My 28th Year

I started my 28th year in whale watching in Albany, Western Australia on a road trip with my very best friends .

In the last 12 months I:

• Have progressed my career from Personal Assistant to Senior Program Manager
• Was thrown out of the Belaggio Casino in Las Vegas
• Flew over the Grand Canyon in a helicopter
• Sat silently in the Nevada desert with 60,000 people and watched a temple burn to the ground
• Belted a stranger with a cricket bat
• Drove down Santa Monica Boulevard and partied in the Hollywood hills
• Flew out of an American airport on September 11
• Went to NZ during the Rugby World Cup
• Illegally drove around the South Island of NZ
• Got bogged in a campervan on a remote beach (got rescued)
• Ate a whitebail omelet (seriously it was gross, I don't recommend it)
• Kayaked through the Milford Sound on a sunny day and up to one of the worlds largest waterfalls
• Drove a 1940's Brittish battle tank around an obstancle course
• Fired my first high calibre weapon
• Floated 4km down the icy blackwood river on a rubber tube bought at a petrol station for no good reason
• Went fishing with no bait
• Snuck into my friends parents house and slept in the spare room when my friend wasn't even there
• Went out in Northbridge wearing a tutu and a top hat
• Was in an on-stage sword fight
• Was unanimously elected the Treasuere of the Board of Directors for the company with whom I started as the temp receptionist
• Flew business class to Singapore for free
• Had high-tea at the Raffles Hotel in Singapore
• Ate $180 worth of breakfast
• Had my photo in a Magazine
• Rode a dirt bike for the first time
• Decided I want to spend the majority of my life in WA
• Made love in a jacuzzi
• and fell in love with the most amazing man in the world who just so happens to love me back.

Not a bad year of life.

Waterfalls n natures n stuffs

So uhh... i drank a bunch of wine and have had a kindof big day climbing up nature stuffs. So overall - yesterday sucked the big one because we were meant to go beach camping but bad weather came in and we couldn't go. We went to the beach anyway and mum had a swim and i got caught in the rain.

Today we went to a quarry which was full of gardens and some waterfalls and beaches and more waterfalls and an orchard. They were all maximum extreme pretty natures.

A good day if not an awesome one. Here's some pictures.

Waitangi

Today we decided it was finally time to tackle the greatest challenge presented to us as Australians visiting New Zealand. Maree's driveway.

You see, in order to live in a fabulous treehouse with breathtaking view of harbour, ocean and forrest one must get up high and in order to do so. Maree and Ian have constructed the worlds most terrifying driveway. Complete with twists and hard pounding blind turns, this 500m long atrocity includes dizzying inclines that had the 4WD grasping for grip in 1st gear. But in order to make it to Waitungi - or anywhere in life ever - we were going to have to take the proverbial - if slightly literal - leap.

Maree lent us her trusty Subaru. (Pronounced round these parts as Soo-BAR-oo) we typed our destination into the GPS and i put on an adult diaper. We made it safely down the drive and before ya know it we were on our way to the Waitangi treaty grounds.

Now the Waitangi Treaty is in my opinion a grand thing. A thing that makes me like these kiwi birds more than most people in the world. Its a document that in words far more eloquant and official, says "Dear england, ner ner ne ner nerr you pissy girly pants with your shiny brass buckles can't beat us, can't have our land, but we'll let you come stay at our place so you don't look too bad infront of ya mums".

So we drove out there to give a respectfully belated, psychological  'high five' to the tribes of the Maori for doing what every other country in the world never had the hakas to do.

It was one hell of a windy road though and I must admit the (actually ficticious) adult diaper was handy. Gearing up and down like a boss we flung that soobs around those moutainous corners at 100k's per h and boy was it fun! Also, I got to drive the whole lot as mumsy doesn't actually know how to drive a manual. A skill i only actually picked up about 12 months ago.

So yeh. We went there. It was pretty. We saw a nicely contrived yet still thoroughly entertaining 'cultural show'. Hung out in a cafe that had eels in its pond. Yeh... Eels. blergh. and on the way home we went to a cave that had glow worms in it which was freeekin ace and went for a bush walk through some really nice trees n stuff. The cave had eels too. really freeking big ones. Incidently glow worms are really cool and the glowy bit is essentially fluorescent poop. Falling stars in a glow worms cave means lots of closed mouths and a quiet little cave hike.

Ok thats it for now. tomorrow we're going to the beach and will probably do some more stuff and I'll tell you about that then!

here's some piccies:

sorry no glow worms. they are light sensitive and I didn't wanna give them pink eye.

Aotearoa - The Begining

Well I apologise frends, a packed schedule and limited internet availability meant my burning man odyssey never made it to the www. However, I've been stationary in my home city of Perth for 5 whole months working and making on eo fthose career thingies the other kids have and prepping myself for a little 2 week jaunt into the land of the long white cloud Aotearoa or New Zealand.

I've been here for 2 days. having departed Perth on the good ol' red eye flight we hit Sydney at the lovely time of 6am Thusrday morning. After dragging our sad butts about the airport for a while we found a nice quiet bit of carpet and as I am finding is becomming a travel tradition, curled up on the airport floor with a shirt on my head and had a snoozington. 2 hours later we awoke bleary eyed to the amusment of the Sydney airport staff who were arriving for work.

