Last Stop: Lyon

So I made it back to the UK. After spending a very disconcerting night in Kathmandu and eight hours at the airport the next day - I finally breathed a heavy sigh, my trip was nearly over. Due to exhaustion and the crazy flee from Nepal, I was glad to land on British Soil last Tuesday morning.

The strike in Nepal caused a power cut across the country and the shut down of most businesses, leaving tourists to flounce around trying to work out what the best thing to do was. There was no way I was going to miss my flight and lucky enough, Annie, the German woman I had allied with was catching a plane the same day as me so we decided we would make it there together.

The streets were eerily quiet first thing in Kathmandu and then during breakfast, we heard the marching and shouting of the demonstrators. They want their murdered congressman to be declared a martyr. It was advised that we head to the airport as early as possible; tourists were gathering in the centre of Thamel as there were organised tourist buses, escorted by the police that were carrying people to 'safety'. We didn't get on the first one and we waited an hour before we finally made it onto one. It was every man for himself and manners were put to one side in order to get myself and my suitcase in. Some people gave up and walked to the airport.

The nice Indian gentleman who sat next to me closed the curtain over the bus window beside me, advising very delicately that I don't watch what was going on outside. Much like the journey back from Chitwan, I just held on tight and waited until we were at our destination, I wouldn't relax until we were there. Annie and I parked ourselves on a piece of grass across from Departures by the parking lot and people watched the long hours away...Human Rights, Red Cross and UN vehicles all zoomed their way out of the car park and into town. And when Gulf Air's tail was in the air, I smiled and closed my eyes, I was at peace.

Naturally, I felt different when landing in Heathrow the next morning. England looked strange but yet the same; nothing had changed but for the first time I could confirm that I in fact had. Finding a place again in the city that I was born and raised in seems tricky now, I think we've let each other go. So as tired as I was, I was still in traveller mode, ready for Lyon the next day.


Cuter and more realaxed than Paris, Lyon is the ideal city to soak up the French culture in. Rich in history and laced with gourmet favourites, I very much enjoyed my few days there. Indulgence was the theme and I oohed and ahhhed everytime I walked past a Patisserie, Boulangerie or a Chocolaterie - sampling pretty much everything that flirted with me through the windows. Croissants, Brioche, Galette, Chocolat Chaud...I had it all. My tummy was happy and so was I...Loic was beaming the whole time, he too was happy to back in his home city.




I was too shy to practice my French whilst on native land but I'm getting better and better at understanding the language - I am definitely going to keep learning. It's in my blood you see and had I had a little more enthusiasm for it at school, I'd probably be a lot more conversational. But it didn't stop me from getting right into the swing of things there. The weather wasn't too dissimilar from that in the UK and the Christmas spirit was ever present but there was something a little bit more magical about the place that refreshed me.

My big trip seems quite distant in my memory now, although those experiences and stories are fully intergrated in me, I'm looking forward now and not so much at the past which is usually the habit. I did enough reflecting while on the plane home from Nepal and I finally feel free. Even checking the bank and organising my bills isn't frustrating me like it used to - London, you won't get me down this time. I'm moving on...and my travels are not over yet. I've got the bug now and it's probably here to stay. Forever an explorer, I've unlocked parts of me I was too afraid to release and now there is no turning back.

I look up at the grey cloud outside as I sit here typing my last 'travel blog', thinking about the year of 2011 that I'm shedding like dead skin and I've got the keys in my hand to open the door of 2012. So let's get closure on this...

Thank you all for staying tuned as I went on my journey, it's been a pleasure to share. Even as I read this back from the beginning way back in September, I see my own progress and I'm elated at what I achieved and I regret absolutely nothing.

I look forward to seeing you all again and I hope that you'll follow me on my main blog which I'll be switching back to very soon:

www.underaweepingwillow.blogspot.com

Happy New Year everyone, I hope you're all on a new journey of your own.

Namaste.

The Good, the Bad and the Scary...

My nerves are shot to s*** after the day I've had but let's begin with the lovely stuff first before I freak everyone out.

