I wrote and submitted a piece to HerStry this week. It’s a frank and honest tale of the pitfalls of my love life and it’s the first time I’ve spoken…
The Hitchhiker
I caught his eye as I took my own off the road.
The Shaman
“I could feel the air in the room vibrating as he cleared the negative energies from the man who had come to visit.”
Landing (on my feet) in La Paz
Dio was everything a chef should be. Firstly, there was the name. I never managed to catch what it was short for (nicknames were used widely in this house, and…
Ayahuasca.
I’m slumped on a dirty mattress in an abandoned hut in the middle of the jungle, dry-heaving into a bucket while a shaman whacks me over the head with a bundle of dried leaves.
Pilpintuwasi
“Pilpintuwasi” is Quechua (native language of South America) and translates to “Butterfly house”.
THE HEAD SHAVE.
“Don’t shave your head. Don’t do that to the world,” said Victor, before he took my face in his hands and kissed me.
I shoved him off and, thankfully, didn’t listen to him.
FURTHUR, said the bus
FURTHUR, said the bus.
En La Selva
A piece on finally fulfilling a life-long dream of mine – to set foot in the Amazon rainforest.
The Feel of a Place (and discovering Kundalini)
“Sometimes, it feels like a place and I share the same soul”