A few more hours were wiled away and eventually we made it to check in onto an Aerolinas Argetinas flight to NZ. Now, my delightful mummy booked these flights and didn't really do her research so was not to know that Aerolinas Argentinas is South Americas most budget airline, and has a rather sturdy reputation for letting their planes fall abruptly out of the sky. Also, we found ourselves seated next to not one but two new born babies. Ohh it wasn't looking good for the likes of us. But would you believe it? That delightful plane of ours stayed airbourne for all the time it was planned to and those babies chuckled and gurgled hapilly the entire peaceful way! The gods of travel had smiled upon us and our journey was christened with a grand beggining. We had touched down in Aukland and our friend Maree was there to meet us.

Maree met my mummy in Thusrday Island and these two adventurous nursing gals had bunked down together during the Queensland floods last year. Thus forming a life-long bond of friendship that included the delightful perk of free-visiting accomodation - which even extended to close family such as daughters. So Maree whisked us up to her super groovy home designed and built tree house in Whangarei about 2.5 hours drive north of Aukland.

We promptly drank a cuppa ate some diviiine pecan pie and passed out.

the next day Maree and her husband ian took off to work and mummy and I entertained grand plans of exploring the sights of Whangarei. Infact what we did was lounge about in a couple of hammocks for the better part of the day reading our books and marvelling at the views. Maree came home and we went exploring on foot for a bit before tramping out to the local pub for some grub.

Quick update

This is just a quick post so you all know I'm alive and well. We are having far tooo much fun and I am completely shattered. You will have to hold on for more stories. Sorry! ZzZzzzzzZ

T-minus 1 and counting...

With just 1 more sleep till lift off things are getting very twitchy in the toes!

But first lets look back a little on the journey thats lead up to this point.

It started on Xmas night 2010. I was at a friends house after yet another exhausting 40 degree Christmas filled with mixed emotion and over consumption and I'll admit I was miserable as all hell.

I'd just moved back to Perth from 10 glorious months living alone in Broome. I was broke, really broke, living in my dads spare bedroom on a single i didnt fi,t in working as a data entry temp when i could get work, and my dreams of becomming a fashionista enrepenour had taken a turn for the complete fail.

Enter Helen.

Helen and I have known eachother since our nerafious meeting one hungover saturday morning back in 2001. We've been good friends all that time but we've never been back-pocket-buds. Helen was feeling a bit dreary to on account of a story thats not mine to tell. And as you do - with a good friend - we got to talking about ways the world could be a better place if everyone wasn't just a bunch of jerks. And as we together day dreamed about a utopian world where money didn't matter and your job and car were not the difining factor in your identity; (Areas in which Helen and I both were failing badly), we both touched upon the festival of Burning Man. We'd heard about it a bunch of times from wide-eyed associates who espounged ideals of a world of art, expression and community. A place where you could be exactly as strange as you wanted to be without having to show photos of your kids and discuss mortgage prices.

And a bottle or two of champagne later we'd made a commitment. We'd go to the 2011 Burning Man Festival in Nevada. We'd get ourselves jobs and get our shit together. We'd embrace our inner wierdo for the next 8 months and psychicly slap any jerk who thought they could hold us back from reaching our utopia.

And that we did. We've spent months improving our careers so we could afford this extravagant little expidition in such a short turn around.  And we've spent many a weekend sampling our BM costumes and wistfully streaming Burning Man Radio and California dreamin' through the rainy winter months.

We've put together a killer itinerary with the support of our beloved American compadre Tim who will be meeting us when we step off in LA. And tomorrow... tomorrow we take off - tutu's packed -  in search of a better world.

First stop Aukland.

6 sleeps till lift off!

This is just a quickie post to get this little baby up and running again. Above you'll see the map of the Californian coast with some points marked out. Those are the travel checpoints for myself and the devine Miss Helen on our Road Trip extravaganza of America.

Its late at night now and its taken me hours to redesign this new bloggie so I'm off on some z's but stay tuned kiddies! Nadia's getting Tribal again!

I explain more about this poor fella later:

Getting it going again...

So my last post could easily be understood as the 4am ramblings of a depressed travel-aholic who had subscribed to following the suggestions of influencial mature types hustling their 'security' focused idologies.

Its OK though. I'm back in the game.

Watch this space...

Party Town

Well I'm in GOa,. I arrived here a few days ago and hung out with great UK couple who I met in the North. They took off a few days ago for Nepal and since then I have been wondering solo around the town. Staying in Calangute (the main tourist section) has been interesting. Its about 2 weeks before the tourist season kicks off so the town is pretty dead. I spent a night alone in my hotel room reading, not feeling safe to explore alone at night. The next night i went down to the hotel bar called "the Log Cabin' just for a change of scenery.

there I met Glenn the barman, his friend Riss the Indian boy from the English style restaurant next door called "The Chippy" and a taxi driver called Umesh who goes by the nickname UK. The three boys were terribly upset that I would be all alone and have no plans for my evenings in Goa their party town. And so Umesh took me out to a place called Bardays to sing kareoke. There I met lots of locals who were still relaxing together before the season started.

