humid heat. Whenever I am given physical tasks my ego kicks in and I wanted to beat the young Polish guy in an endurance carrying race he was not even aware he was in. After 20 minutes the Indian woman who appointed us to move the soil said enough was enough and to come back tomorrow. I could have had him, I sware he was tiring!
My competitor Simon-

I had my Indian lunch today so it didn't cost me a penny, there were no spoons available so I had to eat like a native. Just use your right hand to mix up the rice with the curry and shovel it into your mouth. It takes a bit of getting used to and you have to try hard not to get any food down your top.

It is constantly noisy here, recordings of Amma's voice over the tannoy system or loud spiritual music playing. The only respite is the beach where you can just listen to the waves crashing against the shore. But even then your not safe as a man with friends and a guitar can quite easily gate crash your party by a group chant.

My frustration of this place starts to grow and I cannot see how people can find any form of spiritual enlightenment by being somewhere so in your face and noisy. It gets to a point where certain people are even making me feel angry, which is weird when you think I was in a peace and loving spiritual community. 

I decided to take a stroll around the main hall where all the Indian devotees were comfortably sitting there listening to the music. I spot a western devotee in all his white uniform splendour dancing in total bliss and euphoria and I get angry! don't ask me why as I don't even know myself, he just basically pissed me off with his total bliss, adoration and love for Amma. Perhaps I wanted to feel as free as him? perhaps I was just jealous as the only time I have ever come anywhere near that state of euphoria is when I was in my twenty's and had taken a stimulant that made me feel I loved everyone and I could dance all night.

A sneaky shot of my doppelganger, he danced in total bliss and love whilst I hated.

Day 3

I had calmed down a lot from yesterday, perhaps I had started to get used to the constant noise of Amma's ashram.

I promised the Indian woman that I would go back and do some more soil shifting today between 11 and 12. I took my new neighbour along with me Patrukolos who arrived yesterday with his girlfriend from Greece. I thought I would warm myself up gradually with the soil carrying and decided to split a heavy bag into two separate bags to be carried but Patrukolos had different ideas. He took hold of an equally large bag and flung it over his back, the bag then seemed to try and pull him over backwards to the ground but he let go just in time. Ego- I've got this man before we've even started. But the ego was wrong. He hoicked the bag up again, he wasn't defeated and carried it up to the roof. I thought fuck I've got to lift the other heavy one now. My back holds out and I make it up to the top and dump it onto the flat roof. I'm walking back down and I'm now on the ground floor and he's lifting one over his shoulder and he grasps another one in his hand! WTF! He's taken two, I grab two, one in each hand. The Indian woman keeps telling us to stop, he doesn't want to stop and I definitely don't want to stop. We clear the whole lot of soil from the ground up to that roof and another load of soil onto another roof in an hour. No break, just two ego's battling for supremacy. A draw!

To be a Yogi you need to separate yourself from your ego. I'm not doing too well at the moment.

Patrukolos (Fiddler on the roof) with his girlfriend

Allison and Lili's Seva was not as intense as mine. At first Allison was not feeling any kind of work. She definitely wasn't going to clean or do any washing or wiping of dishes so they both decided rather reluctantly on chopping vegetables. How surprised was I to walk passed them later to find them both grinning and actually enjoying this menial task. With the woman singing and the music playing they actually found slicing the tomatoes very therapeutic. 

Between 3:45pm and 4:45pm it was men's swimming hour so I headed to the pool. I met a German man there named Andreas who's Seva was cleaning the leaves from around the pool an hour each day. He was a trusted devotee of Amma and loved her. He made me promise to have Darshan (a hug) with Amma that evening. He said when he had Darshan it was life changing for him, he became enlightened. People come from across the world for a hug with this woman and I must admit I was extremely intrigued. 

The Hug 

Allison, Lili and me each got a token to receive Darshan from Amma, they both wanted a second hug. We waited for 2 hours 45 minutes before we came close to the Devine mother Amma. Just before it was my turn I noticed my spiritual doppelganger standing a few metres in front of Amma with his hands over his heart with a broad smile across his face. Perhaps that is soon going to be me I wondered. It was my turn! She grabbed me close, muttered a few indistinguishable words in my ear and I was then pulled away. I walked off, Allison and Lili were waiting for me as they'd had their hug just before mine. They were waiting for some kind of response from me but I had none to give. I'd just had a hug from a woman and that's basically what it was. A hug, I felt no kind of love or enlightenment and neither had they on their second time round. 