I booked a very nice place to stay in Chitwan back when I was in London; somewhere I found by chance on the internet called Sapana Village. Run by a very inspiring man who decided to create a place for tourists to enjoy activities that help the community. A lot of the money is given to Women's Skills Development and many other projects. They have two resident elephants which play a huge part in the activities available and it is close by to the National Park where rhinos, tigers, monkeys and crocodiles can be found. This is the block I stayed in:


It was a six hour drive from Kathmandu to Chitwan, a private car I had organised from Sapana came to pick me up first thing Thursday morning. I had heard horror stories about the Nepali buses and of course the main portion of this six hour journey is going around the mountain. You've seen Italian Job, right? Now you understand why I was dubious.

When I arrived in Nepal, I had a really sick feeling, like something was bothering me but I wasn't sure what. I wanted to turn around and go home - I know, it's crazy because, I'm in Nepal! An experience of a lifetime right? But I think I was just sensing that my time here wouldn't be easy and I was bloody right. So in an impulsive moment, I arranged to have my flight changed to go back to London this coming Monday. I'm very low on cash too so I just thought that it made sense to see some of Nepal for a few days and just cut my losses and go home. Relief washed over me the minute my flight confirmation came through. And as I mentioned before, I've added another location to my trip - as most of you know already, I'm spending christmas in Lyon with Loic. And so, with these new plans set in place, I finally relaxed.

So as I settled into my room at Sapana, I looked over the activities brochure and decided what to do. I really wanted to ride an elephant into the village but I was hesitant because of the price (it's not much in GBP but you know how it is, when you're broke parting with a tenner is painful). So I thought the next best thing would be feeding an elephant. So meet Jampa Kali, the thirty-five year old female ele who is just gorgeous:


I sat with her keeper and he taught me how to make the food for the elephants. They eat around the clock and need about 400 kilos of food a day!!! So we made rice parcels by using grass as the casing. Every time I finished one, Jampa Kali stretched her trunk out to me, ready to take it. Sometimes when I wasn't being quick enough, she'd tickle me on the head with the straw she was holding. It was the sweetest moment.


Jampa's keeper told me that he was taking her down to the river afterwards for her bath and I was welcome to come and watch. I jumped at the chance because I'd actually considered doing this activity, as in, ride her into the river and play with her in the water. But I thought I'd leave it when I felt how cold it was that day and I'd have to be wearing a t-shirt and shorts to get soaked in. So I watched other guests do it instead. It was absolutely adorable. Watching an elephant splash about in water really brings joy to the heart. They love it. Jampa was rolling over in the river and spraying water with her trunk, she didn't want to come out.

I filmed it, but it will take an age to upload the video here so I'll just have to show you when I get back.

The next day I woke up early, did some writing and decided that I would take that village ride afterall. I have always wanted to ride an elephant and I thought, it'll be a long time before I ever get this opportunity again so why not? I was going to ask the manager about it later. In the morning I visited the elephant breeding centre and saw some babies! One calf was only four days old. An elephant baby is like the size of St.Bernard but still ridiculously cute.

As I sat down for dinner, the manager came over and told me that he had to discuss something with me. A strike across Nepal had been confirmed for Monday and he thought it best that I go back to Kathmandu Sunday instead. I didn't quite grasp the full extent of what the strike was about but I began to panic about my flight. Would the airport still be running?! He assured me that it would and as I'm taking an international flight, there'd be no problem.

So there goes my elephant ride and now there was a little stress about going back to Kathmandu (I really didn't want to spend another night there). But these things were the least of my worries. But thank the stars for Annie, a German woman staying at Sapana who was also heading back to Kathmandu the same day. The manager suggested we share a car back and split the cost. I was happy with that idea.

So I woke up this morning, ready for a six hour drive back to Kathmandu and I had someone with me so I was feeling ok. Until the extent of what is happening here in Nepal finally reached me. The manager said that it was a risk to drive there Monday because all Nepali people on the road would be stopped. I asked if the situation was dangerous and I swear he paused for a moment before answering "not really". His doubts started to alarm me. So I found out from some of the staff talking with other guests that someone (I'm not sure who) was killed the other day and the Nepali people are very angry and rising up against the government. Our driver taped a sign that said 'tourist only' up on the windscreen of the car and the worry was growing stronger. The manager then proceeded to tell us that it was best that Annie sit up at the front because she obviously looked like a tourist and I was questionable. My stomach started to do flips - who would stop us? What would they do exactly?

