Peace

This evening, at 8.48 pm, we celebrate the winter solstice. Light starts to return to the Northern Hemisphere and we move towards a new cycle of life.

I returned from NZ in a hurry on December 7 as pain rudely interrupted the wonderful holiday I was having. Louise spent the first 3 weeks of November with us and my sister took us down to the South Island to see Mt. Cook. The scenery in the South Island is out of this world.

On October 19 I heard from the Philadelphia experts that they could see 2 new tumours in my imaging from October 6. My perfect holiday is over and I must fight for more treatment. The fight is not going well at the moment but I always hope for good news soon.

In just a few days we will celebrate Christmas with family and then prepare for a new year, filled with joy and hope.

Peace and love to all.  May 2016 bring joy and calm.

Off we go again!

Today, after months of preparation, I leave for New Zealand to spend some time with my sister and to enjoy all of the delights of a beautiful part of the world. There is much gardening on my horizon!

My diagnostic imaging at the beginning of October showed that there is no growth and no spread of cancer in my body. The miracle continues. There is no other word for it.

To celebrate my wellness I decided to run a half marathon on Thanksgiving weekend, the 40th anniversary of my arrival in Canada. The run was made more special as my son ran beside me all the way on a perfect running day, cool, no wind, bright and clear. What joy!

And now, my best news! I have committed to running the Two Oceans Ultramarathon in Capetown on March 26 next year. I will not be alone!  It will be an amazing experience running from the Atlantic to the Indian Ocean and back! I have miles to go before I sleep!

Wishing all my friends happiness and wellness on the journey!

Here we are on Thanksgiving weekend after our run!

 

Summer

Our perfect summer took a one week break but is back today. The week ahead looks as perfect as the months of sunshine and warmth we have enjoyed on the West Coast.  It was wonderful to get some rain to help the plants and trees out. Our children are back in school and the world returns to normal!

I had fun yesterday on a stand up paddle board...

I have been well. I am feeling strong. I have several cancer appointments over the next few weeks and I hope the outcome will be positive. In mid October, if all is well,  I will head for New Zealand again.

It is time to plan the next big crazy adventure..........

Bad Episode!

Twenty-four hours after my return from Ireland to Victoria, I was in pain. I didn't recognize the pain. It was new and different. I tried to ignore it, sometimes a very powerful pain control method. I went to bed at the usual time but awoke at 2 am with unforgiving and constant pain. It was so severe that bouts of nausea would sweep over me and I would struggle to get to bathroom in time.

By 9 am I decided it was time to seek help and Louise took me to emergency. Once again, words can't express enough praise for the kind of loving care that our doctors and nurses are able to show in ER. Our much maligned health system has consistently taken care of me with great compassion. I was quickly out of pain with an unprecedented and almost overwhelming dose of IV morphine.

A CT scan revealed that I had acute appendicitis and would have surgery as soon as possible. A merciful surgeon came to reassure me I was on his list and he would get to me by midnight.

Sure enough, at 11.30 pm, I was lying helpless and vulnerable on the operating table. By 1 am I was back in the recovery room and slept until 4 am. On waking, I decided I would demonstrate independence as early as possible in the hope of early release! I was so successful that I was home at 9 am!

I am now two weeks into recovery. All dressings are gone. I had no stitches. I was simply taped together! I am itching to get back to exercise. As the appendix had ruptured by the time the operation took place, I had to take heavy doses of antibiotics to ward off peritonitis. Lassitude and weakness are always the result, but I am now starting to feel as if I can get back to normal very quickly.  What joy to be alive, well and without pain!  

Summer is in full swing. Every day is long, warm, bright and perfect!

Here are two pictures from an Irish ditch! A superb place to party!

 

Ireland

An idyllic country scene close to my home

On May 13, I arrived in Dublin by air from Toronto. I rented a car and headed for the beautiful city of Birr in the middle of the country. I stayed with my brother and sister-in-law in their very old and beautiful townhouse, three floors of elegance and style. A young nephew was also kind enough to accompany me to Birr and the four of us had a good time together, walking, reminiscing and relaxing.

Two days later I drove to Co. Wexford, where I was born, and stayed with a beautiful cousin and her family. From there I was able to visit with many more relatives and catch up with their stories. The weather was unusually kind to me and we enjoyed lots of sunshine and very little rain.

I had a chance to review some family history documents and gather some information that was new to me. For a long time now I have been gathering information about our family history.


During my visit I was struck anew by the heart-aching beauty of Ireland, the fascination of its complex human history and the natural friendliness of its people. I feel very lucky to have been born in such a wholesome, safe and healthy environment. I give thanks frequently for the loving care of my parents.


I returned to Victoria on May 28. Summer appears to be well under way! Hooray!

Health Update

The results of my PET scan on May 5 show stable disease - no growth of tumours and no new tumours. My immune system continues managing to contain the cancer. How perfect is that?! For 16 months now I have been enjoying this respite. Every good day is a bonus. I feel on top of the world and fully in it. On Tuesday I travel to Ireland, land of my birth. This will be such a happy visit! Peace and love, Nigel

Beautiful Bonaire!

