Abrams Family World Travel

Melbourne: Happy Campers?

NEITHER Jamie nor I are exactly what you'd call natural or hardened campers. We did a short  stint in Costa Rica several years ago. About a year ago I camped alone while Living On Light in Brazil and Jamie and Zenchai did some camping up in Yorkshire one time.

As a teenager, I also went on family camping holidays down in the south of France and Jamie did the same in the US with her family when growing up, but that's the extent of our experience.

We thought camping on the Mornington Peninsula, not far from Melbourne, would make not just a change to our norm (whatever that is, considering we've been going nearly three years), but also present us with some fresh family experiences and challenges and a greater appreciation of what we have and do not have. There's also the fact that the cost of camping (during off-peak season) is far less than renting an apartment or staying in a hotel (Australia is not cheap).

However, when our good friends (who generously provided all the camping equipment) dropped us off at the camping grounds and helped erect the tent, Jamie had the sort of look on her face that was equal to being left stranded in the Black Hole of Calcutta.

Of course, Rosebud, where we are, is nothing like India - not even close. But I think Jamie was trying to get her bearings and wondering in those early moments how that was going to be accomplished with bits and pieces all around her (she likes things neat and organised) and the night sky closing in.

But, with time, we've grown into our tent home. It's safe here (relatively, even though a truck stopped one morning and pinched our dish soap) and our kids can roam around and play without us having to check in every minute. And our fellow campers are, so far, very friendly and helpful. 

We are in bed early and rise early, too. With us all sleeping together and darkness and a night chill setting in around 8pm, there's no other way. We're getting used to sound of the nearby road traffic and the birds that live around us. Zenchai helps Kobra with her afternoon nap by walking her around in a pushchair we (also) borrowed.

We're getting plenty of sleep, fresh air, sunshine and quality family time (although Jamie and I seldom get a break together from the kids for too long, which is a drawback to this style of travel). 

Nonetheless, it's healthy to spend most of our days outdoors and until we borrowed some bikes about a week into our stay, we were legging it everywhere, which, for me, meant a one-hour trek to my Crossfit Mornington Peninsula classes and back each morning. Now, by bike, it takes only 20 minutes, which serves as a useful warm-up and warm-down. Jamie does the afternoon classes.

Zenchai is pedalling around all the time on a bike a little too small for him, but it more than does the job. His lanky legs go up and down like pistons. And he's loving it now that he has learned how to skid. He plays with whatever children he can find and is experiencing a greater sense of freedom, while Kobra just wonders and explores her surroundings as well as chipping in with some dish-washing and trying on everyone's shoes!

Only the other day we went for our first ever bike ride all together. Kobra was so excited to be in her seat behind her mother. There are trails all along the shoreline.

Melbourne weather, however, is unpredictable at the best of times and the change from warm to cold during the first week (it is still spring, after all) had us in out of different clothing all day. As one camper told us, "don't complain about the Melbourne weather, just wait 10 minutes."

On rainy days (we've had periods of drizzle, but nothing more) we were confined to the tent, but since erecting a fantastic gazebo over our kitchen area (Jamie and I failed miserably in trying to put up a more complicated one first of all), life has really perked up. We no longer have to worry about looming black clouds while Jamie or I is cooking or preparing food. We have a fridge, electric cooker, rice cooker and blender.

We found a local library and now have access to dozens of books for the kids. It's also where we get (free) internet access. 

Across the road from us is a well-stocked supermarket, too, so it's not the sort of camping experience Bear Grylls would probably get a kick out of. Less than 100m from us is a beach with shallow (albeit cold) water. 

The water in the showers, however, is piping hot, which is spectacularly luxurious on cool days, though camping is never short of testing moments, like when in the middle of the night you need the toilet and it's cold and pitch black, as well as keeping the bedding and eating area clean when you have young children, particularly one so obsessed in manufacturing dust.

We are restricted also in getting around this region. While there is plenty to do like fruit-picking and visiting the leisure centre, getting there on bikes isn't so straightforward (with young kids) even if there are cycle lanes everywhere. The bus service isn't as dependable or widespread as in the city.

But, slowly, we are finding our way - around the area and in the art of camping!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Asia: Close Encounters Of The Animal Kind

I STILL wrestle with my decision whenever I visit zoos. So often the animals look so sad, isolated in cages, appearing painfully thin or bored.