Goa seems to have a load of english people living here. They work in England 6 months of the year and here 6 months and live a pretty good life. I met a gay couple who are the owners of the famous Paradise Nightclub a gay party goers mecca and a few others who own bars, cafe's and restaurats. I had a ball singing Kareoke with them including dancing the night away with a gorgeous 6 year old girl who was so excited to have someone new and fun to play with. We stayed till stumps and I promised to meet them again soon before I left.

Yeterday i went to the Mapusa (pron Mapsa) markets to do some exploring/shopping. I WISH i had taken my camera because it was really extremilly interesting and I managed to while away quite a few hours (and dollars) there.

In the afternoon i met with a guy called Max who was organising the final adjustments on some summer dresses I'd had tailored in town and then spent the afetrnoon chillaxing and sharing yarns with Glenn over the downstairs bar.

Ramesh came to pick me up at 8 and we went out to a place called St Anthoy's, a beach front bar and restaurant. Much to my surprise Ramesh had arranged for a romanticly candle lit private table in a closed off section of the bar. It was nice to be dotted over but not long into the meal Ramesh was pouring out his heart as the lonely bachelor in a town of love and I realised this was a well rehearshed tactic. Ramesh told me all about this fabulous beach about 2 hours drive out of town and asked me if I wanted to go visit there the next day. On further enquirey I found that he wanted me to stay in a beach shack and, as it would be too far to go and come back, he too would need somewhere today... Perhaps he could stay with me in my room...?

The penny dropped and although the food was great the night lost its flavour. We went to a kareoke bar and met up with more locals for a sing along but by 11pm I wanted to go home and plans to spend the day together the next day were cancelled.

Today I changed hotels to a place called the Bougainvillia Hotel in Anjuna (the famous hippy part of town) and am tossing up weather to hold fast on my promise to meet those first night locals at St Anthony's for Jeffs birthday party and you guessed it... more Kareoke or to stay in my nice hotel, play a game of pool and watch TV alone...

We shall see....

As it is, tomorrow Im gonna hire a motorbike taxi and explore the northern beaches for the day. Still loads of fun to be had!

Spices Plantation and Heffalumps in Goa

Me and my good friend Babu


Buffalow soldier?




This is a distillary for making cashew based alcohol called fenni . Tastes like pure rocket fuel if you ask me!

I'm in Goa!

I arrived in Goa yesterday after a gruelling 2am to 2pm journey from Chennai. After getting off the plane I waiting, as is usual, for my luggage. I became frustrated after a while thinking "gee I bet mines going to be the very last one through" but alas, as it so turned out, mine did not arrive at all!

After chatting with the airport staff and a few frantic walkie talkie conversations it turned out that my luggage had arrived safely in.... Bombay... DOH!

They told me they would sort it out and I did my best to be relaxed and jovial about the whole thing. So far I've learned in my travels that most people will go out of their way to help someone who is kind to them when they stuff things up.

So I went into Goa, found my hotel and checked in. I've met up with some great friends I met in the North of India and we went out for dinner. When we got back to my hotel, there was my bag! In the lobby! they had got it onto the very next flight to Goa and then couriered it for me. How sweet!

I've changed to a different hotel today called Hotel Crossroads on Calendute the main strip of Goa. Its only 700Rs (around $18AUD) a night which is a bargain for Goa and although fairly basic has everything i need including lovely clean sheets on a DOUBLE BED!!! The beaches here are crap despite all hype and I think I'll avoid them and take the next few days to go elephant riding, d a bit of shopping and exploring in other ways.

I'm happy and feeling safe and confident. I'm really looking forward to seeing my loved ones when I get home but am also really relaxed and happy here.

Goodbye to a friend

Together we have walked streets in 8 countries and countless cities. We have waded through jungle wet marshes, climbed to the highest peak of mountains. We've sweated it out in the desert and shivered in blizzards and snow. We've been through a lot together, but alas it is time to wave a final farewell to my beloved and favourite pair of travelling pants! *tear*

Vipassana 10 day Meditation Course

"But what do you want?" asked Loren my oldest and dearest friend as we sat in her courtyard supping on a painfully strong spiced spirit drink she had picked up from some monastry in Southern Mongolia. "What I want... is to be without want" I said smiling internally at having made a profound yet very true, statement in the presence of someone I deem infinately more atriculate than myself. I took a sip from my glass, grimaced, shivered and sighed. There it was. The dream for my future in one sentance.

I had just told Loren that I intended to quit my stable, rewading and interesting job the following day to go to India. She, as a good friend does, had invited me around to get ridiculously drunk and explain my sudden and unprecendented reallocation of priorities.

And here I find myself. I've been in India for 5 or so weeks and more importantly I've spent the last 10 days observing the complete silence and lifestyle of a Vipassana monk in an ashram called Dhamma Setu just 80kms outside of Chennai in India's South.

I starated to write a lengthy account of my time in Dhamma Setu in this blog space but as I got into it I realised, that for the most part it would bore the the pants off you (and not in the good way). Below are some anechdotes from my time there. Its still pretty long but I did my best :o)

The South Indian Shuffle

This is the unique toes out, knees out, lurching, zombie-like stumble of the meditator who has been sitting cross legged for 2 hours without pause. Chorused by the grinds, clicks and pops of audibly enraged joints this activty is best performed with ones fist firmly planted in support of what appears to be a now perminently hunched spine.