After the rigours of the Boston Marathon, I headed straight for Bonaire, a small island in the Southern Caribbean and a diving Mecca, to recover from the excesses of marathon running. I have family there, with a beautiful, welcoming and comfortable home. I spent the week relaxing, walking, doing yoga, swimming, eating and drinking like a king and diving every day.

The extraordinary thing about Bonaire diving is that the entire shore is a reef so one just walks or jumps in, and the dive begins immediately. There is no need for unpleasant engines or boats. The pleasure begins as soon as one is in the beautiful clear and warm water. 

In addition the reef is one of the healthiest and best protected in the world. Coral, fish and all kinds of sea creatures are abundant. It is a veritable wonderland, filled with colour, intriguing shapes, varying light, endless variety and some of the strangest creatures that exist on the planet! Just as we exited from my final dive, we saw a large octopus, slithering about on the rocks in the shallows, almost too close to us, in search of its favourite molluscs. It is able to change colour to hide almost anywhere. It is definitely one of the stranger creatures on earth!

On the edge of the reef, where the deep water begins, one often sees very large fish hunting for prey. All over the reef live a cornucopia of fish and other creatures that co-exist in relative peace. Of course, all creatures eat other creatures or plants in order to survive, just as we do. Sometimes one can even glimpse these violent moments actually transpire, the chase and the swallow. Some fish merely graze on the algae that grows on the reef. The more one learns about underwater life, the more enjoyable diving becomes. 

Learning to become relaxed and comfortable underwater is a lengthy process and it helps to have expert guides as I do. I certainly reached new heights, (or depths!) this time and I spent several hours in bliss in this alternate world. I have now done 40 dives and spent more than 30 hours underwater. It takes that long to learn how to be competent, to control buoyancy and be able to move at will up and down and side to side, in and out, using just one's breath and legs.

On top of Brandaris, Bonaire's highest point......

There are many more levels of expertise available to the diver and if I am lucky, I may be able to enjoy more training in the future. For now, I am happy that this week was just perfect! And now, I am homeward bound. Victoria, and serious matters,  await! On May 5 I have my next PET scan in Vancouver to see what the monster inside is doing. I promise to let you know. Peace and love, Nigel

On friends

We are blessed to have friends. When I decided to run Boston one more time, I mentioned it to friends. Slowly, the group going to Boston swelled. Some were already qualified to enter while others had to struggle to run a good marathon in time to enter Boston. Some tried but did not make it. 

While I lived in South Surrey I joined a running group called Peninsula Runners. There I met an extraordinary group of people from all walks of life, drawn together in pursuit of fitness and wellness. Some came and some left over time but a core group remained, even as they went through major transitions in their personal and professional lives. Running was the thread that held us together, the glue that bound us together.

In tribute to those friends who travelled to Boston together, and to those we met there, here is a ridulous picture taken as we finally reached the start line! All the suffering lay ahead!

Thank you to all of my friends. I owe you an endless debt of gratitude. Thank you for the support and inspiration. Thank you for adjusting your speed so we could be together!  Peace and love, Nigel

Race Day is here!

A shout of grace!

Monday, April 20 2015. Here it is! The wait is over!

While the weather for the preceding week had been bright and warm, the forecast for race day was ominous. We were promised rain, cold temperatures and a strong headwind. Often, if the forecast doesn't suit us, we criticize meteorologists. When we like the forecast, we think them very clever. This particular forecast turned out to be accurate in every way. 

As we huddled from the wind in the athletes' village, the rain started. I had bought layers of street clothing in a thrift shop the day before in order to ward off hypothermia before the start of the race! As we moved towards the corrals, we slowly peeled off layer after layer and volunteers stuffed them into giant plastic bags so that they would all be back in thrift stores again! For some reason, for which no one has yet taken responsibility, the four of us ended up at the back of all 30 000 runners, with a lone police officer behind us! This would make our work even harder!

Off we went, in wind and rain, and I quickly decided that there was only one way to get through this challenge. Head down, teeth gritted, start to run and run as hard as possible for as long as possible. No thoughts of the finish line. Just survival! 

One of my friends had a racing heart after a few kilometres and needed to stop to recover. Three of us were left. Imagine our joy when he showed up again at exactly the halfway mark, as we ran through the 'scream tunnel' at Wellesley College. After the halfway mark, two of us were feeling very strong and decided to run faster. I was not amongst them! Two of us again, and on we ran downhill and uphill, heavily dressed against the chill, fighting the wind and rain, and steeling ourselves against pain and fatigue and discouragement. 

The Boston crowds were extraordinary on the day. Despite the inclement conditions, they came out in thousands and thronged both sides of the course, screaming their support. This level of community involvement makes Boston absolutely unique amongst races. A million people came out, in foul weather, to cheer on the runners. Their cheers were elixir to the sagging spirit. The crowds thickened on uphill sections and near the finish line, just where one most needed them. 