Even under these circumstances, I still wonder whether life for them is better in captivity, where they are (usually) well fed and kept safe, or in their natural habitat, where many species are continually under threat, ironically from us, humans.

However, zoos and wildlife parks offer us the opportunity to see wild animals up close. And in Chiang Mai the zoo is better than most I have experienced. Many of the animals roam freely or in large spaces. 

They have in Chiang Mai a zoo and a popular attraction called the Night Safari (although it is open during the day also).

And our kids have been fortunate to have experienced some intimate, close encounters with animals they would never have seen other than on television or computers or in books and magazines.

Zenchai and Kobra loved feeding giraffes in Chiang Mai, where you can buy food for the animals and hand it to them. 

These tremendously tall creatures with incredibly long tongues literally took food from my young daughter's hands and kept coming back for more. 

The same happened with elephants, those awesome, big animals, though I couldn't help but feel sorry for them having to wear such clumsy, large chains around their ankles.

We saw elephants up close in India, too, where they are 'used' in so many of the street parades.

In Ubud, Bali, our animal experience got even better at the Monkey Forest. Here although the monkeys live wildly in the trees, they are at ease with humans, probably because they are fed by them every day.

They still have to be approached with caution, as do most wild animals, but essentially they are only after your food. And if you treat them with respect (and don't stroke their heads), all should be okay. One or two people did complain of being bitten, though we saw tourists throwing them sweets and other food items clearly not suited for monkeys.

On our first visit we took with us one banana (though they can be purchased at the forest entrances) and almost before Zenchai could take it out of our bag a monkey swooped and grabbed it off him.

I had a unique moment with one infant monkey, though. I just held out my arm high to the side with a piece of food in my palm and the fearless monkey climbed up me and, resting on my hands, happily ate away. At one point the monkey even looked me in the eye and pinched my nose, more out of curiosity than anything else. His padded hands were so soft. 

I think at this point Zenchai could see he had little to fear, especially from the small ones, and he endeavoured to feed them, first picking up pieces of sweet potato that had been chopped and left for them by the forest attendants and then old coconuts.

He had more success with the latter, picking up a shell that had been left aside and then offering it to a larger monkey, who extended his hand and took it for consumption.

This was a real, live and priceless educational experience for my kids - one they could see, smell and feel. 

It wasn't just about being around monkeys and feeding them, but understanding how they live, feed and survive and also how we humans treat and value them. 

Zenchai, as ever, asked many questions, but also liked the monkeys so much that he said he wanted one for himself, which opened up the discussion as to why wild animals are called wild and should remain precisely that. 

World Travel: A Question Of Education

I GET asked a lot about education when people discover we have been travelling with children as long as we have.

Then they enquire how old our offspring are. "Six and one," I say. And suddenly the alarm drops from their voices.

Of course, in many countries children don't begin school until seven. But school often hasn't really been a realistic option for us while travelling and, let's face it, it's not the ONLY way one can learn or become educated. Even Albert Einstein said, "education is what remains when one has forgotten everything he or she has learned in school."

We tried school for a while when in Piracanga, Brazil, but Zenchai really didn't like it, although he seems to have forgotten how much.

Occasionally, he talks about it fondly and, when I probe deeper, it turns out that what he really liked was the freedom (it was a Free School) and playing daily with the one or two kids he had formed relationships with.

But every day was a struggle for me to take him to school. He fought it - and hard. Eventually, we listened to him. Suffice to say he had some unpleasant experiences there, though I should add there were some good ones, too.

However, though he is now six and hasn't really had any schooling, Zenchai is bright - very bright, the smart Alec variety.

The point is that whether he is formally instructed or not, he is learning, because, in the right environment, that's what children do. And Zenchai is doing it at his pace, mostly through play, and choosing what it is he is interested in rather than following a curriculum that someone else has deemed either necessary or appropriate.

Rightly or wrongly, that's the path we are taking for now. Not everyone will believe in or support our choices - and we may, of course, change our minds/attitudes - but currently I am happy with how Zenchai is developing and progressing.