Papaya Day

For 4 days our diet remained identical. A gluey flavour de-riched semolina mush, overcooked rice and vegitable curry-like mush for breakfast and lunch and a popcorn like substance with a banana for dinner. On the 5th day the evening meal contained a slice of papaya. Now, I've never really been a banner waiver for papaya. To me its always been a fruit that occasionally comes in 'tropical' flavoured things and used to be free when I worked at a fruit and veg shop when I was a uni student in NSW. But after 4 days of sensory deprivation that papaya was a source of unrivalled joy. I trembled with delight as the sticky juices flowed between my fingers and down my palm. When that sweet frangraced flesh hit my mouth. Such delight! Such an ecstacy of sensation. Ahh papaya day. What a day!

The Conviction of Colin McCurley

Vipassana meditation aims to focus the mind on the natural vibrations of the body. You find that the body has stored many experiences and memories in a phsical way and has learned predetermined ways (though past experience) to react to situations in life. Often one stores a 'Sankara" which is a craving or aversion experienced in the past which the body remembers and continues to react to when new situations arise in life. Sensory deprivation and continuous focus enables one to become in tune with these vibrations of the body. A simple example might be, if someone is bitten by a dog in childhood one can develop a sankara or aversion to dogs and so may become frightened and flinch when they hear a dog bark or panic when one comes towards them even if its not vicious. These Sankaras influence our decisions and reactions and essentially cause us mysery at a core level. Vipassana gives you an avenue to unlock th truth of these sankaras and through meditative control and by reeducating the body's reaction one can stop a sankara from cycling out of control IE After years of the minor aversion to dogs compounding, the person can no longer leave the house and is panic stricken at the thought of going outside or becomes hyseterical when walking past a park.

When you meditate you can use what is called a meditation 'cell' which is a toilet room sized room with white walls where you sit and are not distracted in any way. This should help one focus the mind. When i stepped into my cell sat down and closed my eyes a panic hit me. "Prisoners belong in cells. murderers and rapists belong in cells!" and although I knew there was no lock on the door and my exit was not barred I found myself a sobing whimpering mess within a few minutes and even cried out for my "daddy".

I was shocked by my own reaction having even worked in a prison a few years back i had no idea why i would panic like this. The next day when meditating my mind was racked by a violent rape scene and again I was shocked. I had never been raped nor had i ever witnessed a rape! What was this memory? And then through further meditation the realisation hit me The Conviction of Colin McCurley.

I was 20 years old and worked an evening shift at a market research company in Northbridge. I shared an office with a 40 something year old guy who was a delight to work with and would drive me home after work 3 nights a week to save me from the dangers of catching a train alone at night as it was "on his way anyway".

One day Colin didn't show up for work, that day became a week and after 3 weeks my boss called me into his office. My boss showed me a newspaper article from The West Australian. Colin McCurley had been convicted and sentaced to 8 years in prison. His crime; He had kept a woman drugged and bound in a rented apartment in Fremantle. The woman was 20 years old with long dark hair. She had been held hostage for 2 months. The time entire time in which Colin had been driving me home from work. He had been working and talking and building a friendship with me, dropping me off at home and then going to the apartment and raping her. I ran to the staff room and threw up everywhere.

At that time, I had been sleeping with Clinton for a year and he was still promising me he would break up with his girlfriend 'when the time is right'. I had just returned from a trip around Japan with my mentaly unwell brother and my very annoying house mate Pete was living on our couch and refusing to go to work to avoid paying maintenence for his 2 year old son whlst planning a European tour with his band. The ex boyfriend, my one true love had left me for another woman. It broke me.

I had pinpointed the one moment in my life when I gave up on men. At that point and through a series of later circumstances I had come to see all men as flawed, weak and gave up on the idea of "a nice guy". Like when you stop beleiving in Santa Claus. Nice guys had become a myth and all of them were corrupt on the inside. 5 years work in women's health had further compounded this and as I continued to meditate so many storys came to my mind. An old boss, an upstanding Christian citizen who threw himself off a highrise when his wife left him because of his addiction to prostitutes the guy who told me I was the most beautiful, amazing woman he'd ever met and then had sex with my friend the next night. The guy who slit his wrists in a park after telling me he had feeling for me and then abused me when I made him seek psychiatric help. My life had become a story influenced by one male fuck wit after another.

This Sankara was so deeply and profoundly established in me that I had come to a point in my life where I had begin to both hate all men and pine for the myth of the 'nice guy' so much that my whole life is a cycling mess of conflicting fears. I worked for days on this. Unravelling my fears, diescting my decisions one after another the choices I had made in life, the men I brought into my life, the constructs of so many acts I had carried out since had been influenced by the one shattering act of Colin McCurley and my own reaction to this man's hideous crime.

The truth of my own false knowledge. The power of my own compounded mysery. The healing, soothing and calming of my body that could occur when this truth was realised. Thus was my liberation through Vipassana.