Now, I've been quite lucky with my exotic features in the sense that I can blend in with a lot of cultures. I loved it when I got into the Grand Canyon for free because I could pass for Navajo. It got a tad annoying when every local in Bali spoke to me in Indonesian and I'd have stop them and say I didn't understand but it was better than being a typical western looking tourist because they got the most hassle. In this situation that I'm in now in Nepal, my looks aren't doing me any favours.

The stopping and starting that the driver did on the way out of the village to get news updates from locals was making my heart race. Everything sounded urgent and disconcerting. He soon got a phonecall from the manager at Sapana telling him that the strike had kicked up again in Chitwan. All Nepali people would be stopped. He seemed a little anxious about taking the risk of driving all the way to Kathmandu. When we came to the main road in Chitwan before the checkpoint, there was smoke in the distance both left and right. The trouble had begun. So we turned around and came back as the manager at Sapana made a phonecall to a tourist bus to see if we could catch it. He met us on the way on his bike, gave Annie and I our money back for the car and paid for our tickets. We sped down the road to catch up with the bus. Our suitcases were thrown into the trunk of the bus and we were hurriedly pushed on. The bus was packed and we had to squish up front with the driver.

Armed forces were doing checks every few miles until we were out of Chitwan. Only tourists were allowed through. I felt like I was going to vomit when they stopped us the first time and one of them got on to look at all our faces. I didn't want to look him in the eye, aside from the driver and his ticket man, I was the only non-white person on the bus. It's funny when you feel that kind of nervousness, you start to wonder why you complained about all the other stupid things along the way when this is really something to hope that you will get through. I cannot tell you how many affirmations and prayers I was saying in my head to not be pulled up by one of them and asked to prove that I was a tourist. Of course I could, I've got a UK passport and a suitcase to show them but still, you just do not want to engage at all.

I made a point of talking to Annie in my clearest English for them as well as for the distraction. There were about three or four of these stops and I wanted to cry every single time but I thought, 'no, be brave...you'll be ok. You're on a bus full of Europeans in the same situation as you'. Today's strike is only happening in Chitwan you see, tomorrow it's the whole country. So once we were out of Chitwan, the road was ours. Although, the fright was not over yet...I had to sit through six hours of the bus struggling to get up the mountain and swing round other vehicles on the bends. There were some very near misses and in particular, at the parts where the road had crumbled. My heart lept up my throat so many times today, I couldn't eat my lunch when we stopped for a break.

Each goal kept changing: please don't let me get questioned by the police, please make sure the bus doesn't fall off the side of the mountain, please let us make it to Kathmandu, please let us find a hotel to stay at tonight...

Fortunately, we made it to Kathmandu on that crazy bus. Of course, I am writing this to you now so you must know that I'm ok and found somewhere to stay. Annie and I decided to share a room at the guesthouse she's been to before in Thamel. It was advised that we stay in Thamel as it's the tourist district. We managed to get a taxi and the driver told us that the strike should be over by 5pm tomorrow so he can take me to the airport.

So this is the point I'm at now. I'm in a backpacker guesthouse in Thamel, trying to get warm, feeling a little comforted by the fact that I now have Annie but still anxious about what happens tomorrow.

If all goes well, I'll make it out of here with no issues. I'll get to the airport, catch my flight and be able to breathe normally again the minute the plane leaves the runway.

When I told a friend that I'd changed my flight, she said "maybe you can experience Nepal another time". Oh I've experienced Nepal, all right. I've experienced Nepal.

So, wish me luck guys. Hopefully, the next time you'll be hearing from me I'll be in London or Lyon. But by then, you'll all be enjoying christmas and probably won't have time to read my blog but this trip isn't over yet people, so watch this space.

Bye Bye Bali, Singapore Once More and Namaste to Nepal

I should have written this a fair few days ago but it’s been an emotional and tiring week to be honest. But let’s get you up to speed.

Monday night was my true goodbye day, Loïc left for France to spend the holidays with his family and I had a last supper with Joey, John, Pascal, Anne, Damien and his girlfriend Diah.

