'LEST YE BE TRANSFORMED AS ONE OF THESE...'

I'm writing this in Madikeri having driven in on the back of a motorcycle. In the morning air here the drive is amazing (I keep on using that word but its the only one I can think of!). A dear friend of mine who passed away a year or so ago once said that the quality of green in England is second to none. Well the quality of blue in the sky here is the same. I have never seen the like. And the night skies... Well let's just say that the colours one sees - blues, whites, reds - are unforgettable...

At the moment, I am sitting in an internet cafe in Madikeri typing this after two powercuts (great fun but an occupational hazard here). Madikeri is the administrative capital of this province of Koorg. I had been here a couple of times in the afternoon and had thought it pretty grotty - hot, dusty, noisy, polluted, concrete and, let's face it, for a green foreigner, pretty scary. But now being here in the morning with the sun blazing it is beautiful. Plus I have popped my cherry to do with wandering around an Indian city on my own. Its a great experience. All life is bursting out everywhere. Total chaos but total vibrancy. And once again, the people are so friendly! No-one queues, everyone just crowds a shop stall, whether its a clothes shop or a chemist and hopes to be heard. You get big smiles from everyone and it seems to be customary to be asked which country you are from as you leave. I am told this is a kind of 'collecting' of nations. Just as I love to meet people from different countries, so do they. Its lovely.

A tricky thing is getting used to the currency. Everything is very cheap here and even with the weak pound there are 75 Rupees to one pound sterling. You find yourself taking thousands of Rupees out of an ATM or being asked for a thousand or so for a SIM card only to discover you have barely taken out a tenner. That is odd, but also nice.

Everything here in the cities is on top or everything else. As you walk through the streets of Madikeri with tiny shack-like shops calling themselves optimistic things like INTERNATIONAL CLOTHES EMPORIUM or SHANTI ELECTRICS one suddenly discovers a bright green Temple to Rama in the fork of the road. And while everything else is rundown, this Temple is kept pristine and beautiful. Another lovely feature is the presence of holy names everywhere. One finds the Sri Rama Taxi Service, Shakti Bus Service or the Imma Durga Laundery. The spirituality of the nation is so woven into its fabric that even the most mundane things carry the names of the gods. It would be the equivalent of John The Baptist Car Service or Holy Spirit Electricians companies in the UK...

But back to the kids. Tonight I return to stay on the grounds of the school. I will be sleeping in a hut but its more than compensated for the presence of the children, the sound of whose voices and laughter wake you in the morning. Their English is stunning and they are a delight to have classes with. Even if one is exhausted by the end of the day a few hours just watching them play completely purges you of any tiredness. Yesterday one of the English guys, Will, taught a group of them how to make paper aeroplanes and they were all running around throwing these little things in the sky. They make little toys for you and drawings too. They love a good hug and nothing better than being carried around the gardens on your arms.

Apart from anything else they are just very, very happy. They sleep on the floors of the two main buildings here but never look uncomfortable and they never seem to lose any energy. What is also wonderful to behold is how they watch out for each other. If one of them falls over another one will go to look after them. They seem never to fight and if a new kid shows any violent tendencies, they quietly tell them off and calm them down.

This is in part to do with the nature of the kids, which is so lovely, but it is also a tribute to the atmosphere that the founders of the school, Michael and Aleli have created. All I can say is that they have genuinely created a real loving atmosphere here where the children feel safe and happy and surrounded by love. For a cynical Brit who wants to be less cynical, all I can say is its all real. I have not seen anything negative here. For proof, ask yourself why I would want to move back into a hut to be near everyone if there was any shadow.

All the teachers here, with the exception of myself, Tom and Will who are only temporary, are devotees of Sai Baba. Sai Baba is a living Indian saint, or at least a Holy Man, who has many followers all over India of all religious backgrounds and caste. In the West, he remains controversial in some quarters because of accusations of charlatanry and sexual abuse, but if the teachers here are anything to go by, this is most probably slander. This school and countless others exist because of Sai Baba, who is behind hospitals and similar establishments all over India. The teachers here speak incredibly highly of him and are wonderful people. It doesn't seem like a cult of any kind and nothing is pushed on you (ie no-one is being encouraged to follow Sai Baba). What can I say? I guess we all just have to see for ourselves! What is nice is that they all quite freely talk about life with a spiritual dimension, so you can have conversations of a certain type quite freely without being thought of as a crank or being laughed at. I am finding it a very healing experience. Just being with the kids transforms you. Whether I will suddenly become a hippie and follow Sai Baba is another thing, but this is a special place. They are always looking for people to come out and teach for a little while, so if anyone wants to come over for a month or a few weeks, feel free to get in touch with them via the website: www.childrensproject.org. Although they can't fly anyone out, they can feed you, put you up comfortably and look after you!