The glory of love.
The 10 days was gruelling, hard continuous work that constantly toyed in the rhelms of . Day 4 I was meditating (of course) focusing my mind to hone in on my personal sadness, I'd been through a lot that day and somehow my instincts kicked in with some self soothing. These are some are the sensory experiences that popped into my mind:

The glory, as stunning as a sunrise, that can be seen in Loren's eyes when her pixy-like face fills with a full smile. That smile says "Mischief is about to occur and its going to be FANTASTIC!"

The incredible beauty in Jay's face when she is dancing. As her flushed face moves amongst a tangle of hair her whole essence seems to embody freedom.

The complete, satisfying and comforting smell of my mums hair when she gives me a really squeesy hug.

Tenille's deliciously devlish laugh that without words in any language tells an entire story of joy.

Sharng a glass of good red wine over a relaxed conversation on a cool summer's evening with Lisa.

The way my grandad lifts his feet off the floor and rubs his hands together before telling a great story or joke and the way my grandma rests her hand on his shoulder and smiles at me when I'm drinking a cup of tea.

The way my dad drinks tea through a straw and listens intently and seriously to everything I have to say without a trace of judgement.

The way Nathan assumes complete control of my kitchen when he comes around for dinner and unveils the ingredients of what he intends to cook in tupperware containers with performance-like enthusiasm.

The chorus of laughter my friends make when they all sit around eating and drinking together. The way ethusiastic dancing and singing always sporadicly errupts.

The way Kieran and Callum's toothy, eyes shut, rosy cheeked smile is exactly the same and appears at exactly the same time.

The scotch and honey sound of barry's husky smooth singing voice when he sings Jay's favourite lullabye. "Hush-a-bye, lullabye, time to go to sleep now my baby"

Madeleine laugh. Madeleine's wonderfuly mad and heart warming laugh!

These are just a few and they are not in any particular order. These are treasures at my core which I cherish and it appears, are able to pick me up from the bottom, dust me off and throw me back onto the dance floor of life.

In Summary

The release of this anger and fear leaves me feeling lighter and freer than ever. Not that I now believe that all men are wonderful, simply I hope to be able to see the reality of individuals and hope to have the power to better control my choices and actions in future. I feel I can face, without fear, the possibility of working in an environment with both men and women, a limitation that has seen me avoiding my potential for sometime. This, I believe made the aching joints from 12 hours a day sitting cross legged, the misery of loneliness and the unending boredom of bland food and meal times spent alone worthwhile. Lets hope its worked!

Last you'll hear from me for a while

OK so in under 2 hours I am going to get into a cab and go to an ashram in the country side outside of chennai to observe complete noble silence and do nothing but meditate for the next 10 days. I am scared shitless. How fascinating that for a person who is at her core, exceptionally lazyy, the thought of doing nothing for 10 days terrifies me. I think its the understanding that I might lose my mind. Or the fear that I might lose some of who I am. I quite like who am and am less than inclined to change that. Yet Iwas drawn to this country to do this thing. I know it. I knew it from the first time i heard about it that I was going to do it, and it was going to change me. Theres a sense of destiny in me today that has my stomache churning with trepidation. Its like today is the last day of something. Like Tomorrow will be the first day of the rest of my life. And then at the same time, the practical, pragmatic me is saying 'dont be such a silly bugger its just a few days and it'll be over before you know it."


I guess I just dont know and the unknowing is both as breathtakingly terrifying as it is incredibly liberating and soul cleansing. I dont know what will happen, I dont know what will change, but something big is happening in my life and I am running at it full speed ahead.


Wish me luck. Think of me. I will think of you. I'll see you on the other side.

Physical adventure over - Spiritual Journey Begins

If you look to your right you'll see a little map called "India Phase 1" believe it or not, I have now been to all of those places and have completed phase one of my travels here. I'm in Chennai in South India. I arrived here day before yesterday after saying goodbye o the Intrepid Group and my good friend Lisa in Kolkuta/Calcutta.

i was really sick when i left Calcutta, had this horrible cold sweating going on, was unable to hold down food and was experiencing this strange tingling feeling which made me feel like I was trapped in the middle of a cold shiver. Thanks to Ikshwarku my amazing North India tour guide, I have checked into a basic yet reasonably good hotel room with aircon and a TV and slept for the last 2 days.

I'm feeling considerably better today, but still can't be bothered going exploring or adventuring. I think i'm calling a time out and am happy with waiting 2 hours for my lousy room service meals, watching Charlies Angels on tv and reading my book in the comfort of my single (slightly odd smelling) hotel bed.

Tomorrow I go on the next phase of my joruney. I am scheduled to go to an ashram called Dhamma Setu just outside of Chennai for 10 days of silent meditation.

Its a rigerous schedule whch involves more than 12 hours of meditation per day (starting at 4am) and requires you to keep complete 'noble silence; meaning I will not be able to communicate with anyone at all for the next 10 days.

From their website:
Vipassana is one of India's most ancient meditation techniques. Long lost to humanity, it was rediscovered by Gotama the Buddha more than 2500 years ago. The word Vipassana means seeing things as they really are. It is the process of self-purification by self-observation. One begins by observing the natural breath to concentrate the mind. With a sharpened awareness one proceeds to observe the changing nature of body and mind and experiences the universal truths of impermanence, suffering and egolessness. This truth-realization by direct experience is the process of purification.

