Sadhana Yoga

So I have come to the end of my time in Pokhara. So much has happened since my last post it will be hard to be concise...

After my last post I said goodbye to Myke and off I went to Sadhana Yoga Retreat, Nepali flute in hand, rucksack on my back, taking my first solo taxi to an ambiguous looking lane. I sweated and panted my way up the rocky roads, scrambled up and up past silent villages and staring children to where a building was nestled in the hillside. Huge hemp bushed covered the hillside and I climbed through the overgrown jungle where ants covered my feet. I seriously hoped I was going in the right direction, but as I reached the front yard a Nepali woman motioned at me to enter through a little doorway, and I found myself in a homely kitchen, Chiya bubbling on the stove. Without a word, the woman took my bags and gestured for me to follow her through the building. I was led out into a bright, sunny courtyard, where a long dinner table lay laiden with empty thali plates and glasses. In the wicker chairs surrounding it was other evidence of a whole host of inhabitants, and from the floors high above I could hear what sounded like a dozen people chanting. Swallowing hard, I took a seat at the table, and wondered what would be in store for me when whoever was chanting had finished. But before I could find out, another equally sweaty and confused looking girl came marching in. She must have been just behind me on the path, and we exchanged an anxious smile. The two of use sat around the long table in the courtyard drinking herbal tea, taking the whole thing in. The retreat was stunning. set atop a huge hill overlooking the lake. It was painted bright orange and lime green and in the courtyard outside was a long table, lots of wicker chairs. The Didi told us that the huge thermos on the table would be "always be full of herbal tea. No matter what." And before long we were joined by everyone else as the afternoon yoga class finished. I was introduced to Durga, the beautiful smiling wife of the yoga teacher Asanga. Katy, the girl who me and Myke befriended on our bus journey to Pokhara was there, and so were about 15 other beautiful, smiling people. After exchanging some friendly formalities with the group, Durga led Nikki and I by the hand, through the courtyard and down some steps into a little secluded garden. A little row of huts stood between the flowers overlooking the edge of the cliff. This would be hour home for the week, and through our little Nepali home, and a host of run-ins with enormous spiders, Nikki and I became close as could be in no time.

Every day, the ashram would be woken at 5am for morning pre-meditation exercised and meditation, then for a brisk walk across the surrounding hills, and herbal tea back at the ashram. Then we would go through a session of ‘yogic cleansing’. The involved pouring salt water into one nostril and out of the other and snowrting out the excess water with a host of different breathing exercises. After only a couple of sessions it had already succeeded in clearing up my Kathmandu-induced cold. Then It didn’t take many sessions of this to completely clear up my Kathmandu-induced cold. Then after breathing exercises (pranayama) we would have an hour of morning yoga, by this point, absolutely exhausted and starving for breakfast. We finally sat down to breakfast at 10am, and the food never ceased to amaze me. I had been craving healthy food ever since arriving in Pokhara where I had been mostly living off obscure tourist menus, and it was such a treat to be treated, three times a day, to Durga’s incredible home cooking. For breakfast we would have ice cold mango lassi, mueslie topped with curd and fruit and herbal tea, and it was always the highlight of my day. After breakfast the group would be treated to either a steam bath or mud bath on the roof, where we would dry off in the sun before hosing each other down. Then after a couple of hours relaxing in the gardens and performing ‘karmic yoga’ (basically, chores), we could have a delicious dahl bhaat for lunch. The afternoon consisted of surprisingly addictive chanting and then more yoga, and be the time dinner came around we would be ready to wolf down a nepali feast, with the Didi forcing every second, third and fourth helping on us that we could manage. We spent the evenings relaxing around the table in our wicker chairs, discussing our travels, joking around, platying cards talking about home…The group bonded so much over the week we soon began to feel like a family, and the variety of people staying at the retreat made for very enjoyable company. Nikki and I were practically joined at the hip, and along with our other close friends Katie and Kate made quite a name for ourselves around the place. The week flew by and I couldn’t believe how good I began to feel after just a few days. I really didn’t want to ever leave. We all grew so ridiculously close and had so many inspiring and funny experiences together.

Some of my fondest memories were having mud baths on the roof, and distraxting the paragliders that flew over head as we ran about naked in the sun, being saved from spiders the size of my hand time and time again by my hero, Nikki. We would sit up all night talking about our lives back home and when I hugged her goodbye on the last day I couldn’t stop crying. Another day I went out for the day into Mahandrapul, the nearest town, wth Durga and another guest, Carolyn. We went shopping for clothes, had kurta’s made at the tailor, bought street food and bought some nepali drums. On the final evening in the ashram, during a power cut, Durga, myself and our friend Barbara sat in candlelight drumming and chanting late into the night. It was so magical.