Individuals in that huge crowd manage to personalize their cheers. If you are wearing your name prominently, you are certain to hear your name called out thousands of times! I wore many maple leaves and heard Canada urged on to greatness again and again! The gifts that onlookers give to runners are pure gold. 

Boston is an extremely challenging course no matter what the weather is like, as  there is an enormous amount of hill running and there are four long serious uphill sections between miles 16 and 21, the toughest of which is called Heartbreak Hill, as so many champions have stopped and quit at just that point! 

On the day, my friend and I paid no attention to the hills. All of our 5 kilometre sections took approximately the same time. Although Heartbreak Hill made me slow and ponderous, we quickly made up for it as we crested the hill and looked down at the history-filled city. I paid no attention to my watch at all during the race. The pace was in my head. "Run as fast as you can for as long as you can"! At 3 hours 48 minutes, we crossed the finish line, 12 minutes faster than our intention. What a glorious moment! And then the pain! 

We struggled from the finish line to the comforts of our hotel. The race was over but the bliss is longlasting! How beautiful it is to be alive - to feel joy, to feel pain! Life is sweet! 

Peace and love, Nigel

Race day approaches!

The momentous day is fast approaching! Tomorrow is the 119th running of the Boston Marathon, the world's most storied road race. In the lead up to the race, we have enjoyed sparkling clear cool weather in Boston. The forecast for tomorrow is rain throughout the race and a strong headwind and very cool temperatures! We will all need to be Boston Strong.

My friends have all arrived in town now and we keep gathering, to visit the huge expo, to see the finish line being completed, to enjoy the historic city and to eat together. We laugh, we joke, we tease, we reminisce about previous Boston races and others. We are like Spartan warriors combing our long hair calmly in preparation for battle!

The 30 000 runners will have a variety of reasons for competing - some heroic, many just run of the mill. With its strict qualifying standards, one has to work hard to get here. I have come simply to celebrate being alive. There is nothing to achieve. It will be a long meditation on the joy of being sentient, continuing to be a part of this very beautiful world.

I am the luckiest of people. Not only am I able and well enough to run for four hours and love every minute of it, but I have several good friends who have gone well out of their way, made special effort and arrangements, to run alongside me. This will be an especially joyful day! 

The city is ready now. For several days already all kinds of workers have been preparing the course and the elaborate start and finish lines. A million supporters will line the sides of the route and cheer for hours on end. Their shouts and cheers of encouragement are an extraordinary human effort to relate to others. Boston owns its marathon in a way that is entirely unique in the world. There is never a quiet moment along the road. One is never alone. It is a sight to behold for the runners as they get the odd glimpse of the snake of humanity behind or in front of them as they arrive at a point where it is possible to see the route ahead or behind. In addition to the clamour of encouragement from the sidelines, one can hear the steady patter of thousands of shoes hitting the road, in deep concentration, moving inexorably back towards the city centre.

This is my third visit to Boston. In 2004, I foolishly entered because I had qualified in my first marathon. I knew nothing and I made many mistakes! A highlight was hearing the legendary native Bostonian, Johnny Kelley, speak to us at the start line exhorting us to run our best race. He had run in 61 of them himself, even winning it when he was younger. He was 96 on that day. He died in October 2004 at the age of 97, a living legend who had seen the race evolve from an amateur's greatest challenge to the world's premier professional marathon - the end of an era.  The picture above shows the famous statue of the Kelleys on Heartbreak Hill. I ran Boston again in 2006 and had an excellent run on a fine day. I had no idea what lay ahead for me on my life path.

In 2010, I was diagnosed with a tumour at the back of my right eye. It was successfully treated with radiation and I got on with my life and my running. I clearly remember doing a very fast run before the day of the surgery, and a day after I got home going out to walk, but with running shoes on, and gently easing into my first postoperative run. In March 2012, I learned that the cancer had metastasized deep into my body, and my future would be very brief. Typically, people in that situation live from 2 to 7 months. This was a very heavy burden to bear.

And here comes the best part. It is now more than 3 full years later, and I have gone from being a registered hospice patient to running in the Boston Marathon tomorrow. With the support of modern medicine, supportive and loving family and friends, I have survived. This will be a special race indeed! Hip hip hooray! Thank you for this perfect day! And tomorrow!

If you would like to track my progress on Monday, April 20, go to the website www.baa.org and enter this bib number - 24248.  

Peace and love, Nigel

Boston Bound!

Well, the time has come to hit the road again! I am off to Boston today in preparation for the 119th running of the Boston Marathon, on Monday, April 20.  Boston is the world's most famous marathon and all runners dream of running it.

For months I have been training hard to be strong on the beautiful course all the way from Hopkinton, a delightful village of heritage houses, over hill and dale, up the famous Newton Hills, especially Heartbreak Hill, and thence down into Boston. I know it is a tough course as I ran it in 2004 and 2006. This is likely to be the last time I will run it and I intend to celebrate! 