I say that. If you live on the grounds of the school it is pretty spartan but you quickly get used it. If you prefer something more comfortable, there is a house down the road owned by the mother of the two brothers who own the land the school is on. Its really nice - rather like a hotel - and the mother not only cooks wonderfully but is very loving and kind. Indian codes of hospitality are very great and staying there is wonderful. So you takes your pic! Wall to wall kids or wonderful cooking and a comfy bed. :-)

So what else? Well, we shall see. Next weekend I am off to visit the Tibetan Buddhist Refugee community nearby, the largest in India, even more than Dharamsala where the DAlai Lama lives. I am told it is a special place to visit. The weekend after that, Mysore, where Tipu Sultan fought the British during the Raj. After that, as I finish my time with the school, I start my travels in earnest, starting with Cochin in Kerala, home of the oldest Jewish community outside of Israel in the world...

So lot's to come! And more adventures to be had!

CHILDRENS PROJECT 2

Right. So. More detail.

I arrived here last Saturday night, utterly relieved to have got out of Mumbai. As we taxied off the runway you could see the shacks of the slums pressed up against the walls of the airport. As I think I intimated before, if one has any care for one's fellow man, Mumbai is a shock. I later read that the 18m people living there are being accentuated by unscrupulous politicians bussing people in and letting them live in the slums in return for votes. It was a Bollywood actress who was protesting about this. Clearly someone is trying to raise awareness. To my surprise, another actress (or rather 'actress') raising awareness is one Pamela Anderson who has personally written to the Mayor of Mumbai not to cull the stray dogs. She has suggested neutering them instead so as to stop them spreading the population. I am not sure, but I suspect Pam has never been to Mumbai as if she did, she would know that it simply doesn't have the resources to do such a thing. Having said that, the Mayor has apparently written a lovely letter back apologising that the cull has to go ahead but next time she is in town, she should pop in to see him and he would be happy to chat with her personally (he didn't mention that she could bring her two friends with her but I am sure that is taken as read).

Arriving at Bangalore and being driven to the School, though, was magical. I was not prepared for how lush and green India is - or at least this part of India, Kanataka. Once we started driving, I was staggered by the expanse. Coming from the UK, you are not used to feeling you are part of a vast country. I am sure this does something to the psyche. It effects the soul, as I am sure any Americans or Russians reading this will agree.

THe drive was, as I say, beautiful. We stopped off for a simple curry and enjoyed the heat and atmosphere. On the way, the standard of living I saw from the car was no worse than places like rural Turkey or Greece, in many instances better. Again, people didn't look unhappy. The beauty of the landscape was on offer, something I assume they didn't get in Mumbai.

It was a ten hour drive so arriving at the school I felt pretty numb. At first I was a bit scared. It was very dark and conditions were primitive. I was billeted in a small hut with another guy - a lovely bloke called Tom. There was very little light and one toilet/shower which the teachers used. But it was swarming with kids. And after the first night, to be awakened by the sound of the kids playing and the cawing of the birds was magical. Two days in I was smelly and stiff but just loving playing with these wonderful kids in this sublimely happy atmosphere. Although I was pleased to be moved temporarily to a house nearby for a week for accomodation, it hurt to leave the children, even after only a day or two.

So, the school. Its run by devotees of Indian Mystic and Guru Sai Baba. Michael and Alili, the couple who founded it, are dedicated to helping street kids and Untouchables have a chance to be safe, loved and educated. It was Sai Baba's idea as far as I can see and so far, is working wonderfully. If you saw these kids, they would break your heart with joy. There are about 40 of them, ranging from tiny little ones to teenagers. Over the weekend, they play all day - boardgames, a swing, a hammock - and that's about all. The openness and warmth they show is overwhelming. They are always giving you hugs, offering to do things for you, wanting to play. On my first day, barely awake, ten of them took me off for a walk. Two tiny hands appeared in my hands - a boy and a girl wanted to walk either side of me - and I was taken into the fertile plantation lands above the school for an adventure and a race through the leaves....