For safety sake below is all the contact information for the centre. In case of emergency contact the management there and they will contact me.
The Centre
Vipassana Meditation Centre,'Dhamma Setu',533 Pazhanthandalam Road,Thirumudivakkam,(Via Thiruneermalai),Chennai - 600 044.INDIA.
Telephone (Landline): +91-44-24780953, +91-44-24783311, +91-44-64504142
Telephone (Mobile): +91-9444021622 (Mr. Vinayak)
E-mail: info@setu.dhamma.org
City Office
Meridian Apparels Limited,Meridian House, 121/3 T.T.K. Road,Manickam Avenue, Chennai - 600 018. INDIA.
Telephone (Landline): +91-44-24994646, +91-44-42111000
Fax: +91-44-24994477, +91-44-42111777

After the emditation I plan to fly to Goa for the last 10 days of my trip to meet up wth some great friends I have met along the way and perhaps do a PADI dive course or something while I'm there. I havn't booked anything because I'm not sure how I will feel after all of that meditative 'purification' but I figre after 10 days of silence I will want to speak to some people.

I also seem to have found a fan in Pushkar called Kuldeep Singh (he was the incredibly handsome owner of the hotel I stayed in) who has sent me many emails in teh last few days and is keen for me to return to visit him before I leave India. You never know...

Catching an overnight train

You wait at the train station sitting on your pack and fanning yourself with anything you have, its hot, REALLY hot and your surrounded by the entire spectrum of Indian life. There are people laying everywhere asleep on the ground. Some are homeless people and childen and some have been waiting so long for delayed trains they have fallen asleep. Theres at least one guy that you think is probably dead, but after an hour or so you see him twitch and feel some relief. There are families huddled together and business men proudly displaying their briefcases as if to say 'i am above these lowlives, I have a job that requires a briefcase". There are men walking around with enormous trays of apples and/or cucumbers balanced on their heads. (I'm talking a good 10kg's here) and every 10 seconds an anouncement comes over the PA in Hindi and then garbled Hinglish and you know no one can understand either. There are stray dogs and pidgeons wondering around and policemen (transit cops?) with big wooden sticks and rifles looking menacing in every corner. Street children pester you constantly for money and you're stuck with them because your trains going to be at least another 2 hours. Eventually you give the kids your bottle of water and bag of chips and you watch them sit down in a circle together as the oldest girl (around age 8) distributes them democratically. The youngest one (around age 2) gets to play with the chip bag afterwards like a tresured toy. You set off for a walk around the platform and stretch your legs. On the way you see a crippled man walking on all fours in a strange limping way and his legs are completely wasted. You see a mother crouched by the plaform edge in her sari, washing her naked baby boy in a bottle of water. Your artfully dodge the purtid glob of bright red bettle leaf that an old man spits in your direction. You're taking it all in until a drop of sweat drips into your right eye and you cant see anything for the next 10 minutes. You find a group of people huddled underneith a working fan and decide its worth it to get up close and personal and so you join them in fan worship the only unilateral religion in India. Inevitably a conversation starts,
"Madam wheruu frrrrom?"
I'm from Australia
"how many India?"
I,ve been here for 3 weeks but will stay for 2 months total
"two months not very plenty"
I know but I've only got so much money and travel is quite expensive
"You student?"
"No I'm not a student. I'm a circus performer. What is your job?"
"huh?"
"what do you do for work?"
"huh?"
what is your occupation?"
"ohh I am student. Business management. Study English 2 years. I practice with you"

By this time a good 20 people are staring at you in amazement. 2 people are translating your highly in depth conversation to the crowd and another is fighting over what you just said with his grandmother who casually smacks him arcross the back of the head to make her point.

An announcement comes over the PA that suggests that your train will be arriving shortly, but on a totally different platform, so you pheft on your pack again, sling your handbag over your shoulder and attach your day pack to your chest, wave goodbye to your new found friend who is asking you o visit his family's store next time your in town and waddle like a turtle up what seems like an enormous staircase.

Finally your train arrives and you see with dismay your carriage was at the front of the train and you are in the middle of the platform. You waddle at jogging speed with your extra 20kgs of luggage strapped to your body towards your carriage, hoping that your thongs dont give way on the slippery and uneven surface. You heft yourself into your carriage and are immediately rewarded with the cool slap of airconditioning running at full. You made it! Your on the train!

Its a 'first class' sleeper cabin which means there are three bunks one ontop of eachother and you are required to remain in yours for the next 13 hours. You slide your pack under the seat and secure it to the wall of the train using a metal chain and a padlock. This is so, if you fall asleep, its still there when you wake up. You fart about trying to make up your bed which is about 2 foot wide by 5 foot long and heft yourself up into your bunk. Your bed is reasonable and teh sheets are cleanish, you've rationed your water out so as to avoid using the toilets as much as possible in the next 13 hours. You've worked out that the best way to stop people staring at you the giant freakish kind-of indianish creature, for the whole trip is to rig up your scarf like a privacy screen from the top bunk and you settle in with your packet of chips, chocolate cream biscuits and and book and try not to think about the cockroaches as the train rocks your gently to sleep.