I was deeply upset by the bombings near the finish line 2 years ago that killed 3 innocent bystanders and injured hundreds. An 8 year old boy died. Just imagine the horror. He goes out to enjoy the thrill of watching the runners come in and he dies. In any event, I am running to celebrate life, love, forgiveness and redemption. I am also running to make a clear statement that no matter what happens, I will run while I can. Runners cannot be intimidated!  I have many friends who are travelling from White Rock and Surrey to run, a group of 16 in all, so we will have a very special time together.

If you would like to track my progress on Monday, April 20, go to the website www.baa.org and enter this bib number - 24248. You will then get a message every 5 ks to say I have crossed another line! I hope to complete the course in about 4 hours, laughing all the way! I will start running at 11.15 am, Boston time.

I am also running to celebrate my own survival against the odds. I will wear a shirt that celebrates the Save Your Skin Foundation, a local organization that has offered me support and comfort. There is currently no organization in BC or Canada that  funds research specifically into the rare cancer that afflicts me. I am in the process of reaching out to SYS to see if we can work together not only to raise funds, but also to support others who are stricken by this dreadful disease. To see a hopeful video recently  produced by SYS, click here: 

I'm Living Proof - A Video About Survivorship - YouTube

▶ 5:40

www.youtube.com/watch?v=2EGkPVLQvx0

Feb 18, 2015 - Uploaded by saveyourskinfdn

April 20 will be a wonderful day for me. I hope you enjoy it too. Peace and love, Nigel

A Taste of Vietnam

I have been in Hanoi for a few days and tomorrow I head for home.

I chose to stay in a hotel in the Old Quarter, not only because it is easier to get a sense of the history of the town, but it remains very much the centre of town and it is easy to walk everywhere. The hotel turned out to be on a very narrow little street but surprisingly quiet at night, given that people spend a lot of time out on the sidewalks, not only because living quarters are small, families are large, but also because it is cooler outside in the evenings. Everyone eats, plays, socializes and shops on the sidewalks. Most traffic is scooters and they are parked everywhere!

It has been an amazing experience to explore this cohesive and energetic, highly organized urban society. It is a real surprise to see how far Vietnamese society has come since the end of a terrible war in the 60s and 70s. I came of age in the 60s and well remember participating in street protests against American imperialism. I had somehow assumed that the destruction of war would permanently have held the country back. But that's 40 years ago now. It's history. Everything has changed.

I love the friendliness of the people. Tourists are as welcome as anyone else here. If anything, tourists seem just to participate more in the Vietnamese way of doing things. In restaurants, most diners always seem to be Vietnamese. The goods in the shops all seem to be for everyone, and not for tourists in particular. I must say Hanoi is a fantastic shopping town!

The food is exciting! This evening I feasted on bún bò nam bô and it was really delicious. The variations of phô have also been delightful. Coffee is of high quality and people love to eat baguettes.
There are lots of reminders that the French were here!

The hardest thing for me to do has been to learn how to cross the street. Traffic is constant and can come from any direction, even on one way streets. Junctions are comical! Scooters travel super fast along the sidewalks, and straight into the very narrow corridors into the buildings. There is only one way to get across. You work up your courage and just start walking out into the traffic. You move slowly forward and everyone drives around you. It is very dangerous to stop or step back. This is much harder to do than it sounds! It's terrifying! I find I can do it quite well by the afternoon but by next morning, the terror returns!

Ho Chi Minh

Strange to recount, but one can still see Ho Chi Minh in person. This is all the more interesting since he is now 125 years old. He rests in a very austere mausoleum and thousands of people line up every day to walk silently around him. The crowds are extremely well organized and the human chain moves inexorably forward so it does not take as long as one might fear. All bags are taken and stored and electronic equipment is taken separately and stored separately. Happily, no one takes photos! Complete silence falls on the lines of people long before they enter the mausoleum. I was firmly and silently instructed by a crisply white-uniformed honourguard to walk with my arms straight down by my sides as I am in the habit of walking with them behind me.

The Father of the Nation just looks like he is asleep. His face is fatter and generally bigger than I remember from pictures. There are very few monuments like this. It is a strange place indeed.

When I was at university I decided to grow a beard as it was fashionable at the time amongst students. Mine grew strongly only on my chin and my father used to tease me by calling me Ho Chi Minh. Ho Chi Minh is still wearing his beard but I'm not wearing mine.

The River

Some of my happiest moments in Luang Prabang were spent on the banks of the Mekong, watching as boats came and went, the sun rose and set and people went about their daily business.  Rivers provide an easy way to move about when roads are inadequate or don't exist. This leads to a different pattern of living, with villages strung out along the banks.

One day,  a long transport boat came across the river and suddenly there was a whirlwind of activity as people unloaded their goods. I could hear some very loud screaming so I watched until I could see two pigs being unloaded. They had a string tied to one back leg and the 'driver' had a little stick to guide the pig with. The pigs were not being very cooperative, especially the larger one. It kept sitting down and then would need to be tapped with the stick to get it to move again. It came to a wall and lay down alongside it. Even with prodding it remained on strike! The owner eventually picked it up in frustration and carried it over the wall! I wondered where they were going. Were they going to or coming from the market? I didn't dare think too much about their future. One never should!

to or coming from the market? I didn't dare to think too much about the future. One never should!