Untouchables are children who belong to the lowest level of teh Indian caste system. As such they have no real prospects and would normally never get near any kind of decent education. Some of the kids were found dumped on rubbish tips, most have alcoholic parents and histories of abuse and yet you wouldn't know it from the happines you see all around you. These are some of the most beautiful, joyous kids I have ever met. One of the teachers, Julia, said to me on the first day that she learnt from the kids. A few days in I knew exactly what she meant. It gave me more pause for thought. What is it we do to kids which turns them into unhappy adults? What are we doing to our own kids in the West that turns them that way? In this tiny school the possibilities for play are endless, even though the physical resources are virtually nil. These kids just love love love being alive and running around.

Its clear from the towns I have seen that ordinary Indian life is pretty tough. What Michael and Alili and the other volunteers working here have done is extraordinary. THese kids have an extended family of what I can only say is pure love. On the second day Michael brought four new kids and the way the others gathered round them, hugged them and vowed to take care of them was amazing. One kid, Suresh, who is known as my 'Limpet' because every opportunity he gets he jumps on me and wants to be carried around, could barely move when he came, it appears. After two months of real investment in him from Michael, he is now a joyous little kid.

Lives are being turned round here and little is being asked in return. It is very inspirational...

More later!

THE CHILDRENS' PROJECT

Well I made it out of Mumbai in one piece. The journey out was ok. Having spent a long evening holed up in my room with the 24hr honking horn chorus serenading me outside I made it to the airport and off to Bangalore.

And then everything changed. I was met at the spanking new airport there by a driver set up by the man who runs the Children's Project, Michael Galligan and then out through the countryside of India to Koorg (not Mysore!) where I am teaching.

What can I say? India is beautiful. Unutterably beautiful. While I was a tad traumatised by Mumbai I don't regret going as the amazing glory of the sun and the green and the countryside was all the more special.

I'm in an Internet Cafe with not much time so I will quickly knock out the main headlines...

I arrived at the Project late at night. At first I was a little terrified as it was pitch black and I found myself sharing a hut with a guy from Ireland called Tom Sherry. It was all a little primitive - no toilet nearby, warnings not to go out after lights out because of the dogs on the premises - and I was still reeling from Mumbai and the ten hour drive but...

Now, three days in, I am having a wonderful time. This is a very special place. The children here are beautiful and fill the small grounds of the school with a kind of force-field of love. This may sound sentimental but I'm afraid its 100% true. Tom and all the other people working here are lovely and have been hugely welcoming and helpful. I am having the time of my life. Rest, beauty and learning. I am learning - from all the people around me, especially the kids.

No time to go into detail now but I will later. There are many extraordinary things to say. But until then, this is a truly special place.... Blessings to everyone!

:-)

SLUMDOG TRILLIONAIRE

So. Two days in and this is my last night in Mumbai before I head down to Mysore and the school in the hills I will be working at,

So what has it been like? First off - everything they tell you about Mumbai is true. It is a massive, sprawling, chaotic, vibrant city. My introduction was at 6am via a madcap drive through the city to my hotel. We drove through the night past every kind of slum, braving the hooting lottery of the streets and buzzing past cows ambling through the streets. When I got to my hotel I panicked a little as it looked like a bomb had hit it (and the street around it). A typical Western reaction - but inside it was fine and everyone was very friendly. Rather beautifully, as I and the taxi driver were unsure if it was the right place, out of the night appeared a Muslim gentleman on a bike offering to help. He immediately put us straight. Really nice of him.

And this is the second cliche about Mumbai which is true - for all the poverty, people are happy - or at least upbeat - and incredibly kind. That evening I spent with two friends of friends in the Uk - Dr Pradhan and his wife. They took me to a terrific restaurant, to some theatre and then to a party afterwards. I felt completely confused about where I was in Mumbai and disorientated by the enormous difference between it and anywhere else I have been. It is indeed teeming with people, the streets are rough and often non-existent. The roads are heaving with eight lanes of traffic even when there are only three lanes in the road and always is the constant honking of horns (the surefire way of avoiding crashing as far as I can see). Dr Prahdan pointed out that the other reason no-one crashes is because everyone can only drive at 20mph so there is very little danger of a collision.