It was the sweetest thing, Joey had organised for herself and John to prepare dinner over at Pascal’s house and all I was to do was show up and enjoy it. I can’t even describe Pascal’s house to you, it is amazing it really is. It’s the kind of house that everybody tells you is awesome and you believe them, you do, but until you step through the front door and see it for yourself (jaw drops and eyes get wider), then you won’t get it. And so, my fantastic French Connection rallied round and we ate a La Reunion/Mauritian dish which John cooked and so brilliantly may I add. I haven’t had this dish since my nana made it and that’s been some years now. It was so nice to spend my last evening with friends, a nice quiet one before my five o’clock start the next morning - although Loïc was certainly missing from the pack.

So as Singapore Airlines taxied I said goodbye to the beaches, the temples, the rice paddies but mainly Sanur and those that are there. I started to get a bit teary I can tell you; after all, I had just spent two months there and that’s long enough for a strong case of nostalgia to set in. On to Singapore again...I had to book a night at a hostel again as there was a major time gap before my connection to Kathmandu (basically the next morning). So, now being familiar with the place, I swiftly got on the underground train and headed for Clarke Quay, that nice trusty area by the river, if you remember. I checked in, loaded my pockets with just the essentials and headed out for a ‘well done you’ coffee moment by the river. Of course it was humid and yep, naturally it rained for a bit – does this place have any other kind of weather?!

I also got me a delicious fix of crispy wontons that evening and I settled down in my lower bunk for an early night. The alarm was set for five again. I made good time back to Changi airport the next morning and I was ready for check-in and a breezy walk through customs but when I saw the departures board, I realised I could have had an extra couple of hours sleep. My plane had been ‘re-timed’ (not delayed), by two hours. By the way, if you ever have such a thing happen, Changi airport isn’t a bad one to be stuck in. It’s got everything you need really, and the air con is magic. I hadn’t had my morning cuppa yet so it was a nice big latte for me and a long sit down session on a bench outside for thinking about nothing and everything all at once.

So finally, after all this time – and I don’t just mean those two hours, I got on the plane to Nepal. The last destination on my Round the World ticket...it’s been a loooong ride folks. And although some of you may be thinking that it felt like I left a few weeks ago, I feel like I left lifetimes ago. It’s funny, I’ve waited all this time to go to Nepal and yet a little part of me was sort of hoping I was two weeks ahead in time and was heading for Heathrow. I’m ready for home now; I’m exhausted and full to capacity of memory and experience (just for now anyway). Some bits I don’t remember until something triggers my recollection, just little stories that happened way back in Arizona or even in Silicon Valley with Cat. My good friend Rob Archibald said to me at one point: “later on when you look back, it’s only the best bits of your travelling you’ll remember. All those other rubbish bits never stay in your mind” – and wow was he right. That’s happened to me already.

But I took on that traveller role again when I paid for my visa, collected my bag and looked for somewhere to change my money. The role that I had forgotten how to play, I’d been too comfy with other people in Bali and it had been a while since I landed somewhere completely new so I had to look lively again. And for those of you who have been to Kathmandu were probably all sniggering and thinking ‘oh Steph, just you wait’ when I was talking about how dangerous the roads were in Bali. I should have kept my mouth shut because bloody Nora, Kathmandu is crazy. And not like how I described San Francisco to be crazy and not dangerous like how I described the motorcyclists in Bali – it’s just...well...wow. I don’t know how to describe it without me sounding like I’m putting it down, so please just take this as an observation. It’s like one big junkyard (I don’t mean to be horrible, I really don’t!) but you kick your way through a mix of gravel and garbage the whole time. It’s crowded and it’s insanely noisy and misty from all the dust from the roads and I couldn’t find a single place to eat (well I didn’t walk very far) but everything is just a blur. Nothing personal against Nepal, again it’s just an observation, a brief description for those of you who have never been – and I promise you, once you get out of Kathmandu it is just stunning.

But check out this view from the terrace of my erm, hotel(?) i.e a cold building with some rooms in it.

Pretty cool view though eh?