I totally respect what this woman does. She sits on a stage giving hugs out all day long. She was there from 11am till 3am without a break just hugging people. That is some kind of physical and mental endurance. She does a lot of good and she wouldn't be able to do it without the people who have devoted themselves to her. But for me it's all a bit strange and I don't feel overly comfortable there.

Day 4

The last day at the Ashram was the best. Probably because we new we were leaving that evening and heading to Mysore. We relaxed more or less the whole day by the ocean. A beautiful sunset sent us on our way and a crazy devotee doing his devotion yoga to Amma made it all the more a memorable experience.

Holding a picture of Amma in his left hand he does a modified side angle pose whilst his gaze is drawn towards his guru. He would then put the picture down, scream at the top of his lungs, run at full pace into the sea where many signs say 'absolutley no swimming as strong rip tides' and roar like a lion whilst beating his chest like tarzan and punching the waves. In and out the ocean he went, strike a pose, scream, run, beat chest, punch waves.

      

Boom in Varkala

My beard is growing slowly but surely. At least a centimetre more before I am happy with its progression, perhaps when a bit of food gets stuck in it I'll be more at ease with its advancement, until then I'll just have to put up with this stubbly thing I'm sporting.
It will be a week tomorrow when we arrived in Varkala, and at this moment in time it is raining hard and we are sheltering ourselves in the coffee temple. No coffee today, hot lemon, ginger and honey instead. The lurgy that started to rear its ugly head is upon us both, sore head, throat and a chesty cough and no matter how much of this drink I have drunk it didn't keep this cold at bay. Obviously mine is worse than Allison's as everyone knows that colds effect men much worse than they do women.
We both love it in Varkala and the few days that we both assumed we would stay here turned into a week, I could even stay longer but you could end up just stagnating and not moving forward. Tomorrow we are off to Amma's Ashram where our spiritual journey of enlightenment awaits. I'm not sure that it will actually happen as I've heard mixed reviews about the place. A very western kind of Ashram, not so chilled. It has tower blocks for the thousands of pilgrims that descend from around the world to worship with Amma (mother). We shall see, at least it should be interesting.

My Yogi journey finally got underway the other day, yoga with Haridas it said on the sign. With a name like that I had images of Salvador from couples retreat bending my legs back whilst whispering "boom, boom". I was pleasantly surprised when an old, balding Indian guy turned up and taught a Hatha yoga class.

The way he spoke was really funny and at times I wanted to burst out laughing but managed to keep myself in check. "Inhale deepleeeeee" the ee's at the end would be extended and come out in a squeaky manner. "Exhale completeleeeeeee". The way he said relax was great as well. "Relaixx". He would start of quiet at the beginning and then just get louder and squeakier at the end. I wish I could have recorded his voice. 

I had to take Allison to Haridas yoga class today. I needed her to hear the way he pronounced certain words. I caught a glimpse of her a couple of times with a smirk on her face after he said his now famous inhale deeply, exhale completely. After the class he asked her if she could understand him, and she told him "yeah, sort of". Apparently my imitation of him was spot on!

There are quite a few little shops along the cliff top here with Indians trying to sell you T-shirts, dresses, knick knacks and lots of other stuff you wouldn't consider purchasing back at home. One woman somehow managed to get me and Allison in her shop and even managed to get Allison to buy a dress. This could have been somehow to do with her baby daughter who was lying on the floor making us feel guilty about not parting with any cash.

The owner of La Mirban is really nice and friendly and seems to be completely genuine. 

This is the view from our room at La Mirban.

Yoga in Varkala

We are sitting here in the coffee temple in Varkala listening to sympathy for the devil by the stones, sat atop the cliff looking out over the ocean where kite birds (birds of prey) circle the skies above the sea hunting fish which swim beneath them. 

There is a surfing community here and from the different accents and looks of people, they come from all over the world to sample the waves. Apparently this morning the waves weren't that big as my Japanese neighbour told me. I heard him leave early for the swell on his modified Royal Enfield motorbike. Modified to carry his and his girlfriends backpacks and his surfboard. He offered to sell it to me for €1000. I was really considering it but have since chickened out. Perhaps it was the beer I had drunk giving me Dutch courage. It is something I do want to do in the future with a bit more preplanning. 

