india

India, land of colour and spice and beautiful chaos.
Ancient sunlight reaches you through haze.


Every square inch of this land alive, inviting you to further engage. You immediately feel (and without in any way diminishing our previous travel experience), nonetheless you feel "why didn't I just come straight here." Here in the present because where else would you be, letting go because you have to.


Everything expands!


We find our way to a reforestation garden south of Chenai (Madras) on the Indian south-east coast. This is where the tsunami hit and soaked the land with salt. Anna, who runs the garden, believed that the planted trees broke the wave somewhat, although they are still recovering from its impact. She told her story: The wave was like a train roaring in, she recognised the dark, massive wall of water topped with a shimmering halo of light because of a recurring dream she'd had. She siezed her grandchild and raced up the stairs, and looked out upon what she described as "like being in the middle of the ocean". All her family survived, although the village lost about 40 members.


For this part of the trip we are joined by Peter, David and Aysin and since we no longer fit into a white ambassador taxi, we adapt ourselves to bundling in and out of auto-rickshaws, appreciating the flexibility and independence this style of transport allows.

We spend some time on the outskirts of the township of Auroville, " an urban experiment to undertake the work of evolution of consciousness". This place is deeply interesting and not very easy to penetrate in a matter of days. I get my first scent of fascination in the visitor centre bookshop where I learn some of the history. Auroville was founded in the late sixties by the mother, partner of spiritual/intellectual Sri Aurobindo, intended to be an urban settlement of 50,000, but population and economy have grown slowly, only now some 2000 people in scattered projects, cottage industries and residences. Although thoroughly green and innovative in all its plans, it has had to compete with expanding population in surrounding towns and villages for resources.

We spend a few days at the ashram of Sri Vast, a young guru who advocates life as celebration. He advises that we approach our lives like bungee jumpers, only not determining in advance the measured length of our leap but leaping freely into the infinite, unknown. Then we leave Auroville, stopping overnight in the town of Jinji, an old that hill fort where we share the town's only hotel with a Bollywood movie crew filming on location.
The next day we arrive in Tiruvanamai, on first appearences the place is swarming with Swamis, as Corrina puts it, too many to be taken seriously. We learn why; one perambulation around the holy mountain Arunachala can undo the negative karma of 10,000 lives. The mountain is the embodiment of Shiva, at its foot stand both an ancient temple and well-known and greatly visited ashram of Ramana Mahashi.




At Arunachala, we had heard of a Temple reforestation project, a sister organisation to John Seed's (from Yulunga, Australia) rainforest action network. And we meet Ishi, who never leaves his house without a copy of Hafiz, the Sufi poet, and he becomes one of our guides to the rooftop satsang or spiritual discussions, that take place daily. Fever and congestion take their toll but on the third attemp we climb to the cave where Ramana meditated in hot summer months. The experience in the cave was profound. For weeks after we will be haunted by the Gayathri chant which played on a crackly tape recorder during the few moments that we spent in the cave.
On the night of the full moon we hire a bullock cart and perambulate the mountain with thousands of other pilgrims.





The last day dawns and we ready ourselves for the final departure.

Nimbin and Yulunga

In New South Wales, just inland from Byron Bay, is a vast rainforest- filled Cauldera, inside which lies the town of Nimbin.
On the streets of Nimbin where soy lattes are plentiful, alcohol is banned and hemp celebrated, most things are tolerated but not violence (according to Nimbin street code) and here we see our first living presence of aborigines since arriving in Australia- strange but true.



We arrive Yulunga at the hour of mosquito feasting and rainforest cacophony just before sunset. From outside the houses look a bit unconvincing as dwellings, like masks or husks, but the forest gardens surrounding them are beautifully tended. No one is within sight or earshot. After a while a car approaches and driver who turns out to be John Seed encourages us to make ourselves at home, our friends Nell, Ron and little Kian should be back in the next couple of days.