But nothing, and I mean nothing, will top the view of the Himalayas from the plane window. It was a ‘pinch me, I might be dreaming’ type of thing. Above the clouds before descent I saw the most beautiful, breath-taking snow capped mountains ever. I finally achieved my goal – I saw them with my own 3D vision, right before me. You see pictures of them and you think, ‘wow they’re big, gosh they’re amazing’ – multiply those thoughts and comments by a thousand. That’s what I was feeling when I was sat there in my window seat (my first window seat in the entire time I’ve been travelling) just gawping and thinking, it can’t be them – is it really them? And then the captain came on and told us it was them and then I thought: ‘oh my god, it’s really them!’

When I leave, I am definitely keeping my camera in my hands upon take-off.

So, I’ve brought you almost up to date on this past week but I will fill you in on the latest very soon – I’ve changed my location, I’ve changed my departure date back to London and I’ve added one more country to my itinerary – have a guess where...go on...have a guess!

Sanur After Sundown

One of the things I'm going to miss about Bali is the cheap massages. You can have an hour long full body, Shiatsu, Thai or a head, face and shoulders for the equivalent of about £3 each. Joey and I went for a foot reflexology massage the other day and oooh my goodness, it was just lovely. Just what I needed.

The other thing I'm going to miss is the impromptu meet-ups with friends; being able to meet them within a 15 minute notice for lunch, randomly seeing them at the traffic lights on your bike or bumping into them at the local bar which turns into an awesome get-together.

Bali has had its ups and downs for me as you know and in the beginning it was difficult but I have come to spend time with some amazing people and have had so many new experiences that I will chalk it up as the place where the doors of opportunity opened up for me. On Wednesday night, I met up with Pascal, the photographer and we bounced around a few ideas for our collaboration project - it's a go go. I sifted through his photos and pondered over what I could do with them. Poems, flash-fiction and short stories to speak for the images he's taken from all over the world. Titles and one-liners sloshed about in my head as I soaked in the pictures. I'm going to work on it until February, the rough deadline we've given the project. Hopefully we'll be turning it into a book and there may even be a visit or two to Paris where Pascal is moving back to. He loves my writing (what a relief!) and we're very excited about what may come of it...

And so, on Friday night, the gang got together for a mini party on the beach. Our last proper shindig before saying goodbye. We all met up for a drink before ordering pizzas to the beach. We took blankets, candles, a guitar and a drum and gazed at the almost full moon. We sang songs and drank wine (I had beer - wine doesn't agree with me unfortunately). Loic and Damien skinny-dipped, I have photographic evidence of that magical moment but sorry guys, those will remain in a safe folder on my laptop!

But here's a visual synopsis of a great night, in a great place with great friends:

Uluwatu and a New Tattoo

Yep, that's right, I have a new tattoo! I decided it was time for my next one. I've been looking at my wrist for a while now and thinking, something needs to go there. I was also told that getting a tattoo in Bali is pretty cheap (compared to back in London, obviously) and seeing as though yesterday was a Carpe Diem sort of day, I thought 'sod it'. So here we are, folks:


It took about 20mins and didn't hurt a single bit. As you can see, it's a feather. A symbol that holds the obvious connotations like, flight, freedom and weightlessness. It is also associated with spirituality, purity and cleansing. I believe I said it here when I explained that I used to collect feathers (I still pick them up and keep them occasionally) mainly because they reminded me of Native American culture...also the grace of birds, the magic of angels etc etc the meanings and interpretations are endless and all of the above apply.

And so, it marks my trip. A stamp on my passport to flight, freedom and weightlessness.

Before zooming over to the tat studio, grinning from ear to ear, I had something else to be very proud of yesterday, I snorkled!


A pat on the back for me. Ladies and Gentlemen, who'd have thought it? Ok, granted I didn't see too much as we were on a 'practice' kind of beach, if you like. But I did see fish and rocks; the foundation level. It would have been nice to have done it in Amed where the fish and coral come in colours that dazzle but this was a baby step. My main fear about the ocean is the unknown, the whatnots and the whossits down there and the darkness...oh the darkness. The great power of the ocean, the beauty of it and the utter destruction it could cause. Being able to swim with my head beneath the surface and breathe at the same time was wonderful and of course, being able to see exactly what was down there, appeased me just a tad.