When the time came to finally leave, it was like saying goodbye to a family. I gave an especially big huge to Nikkie and to Durga, who had made my time there especially special, and as I did Asanga grabbed the two of us and turned it into a big group hug, and then I left my new yoga family to return to the real world. Walking into town with my drum on my back I felt like I was seeing everything in a new light. I felt fit and healthy and revitalized by the extreme yoga and meditating. It was so strange to see that nothing in Pokhara had changed, and the feeling of being alone on my own new adventure felt equally strange.

But suddenly, as I walked down the road towards Butterfly Lodge, a huge dreaded figure came bounding across the road, arms wide, and lo and behold it was Myke! I was so happy to see him and as he ushered me into a nearby restaurant he explained he hadn’t been able to go to Chitwan because the maoist strikes had closed down the roads, and he introduced me to some new friends he had made.

I was introduced to Freya, a girl from the UK, Marcia, a girl from Montreal, and they were all now staying at Butterfly Lodge together. As we caught up and headed back to the lodge I was also introduced to Andy from England and Yvan, a Swiss para-glider. It was Andy’s last day in Nepal so we decided to go on a hike to the world peace pagoda. A hike that ended up becoming a huge adventure. I got leeched! And it was quite traumatic. Then while we were stood at the top a huge storm blew in and we had to scale down the sheer rock faces in the pissing rain and crazy wind, to try and get Andy back in time for his bus! All in all it was a crazy and bonding experience and by the time we got off the local bus dripping wet in the afternoon rain I was so happy to have met them all. That night Andy left us and we were sad to see him go. He had been traveling for 11 months and was making his final trek to India after visiting something ridiculous like 42 countries. And for the past week it has been me, Marcia, Yvan, Freya and Myke getting living in one room in Butterfly Lodge and having adventures aplenty. After myexhausting trekking and yoga experiences it has been really nice finally relaxing and socializing for a while, and the gang of us have taken up a residency in a local bar called Laila’s. We’ve become really close with the guys who work there, and some of the other regulars, including a crazy English guy called Babaji, who has dreads down to his knees and a motorbike. We have been having parties in our dorm every night, spending the days relaxing in hammocks, reading, playing pool on leila’s bar’s wonky pool table, taking boats out on the lake and exploring pokhara. One afternoon, Shakim and his friend drove us out to a fish 'restaurant' on the other side of lake Phewa Tal, and we had an amazing fish curry fresh from the lake. However, what he described as a ‘restaurant’ was, to us, a little metal shack, and as we were eating a storm blew in so violent I thought we must be in a hurricane. The lake and mountains seemed to be swallowed as gale force winds whipped up the water, pelting down hailstones on the roof with deafening force and lightening flickering across the sky, cracking out right above us. It was terrifying, and we had to just cing on to the tables as the rain came in through the htu sideways, the lightening was so loud I was sure we wee going to get hit any moment, and it was probably one of the most epic weather-based experiences I’ve ever had. That storm signified the beginning of the monsoon in Pokhara, and since then, every afternoon the skies have darkened and emptied themselves over the town with quite a shocking amount of force. The streets turn to rivers and it’s nearly impossible to get across a lot of them. After the heat of the afternoon though it’s actually quite a relief, and we have been spending the storms relaxing inside together looking out at the rain. The only down side is that the views of the mountains have disappeared. I really feel like Pokhara is a sort of home now, and I’m so glad I am here with the people I am here with. They are all amazing, and we work so well as a group. Marcia had to go back to Kathmandu to fly home to Canada yesterday and it was so sad saying goodbye. But then, my spanish friend Elena from the retreat came and moved in with us instead. And Yvan, Myke, Freya and myself are still sticking together and tomorrow, I think, we are going to finally leave Pokhara and make our way towards the Kathmandu valley. There's a little hamlet on the way called Bandipur where we are going to stop to break up the journey, and then I’m sure there will be a lot more terrifying-coach-journeys-from-hell to take us back to the Kathmandu valley. The buses here are really terrifying. There are no seat belts, there's loads of landslides and they rumble along these sheer rock faces with cliffs either side of you plunging into the deepest valleys. On the last one my knuckles where literally white for about 6 hours of the journey, and now the monsoon has arrived I'm even more anxious. I’m looking forward to getting on the road again, but it has been so nice spending enough time in Pokhara to become a regular face, and to get to know all of the locals.

I have now began to draw up a rough itinery for the rest of the trip, and it’s strange but it feels as though the end is coming around already. It feels as though I’ve been ehre forever, and I really don’t know how I am going to feel about coming home. I feel as though I could happily stay here for another year, there is so much to see and taking it at the pace we have been has been so nice. I’ve met so many amazing, funny and lovely people, and I feel so lucky we are now continuing the journey on together.

So tomorrow, Yvan, Freya Myke and I should be heading off and finally leaving Pokhara, all our friends and the Butterfly lodge behind. Then it's on to Bandipur, the Kathmandu valley, more trekking, more temples, rafting the Sun Koshi for ten days, going to the tea plantations in Ilam, then making our way to the holy city of Janakpur before crossing the border into India. I cannot bloody wait.