My evening with the Pradhans was terrific. Wonderful people. To my astonishment, within minutes of sitting down to dinner Richard Dawkins reared his ugly head (not literally, Dr Pradhan was reading him). I wondered what on earth the Penis-Headed One would mean to anyone in India. He told me he would probably be viewed 'with amusement', not because no-one would agree with him but because his ideas were very old. That was quite interesting.

Thanks must go to the Pradhans for making me feel at home and for suggesting how to get about. A naive Westerner, being faced with the enormity of Mumbai meant that I had not a clue where to go or how to get there. Mrs Pradhan explained that the beauty of Mumbai was not its sites (there were none, she pretty much said) but its people. For all the poverty, they were happy. And she is clearly right.

Nevertheless the poverty is a challenge to a Westerner and puts in perspective everything one thinks about the world and one's own society - indeed, everything one thinks about what life is all about. People had told me this would be the case but nothing quite prepares one for it. The serenity and beauty one finds in Indian spirituality - the Bagavad Gita, the Upanishads etc - is not to be found in Mumbai. Not surprisingly, really, as it is a massive metropolis full of hedonism and celebration of life. It is so vibrant and so hectic one doesn't quite know how to take it in. Interestingly, coinciding with my arrival was the Indian premiere of SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE, which was generating a lot of controversy here in Mumbai where it is set. I haven't seen it yet (massive queues meant I couldn't see it when I was up in Manchester) but already the city is split between real enthusiasm that Indian actors and artists are up for Oscars and Mumbai is on the map again, and others who feel the film is 'poverty porn' and showing Indian society as 'a backyard'. As I say, the poverty here is real, but so is the lifeforce. I gave a child with mutilated arms my coke when he ran up to me and got a massive smile in return, for instance and on another occasion a one-armed guy came to beg at my taxi window. When I gestured that I couldn't give him anything he took a step away, then came back and gave me a big welcoming wave as if I was a friend he had only just recognised. Of course, I would rather that neither of these guys, or any of the other millions like them, have to beg or have had to suffer the loss of their limbs (appalling but it does happen as the film shows) and yet I cannot explain why or how they seem to exist in such a way and still not look miserable and depressed. Having written this I feel I may be in danger of sentimentalising the situation as so many people do. I should say that the poverty is real and it is very disturbing to see. The scale of it is huge and very hard to take in. Plus one feels very much like an intruder, aware that you will be able to get on a plane home at any time while these people will carry on as they are.

Also, I said that the serenity of Indian spirituality is not present In Mumbai. This also is not entirely true. Yesterday I found myself in a Jain Temple and there that serenity and beauty was present. Jainism sprang up about the same time as Buddhism and was founded by Mahavira, a holy man, rather like the Buddha, who reacted against the Caste System and sought a new form of Liberation. Jain Priests live lives of ascetic purity not unlike those lived by the Cathar Parfaits of the Middle Ages and seek Liberation for all humanity over successive lives. The prime ethos is 'non-violence' of either thought or deed and respect for every soul, human, animal and plant. Like Buddhism, there are no 'gods' as such, just the path of Liberation for the soul. Its a very simple, highly respected spirituality, viewed benignly by all the other religions of India, although it boasts far fewer followers than Hinduism or Islam.

The Temple was very beautiful, lush and ornate but not ostentatious. In the bustle of the street it still maintained its calm and spirituality. A ritual was clearly going on as bells were being rung in that haunting way one finds with the Eastern Religions. The Jains present were primarily women in colourful Saris. One, an old woman sitting by the entrance praying to the altar, struck me powerfully, the intensity yet calm of her spirituality being almost tangible. She reminded me of a similar woman I saw in Rumi's Lodge in the Turkish city of Konya. Very moving.