The Cruelty of History

Laos is a beautiful mountainous country with a low population and filled with promise for the future. Its people are gentle, kind and industrious.

It is easy to forget that from 1964 to 1973, the United States of America, leader of the modern world and promoter of Western style democracy in all corners of the globe, conducted a secret war on this beautiful land. Without the knowledge of Congress or the Senate, two presidents, obviously with the support and connivance of the military forces, decided to drop more tonnage of bombs on Laos than was dropped in the entire World War 11, making Laos the most heavily bombed country in the world per capita, in an attempt to frustrate the supply lines of the Vietcong. One third of this weaponry did not explode on contact, most of it in the form of cluster bombs, one large bomb with hundreds of little bombies inside it.

The legacy of this secret war is still a hundred deaths a year, and three hundred injuries, as people, often children, stumble upon these remaining time bombs. A sad trade has developed in the recycling of the high quality metals used in the weapons, adding to the cruelty.

A small and modest museum, one room and a short video, bear witness to this cautionary tale and the heroic efforts of well meaning organizations to comb every square inch of the countryside to clear the land and make it safe for farming and development.  There are many ways of being a hero. Visiting this small museum is a worthwhile experience.

www.uxolao.org

Luang Prabang

Nestled amongst mountains, on a high peninsula where the Nam Khan meets the larger Mekong River, shaded by mature and verdant trees even at the end of the long dry season, lies beautiful Luang Prabang, a small city of 50 000 souls. 

Laos' second city, with a civic history dating back to the 700s CE, having survived many transitions of power and for a long time the residence of kings, became a UNESCO World Heritage Site in the mid 90s and a thriving tourism town. There is a very noticeable laid back atmosphere here and the cooler night temperatures make for a very relaxed visit after the torrid heat of the daytime. 

The city is a celebration of architectural expression, both devotional and civic. Temples dominate, in all states of repair. French colonists established a strong tradition of brick and stucco building in French country style, and the moving of the capital to Vientiane has frozen these buildings in time. The Old Town is an almost perfectly preserved collection of attractive offices and fine residences of yesteryear. Tourism is now of course the economic mainstay but the purveyors of services are delightfully low key, as if inspired by the somnolent passage of history in these parts. 

This would be the perfect place to end a long South East Asian odyssey, relaxing in its warm and cozy embrace after enduring the rigours of other, more frenetic and exhausting, locations.

Myanmar thoughts

The sad recent history of Myanmar, including colonial rule from London, a Japanese invasion, assassination of a wise and visionary leader and fifty years of oppressive  military rule, seems to have done little to destroy the curiosity, energy and friendliness of its 50 million people.

It is a very large country (biggest in South East Asia) with an ethnically diverse population. While the vast majority of citizens are Buddhist, a much smaller majority are ethnically Burmese. Many of its most pressing political issues seem to continue to stem from an inability to come to terms with this diversity. While the much loved Aung San Suu Kyi in theory embraces multicultural diversity and proposes a second Panglong Conference to delineate a shared future, her words are not clear on the place of the Rohingya, or even the Kachin,  in that future.Should democracy triumph, and this seems very uncertain, this is a country that should soar in every sphere. The success of some of its neighbours will seem like stepping stones to a bright future. If only a new national vision could emerge that gave paramount importance to the environment and strove to reform public health and education above all else, what would stop them? There are tentative signs of what could emerge. While garbage is strewn everywhere and plastics are ubiquitous, here is a glimpse of the end of clean up day in downtown Mandalay, all bins picked over carefully, and everything sorted to go back into the production chain.

Of Kings and Memory

Not so many will know that the British colonial authorities exiled the last Mughal Emperor of India to live in anonymity in distant Burma. Bahadur Shah Zafar lived here, in Rangoon, with only his remaining immediate family around him (several sons and a grandson were shot), until his death in his late 80s in 1862. Not only was he the last king of a fabulously wealthy and far flung empire, he was also a Sufi saint and a mystic poet.  His grave was deliberately unmarked so that he would be forgotten. 

In 1991, during a building project, the grave was discovered and a memorial tomb built.  While the available information states that pilgrims flock to this tomb at all times of the day, I found myself completely alone except for a sleeping guard. The twists and turns of human history are endlessly fascinating.

Shwedagon

This is the most sacred Buddhist site in all of Myanmar. Its history stretches back into antiquity and glorious tales are recited of its origins. It occupies a prominent position, built on a small hill in downtown Yangon. The complex is enormous and filled with statuary, halls, and monuments surrounding the pagoda itself, which appears to pierce the sky. The vane and orb at the top are encrusted in precious jewels and the entire structure is covered in gold.