Getting busy God style.

Dear me, in all that talk of myself, I forgot to tell a story!

Just before I get into it, I'd like to say thanks to everyone who has sent me emails. I havn't always had time to reply to you individualy but need you to understand that these emails are greatly appreciated treasures which I cherish. Thank you for those who are following me and thank you for those whom have helped me stay in touch with home. I love and miss you all.

Now heres that story I promised!

The great God Shiva went away to meditate for 100 years. (Shiva was a bit of a thinker who enjoyed his funky green smoke and abstract philiosophical pondering) Parvati, Shiva's wife waited patiently his him for all of the 100 years and when he returned home to her welcomed him with great love. To show his gratitude and passion for his devoted wife Shiva took Partvati in his arms and made love to her.

Afterwards Parvati was so entranced by her wonderful experiences she was desperate to share her stories with someone. She saw a Sage on earth and tried to tell him her story of passion, but she was a Godess and so could not communicate in the language of mankind. Instead a beautiful lotus flower fell from her mouth onto the Sage.

The Sage took the flower and meditated on it for many days, until eventually falling into a trance and recording the words and images of Partvati and Shivas wonderous couplings.

Thus was documented the Karma Sutra.

Decisions!

A few things have been bothering me since I decided to leave for India (and probably before as well)

1. Will I ever fall in love again?
2. Will I ever have a family of my own?
3. Should I stay in Perth?
4. What should I do with my life?
5. What are my priorities?

Interestingly I have answers for all of these questions now. How delightful.

The plan as it eists currently in my mind:
The love and family stuff is on its way but I have a few years in between (according to my fortune teller) This time of my life is finally about me and what I want which is why it has been so hard for me to figure out. I need not focus any energy on finding family and love, it will come to me in a few years, for now its time to fulfill my dreams and be the explorer I am at heart.

So I will return to Australia early (15th Oct) for Stefan and Kylie's wedding, get an easy travellers/summer job and save some money whilst applying for my Brittish Ancestory Visa. Once I have my Visa and the coldest nasty part of Euro winter is over, head to Ireland to stay with Milo in Cork. Get a job and work there for a few months, travelling to other European cities as I please.

Ta daaa! Clarity. At last!

The grandeur of eternal love and the river of a living Godess

Maharaja Shar jahan had three wives, but the one he loved most was his third wife Mumtaz Mahal who he enjoyed many years with. sadly this love story turned tragedy when she passed away at a young age. Shar Jahan was so profoundly bereft at the loss of his beloved that he set about building the greatest building known to mankind in which to house her ashes. The building would be built on the rivers edge of pure white marble and his own ashes would be stored in one across the river in pure black so they may look at eachother for all of eternity and the world might remember the meaning of true love. Thus was built the Taj mahal where Mumtaz mahal's ashes lie to this day. Sadly jahan was incarcerated by his son before work could begin on the black taj and so, mumtaz Mahal sits and stares for all eternity across the river waiting for her true love. Locked in an eternity of hopeful waiting.

The feeling when you approach this building for the first time is spellbinding. Who would think that anyone could sit and stare at a building for hours upon hours? But the Taj Mahal is enchanting and you feel a profound sense of calm and love when you are gazing at it. Its not cliche because everyone feels it. It is an experience that is unique and powerful to say the least. It is worth the trip to india for sure.

We have discovered two excellent travel schemes:

No 1. I look Inidian and so, if I dress and act appropriately I can get into tourist attractions for local prices! (this equates to ALOT of money ie at the Taj mahal entry for tourists cost 750 Rupees around $20AUD and costs 20 rupees fopr locals around 50cAUD!!)

No 2. Its best to stay at cheap hotels and then go relax and swim in the pools at posh hotels saving loads of money and giving the impression you are not a budget traveller at all!

Varanassi and the River Ganges

It is told that many years ago a King was walking through the land and stumbled across a sage. The great Sage had been meditating for many years and the King disturbed hs concentration and awoke him from his trance. So enraged was the Sage that he cast a curse upon the king. All of his family, all 60 000 relatives would turn to ash. And so it happened.

Deeply saddened by the loss of his entire family the king prayed to the Godess Ganga to cleanse the land of the ashes of his family and take them away to nirvana. But Ganga could not come down unaided for her mighty power would flood the world and destroy all mankind so the god Shiva assisted her. Ganga poured down from the heavens onto the forhead of Shiva who sent the water forth in a mighty river down the mountains. This river washed away the ashes of all the Kings family and took them to Mocksha (nirvana) where they would remain in eternal bliss.

The Ganges river is worshiped by Hindus as a living Goddess. To bathe in the water is a great honour and to drink the water is a great curative of ills. Many people make the pilgramage to the Ganges to make it the final resting place of their ashes and the fires burn day and nght on her banks.

We arrived here yesterday on overnight train from Agra and are very concious of the energy and power of this, the oldest inhabited city in the world.

We set out at 5.30am to watch the stubnning sunrise this morning:

Today we had our fortunes told by a man who knew so incredibly much about me I cannot dispute his knowledge. He sent my mind to rest about my hopes of family and chuildren and gave me the same answer as the strange man who unsolicited told me about my destiny many days ago in Udaipur.