The interior of the Temple was vividly painted with altars everywhere. As I sat there taking it in I was reminded of the old adage - that no matter what religion you are part of, the actual spiritual experience, if it is pure and real, is the same. And if one looks at the altar, be it adorned with the Buddha, a Menorah, Christ or whoever, if one understands that it is representing something deep within yourself - ie Christ or Krishna are not WITHOUT you but expressions of something WITHIN you - then you are truly connected.

So that was my first big emotional/spiritual experience in India. Not bad for Day Two! Out of the chaos of Mumbai I saw something special form which reminded me of the validity of that side of ourselves. Where everything else seemed to militate against such aspirations in the sheer struggle to get by, this Temple reminded me of the focus and the dignity of the Spirit when it is properly understood. Take this away and the people here would have nothing. If there is a real value to true spirituality it is to restore your dignity and sense of self. It is proper humanism, mystical humanism, if you like...

The next day, Day Three, however, I was knackered and, mindful that to get anywhere in Mumbai would take four hours there and back, decided to take it easy and stay in the hotel. I don't regret it! I have to be up at 6 tomorrow to get my flight down to Bangalore. The people at the Childrens' Project have arranged to pick me up and bring me to Mysore and the school. So good of them! It will take me a while to get used to the rythmn of India. Thank you to them for helping me work this bit out!

Next installment when I can! More contradictions and surprises to come, no doub! Until then, bye, bye for now!

48 DAYS TO LANDFALL

So... Here I am on my last day in the UK, about to go to India. Tomorrow I catch a flight from Heathrow at 10.30am and arrive in Mumbai the day after. Exciting... and scary at the same time!

Last night I had some farewell drinks in the Chandos Pub in London to say bye bye to some good friends. It was a really nice gathering, with people coming and going as the evening wore on. I felt a huge sense of gratitude to everyone who was there wishing me on. Thank you to Stuart (who inspired the whole trip in the first place!), Anita, Tanya, James, Andy, Kobna, Sarah, Sara, Sarah-Louise (I know a lot of Sarahs. Thank God they all spell their names differently!), Jeremy and Suzannah and to all those who couldn't be there but sent me good wishes. And thanks Tanya and James for that beautiful gift of the book!

As I sat with everyone and we drank and chatted and laughed into the evening I felt very lucky. This has been a big 18 months for me. I have been looking forward to this experience for a long time. But over this last week I have had real doubts - partly, no mainly because over the last four or five months I have grown so close to so many people. When I made the big decision to leave I had none of those things, or at least I thought I didn't. I was very unhappy. Now I am freer life is richer, more meaningful and I have grown to love many people. Its hard to suddenly let go of what you have wanted for so long just when you have got it. So to all those special to me - here is a big, sentimental hug!

So what advice can I give everyone on the lead up? How can I help if you are getting ready to go to India? Well first of all, don't panic about all the health advice you will be given. I have no idea how I will fare out there but the Mt Everest of Dos and Don'ts I got almost killed me! This is not to say I wasn't grateful, but at a certain point I started to think I was going to fall ill and die as soon as I stepped off the plane. I still want to say thank you to everyone for their advice as I am going to follow it, but in the stress of getting everything together I almost burst a fuse! Although I have to say that some of the advice has already done wonders for me. Acidophilus, for instance, is a miracle! I was advised to take it to boost the stomach's defenses and I have to say, even before going I am feeling great! So have a go at that!

I am stocked up with conventional remedies, herbal remedies, homeopathic remedies etc so by the time I return I will be a walking encyclopaedia of therapies and will be able to argue with Richard Dawkins or take his side next time he fires off about alternative medicine. It will be fun.

There's a lot of debate about whether or not to get the jabs needed for the journey. I did. Others don't. I think its a good idea but I will warn you that if you are going for as long as I am (six months) make sure you start the process a long time in advance. If you don't, as I did, they cram them all in in the time available and with all the different vaccines swirling around in you you will most likely get ill, which is what happened to me. Thank God someone knew the drill and told me what it was, as had I not know, I would have thought there was something seriously wrong with me!

Fortunately for me, I have a cousin who is a veteran backpacker around India. She saved me probably about a week of dithering by taking me around various shops and stocking me up with the right kind of gear. Everyone should have advice like that! She was brilliant. She saved me loads of money on backpacks, equiptment, which kind of elephant gun to buy (I'm joking, of course, it was just a revolver) and so on... Equally fortunate for me, I have many friends with contacts out there who have put me in touch with people all round the country who I can meet who have offered to show me around. So its great. Thank you Gillie, Michel, Eleanor, Luli, Gerry, Venu, Shobna, Hema, Christine, Leonora, Ritu and everyone else. You have been great!