Of course, he is hugely challenging, incredibly chatty and fiercely demanding at times also. But I could replace challenging with strong-willed and chatty with expressive and demanding with having the spirit to make his desires a reality. He has a strong personality, but is also highly sensitive. He is very much a free soul.

So when I am asked about reading, writing and counting etc, I don't feel any more concerned with Zenchai's progress than I was when he was learning to walk and talk, which all occurred completely naturally. The same happened with running, cycling, swimming, bodyboarding and kayaking. All we did was provide the suitable environment and tools, which gave Zenchai, when he was ready, the motivation. Through practice and enthusiasm, he got better. And I believe the same will occur with reading, writing, drawing, counting and pretty much everything else.

I notice how he studies the pages of his books even now and looks at the words, trying to work out the sounds. He does it all by himself, privately, and that's fine by us. And if he needs help, he usually asks and we assist.

Zenchai is a good observer. He can, like many young children, handle a computer effortlessly and knows how it operates. He knows all about cars, because it's his passion and he absorbs every word that he hears or reads about them. 

I know from my own experience that what I learned best was what I was most interested in and that still remains the case. What was forced upon me I quickly tried to avoid or give up or ended up forgetting.

I became a journalist through desire, passion and enthusiasm. What I learned for my specialised subject, boxing, was done off my own back and not in school. The key, I believe, is fostering that passion.

So we are trying to encourage Zenchai to learn through his interests, which are mainly cars and vehicles, but he is also into pirates, dinosaurs, building, music, magic, singing, books/stories, sometimes sports and many other things. By watching Zenchai play with cars, for instance, I have observed him learn to read (badges, number plates, signs, logos), draw (he loves details), build (he converts almost anything, including himself, into a car), count and write, all fuelled by his own fascination and with no urging or deliberate guidance from us, his parents.

There is no reason why this cannot continue as he gets older, so long as Jamie and I are prepared to support him where needed (and, for the record, neither of us is particularly interested in cars). 

The questions that are always asked are about sociability and education when they get older. But being 'homeschooled' doesn't mean Zenchai won't have contact with other children or can't, if he chooses, go on to university one day. And, as said earlier, one day we or he may decide to opt for something more structured and institutionalised. 

We seek out playgroups and other families with children wherever we go and, more importantly, Zenchai is in a world where he learns to interact with people of all age groups rather than predominantly his own and spends most of his days in real life situations rather than classrooms. 

It amounts to a different type of education. Our model is really more life-learning. But it's a tough undertaking for any parent. Believe me, I have many days when Zenchai is too much for me/us to handle and I think it would be so much easier and convenient to pack him off to school, which would give me all the time I wanted to myself. But the reality is that in those moments we are not quite getting something right and he is reminding us of it. 

But neither Jamie nor I, at this moment, really feel a school system is for Zenchai or, more accurately, we haven't found a school model here that we think is suitable for him. So we have chosen an alternative road. 

As I am reminded frequently by the homeschooling/life learning/unschooling community, homeschooling is not the experiment. It's how for generations children were raised. School, actually, is the experiment.

However, learning from 'home' means we are with our children practically all the time, which is testing (really testing) for our family dynamic. We also have to place a lot of trust in Zenchai, because he guides us to what he enjoys and wants to learn about.

Thankfully, we've never been too fussed about comparing Zenchai to other children his age. We try to think of him as an individual and unique (which is what all children are) and there is too much stress created by continually being informed your child may be lagging behind or lacking in some way, physically or mentally. I certainly never liked being compared when I was younger. Zenchai excels at being himself and my job is to accept him as he is (which, I admit during challenging moments, isn't always easy).  

I cannot say how different I would be had I been raised as Zenchai is being. It's an impossible question, of course. It would suit some children more than others. 

All I know is that whenever I ask Zenchai if he would like to go to school, his answer is an emphatic 'NO'. To go against that would be disrespecting his choice (as I did for several months in Brazil), just as it would if I kept him out of school should one day he decide again to try. 

Some people believe children shouldn't have that choice - that it is too great a decision for them. But I'm not one of them. I believe, even if I don't always succeed in practising what I preach, that to raise respectful people we should treat them respectfully. 

 

Chiang Mai: The Magical Care Package

TEARS welled up as I opened the box and read the card. I couldn't believe what I was seeing - and feeling. 