They return next morning but before they do we meet Koa who lives in and out of the forest, knows how to feed himself from bush tucker and where to find watering holes a days journey apart walking all the way to Cairns, his own song line if you like which he walks every year. Koa was paralysed in his twenties and learned to walk again with the help of a Hawaiian healer. I was pretty amazed by the life and freedom he has attained for himself. He has to watch where he places his feet,as sensation is incomplete and told me that straight-edged urban landscapes are deceptive and easy to fall down in, whereas the rainforest keeps him attentive, poised, sensitive and sensitised.



We spent a very relaxed week with Nell and Ron, friends and neighbours dropping by, musical instruments accompanying varied and lively conversation. As Utopian as I've ever known in passing.
Nell and Ron's baby, Alia Rose Berry, was born 3 weeks after our departure on Feb 3rd

Rye, Victoria, Australia

Sorry for the delay in posting.
we did reach Australia and spent New Year in Tom and Elaine's fine home and company. They've found a place to live nestled between the wild Tasman Sea and an inland coastal water with perfect golden sand beach. And all the way round the world from Edinburgh, they've still managing to live at the foot of 'Arthur's Seat'.
It was the height of tourist and cherry season, with a superabundance of both. And very hot! I slept on the porch where kookaburra sang in the old gum tree, merry merry king of the bushes he... laugh... we had to, kookaburra is such a funny looking bird.





On our last morning, Tom and Elaine took us to an artists community just outside Melbourne which was a special place, peaceful and timeless. It seemed as if it had been there for centuries, home to a secret order of craftsmen, impossible to believe it was built around 30 years ago from reclaimed materials. And a little magic happened while we were there. One of my shoes disappeared and was later discovered when we opened up the car. I knew I'd had them both on but I convinced myself it must have got left behind. However, the camera doesn't lie... see both shoes are on!



And now we've heard that Elaine has had the baby, born March 21st 4 p.m.
Ruby India Holly Wasabi Polly Greenwood

Traversing North Island

Now begins the ten day journey traversing North Island from Wanganui to the Coromandel along the “thermal explorer highway”. The route will take us through the heart of Mordor (Mt Ngauruhoe volcano) and lead us eventually into the Shire.



















We follow the winding Wanganui River on a hot afternoon and seek refuge in the small town of Jerusalem where a mission church stands among peach trees. Inside the cool church, ornate with Maori carvings, we fall into a stupor / afternoon nap before continuing on our way. We pass the standing Maori canoe on a small village green that Corrina slept under seventeen years ago and then pass out of the native bush and suddenly into clear cut pine forest. Another few bends in the road brings us into full view of the twin volcanoes that dominate central north island.

“Volcano Lover” Ryan is hellbent to get Yinka as far as possible to the mouth of the volcano and with phenomenal energy and salmon-like determination drives the wheelchair up the rocky road to the cinder strewn plains below the crater.


The area to the east of the volcano is rain shadow desert and volcano top rainfall streams are harvested for hydro-electric power, the lake below being promoted as trout capital of the world. The small town of Turangi is home to Valentino’s Italian restaurant who can trace its ancestry to the Italian immigrants who built the tunnels for the hydro-electric complex. We stay an extra day as Valentino’s is closed when we arrive. There's nothing else but we eat like kings.

On lake Taupo we see a huge black swan colony and Maori carvings that are not ancient (late 70’s I believe) but inspired by old carvings and designs.

We find our way to “paradise springs” where hot water pours into the lake in the natural setting of ferns, rocks and slime. A rare and beautiful experience in nature


In Rotorua we stay right next to the Maori village in a Korean run backpackers in a bid to escape the wall to wall motel strip. The Maori village offers geyser cooked sweet corn and audience participation in the dance performance The feeling is one of ongoing community life with cheerful professionalism to the art of hospitality and tour giving, with a daily tourist season of a few hours. A fence divides off the government run Maori experience in a separate adjoining area where villagers also have jobs.><

We are all quite glad to leave Rotorua and find ourselves in soft rain in the river valley running alongside mist wrapped forest at the town of Te Aroha, meaning love.

Finally sunrise at Cathedral Cove, Hahei, where the world’s day first begins –on New Zealand’s eastern shore.