Spiritual and national aspirations combine here. Pilgrims of all faiths come to bear witness to its majesty. All around the base of the pagoda are altars for each day of the week and one prays at the altar of the day of one's birth. I had to confess I had no idea which day I was born. It is interesting that the date is more important to me than the day. I must change and grow!

All around, in the various halls, people gather to chant and meditate. There is a never ending noisy hum of human activity, yet a sense of peace pervades. Meditation proved a challenge for me as I can usually count on a peaceful contemplative location. This is anything but. And yet I persisted. The general rule of walking clockwise around temples and pagodas breaks down completely here and everyone goes every which way! A delightful chaos envelops the experience. 

The British colonial authorities were obviously unimpressed by the sacred atmosphere as they turned the entire area into a barracks and an arsenal! Arrogance or ignorance?

Yangon

Late last night I arrived in Yangon, the old capital of Burma. My journey was not so comfortable with a delayed flight, missed meal, some pain, and the tail end of a virus. However, there is a comforting efficiency and calm friendliness that makes everything work out well here. A friendly taxi driver whisked me to the hotel and pointed out all of the interesting landmarks on the way.

The hotel is quaint, clean and downtown and the counter staff go out of their way to serve. I was settled in no time, with a map, a schedule of services and a nice bottle of water! The restaurant at the hotel had closed but I was told there were two restaurants a block away so off I set late in the night. I had no trouble finding the restaurants but was a bit surprised to find them out on the busy sidewalk! I asked for a table and was asked to share with two locals, both chain smokers. This was a severe test of my ability to detach and you would be surprised. I smiled beatifically as I ordered minced fish ball soup, terror biting at my very soul. The bowl arrived and I recognized most of the ingredients. I said a little prayer and hoped that the soup had boiled for a long time as I saw tiny little quail eggs, egg white, assembled fish ingredients, all excellent hosts of bacteria! It was delicious. I had made the error of asking to wash my hands and was shown into the area where dishes were washed. I should not have gone there. However, it is now the following morning and I have survived!

I have already toured The Strand, Sule Pagoda, Indiatown, Chinatown and the local market. This is an extraordinary place, teeming with life and energy. I am charmed by the easygoing nature of Yangonians(!) and have enjoyed the hustle and bustle of downtown. It consumes energy though, and I must measure mine out carefully. The streets feel completely safe, just as all other Myanmar locations have felt. The colonial architecture, now much neglected, remains and a renaissance seems possible, even probable. The proximity of food stalls and sewers, the profane and the divine, is challenging to the senses. Five million people are thriving here so it will all work out.

Temple of pigeons!

A Dream Experience in Bagan

Bagan, a very small, dusty town, sits on the edge of the Irrawaddy, a few square miles of land on an arid plain in the middle of Myanmar.  That is the ordinary part. The extraordinary part is that it is literally filled with temples and pagodas all built between 1000 and 1200 CE. It is said that there were once 10 000 temples and it is easy to believe this claim. What remains though is the greatest collection of Buddhist architecture that exists on the planet. Wherever the eye wanders, there are ancient buildings piercing the blue sky. As soon as one climbs up high on a building, this dreamlike landscape of devotion and art comes into view. As far as the eye can see, the magnificent architectural achievements of a long ago time thrill the mind and the heart. A great empire existed here while Europe was still struggling through a very dark period and before the stones of the first cathedrals were stacked.

One glimpses a period when the great religions of India swept off the northern plains of the Ganges and took root elsewhere. There is one remaining Hindu temple built in the late 900s, a precursor of great ideas to come. The teachings of the Bhudda were warmly welcomed and great tributes were built in his name. Architects and artists must have come from near and far to make amazing innovations in building techniques and recount in a myriad of ways the life and teaching of the Enlightened One.

Time, end of empire and earthquakes have done a great deal of damage to the structures. Reconstruction, of varying quality, has kept many of the buildings safe and usable. So the modern day visitor can wander from temple to temple filled with awe and wonder, seeking out the high points in antiquity and worship. As I wandered, I could hear guides telling all kinds of stories to their audiences. In some instances, the information was clearly wrong, but does it matter? Visitors come from all over the world to spend time here. I saw many local people walking through the temples as well.

This evening, I will leave this extraordinary place but I will never forget it.

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By boat from Mandalay to Bagan

Early morning rising after a sleepless night and a short taxi ride to the jetty. Passengers are all huddled in the darkness to check in for the boat at 6.30 am, to launch at 7 am precisely. First light appears as we wait and the misty dawn permits glimpses of boats, bank, daily life on the water, temples after temples. We pass under two bridges as we leave Mandalay, both bearing scarce road traffic. The river is enormous and wide.

We settle in for the long voyage. Breakfast is served, nescafé or tea, a boiled egg, two slices of bread with margarine and jam! Delicious! 

We have comfortable assigned seats in the inside cabin, probably a hundred passengers, full boat today, and there are many extra seats on two upper decks for fresh air. It is amazing how cool it is outside, for hours. I don a sweater for the first time in ages. I wear the sweater inside the main cabin!