Such generosity touched my heart - and deeply!

The kids surrounded me, anxious to take a peak, as though it were Christmas all over again. Zenchai was so excited. 

Slowly, we pulled out gifts - such thoughtful, beautiful and considerate presents - sent to us for no other reason than the desire to share and offer a helping hand. 

Even though we've been fortunate to receive random acts of kindness on our travels, each time it restores my faith in humanity.

So how did this package come about?

Well, a long-time Ozzie yogini friend of mine asked for our address here in Chiang Mai. She said she wanted to send a little something over to us. 

I recieved a little pink card in the post one morning telling me I had something to collect from the main post office (well I assume that is what it said as it was all typed in cryptic Thai).

My first stop before the post office was my weekly yoga class. Interestingly, as I glanced over to look at my alignment in the full-wall mirror, my mind couldn't help but to wander to my grubby yoga attire. Sweat dripping down me, I could only think about how I would need some new threads before I could present a class myself. Then I was whipped back into class by the challenge of another advanced posture.

After class Claude suggested we get lunch, but the surprise was killing me. I wanted to get to the post office to collect our parcel.

Zenchai and Claude trundled through the heat into the post office. They emerged 15 minutes later with a large box. From across the road, Claude was carrying it by those plastic ties they sometimes use for packaging - it looked heavy. Claude placed the box on the front seat and Zenchai said "looks like your friend sent you nappies [diapers]." The box was from a bulk nappy purchase. 

I thought it could be feasible, but then again I knew this friend has just recently had a baby, so I couldn't imagine why she would send us nappies that she would likely be needing.

Anyway, we went to lunch (at one of our favourite places, Beetroot Stories Cafe) and over our delicious meal Zenchai had great fun guessing the contents of the box (bouncy castle, train set, chocolates, cars etc). 

As soon as we got home, I went straight to the scissor drawer and plunked myself down on the floor waiting for Claude to drop the box in front of me. I carefully opened the top to discover a card. I pulled it out and began reading. While I was reading the card, Zenchai was emptying the box with "wows" and "what's this?" 

I read the first few lines of what my friend wrote in the card and couldn't help but to blub. You see, she travelled a lot with her husband before making her family. She has been following our travel adventures, knowing first-hand that travelling is not all sunny skies, beaches or one long holiday. Travelling is wonerderful and exciting, but it doesn't come without its ups and downs, especially when you have small ones in tow. 

Out of the love of her heart (and she has a mighty big one), she and her family put together the kind of care package that they would have loved to have received when they were out on the road exploring this mighty world. 

The box just never seemed to empty! There were books for the grown-ups, cars for Zenchai, a doll for Kobra, organic tea, beautiful soaps, children's puzzle and book, dresses for Kobra, chocolates, eco-friendly water bottles for the kids, natural bug spray and so much more.

But the cream of the crop for me was the addition of some of the most amazing yoga clothes I have ever seen - yoga clothes made of natural fibers, beautiful colours and super flattering fit. My friend is importing and selling these yoga jewels in Australia. In my 12 years of teaching yoga I don't think I have ever had any yoga clothes quite as nice as these!

I was so incredibly overwhelmed - and still am. I feel so grateful, not for just what my friend did, but for having her in my life. 

"You may wonder at this random act of generosity," she wrote. "You may feel a little surprised or even perplexed. But we believe absolutely in giving at every opportunity and we fully recognise the sense of joy in giving and the power it has to uplift us as well as the recipient [you guys]."

If only the world were full of more people like my friend and her family. 

 

 

Fort Cochin: Some Eating Gems

HAVING spent little more than two days in this port city in northern Kerala, I cannot claim that this is a comprehensive list by any means.

However, in our short time we did discover some culinary gems. Top of our list was a restaurant called Dal Roti on Lilly Street. It's open for lunch (about 12-3.15pm) and dinner (from 6.30pm). But be prepared to wait - and it's worthwhile. No reservations accepted. You turn up and wait to be seated. The owner is very matter-of-fact, which can turn off some people, but he's actually a really nice man and very helpful.

This place gets seriously busy and for one reason only - the food is good! We went twice and enjoyed it each time. The food is plentiful, especially if you get their 'Samosa' dish, which isn't the Samosa as we know it, but a huge meal for two that is more like a pie. It comes either with meat or as vegetarian and the owners will adapt it for vegans also. It is delicious and there's a restaurant challenge for any individual who can eat it by his or herself - the meal comes free!