South Island Tui

Land of fern, fluted
Bird calls. Here English farms bask
in exotic fruits.














Golden Bay looks out to Farewell Spit which you can see on a map is an extraordinary sandbar many, many miles long looking like a bird's beak, on the northwest corner of NZ South Island.

To get there we drive over the mountains from Nelson alongside the Abel Tasman National Park, descending into a valley of farmsteads and at at last, real native bush as we arrive at Tui.

Tui is a 25 year old intentional community (reputedly) New Zealand's oldest. Our connection there is with Paxe & Cherrie who are considered elders in the social fabric. Corrina's sister Maggi lived in Tui some years ago and dazzled us with stories of its enchantment.













We
are
enchanted... and each in our own way in the elvin magic, rest and recuperate after our long journey.

NZ ~ Waiheke to Titirangi Beach

Arriving in New Zealand we jumped straight on the commuter ferry to Waiheke Island to spend a week with Yinka’s cousin Miles, partner Helen and baby Lily. Lily takes the doubling of household in her stride.

We settle into island life, sunshine, hailstones, high winds, and one calm afternoon we get to take a spin in the 28 foot Gordian, Miles’ yacht which he sailed solo across the Pacific, lived to tale the tale and write the book.














From Waiheke farmers market to Titirangi Gypsy Fair, east to west Auckland, you could close your eyes traveling between and hang on to the fantasy that New Zealand is one big colourful artsy-craftsy hippie alternative wonderland.

In Titirangi we stay with Corrina’s family (10 years between and nephews full grown). Ryan is inspired and encouraged to post a sign on Titirangi central round-about (assured that every resident must pass this junction to go anywhere) for Kerry, ex-brother-in-law with whom he shared a double wedding ceremony at Featherstone Castle on the Scots-English border some 17 years before. We’ll be back here to spend Christmas Day; watch this space!

tribewanted in Fiji

So we decided to break our journey to New Zealand with a few days in a South Pacific island and chose Fiji for no special reason. Fishing around online a week prior to departing California we came upon "tribewanted"

This internet community has been collecting over the past year and is centred around a kind of cultural exchange eco-tourist village on a remote island in Fiji. Started by two young English guys, the idea is to live sustainably, revitalize and integrate with the small Fijian village already there and leave without trace after three years if things don't work out.


Members who sign up pay a certain amount annually and get to stay, work or play and be fed for a week on the island. Without further ado we joined up and became visitors in the first opening weeks of the new settlement. A large "bure" (traditional Fijian thatch hall) had been constructed close to the beach and this was where we slept and were ritually welcomed by Tui Mali, the Fijian chief of that district. Later we visited the village school, shared songs, stories and games.

Other times were spent in the garden where vegetables and banana and papaya trees were nurtured and defended from feral goats.

As it happened our time on the island coincided with a BBC film making crew so if we don't end up on the cutting room floor we'll be on British TV next September! Corrina was interviewed sitting in the gently lapping waves while Yinka floated close by.

www.tribewanted.com

Post script: We left Fiji on November 24th headed to New Zealand, just as local newspapers aired stories of unrest and possible coup in Fiji. Breaking news now on New Zealand TV is that Fijian military presence in the captial, Suva. May not turn into anything as alarming as it seems as Fiji has a history of bloodless coups.

From a garden in Santa Cruz

Looking out at ripening golden Cherry tomatoes, gold-red leaves of a Persimmon tree falling away to reveal globular golden fruits, dazzling in clear gold sunlight. A pair of Hummingbirds fast friends in the garden, a visiting Mocking Bird. I sleep out on the deck and wake up each morning to this.

I've arrived in a house where Takashi, who lives deeper into the garden, is a wheelchair wizard mechanic who has designed and built an adjustable, tiltable basking wheelchair. He gets this out, dusts it off, tinkers a little and invites me to give it a try.

Ryan, Corrina Yinka and Corrina's grandson Freddie are strongly encouraged to don costumes and take to the streets of Santa Cruz on Halloween, where parades of ghouls check each other out in passing.