There is lots of time to meditate, read, gaze, ponder. The river is wide, with high sand banks all along. At one point, we had two men sitting up front with long sticks guiding us over a sandbar. We made it across unimpeded and not delayed.

We see many rafts of piled bamboo sticks tethered together as platforms.   The larger settlements along the way on either bank are peppered with temples. The boat takes the long route! We always travel from high bank to next high bank, looking for the deeper water. As we proceed, the water smoothens as the elevation change lessens. There is not a single bridge between Mandalay and Bagan.

The journey takes twelve hours. No reason is given for the extra three hours! Perhaps the water is low and speed must be reduced. 

Tourism in Myanmar

The world is not yet flocking to Myanmar and the tourism industry is clearly in its infancy. It is clear for all to see that there are few if any services available yet in many places. 

The contrast with Thailand, north, south, east and west, is complete. There, every imagined need can be satisfied. Tourists are everywhere, and in many places are the only economy. In Myanmar, one rarely sees congregations of foreigners. Temples, if crowded,  are crowded with local people. Restaurants are patronized by local people.

When Cambodia opened up for tourism, in the 1990s,  after its destructive civil war, a brutal  genocide and invasion, there was an enormous explosion of tourist infrastructure. One does not see this yet in Myanmar, despite the current ease of entering the country. 

While at times this lack of infrastructure leads to discomfort, for example when one needs to go to the bathroom, overall  it is so refreshing. The country appears lost in time. Locked into a time warp by a military regime in 1962, time has stood still. The infrastructure has simply not been built. Roads don't exist or are in ill repair. Train service is from another era. The river is the easiest way to travel. Poverty is visible everywhere.

What will the future bring?  Is it inevitable that industries will quickly emerge to satisfy every whim of the tourist?  Will the open friendliness of the people become open caginess? Will every interaction be with a tout? Who knows. For now it is an extraordinary experience to be in, and to move around in, this amazing society.

Magic and Mystery in Mandalay

Here at last, in Mandalay. My first impressions are of being somewhere really different.

The people look different. Their faces, clothing and lived environment are quite different from the rest of South East Asia. I am more reminded of India as I move around. 

The streets of Mandalay are busy and dirty and  buildings are generally drab and unkempt. The sidewalks are cluttered with shelters, furniture and goods. The roadsides are just dirt and gravel. Most traffic is scooters and bicycles. Cars have steering wheels on the right but also drive on the right. I have never seen this before. Negotiating through traffic is therefore difficult. In the absence of traffic lights, vehicles just move into the junction and claim a passage through. There is no squabbling. Horns toot, often for no apparent reason, another Indian reminder.

The friendliness of the people appears genuine. They shout out greetings and only expect greetings back. Often, people want to engage in conversation and yet they are not touts. It is delightful.

Almost all men and women, young and old,  wear longyis, the distinctive lower garment. It is tied in such a way that walking, running, squatting, etc. are all accomplished with ease. Men wear a checkered cloth, women wear all colours and patterns. Women are as publicly visible as men and are not shy to smile. They often have thanata, a yellow skin cream made from the bark and wood of a local tree, as sun protection on the cheeks.

Poverty is highly visible. One can frequently see people living in shacks made of tarps and cloth by the side of the road. There is a sprinkling of beggars but they are not aggressive at all. Homeless people sleep on benches and on the ground. 

Despite the poverty, goods are available everywhere. The public market is busy and very crowded. There is nothing one cannot buy! The highest profile businesses and the most glossy sell technology. Obviously there is a revolution under foot. Internet is widely available and cell phones are ubiquitous. Scooter operators easily operate phones on the go! People all seem busy and involved. 

Factories, large and small, but mostly small, are integrated with the city housing. Small printing presses, mills, pharmaceutical production, mechanics, gyms, streetside restaurants and carts all mix together and create a sense of energy and purpose. It is still the cooler season in February and activity does not wane in the heat of the day.

There is a beautiful coolness in the mornings. Many people, again both men and women, exercise by walking briskly in the morning. There is a whole hour of coolness before the sun heats up!

This is a unique and fascinating place to be!

I am in heaven

Don't be alarmed. The world is perfect as it is.

This weekend is the Chiang Mai Flower Festival. As winter loosens its tenuous grip on this beautiful place, I find myself in heaven. I do need to let you know there is a definite absence of vestal virgins so please spread the word to terrorists. Heaven is quite simply an orchid place.

This morning I attended a transformative yin yoga class given by an Irish yoga teacher. We will remember that in recent history an internecine war killed more than 3000 people there and yet a beautiful and passionate yoga teacher can emerge from there. At the end of class he asked us to connect with one other person and discuss conflict in one's life and how we might move to a happier place in difficult relationships. I chatted with another Irish yogi who confessed that his most difficult relationships were with his five siblings. After I listened carefully, I asked him to do his best to forget all that history and when he is with any of his siblings, just accept who they are, do not try to change them, and keep the meetings very short!

