I can’t quite believe that it’s almost 5 years since I found out I had a “scared triangle” and where I can and can’t put it! So, it can only mean one thing, it’s time for me to take it away again and go back into my yoga bubble for the next month and a bit.
Now I’m not entirely sure how a large carrier bag of clothes can turn into a 26kg heavy as hell wheelie bag but is has and on leaving Newcastle I was doing really well until Sara (my sister) tried to break me by shouting across the car park…”Rachel…Love you” now I’m not to sure if she thought I was going to get mugged or kidnapped whilst I was here (OK so both did nearly happen the last time) so she wanted her last words to me to be good ones. She might change her mind when she opens her Anniversary card in a couple of week time – yes I’m still in my phase of sending inappropriate cards.
So no airport experience can be complete without someone (not me) having a glass of wine regardless of what the time is…Seriously it’s 4.45am how can you have a glass of wine and a bacon sandwich, you’re in Newcastle for Gods sake, it’s not like your body clock is on a different time zone and hell you’re pensioners so I’m assuming you haven’t come straight here from clubbing!
First stop Doha, nice but weird airport. Poor Pudsey Bear has had his scarf taken away and a German helmet plonked on his head and as for the children’s play area it consisted of a big metal person lying on his side, the slide started from the top of his head and you came out through a huge hole in his arsehole! That’s a seriously disturbed mind whoever came up with that bright idea.
Now as you know I’m normally the one stuck in the middle seat but hip hip hooray not today! I’m not entirely sure the woman next to me got the memo about the arm rests and personal space though, she was sticking her phone in front of the window taking photos of nothing and watching my TV (no idea what that was all about) at this point I wished porn was one of the channel options and it might stop her sticking her head in front of my face. Now I can hear you say why didn’t you just tell her…she was Russian so I was a little bit scared.
Finally to Goa at 2.30am, I kind of forgot how crazy and dark it is so we had 90 minutes of weaving across the road, in the space of 3 minutes we narrowly missed a dog, man on moped with no lights on, police barrier, herd of cows and then a truck…a big truck…flashing his lights…on the wrong side of the road, that one did warrant a breath in and hold it. Lastly a cow still attached to his fence panel sitting in the middle of the road – I dare say, you would you be too if you’d had to drag a fence panel tied around your neck from God knows where. This one was unavoidable so the taxi man had to break the fence so we could get on our way. I’ll never complain about a pigeon in the road again.
Arriving at the hotel, OK so we’re back to a bucket and a tap for a shower but at least you get a toilet roll and a table cloth as your bed sheet – happy days. So, Fatimas guest house – the noisiest hotel ever, between them drilling and hammering not the most peaceful start to the trip – you imagine India to be swaying palm trees with the smell of incense and spices in the air, not at Fatimas…it’s was rickety ladders and the smell of gloss paint and turps.
Hopefully when I move to Sampoorna Yoga in the next 2 days I will find my little piece of Goan heaven, well that’s the plan at least.
Ok, so we eventually come to the first morning of the course, everyone is asked to wear white, you get a beautiful garland as you arrive at the Yoga Shala and all sit quietly in a circle overlooking the tree tops to the ocean, then they start making a fire in the centre. Now I can’t say that I knew exactly what the hell was going on (I do now, I’ve read the book) but at the time all I could really think of was “there’s a lot of nylon and fringing in this circle” so I did do a little shuffle backwards just to be on the safe side, I am technically a Walsh after all and we all know how that can work out.
This has been one of the longest weeks of my life, so a potted history of it goes like this:
First few days of 3 -4 hours of yoga per day I was convinced that the teachers had a sweep stake on who’s legs would buckle first, then came “Rocket yoga” no nothing to do with Elton John, even though we do have our every own Rocket man, all of our faces just kept saying “give me a break, you want me do to what?!?”
Away from the crazy (or so I thought), was our morning of self practice – 2 hours to just bring your focus to your own mat, your own body and your practice – Remember 2 hours, it’s like Billy Connolly once said “you don’t start work on a Monday morning going hell for leather, you get a cup of tea, scratch your arse then think about doing something”.
So that was going to be my philosophy, not the crazy person next to me who, from the get go, was bouncing around and just when I’d gotten used to that the sex sounds started! I have never been so grateful when those 2 hours were over…I’m moving mats next time.
Following on from that was the Metronome practice (no not like the ones in the Metro centre at Christmas) however if I could have shipped one of those costumes over I could have dropped that bouncing girl into it and it might have muffled the noises a bit and then onto Yang / Yin class, I can only imagine this is what it’s like being on cocaine so I’m not entirely sure why people pay a fortune for the drug when all they need to do is pay £10 and just go to one of these yoga classes instead.
Last but by no means least, Sudhir our meditation & philosophy teacher. At the welcome meeting we were all told “prepare to fall in love” and I think we all have, just a little bit. Imagine the most gentle Indian man with the softest of voices, he keeps saying “Am I making sense?” (You really have to say this with the Indian accent and with the slow indian head wobble to get the full effect). When talking about the Bhagavad Gita (one of the philosophy books we had to read) he said “there was a War”, then paused and said ” I have tried for along time to say that word properly, how do you pronounce it?” As he glanced around the Shala and paused at me I just thought “Seriously, you don’t want to be asking for elocution lessons from a Geordie…keep your eye gaze going”. I’m still not entirely sure we sorted that one out for him.
Finally, my nemesis, mediation and breathing now I know you’re thinking “breathing? you do it everyday…what’s so hard about that?” Well it is…well it is if you do it the yoga way, different breathing for different moods, intentions etc. etc. Take naadi shodhana or alternate nostril breathing, meant to clear the nasal passages and free blocked energy channels, you have to use your right hand only, close the right side with the thumb do something with your middle fingers to keep them out of the way and use the ring finger on the left side. – I know, it’s complicated to even explain never mind do. So we’re all sitting silently, eyes closed ready to start and here I am, thumb was in the right place but the rest of the fingers didn’t know where the hell to go, I was trying sneakily to look around the room with just one eye open to see what everyone else was doing then I thought “what the hell I’ll just do it my way” it was at this point I realised I was flipping the bird to Sudhir and bless him he came over and said “do you need a little help?” – I think he did that before I was let loose, did it elsewhere and offend an entire nation!
Yeah…so we’ve reached Sunday (told you it’s been a long week), DAY OFF TIME!!!!!
However, no matter how much you try to have a lye in you’re still wide awake at 6am. Never mind, by 0730 all of my washing was done and hanging over the balcony – there’s only so many times you can sniff your leggings to see if they’ll last for another afternoon!
Namaste xxx
p.s. This isn’t my washing for the entire week, just 2 days, I’m not that scruffy!
Middle Seat Passenger 