Poppalina

You can call me Ariel

No photos of Sanctuary. Can you believe it? Hopefully someone will send me some, so I can post them and show you. It really is the most beautiful place. The yoga studio is particularly lovely, and they serve the best muffins in the Southern Hemisphere, but I was working hard and had neither energy nor headspace for much else. Honest.

We did get one day off, so I took Mym scuba diving on the Great Barrier Reef. Amazing experience, but the the Reef's in trouble, no doubt about it. As spectacular as it is, it made me sad, seeing all the damage that's been done. Bloody humans. There should be a law against us.

However, it's not dead yet, so enjoy some photos from the Enterprising and Exceedingly Cheeky Boys at Calypso.

First up, I nearly gave my diving instructor a heart attack, swimming off from the group in hot pursuit of these,

Completely forgetting that I hadn't learnt how to using the breathing apparatus yet.

So he occupied me with a clown fish, which was a smart move. If you put your hand in the tentacles of the anenome, the fish will dance through your fingers. That quietened me down a lot.

 

I was particularly taken with the giant clams. Spent a lot of time looking at them, pondering ways in which they might be negotiated in silk,

And I crocheted this in my head for awhile, a la Gooseflesh.

But the best part was seeing how brave my girl was. She has too much heart to refuse to scuba dive, but I know the prospect alarmed her.

She was magnificent, but was ultimately quite content to paddle about on the surface with just her face in the water and her tummy on a noodle.

I, on the other hand, could have Stayed Forever, concluding my all too brief sojourn with a victory Halasana. In fact, I would happily have never gotten back on that goddamn boat.

 

It's a blast, getting to be a mermaid, but I could never pursue it seriously. As comfortable as I am in the water, I'm afraid that, floating upon the surface, I am the Undisputed Queen of Chunder. Spectacularly, pitifully, humiliatingly so. Harpo Marx could not have vomited with more vaudevillian panache than I, all the way out and all the way back. I was so bloody sick that even the blokey blokes who ran the dive were being tender with me.

God, I hate boats.

More shots here.

Goin' where the weather suits my clothes...

Going here,

for a yoga retreat with El Duderino.

 

And not a moment too soon, mate. Everybody's talkin' at me.

Will return with mucho pictures, and gifts that say "Shula went to Sanctuary Retreat and all I got was this stupid Tshirt" Or maybe a postcard showing topless boobie girls making witty double entendres involving frankfurts. Do they sell those at eco retreats? Is there a place on the planet that doesn't sell them?

See you Monday week.

x

Free Burma

 

Participate here.

Dying Happy

For CSH, as promised.

I don't profess to be a motorbike expert, and I can't ride, but I was raised with bikes and love them. And I can tell you this: there is nothing in the world more satisfying than riding around Bombay on the back of an Enfield. It's better than sex.

I can't tell you much about it, other than it has the most beautiful note, is fabulously comfortable, especially with your arms around the waist of a Big Blokey Bloke, and that you will turn heads absolutely everywhere you go. Of course, you will pretend not to notice. You will be acting all nonchalant and breezy, but privately tripping out on the fact that you are finally getting to ride without a helmet.

Fall off the back of this baby and you are almost certainly cactus. You will be run over by several large trucks, a dozen-odd Ambassador taxis, two pushbike riders and a Brahmin bull before anyone even notices. 

But you'll die happy, I promise.

Merry Christmas

Peace Shrine, originally uploaded by poppalina.

We're outta here.

Will try to post from Bombay.

Have a safe and happy Christmas, and thank you for all your support over the last 6 months. It's been most appreciated.

Shula, Mym and Angel. xo