We only had a few moments but there was no need for me to talk of my own experience. I hate no one. I love everyone and everything. The world is perfect as it is. This is how we find it today. There is only this moment.  Peace and love to all.

What is happening?

My days fly by. I wake always well before dawn. I have some time for quiet contemplation before others become active. Most mornings I run as soon as there is enough light. I also attend yoga classes and meditate. The city of Chiang Mai is bursting with temples - more than 200 in the city itself.

Most days I also set out on foot to explore the city. There are surprises around every corner. The markets are ubiquitous and one wonders how any of the sellers can make a living, given that hundreds of people are selling exactly the same 'things'. There are morning and night markets in addition to 'any time' markets. There are restaurants everywhere too and the food of course is delicious. The speed of cooking, combined with a diversity of fresh produce year round and a courageous and creative use of spices, herbs  and coconut all conspire to create one of the world's most exciting cuisines. All other cuisines are also available.

Today, I decided to rent a bicycle. It took about 30 seconds to make the arrangements. Off I set on my trusty steed. I had noticed lots of people riding around, without helmets, in daylight and in the dark, and had serious reservations about the danger involved, given that roads can be insanely busy at certain times of day. However, I worked up my courage, arranged the seat at an unusually high spot to create space for legs, and launched into traffic. I soon discovered the cardinal rule for cycling here is to completely ignore what is happening behind you. Secondly, if one sees space, one moves towards it. There is nothing more to know. One can do left and right turns with gay abandon or just simply forge straight ahead, working one's way around all obstacles. It feels amazingly safe. The Thai tradition of reverence for the head (which must never be touched) presumably discourages them from crushing heads under vehicles. There is no other explanation for the careful progress of vehicles caught behind bicycles. One cannot forge ahead until the way is clear. There is no gunning of engines, no threats of swift movement and no ugly gestures. It's like a dignified path through life. Be kind to all.

However, surprises come from nowhere. When I was very far from base, I noticed the left pedal starting to become very independent. It would not engage when it was at the highest point in the cycle but would then flop forward a quarter circle in a most alarming way. I continued my progress hoping that nothing untoward would spoil my perfect journey.  As I manoeuvred through a particularly busy junction, while doing the dreaded right turn across a very busy and fast highway, the left pedal was quite suddenly not there and my left leg flailed helplessly in midair. I heard a clatter of course and found a way to get back to retrieve the nuisance pedal. I know little about bicycles and how they are put together. I do fear their anomalies however, such as screwing tight in the wrong direction and the danger of stripping threads. But I had no choice. I needed to reattach the pedal if I was to avoid walking a very long way home. I did finally get it attached, with only bare hands (by now black) as tools, only to discover that both pedals were now facing in the same direction. Back to the drawing board, and a swift hand tightening of the offending bolt, and I was on my way again, looking more like a duck with one malfunctioning wing than the smooth worldly operator of a two wheeled vehicle.

I limped to a bicycle store that I had spied earlier, and where envy had surfaced as I saw beautiful bicycles rather like the ones all of my athletic friends ride. A young man took pity on me and quickly tightened the bolt with a wrench that was longer and newer than any I have ever seen. When I offered payment I got the kind of smile that makes one weep. I muttered my thanks in appalling Thai, wiped away my tears in manly style, and rode as fast as I could back to my abode. The pedal was quickly becoming loose as I rode so I asked the owners not to rent it out again as it really was a hazard. I doubt that my admonition will make any difference but it is important to try.

Apart from the obvious excitement of such an expedition, I now have a good route identified for my next very long run. I also know where I can go for a refreshing swim after it. Life is so good, so rich, so precious.  Carpe diem!

Peace and love, Nigel

Where am I now?

On December 5 I left Victoria for Hawaii and helped my sister celebrate a special 70th birthday there. We explored Maui for the first time. It is an idyllic island with all of the modern comforts, warm clear water and beautiful beaches.

On December 15 we headed for New Zealand and I spent the next five weeks working as hard as I could on the organic orchard, which sadly is being prepared for sale. The fresh clean air, excellent nutritious food, good company and a huge amount of physical exercise has helped me regain a lot of strength, both in mind and body, that I did not expect. The recipe for good health is very simple really, but the discipline required is hard to come by!  I also started preparing seriously for the Boston Marathon in April. Louise joined us for the first two weeks of the year and joined in the fun on the farm!

On January 22, I left New Zealand for Thailand. I stopped in Melbourne and my nephew was kind enough to come out to the airport and spend a few hours with me. It is always exciting to catch up on news of his family.

I spent two days in hectic Bangkok, just catching my breath! Midday temperatures hit the mid thirties so it is necessary to adjust.  Two days ago I flew to Chiang Mai, in the north, among the mountains  and this is my home for several weeks. It offers me the opportunity to enter a period of contemplation  in a place steeped in Buddhist history. The people are delightful as always, the climate is salubrious, the food exquisite and a beautiful calm is coming my way.

I will be very quiet for a while. All of my energy will go into being present, with the breath, accepting everything, and developing a path of loving kindness for the future.  Peace and love, Nigel