Alternatively, Dal Roti, which is northern Indian cuisine, also serves up all sorts of curries, thalis and breads. Their breads are the speciality, mostly coming as wraps. They are really satisfying. We stuffed ourselves and had drinks, too - lime and ginger (without sugar) was nice - and the cost was around £8.

For breakfast we all like a Masala Dosa. But could we find one in the centre? Nope. So we did what everyone requiring information should do in this town - asked a tuk-tuk driver. He took us to the Sri Krishna Cafe on Gujerati Road (Mattanchery), where the food is tasty and absurdly cheap. A Masala Dosa was 20p, but as good as any I had eaten elsewhere. 

It's not fine dining by any stretch of the imagination. This is where the locals go - and we prefer to eat. 

Our last tip is for tourists who are health-conscious and maybe don't want a typical Kerala breakfast or meal. Try the Solar Cafe on Bazaar Road, which is a tuk-tuk ride away from Fort Cochin centre.

Solar Cafe serves organic food, all of which is washed with turmeric first. They do nice juices and fruit plates, toast with honey and porridge etc and even take-away. It's a nice setting with books to read and somewhere to relax from all the craziness outside.

London: Bringing Books To Life

IT felt kind of strange playing the tourist in my own home city. But for some time now, beginning in Brazil, we’d been reading to Zenchai books about London, so as to keep him in touch with his roots.

So it seemed only appropriate to bring to life for him the London Eye, Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square, Big Ben etc.

First, though, we had to visit the Thai embassy in Queen’s Gate (for our next adventure – more to come) and then we proceeded to the London Eye, getting off outside the Houses of Parliament at Westminster tube station, and walking across the bridge.

It was busy, of course (as I imagine it always is), but the queuing/purchasing process was surprisingly swift and efficient, even if the tickets (£28 for Zenchai and I) weren’t exactly cheap (but what is in London?)

The day was somewhat clear (intermittent rain) and we could see from the Eye as far as Wembley Stadium on one side. Zenchai really enjoyed the 30-minute journey, pointing to the different buildings and making observations about what he could see going on.

From the Eye we plotted our route to Buckingham Palace on foot. So we crossed the river again, hung a right, only for Zenchai to ask if he could ride in a London taxi. So I had him hail one down. We then took a short trip to Trafalgar Square, where he wanted to climb on the lions (which were a bit too large) beneath Nelson’s Column.

We’d read a book in which the lions had come to life and I think Zenchai really believed that if he mounted one it would take him for a ride, too.

Finally, he accepted it wasn’t going to happen and we headed on foot down the Mall to Buckingham Palace, Zenchai asking with excitement if the flag would be raised and the Queen at home.

When we got there, Zenchai was as fascinated by the guards and their marching as he was the cars in the Queen’s car park (presumably belonging to her staff). I heard him use an analogy later in the evening when talking to my father, telling him “he [whoever he was referring to] is as still as a guard at Buckingham Palace.”

From Buckingham Palace it was time to head home, via St James Park tube, first passing the Guard’s Museum, which was closed, but Zenchai didn’t pass up the opportunity to eye up a tank sitting inside the gates (which were open).

It wasn’t a cheap day, but we had fun and it was educational. Zenchai continually asked questions and later we discovered the answers.

Although I’d lived most of my life in London, I’d never really taken a day out like this to properly see the sights.

Wales: Start Of A Love Affair?

WE spent our Christmas in Brecon, Wales, looking after a beautiful cottage in the country. It could be the beginning of a love affair.

We’d all like to return one day, not just to Brecon, but Wales in general. Fabulous scenery, friendly people and plenty to do, our 10-day stint flew by. Even a visit to Cardiff during the Christmas melee proved no hassle.

But around where we were based it was far more relaxed. Country lanes, rolling hills, snow-peaked mountains and sheep dotted everywhere, Wales has a slower pace of life to what we’ve been used to in London.

Two visits we particularly enjoyed were to Hay-on-Wye, a quaint market town on the English border known for its many (40-plus) second-hand bookshops and festivals, and Raglan Castle, just off the A-40 in Monmouthshire.