Now that I've snorkled and have gotten on a boat to go dolphin-spotting doesn't mean that I'm now in love with sea life and will spend weeks sailing across the seas, but my mini breakthrough is something I sure am proud of. At first, I was yelping like a wuss as we went deeper and further out and when something tickled my foot I promptly swam back the other way until I could see sand again. But I did it, and that's what counts, right? Go me.

Before our afternoon at the beach, we made a quick trip to Tirtagangga, the royalty owned water palace, about fifteen minutes from Candidasa. It's quite pretty indeed:


Although the experience was made a little awkward by a group of random strangers who asked their guide to take a photo of them with us...why?! Even more awkward when it became an order rather than a request; we were shoved over towards a tree and made to squish together and smile. No conversation, no extra exchange. They said 'thank you' and swiftly left.

And just to throw it in for good measure, on Monday we went to Uluwatu, a temple and beach on the southwest coast. It gives a remarkable view of the Indian Ocean:


If I headed in this direction, I'd end up in Mauritius....could say 'hello' to my nana.

Yet again, there were monkeys everywhere in this temple but these ones seem to go straight for ciggies and cameras so I kept both safely zipped up in my bag. We looked very fetching in our sarongs (mandatory attire in an Indonesian temple)...an extra layer of clothing in this heat is unbearable so we didn't dawdle. We pretty much just came for the view. Apparantly this is the place to be to catch a gorgeous sunset...I may not make it here again for sundown but I can live with that.


So one week left, and I'm pretty chuffed about my victorious couple of days (although a slight fail with the motorbike which I did give a tiny bit of a go - it's definitely not for me).

Can I have my Blue Peter badge now?

Paws for Thought

As I played a little with Loui this morning, I thought about how his presence has given me a level of responsbility again. Something I haven't felt since I was back in Arizona, volunteering at the school. Loui has become a reason for me to be mindful of the day and actually feel existent. He is one chatty kitten and his incessant meowing and prancing alongside my feet has made me engage in conversations with him and with myself...and I am therefore, in quite a reflective mood.

For the past few days I've been quite withdrawn, allowing the days to happen to me rather than actually living them. It's the heat, you see and the relentless headaches I've been getting. The air here is so hot and thick, it puts you in a sleeperhold and it is up to you whether you fight back to break its spell or not. And to be honest, most of the time, I let it knock me unconscious; my arms flop to my sides and my head drops. I don't cope well when I'm too hot, I get very irritable, lethargic and snappy and I'm sorry to anyone who has experienced that. I think it just gets me a little down because I can't think straight and I rely on my inner monologue heavily.

It's the part of me that plans my next writing piece, sends love to those dear in my life and gets me to work on how to utilise all my other components for my own good and for the good of others. It's the part of me that needs to figure out how to function in the future, when I'm not traveling anymore and have to be the sole responsible cog in the machine that is my life.

And so, between cleaning the dirt and pollution out from under my fingernails and dabbing my collarbone with a tissue, I've sat back from Bali a bit. It frustrates me to do it but the heaviness I feel in the air scrambles me and I fear losing myself. Although this is a common occurence in me; when I feel a part of myself slipping away, the hopeful piece of Stephanie tugs hard to claim the other one back. I crave the balance. Me, as in the fundamental core of me, is focused, productive, open, free-spirited, friendly and finds whimsy in day-to-day things to lighten up with. The part that wants to pull me down like how the drain steals your last bit of soap in the shower, is cynical and self-doubting.

How has it come to this? I wonder. What else is making me feel this way? What has this trip done for me? What has changed? What will change about my life back in London? These questions have been posed many a time, haven't they? I'm posing them now because I have less than a month left before I'm home and let's face it, I've got a lot of bloody time on my hands.

Did I write that novel I was planning to crack on with? No.
Have I practiced yoga everyday? No.
Have I strengthened my diet and quit smoking? No.

In fact, I'm lacking energy, have oily skin and have put on a little weight (no conflicting comments please, I can feel it). I chuckle because it makes me think of that line from Spaced when Daisy returns from traveling and Martia gives her that back-handed compliment: "You look really well, people usually lose weight when they go traveling".