Now Lisa and i are off to colect our sari's we chose yesterday and blouses we had made up to match.

I love India and despite my stomache ache, frequent toilet visits and constant dehydration, I am so glad I am here.

The day begins

Waking up in Pushkar at the crack of dawn. Your bed is a foot too short so your back is stiff, your hips hurt from lying on your side on a bed as soft as a brick. You blink several times before yu realise you have had the fan on full ball all night to keep you slightly cool so your eyes are stuck together and your mouth tastes like you've tounge kissed a puppy after its eaten some garbage. Your roomie is up and about fumbling through her pack and you kow you have 25 minutes before you need to be at the bus station. You head into the bathroom and splash your face in tepid water doing your best to remember not to rinse out your foul tasting mouth with the local water. After some fumbling you find your toothbrush (which now tastes like shampoo from being in the bottom of your toiletries bag) and a bottle of water to clean your teeth. You have a quick "shower" - which means you turn the cold tap on full ball to recieve a pitiful trickle of water down your back and decide to fill up a bucket from the tap and just pour it over your head. The entire bathroom is now flooded as the shower is just a tap on the bathroom wall and there is no recess to catch the water. You cautiously walk over to your towel (noting with frustration that you have absent mindedly soaked the toilet roll on the floor next to the loo) and attempt to dry the shower water off you. You experience a brief moment of bliss. You are clean for 2.5 seconds before it is rapidly replaced by sweat. You trundle back into the bedroom, no longer caring about modesty- the towels are too small to cover your breasts and groin at the same time and fumble through your pack to find some clean underwear enjoying the fan on your bare skin. You dress and expertly roll, fold and tuck all your belongings into your backpack and zip it up. You then realise you have forgot your toiletries and money/passport belt. Undress, put on passport belt and redress. Unlok your pack, slide around the bathroom collecting toiletries and repack and lock your bag. You pick up the two remaining one litre bottles of water in your room and drink them. Put your pack on your back and walk down 4 flights of stairs to reception to pay your bill, careful not to fall down the stairs in your slippery thongs and your heavy backpack.

After the usual rigmerol of paying your bill which is inevitably incorrect and no one ever has the right change, you trudge out to the front of the hotel and you hit it. India. Its hot. It smells like incense fresh cow shit, garbage, flowers and sand. You can simultaniously hear 2 bus horns, 6 auto horns, 3 men selling chai, cars, cows, people starting their day. Your fellow travellers are chatting about which bus to catch and how its inhuman to be awake before 9am. three rickshaw drivers come at your offering to carry your bags for a price, take you to anywhere for a price, and ask you 'madame wheru frrrom? You lokk liddle beet india I give you good price"

Your tour leader arrives and before you know it your being jammed into a rickshaw with your luggage and 2 other people. Your thighs are squeazed in tight next to eachothers and you dont know whos sweat that is on your legs. Your being thrown around corners at speed, dodging busses and cows, over bumps - when your head hits the roof "ohhh soreee madame very bump" - youve got dust in your mouth and eyes and your thirsty again. But it feels nice to havethe wind on your face and its now quite fun watching as your vehicle stops less than a centremetre from the truck crossing infront of you with 800 cartons of ciggarettes mking a muffin top over the top of the tray. You watch india wizz by in a flurry of dark skins and blight saris, fresh produce and sleeping cows. You smell burning wood, see a thousand deep fried delicious somethings being lifted from a wok and grimmage as a child and dog disagree over a piece of edable garbage.

As soon as you pull into the bus station 3 children run at you, they are dirty and their clothes are rags but their eyes are huge and they beg of you for money to buy bread. You ignore them and keep walking, cringing on the inside at this practiced indifference. You think about children back home with their baby wipes, nappies, fresh clothes, baby food, nutritional requirements, lactose intolerances, special activity regimes and snuggle blankets and your heart screams at the injustice as you tell them "NO" when they tug at your clothes and signify their hunger by putting their hands in their mouths. A man runs at you with an arm full of puppets and yells prices at you in ever more desperate and decreasing amounts. Hes pushing them in your face and walking you backwards into a corner but you push through him with your head down "No thank you NO thank you NO THANKYOU!"

"AGRA AGRA AGRAAAAAAAAAA" shouts a man next to you as you dodge out of the way of his bus only to step into the path of a motorbike with 2 men on it who swerve around you at the last second with not a care in the world for your safety or their own. You push your way through the corwds of gawking locals staring at your spectacle of abnormal dress, movement, skin and luggage. No matter how much you cover up you still feel naked and obscene under their gaze. You manage to agree to paying 25 rupees for a bottle of water even though you know the locals pay less than 10 and grab a bag of chips for breakfast before your bag is grabbed and hefted into the back of a bus and you jump on desperate to find a seat that isnt brocken or crammed between undesirable travelling locals.

You're filthy already, your seat is uncomfotable and your stressed because you accidently bought super spicy curry flavoured chips for breakfast and your book is in the wrong bag and you have nothing to read for the next two hours. But you're on your way to Agra to see the Taj Mahal and you feel incredibly alive.