Raglan Castle, which dates back to between the 15th and 17th centuries, is the impressive, large remains of a once-solid fortress where you can still enter the dungeons and go up towers.

Entry to the castle – through a souvenir shop - is fairly inexpensive (£3.50 for adults or £10.10 for families), though your kids will undoubtedly be hankering you to buy some of the strategically-placed memorabilia and toys on the way out. Tel: 01291 690228 for opening times (the castle is open year-round) and more details.

For a day out, especially with children, it's a fun and interesting place to explore and the region has so much more that we wanted to see, but failed to find the time.

Something tells me we'll be heading back one day, even if it's not soon.

Serra Grande: Living On Light (Week 3)

I CAN see now why the final seven days are described as the ‘Mental Week’ more so than ‘The Resurrection’.

The 19^th day was testing for me in so far as my mind began to lose focus and I started looking ahead to the finish with it being so near.

Only on this day did I lose my sense of being centred, though. On the whole, the last week was a coming together of all the elements I had experienced.

The ‘process’ had given me a clearer definition of my sense of happiness and fulfillment, the experience of being in a deeper and prolonged state of stillness and of living in the moment, without wanting or needing.

I didn’t realise how much pleasure could be had from doing so little and simply enjoying whatever experience came along.

When silence and emptiness becomes uncomfortable often the impulse is to get busy. Mine was to remain quiet and still.

There was something therapeutic about observing and being with nature, especially surrounded by forest. I was certainly very alert and switched on. All my senses seemed to be operating on what felt like a higher frequency. Often I couldn’t sleep as my mind was so active.

I noticed I had become gentler and kinder to myself. I felt mentally very strong, as if the whole experience had expanded my mind, nourished my soul and lifted my spirits.

The final two days were stormy (lashing rain and then a fierce, chilly wind) but inside I maintained calmness. I stayed in the tent mostly, warm under my blankets. What a contrast, I thought, to how I’d felt not too long ago in Piracanga, where outside it was sunny and gloriously beautiful, but in my head space the clouds were gloomy.

It confirmed to me that any situation or place is only as happy or beautiful as the thoughts you have about it. Even mosquitos buzzing around my head!

Everything is a projection of our thoughts. The mosquitos eventually became my playmates. I’d sit in my hammock, they’d try to make me their acupuncture cushion and I’d attempt to clap them. Not very Zen-like, I admit – only if you do it with anger. But I noticed my sight, timing and speed of hand improving quickly. I observed the different types of mosquito, how they moved and their patterns. I got to know them well.

Little could dampen my spirits, it seemed. I really started to comprehend more fully author Byron Katie when she says ¨Everything is perfect as it is.” The more you accept, the more perfect you see the world for what it is. So I looked to the present moment, which is where life is really happening – always!

I realized I had been fighting reality every time I opposed my circumstances and the result of this was stress. Now I try to graciously accept where I am and what is taking place.

I recognize for me that happiness and healthfulness come when there is an absence of stress (the worrying, conflict type). I’d had 21 largely stress-free days and that in itself made this experience worthwhile. I accepted that my happiness is solely MY responsibility.

The sense of feeling ‘lost’ no longer resides in me. I don’t feel at all directionless even though beyond England for Christmas I haven’t a fixed destination for where I will be. But tomorrow I might. Or the day after. I trust in myself and life. As scientist Alan Kay once said, "The best way to predict the future is to invent it."

I’m happy to be in Piracanga, London or wherever. And now when I think of the last two years travelling with my family, I see it as the best time of my life.

However, while the ‘process’ was for me powerful on so many levels, physically, it was very weakening. I was not even close to the level of fitness at the end as when I started.

I did my best to accelerate my physical revival by working out daily, doing push-ups, chin-ups and squats. I swam, practiced yoga and walked. I was always mindful not to do too much. My routines were short, but intense.

I got progressively stronger, but my body was thin and often drained. I felt less thirsty than in the second week and drank less. Hunger was never a factor. I didn’t think of food. The fresh juices were more concentrated, perhaps explaining why I consumed less. But on some days I woke up having had nothing for what must have been 14 hours or more and felt fine. I now know I won’t ever starve.