I intended to come back glowing, all trim, sparkly-eyed, skipping with a manuscript tucked under my arm and ready for my real life to begin. The one I thought I'd invested in as a child when I took geography books out from the library every week and wrote as effortlessly as water flows. I thought I had the answers back then at the age of eleven - I would see the world, be a writer and never join the masses in grey-tinted convention or fall down the hole of unemployment and student loan debt. But hey ho, some of that is still true...I'm doing it, I'm out there in the world and I am a writer...it's what I am, not what I do for a living. But those other practicalities that unfortunately determine our survival in our daily affairs niggle away at my confidence to make something of myself.

I can't say that I've changed lots since I left London but I've certainly noted things that I will not take for granted when I return...a couple of them being flushing toilets and washing machines! No matter how much I massage my clothes in a bucket of soapy (cold) water and ring them out, they just don't feel clean! The more important things being clean houses, fresh healthy food, the transport system, roadsweepers, animal protection etc (some sights I've seen have been truly disturbing but I'll spare you...unless you're curious of course). And something else I've been craving: to open a window and draw life from a cool breeze.

But also, during this reflection, I've replayed my trip from the minute I went through Departures at Heathrow up to now on my mental movie screen and have looked out for any changes in me and have noted significant moments that have moulded me a little more. For starters, my time on the Navajo reservation has planted itself on my psyche as the most precious experience of my life.

The other day, I reminisced on all the songs I heard and the ceremonies I took part in and all the children that depended on me for wonderment, wisdom and hope. So I 'YouTubed' James Bilagody, that amazing fella that came to Sina's house to talk to me about Native culture and the 'Beauty Way' - their path in life. I watched a clip of him singing a Native song to a cello and violin piece that he helped to compose. When I heard the powerful tones of Navajo singing again, I cried. I was actually sobbing hard. All those feelings of joy, spirituality, beauty, love and ancenstral knowledge came gushing into my heart. I looked over my Arizona photos again and thought 'was I really there?' it seems so long ago now and how I still have to force myself to believe that I was in such a beautiful place.

I've also thought about how well I've done to cope on such long plane journeys by myself and how they haven't bothered me half as much as I thought they would. How calm I have gone from one country to the next, neither too excited nor too nervous - just open. How easily I've found it to talk to strangers and make friends with those in my orbit. Chatting away in hostels and coffee shops. I've also attempted things I've never had the courage to do before like riding a horse, teaching a writing lesson to a class full of seven year old children and getting up to sing a song in front of a bar full of people.

I've become more assertive, more sure of my identity and it's taught me to be a little more proud about where I'm from. The ignorance of others has caused me to think about how to get cultural awareness out there and the next person who makes a passively-condescending comment about my Navajo family will get the ear-bashing of their life and a few home truths. I was so upset by the sedated lion in Bali Safari park that I declared to you all in written form that I wanted to do more for animals - then came Loui. A kitten that was too small to be taken away from his mother and had his tail chopped (by god knows what or who) and needed to be loved and respected as a living creature. The universe threw me an opportunity to follow my words with action and I took it.

As I said in my very first blog before I zipped up my suitcase and changed my currency :

Awareness, it's fundamental.

And that's one thought that hasn't changed throughout this entire journey. It's with me when I'm on the back of the motorbike. It was with me when I led the children to the classroom when the bell rang, it was with me when I sat at the bay and gazed at Alcatraz, it was with me when I was getting drenched on the streets of Singapore...always there.

So what will I do when I get back? Who knows
Will I write that book? I'm damn well trying.
Will I get healthy and quit smoking? I bloody well hope so.
Will I get the energy back I need to pursue the things I want to achieve? I have to.

But for now, I'm going to box up this little moment of reflection and keep it there on the back shelf because it's not over yet folks, Bali and I still have business to sort out and I'm keen to see what Nepal has to offer me - perhaps an epiphany or even just the end of my ten-year old writer's block would be nice.

Beaches, Waterfalls, Lakes, Dolphins and a Kitten.

Well, well. Hello all, it's been a while, I know. But lack of internet means that I can't update you when I want. So I'm now in Sanur again for the day, catching up on correspondence and watching the staff at Bistro put up Christmas decorations. A very strange sight indeed; I only just realised that today is the 30th of November. Crikey. And I'm sure by now, you're all being slapped in the face with M&S and Argos adverts and I haven't seen television since American Fox News back in Arizona (don't get me started on that trash; it is anything but news). But really, I am quite content to let the festivities pass me by this year...although no extra pigs in blanket and stuffing for me.