Other people come here for the weather  and the relaxing ambience of the place and also for the loads of yoga on offer everywhere. 

Allison's yoga journey began yesterday as she and Lili attended a 2 hour yoga class at 09:00. The female instructor was from England and had apparently over 30 years experience. Basically she knew her shit.

I also had the best intentions of starting my yoga journey yesterday. I headed along to the yoga shala at 16:30 to be taught by an Indian teacher. To my somewhat delight it was his day off so headed down to the beach. Instead my exercise consisted of walking out into the ocean till the water was waist height and then running in slow motion up and down parallel to the beach. The current in one direction was particularly strong so even running a solitary metre took a crazy amount of effort. I think I managed 12 minutes of this before giving up and heading towards the shore. "Is that him there, what's he doing"? Lili asks Allison as she points me out as they reach the beach from the winding steps. "He's exercising" replies Allison as she's used to my weird fitness routines.  

The evening consisted of a nice meal with Lili, Fabrizio (Lili's friend), Allison and me at cafe del mar but do not get this confused with the Ibizan version. Only the name is the same, stolen to entice the westerners in. No Jose Padilla playing chilled tunes here. After which we stopped off at Trattorias for hot lemon, ginger and honey, it seems to be the best place to buy this drink here. Fresh lemon juice, chopped raw ginger and loads of honey with boiling water. Hopefully this will help with the sore throat lurgy that's going around. I doubt the big slice of chocolate banana cake I had will help all that much though but what can you do when it's only 60 pence. 

I actually slept well last night at La Mirban for the first time in a week. The rooms are naturally cooler here which helps. 

Varkala

Alicera Ayurvedic resort doesn't look anything like how it does on booking.com. The clean, clear swimming pool on arrival has green algae growing on it. I shan't be getting up early to do a few laps in that. The owner is a woman and is from the Ukraine and understanding her is very difficult. I pay for two nights and the next mornings breakfast in advance. How I wish I hadn't paid for that breakfast. 200 rupees which is basically 2 quid which is nothing at home but over here you can get a really nice breakfast for half the price. It consisted of some fruit, muesli, a smoothie (which were all ok) and some cold dry toast, a slice of wrapped in celophane processed cheese and a teaspoon of jam on the side. Nothing Ayurvedic about it. Allison asked for a milky coffee and got what looked like a cup of runny mud with some thick curdled milk stuck at the bottom of the cup. Apparently it tasted like an oxo cube with a hint of coffee. The room looked and felt like it hadn't been used in quite some time. Dusty floors and dirty sheets.
The redeeming feature was the beautiful view from the steps down to the beach.

Getting down to the beach was a different matter, a long winding staircase had to be overcome first. This of course was not a problem for me but for Allison it was a little to steep and high for her to feel confidant in her descending ability.

Once down to the bottom we were greeted by a beautifully quiet sandy beach with not a soul around.

From South cliff Varkala we made our way to North cliff Varkala where there was more life, more guest rooms and better places to eat breakfast and all other meals. After sorting out new accommodation as we had decided to move down to this side of the beach we met up with Lili at the Juice Shack. Lili is a friend of Allison's who she met at her Tribe yoga teacher training at Arambol in Goa last year.

Chilling out was the order of the day and we spent our time between three different cafes and restaurants via a dip in the ocean.
Whilst I guarded our stuff as Allison and Lili enjoyed the soothing, cooling effect of the sea I was approached by an Indian guy. Coming from London and having that don't trust anyone attitude I was concerned that he was part of a gang out to steal people's cash and belongings. "Your  a very handsome man" he exclaims, has something been lost in translation I thought whilst I laughed out loud. "What's the matter" he asks. Is this guy coming onto me I thought. "Are you gay?" I ask, "no I'm not gay" he responds. Perhaps the men out here just say things like that to each other. I have noticed men holding hands and being very comfortable with each other. They seem to show more affection to their male friends than they do to the women. I'm feeling somewhat uncomfortable and am waiting for Allison and Lili to come and save me. He senses this and and asks if I am bored of talking to him. Politely I say no then hold out my hand for him to shake and say "see you later". He walks away and starts talking to the next westerner he sees. A bearded hippie type who's seems more open to his charming introductions.