I liked that I was able to enjoy living in a natural bodily rhythm. I didn’t drink because ít was time’. I realize how much my desires to eat and drink are mental rather than physical.

However, I have no desires to stop eating even though I feel sure that I could – at least in the short-term – and that drinking juices never gave me that heavy feeling you get when eating too much and the digestive system is overloaded.

I enjoy food – the preparing and sharing, the taste, smells and social interaction around it. I will seek to find a healthy balance. I realise the wrong foods can make you sick, too much food can leave you tired and not enough makes you weak.

Living on juices only, I peed more than ever in my life. This made sleeping problematic as on average I would be up five times every night. Often, though, I’d sleep in the mornings, by when my bladder was empty, and towards the end of the week my dreams became clearer and more vivid. Although I didn’t sleep well, I felt rested.

The ‘process’ felt like a long and short experience at the same time. It’s hard to explain fully, but I am sure we have all had that sensation. I came to really enjoy sitting in the forest house for hours in my hammock cross-legged. I never picked up a book or, surprisingly for me, tried to do any drawing. I spent time just watching.

This was a transformative journey I can’t imagine I will ever forget. I hope – and trust – it lives on in me. Little would I know how much the day after I finished my resolve would be thoroughly tested. More on that in a blog to follow.

I owe special thanks to my beautiful wife, Jamie, who not only lovingly takes care of my family, but supports me, shares my visions, gives me the freedom to be myself and opportunities to explore my potential. I love you.

Thank you, too, to Silvia, who supported me, welcomed me to her home and on to her land and provided me with the gift of this chance to grow, evolve and understand myself and humankind more fully.

*Anyone interested in doing the ‘process’with Silvia can contact her by email - [email protected] - to discuss it further. She speaks Portuguese, English, French and Spanish.

Serra Grande: Living On Light (Week 2)

MY physical rejuvenation was very slow. But my attention for seven days switched from body to mind and emotions. I didn’t experience any internal upheaval. I was very happy, centred, stable and calm. It was a beautiful week.

I could drink again. In my pre-‘process’ gluttonous way, I looked at the fruits in the kitchen and thought it wouldn’t last more than a few days.

But I found, despite a week of complete fasting, I didn’t need much. The first day I consumed only 1 ¾ litres of diluted fruit juice and coconut water. I made all the drinks fresh myself, using a hand-powered blender and pushing each drop methodically through a strainer.

I didn’t force myself to do anything, instead trying to listen to my body. When I was satisfied, I’d put my juice aside. When I was thirsty I would drink.

Thoughts of food, which filled my mind the first week, disappeared slowly. I was never really hungry, even if at night I could feel my stomach burning. Usually, my ‘dinner’ consisted of ½ litre of coconut water by candlelight around 6pm.

Slowly my intake increased. By the end of the week I was comfortably consuming three-four litres daily. The fruits – pineapple, mango, papaya, passion fruit, orange, cupuacu, banana – were delicious, but nothing topped sweet coconut water. People pay ridiculous prices for vintage wine, but give me coconut water – at R1 per coconut – any day.

I didn’t regain any weight. If anything I lost more. I noticed by the end of the week my arms had got thinner and my shoulders narrower. Though I got stronger, I found my conditioning still wanting. I continued with my yoga daily, but anything vigorous was a struggle. One day, when after swimming a few lengths of the lake, I could feel soreness in my hamstrings. It reminded me to take things easier.

And so I did. While in the first week I had no desire to read much, the second was different.

When I left London 14 months ago, I took with me only one book. It was by Byron Katie called Loving What Is. I’d read it about six years ago and really enjoyed it. However, I hadn’t touched it in all the time I was in Brazil. But when I went into the ‘process’, I thought it would make the perfect companion as the book is about self-examination and following it is a process in itself.

Katie’s work helped me immensely during the ‘recovery’. I felt drawn to examine relationships, past and present, and to deal with anything that caused me fear, anxiety or confusion.

I found myself waking up in the night like a yo-yo, switching on my lamp and writing letters of gratitude and apology. I found a lot of peace in myself.

I had called off the troops – on myself and others. It may not be the same for everyone, but I realised what is important to me isn’t what happens next, that all I ‘need’ is to enjoy where I am and what I am doing – to be fully present and live my truth and not the illusions of the stories I had been attached to.