Will the leftovers keep for a few days, Mum?!

So, it's been a lovely week for me. On Saturday, I went on a road trip with some of the French gang and a couple of Beligians who were here on holiday. I have buddied up with Joey, John's Canadian girlfriend. John is from Normandy and his parents are from La Reunion, the sister island of Mauritius. Joey and I nattered all day long in English which was quite a treat. We dipped in and out of French when talking to the others (her French is better than mine) but it was so nice to be able to swap stories and get to know each other in our mother tongue.

John hired a car for the day and drove us all to a glorious beach not too far from Candidasa on the East coast. Again, not many people know about this beach so it was nice to have a little piece of sand and water where you aren't falling over tourists left, right and center.


After spending the day kicking back we dropped Julian, Cynthia and her daughter Lulu home and said goodbye to Romy and Sophie, who were heading back to Beligium the next day. Joey, John and I met up with Loïc, Anne, Fabrizio and Damien back in Sanur for dinner. I had a very yummy Cordon Bleu...just so you know.

Come Monday, it was time for another trip. Loïc and I packed a bag for Lovina which is in the very North of Bali. We braced ourselves for a four hour bike ride, but before we zoomed off out of Batubulan, Loïc dropped some clothes off at his local laundry service. As the girl working there rifled through his clothes, I got distracted by a beautiful little kitten running around the place. He's so tiny, maybe about four or five weeks old. His gorgeous blue eyes convinced me to cuddle him. But he also looked quite weak, skinny and in need of a good meal. Seeing my heart melt, the girl said I could take him. I couldn't believe she was just willing to give him away, but I guess in Bali, that's the way it is with animals. If you want it, then take it.

To my misery, I turned the offer down as we would be away for two days. And of course, I won't be in Bali for very long. But as we drove away I thought, if the offer still stands when we come back, then I would take him and give him the best two weeks of his life. Clean him, feed him, play with him, love him....Loïc would keep him when I go. And so, when we got back to Batubulan yesterday evening, the girl remembered me and came out the back with the kitten and handed him to me.

So meet Loui:


Yes, that's the back of him and I'm working on getting a picture of his pretty face but the flash makes him wince and cry. So you'll just have to use your imagination for now...but still cute, right?

So back to the trip. Half way up to Lovina, there is a huge lake cradled by some beautiful mountains. I was absolutely elated to see it. As I think I've told you before, lakes and mountains are just my favourite kind of scenery and one wouldn't think they were in Bali when sat there, gazing. The day was cloudy and the mist over the lake was thick but I think you get the idea here:


We stopped there for a buffet lunch and I took advantage of the free refill coffee. The air was lovely and cool there and I confirmed to myself that so far, this was one of my highlights of Bali. Until we got to the waterfalls where I felt sheer magic. This place in the middle of our mountain route was so beautiful, so secluded, so heavenly that we stayed for quite some time. We dunked ourselves in the water, played and sang, soaking in the incredible energy of it. I didn't want to leave and I didn't even care that my clothes were soaked all the way through. But we moved on and were dry enough two hours later when we reached Lovina.

*I'm having some technical difficulties uploading the photos!

Lovina is notorious for being able to see Dolphins, so there was no way I was going to leave without seeing any. But it would mean me getting on a boat, but I did it, folks. I faced my fear and tried to forget about the deep sea that rolled about like untacked carpet beneath us. These dolphins know the drill. About 6am every morning, they come to the same spot and show off for their spectators.

The boats follow them round like paparrazi and they play them a little. Making them turn this way and that to catch sight of them. But wow, they were beautiful. And as you would have guessed, bloody hard to get pictures of but you'll have to wait to see the photos we managed to get!

And so, exhausted from getting up at 5am to see them, we crashed out for a couple of hours and then had a swim. We got back to Batubulan at about 6pm, picked Loui up and headed to the pet shop to get him set up with a few kitty essentials.

*I've just spent the past two hours trying to work out what's wrong with the waterfall and dolphin pictures but will hopefully show them to you very soon.

So how has your week been?