healths

When I talk about completing a 10 day Vipassana meditation course the question most people ask is "Did you enjoy it?" It takes me a while to answer this question. 10 days of no phone, no talking (noble silence), no eye contact, no jewellery, no books or writing materials and no music is a huge test in itself. Then you have the meditation, which you practise for 11 hours a day. Meditation is associated with complete chill and relaxation, but this was work. Hard and - at times - frustrating work. I completed my Vipassana course at a centre in Cambodia, Battambang province, about 2 and a half hours away from Siem Reap. On arrival I filled out a registration form and received a small paper booklet about the rules and guidelines of the course along with my room number (30) and locker key. I was then led to my assigned locker where I had to put my phone, camera, money and other valuables for the next 10 and a half days. Goodbye! My room is very basic...honestly more like a cell con

I'll keep this post brief as nobody likes to linger too long on the bad points, the rough side of travelling, but this is all a part of my journey and I want to share it.  I haven't written for a while now. Cambodia has been a little rough. First John got sick. Then he got better. Then I got sick. Then I got better. Then I got sick again. And here I am, gradually recovering, I can function but I'm weak and tired and if I'm completely honest, craving a local U.K Tesco so I can go in and buy: Grapes Wholemeal bread Bananas A tropical calipo ice lolly (or a twister) Lurpack butter An Elle magazine So I can sit in the glory of my home comforts and just get BETTER. But I can't. I have to keep going. I have to look after myself of course, but I have to stop thinking about all these little comforts and focus on what I do have around me so that I don't get homesick. I never thought that I would be halfway around the world, living out my dream, and craving something as m

I've been travelling for a little over 2 months now. My time in Vietnam has come to an end and tomorrow I get a 6 hour bus to Cambodia from Ho Chi Minh city where the contents of my backpack is currently strewn all over the floor of a private room (a treat to myself after weeks of shared dorms and disturbed sleep.) As soon as I arrived in Ho Chi Minh a sense of realisation settled, a little sadness, not because I don't like Ho Chi Minh, but because it's the end. This isn't the end with a capital E, I'm still travelling, I still have over a month left and after that a new beginning in Australia, but the final few days in each country and the preperation to leave for a new one brings an inevitable heaviness in my heart. I feel like most long-term travelers will be hardened to this, they will have adjusted to constantly moving and saying equally as many goodbyes as greetings. I'm definitely not there yet and I can't imagine myself ever being there this early on