I reflected on my family travels and could see only positives in the amazing experiences Zenchai, at only five, had been through and how he has developed.

My love swelled for Zenchai, my precious, extraordinary and misunderstood little boy. I look forward to sharing more wonderful adventures with him and learning from him.

That was another discovery for me – that my family are my teachers. They show me better than anyone what I need to find in myself. Thank you to them. Though I was a long way from them and had no contact, energetically I felt very connected. I wrote a special note of thanks to my daughter, Kobra. It said: “Thank you for showing me the potential of my own love and the power of a smile.”

It was indeed a humbling week. I felt peace where before I noticed anger or confusion or frustration. I felt content where before I was restless.

Time is a great teacher and I had lots of it. I never once felt lonely or bored even though I was nearly always alone. I didn’t long to speak with anyone or think about emails. I had no schedule – nothing to wait for. There were no real distractions to make me think `I need to do this´ or ‘I need to do that’. I didn’t oppose anything – thoughts or tasks.

The forest, lake, clouds, wildlife and plants was my TV – and in high definition with incredible surround sound. My head provided the commentary. I never tired of the picture.

It didn’t bother me much whether it rained, was hot and sunny, cloudy or cold. I was in a space of acceptance. Some days I just wanted to stay in bed, wrapped up in my blankets – and I did. On others I sat in the lake and watched the world around me.

My experience would take on a new dimension on Day 12, however, when I moved in to the forest. It meant more isolation. But it brought out in me the inner child. I was excited. Pitching a tent in a crumbling, half-constructed tree house with no running water or toilet, building fires, spending the night in darkness, often with powerful storms, felt adventurous. And it was.

My new location, though, meant I was further from my food source and the lake. The five-minute walk to the lake – which Silvia called ¨going to the city¨ - required a very steep climb (which is why it’s usually from Day 10 that guests are invited to move to the forest). I got used to it, slowly. Usually, I go up mountains with ease. But my legs were still recovering from the first week.

The second week passed briskly, smoothly and effortlessly, though I felt as if I had been through a lot, like a great weight had been ditched. I wondered, if only briefly and with a magical sense of expectation rather than impatience, what the final week could possibly bring.

World Travel: A Birthing Inspiration - Book Review

The birthing experience I shared with my wife for my second child in a remote eco village in Brazil would, I suspect, have been completely different had it not been for Veronika Sophia Robinson.

I trust wholeheartedly in her writing and what she has to say. Her words carry authority and integrity. They are delivered with knowledge, experience and sensitivity.

She is the editor and publisher of the superb magazine, The Mother, which is all about attachment parenting and raising children in an optimum way. Her book, The Birthkeepers, is specifically about freebirthing - giving birth the way nature had intended.

As she states in the subheading on the book's cover, Veronika writes about 'Reclaiming an Ancient Tradition'.

I had only a vague knowledge of freebirthing - from when Jamie had talked to me about it prior to the birth of Kobra. If I am honest, I had some initial concerns even if I was prepared to fully support my wife's choice. After all, I am from a generation that, largely due to television and media, has been taught that most women give birth on their backs in hospitals - and in great pain!

Since knowing Jamie, I have been educated to know it certainly doesn't have to be that way.

Jamie and I had contacted a respected midwife before we arrived in Piracanga. But, for whatever reason, as events unfolded, Jamie felt a preference to give birth by herself, alone.

That intuition was compounded when a package from England arrived a few days after Jamie had revealed to me her desire. It was a book. We didn't know precisely what it was about, but knew it had something to do with childbirth as it had come from Veronika.

It was all about freebirthing. I read it in next to no time, as did Jamie. The information was clear. And, most importantly, I connected with the function on every level. I felt secure and informed. I understood the role I needed to play.

Like Jamie, I found it empowering and inspiring. It was not just for prospective mums, but for dads-to-be also.

As Veronika says in the book's introduction, "I merely acted to remind them [women on unassisted birthing journeys] that they had everything within them they needed to birth their babies beautifully and gently into this world."

Jamie had a wonderful second birth, owed in large part to Veronika's guidance and mentoring. Her book magically arrived at a time when, due to various mishaps (infections etc), we were searching for direction and clarity. We're so grateful that it had.