And so as we come to our final full week I think the cleaning staff may know something we don’t by the number of toilet rolls they have left in the bathroom, so as none of us were at the point where we needed to be within a 50 metre sprint to a toilet, a trip to Palolem it was. After bartering over 50p (yes I’m so over haggling) we shoe horned ourselves into the Tuk tuk – now remember there are no real rules to driving here and I swear these drivers see the speed bumps more like ski jumps, it’s just as well you’re wedged together so no-one disappears out of the window as they fly along the road.
Arriving, at what was my last place of Goan heaven “peaceful Palolem” – not so now – really we should have listened to Sudhir when he said “you go to Palolem and it is so busy, so noisy and too many Indians” so after narrowly being kneecapped by a man carrying a concrete pillar crossways across his moped and a bird shitting right in the middle of my flip flop I thinks it definitely time to head back to serene Agonda, and what else to do on a sunny Sunday afternoon except lie on the sand watching a beach full of people doing yoga poses shouting “quick take my picture for Instagram”. The highlight being one group trying, and failing miserably, to spell out YOGA with their bodies – seriously, they ended up looking like a dyslexic version of YMCA.
Anyway as we started the new week poor Rowie had to contend with the Monday morning faces in yoga practice, luckily there wasn’t a marker pen handy or I think there would have been more than a few foreheads with F*** This written across it but, as always, you forget after a little while that you’re knackered and go with the flow.
And so the week continues until “Ashtanga Day” – now after doing it I’ve realised why I’ve never really done it before or have any desire to do it again. Anyway it was with bouncy self practice girl, I’m really hoping that sex sounds aren’t compulsory – we’ve shared a lot as a group during this course but that would just be a step too far. So as the practice gets more complicated in a very casual manner these words are uttered “just put your legs into Lotus pose, thread your arms between the gap of your thighs and calfs” (the marker pen could quite easily have come back out again) – Well seriously, not even a wafer thin mint was going through mine! and then grand finale, whilst in Savasana (relaxation) “take any organic or orgasmic move that you need”, I wasn’t entirely sure that I had heard correctly…so I thought the safest bet was to do neither.
We were then told not to miss dinner as it was going to be a special one…ooooh treat time in my mind I was hoping for cheddar cheese and biscuits or a food parcel of cheese scones had arrived from the UK (I’m really starting to think like Wallace & Gromit) one can live in hope.
So arriving at the dining area you do have a glance around the plates to see what’ son them and then the judgement comes…for gods sake just because you’re in India it doesn’t mean you have to eat with your hands…Get a fork Man! then I realised there were no forks or knives or spoons for that matter, so hoping that soup wasn’t on the menu, time to eat.
Sitting next to lovely germ phob Sam, who has happily placed her anti-bac gel next to her plate, getting sweatier at the sight of all these people shovelling food in with their fingers it did make me smile to think that no amount of anti-bac is going to remove the shite that has probably been on our hands for the last 3 weeks.
Anyway, it was a special dinner – up to the point where I went home and had to take my contact lenses out and the choice of spicy sauces didn’t seem to have been the wisest.
Getting towards the end of the week and even though the F*** This faces have disappeared we were all ready for a slow/relaxing yoga practice…Restorative it is then!
Blocks, blankets and bolsters and that’s where it became a bit unstuck – relaxing on your mat, gently folding forwards, softening your breath, resting your head onto the bolster…and about 10 seconds in you realise that your face is exactly where someone’s sweaty crutch has been for the last 3 weeks. So for the next few minutes I was wracking my brain thinking what do I have within arms reach to put over this bolster so I’m not nose to butt crack – sarong it is, to be fair it didn’t smell much better.
So after 3 weeks of Planks, Dolphins and Downward facing dogs the blisters are disappearing and the carpet burns on my elbows have scabbed over – there has literally been blood, sweat and tears on this yoga mat, so time for a little TLC in the effort to try and make my hobbit, cow shit covered feet look like a girls again.
Off for a pedicure – a lovely little tin hut but it did have a fan, happy days, and Blossom (I’m not convinced that was her real name but let’s roll with it) and she sets to work just occasionally glancing up at me and sighing as she looks back at my feet so to break the sighing I ask “do you do massages too?” to which she replied “yes I do massages” then frowned and said “I also do facials..they are good for wrinkles” hmmm what’s she getting at? “yes I do good facials, good for very dry skin and it smoothes out the wrinkles”. Ok Blossom Pet I get the message!
I might just take my new feet and wrinkly, dried prune face back to Sampoorna in the hope that tonight’s Mojito may just plump out my skin instead.
(Yes, over 3weeks we deserve a drink!)
Finally, never forgetting Sudhir, now the funniest part of the week doesn’t really translate onto paper, so just for those reading this who were there, I only have one word for you…Wave!
Here’s to the final few days of this amazing, crazy, weird & wonderful journey.
Namaste x
Middle Seat Passenger 