The sun is shining, the weather is sweet, Yeah.
       

Alleppey

Man this celebration or whatever seems to be going on here in Fort Kochi is crazy. At 04:08am, I know it was at that precise time because I checked my watch. Firecrackers like machine gun fire followed by explosions going off what seemed like right outside our bedroom window. The night before these sounds to me and Allison were actual machine guns and mortar bombs, our guest house was coming under attack by roving Jihadi terrorists looking for a skinny pale westerner to behead (Allison needn't have been worried) but at least tonight we were prepared with the knowledge that it was just a sound to pronounce the start of their working day for a specific celebration they were having. Perfect timing for our stay as the next night the celebratory alarm clock was ceasing as their festivities were over.
At 08:00 when Allison's iPhone alarm sounded I felt like my head was full of mushy peas. I coaxed myself out of bed and we went downstairs to meet Lauren and Jesus for breakfast.    
We got a taxi further down south getting stuck at a train barrier for 35 minutes whilst heading for our trip on the backwaters of Alleppey . I felt like I was melting whilst waiting for this single train carriage to pass by. Even the locals were getting impatient never mind me who struggles at the best of times especially in this hot, humid, sweaty weather.
On arriving we were shown to our houseboat, we had to trudge through two different boats until we reached ours. On inspection it looked nice and clean and was captained by an Elvis Presley looking Hindu. Second in command was a young looking man who had a moustache that was thick and black, who any man sporting one for Movember would be proud to have grown such a tache.
We cast off and headed out onto the backwaters, the calmness and serenity was soon followed by the urge to get some alcohol and to stem our hunger pangs. Elvis and Tache took turns navigating the boat and helping out in the kitchen to get our lunch ready. Our fresh fish and vegetable lunch was served with roti, (nothing like Mavis's though) without any alcohol. The alcohol selling laws out here seem rather strange.  We made a brief stop to pick up some snacks and were stung for 3 bottles of beer. We paid (Jesus paid) English prices. They must have seen us (Jesus) coming.
We supped beer, played blackjack and Jesus ate snack upon snack after snack. I think the correct term is he had the munchies.
After dinner and a bottle of rum which Elvis went to buy on his scooter after mooring up, Allison, Lauren and me sat chatting whilst Jesus said he had to go and take a nap. A Mexican nap sure lasts a long time as we didn't see him till breakfast. Que Pasa Hombre.  
We were up at 08:00 for breakfast and then dropped off the boat in the middle of nowhere. A Rickshaw finally pulled up at the bus stop we were waiting at and took us into town. Travel arrangements made we both headed off by train on our respective journeys. Lauren and Jesus to Mysore via Ernakulum, me and Allison to the beach at Varkala.
After some heated debate on the train we arrived in Varkala. The Indian gentleman wasn't keen on the History of us Brits ruling their country a few years back. If you ask me i don't blame him but I wasn't born at the time and nor was Allison.

Me, Jesus, Hindu Elvis and Tache

Fort Kochi

Bags found and delivered and friends arrived, the official beginning of our year away begins.
Kerala is a fusion of food, laws, religion and with us four travellers, ethnicity's.
Whether your religion includes bowing down to Mohammed, dancing around to Lord Shiva or praying to the man they call Jesus Christ, every religion is respectful to the next. But I would ask one favour, can you stop letting explosions and fire crackers off at 04.30am trying to out do each other with the start of your new religious day.
Lauren (half Mexican, half American), Jesus (full blooded Mexicano man), Allison (born & bred in London but parents hale from Guyana from African and Indian Descent) and I (English but with a weird mix of English, Scot, Jew and Italian) are here drinking our hard sort after alcohol. You have to search high and low to  find alcohol here, apparently its not so hard to find weed as Jesus takes a toke on his pipe.
Our day in Fort Kochi is coming to an end. Tomorrow we head off to Allepey and our houseboat on the backwaters of Kerala. Calmness and serenity awaits.

Lauren & Jesus with mandatory mosquito spray and empty Black label beer.

Some say it's good luck but I think Allison wouldn't agree after the bird had diorreah (excuse if spelt incorrect) on her head.

Allison's fusion of Keralan food.

Mean tree!