Its going to be a real adventure.

And as I prepare to do my last minute.com packing, I will leave you with this beautiful quote from my friend James about travelling. He got it from his father. Its a great sentiment to have ringing in my ears as I head off:

"On your travels, there are no enemies, only friends you have yet to meet."

Thank you all! And speak to you soon!

WELCOME! PEGASUS ON THE RUNWAY

So welcome to my travel Blog, THE FLIGHT OF PEGASUS, which I am starting up as I make myself ready to fly to India next week. I'm writing this on a train going up to Manchester to say goodbye to some friends before I go, so in a sense I am travelling already.

The plan is to by away from the UK for six months, but this may change. Who knows? Next week I fly to Mumbai, stopping over at Kuwait City to make a connection. The flight will be pretty gruelling. Ten hours from Heathrow to Kuwait, a few hours in the airport, then arriving in Mumbai at a jovial 4.50am in the morning. Smashing. It'll be one of those classic endurance tests where you finally get to your hotel room having run on empty for hours feeling sweaty and dehydrated and then fall over unconscious on the bed. The time difference in India is about five hours ahead of the UK so my body will take some time to get used to it. Oy vay.

Friends have been amazing in helping me out with my journey. I have never been to India before and Mumbai is famous for being a massive, amazing, overwhelming city. Parachuting in and hoping a charming smile might get me round might have been a bit of a crazy thing to do. Happily, some friends of a friend there have offered to help me orientate myself, show me around and get me at least a little used to how India works. I have been living in the India of the Mind for about eighteen months now, having made the decision to go back in 2007. I have been looking forward to it all that time. Now it is nearly here I am filled with a mixture of real excitement and real fear. Everyone says India is amazing, life changing, rich and vibrant but also takes a little getting used to. And it is big. Really big. And I don't mean just REALL BIG but REALLY REEAAAAALLLY Big.

So why on earth am I going? Well, when I made the decision to change my life and strike out on my own after fifteen years of hard slog I decided I wanted to get out of the UK. I wanted to travel, to be stimulated, excited. I wanted to go somewhere where things would be an immersion in something utterly different to what we are used to here in the UK. I also wanted to go somewhere culturally vibrant and which had a rich spiritual history ie somewhere where the mystical is still alive, still part of the discourse of the society (we shall see what I will find). There were two countries which appealed - Israel and India. Having spent a year or two allowing countries to chose me, I decided to do the same with these two. I put out feelers to both to see which one would open up as a possibility. Israel quickly closed up as an option. I just couldn't make any headway with connections there (I now see why that was a good thing! The Universe clearly went "No, you're not going there. We have something else planned for then. You're going somewhere else."). India, on the other hand, never went away.

I have something of a personal history there. Although I have never been, my maternal grandparents met, fell in love and got married there in the 1930s. They first got together in the gardens of the Taj Mahal one evening and for most of the war were billeted not far away from Hyderabad. My Grandmother has never forgotten the experience and loves telling me stories about it (although I have had to ask her to yield them up!). She was unusual for a Brit at that time in that she was captivated by the country and learnt some Urdu to communicate beyond the narrow circle of the white Raj community. She wasn't quite a Mrs Moore or a Ms Quested, but she was fascinated by the culture and the history, but found herself frustrated by the fact that among her fellow Brits there was no-one who shared her interest or even cared about it. Thus when I asked her about the Taj Mahal she told me she had visited it but could not find anyone to tell her anything about it. It would seem that the state of stubborn ignorance and indifference to India beyond the British colonial boundaries described by Forster and Scott was exactly as it was.

Nevertheless my Grandmother has never forgotten her time there as a special era in her life. My mother and aunt spent their early years there. My brother has been over while he was at University but I have never been at all. It felt like it was time.

My itinerary, such as it is, is this: I fly to Mumbai and will stay for a couple of days before getting a flight down to Bangalore. From there I will get a train or bus across to Mysore where I will be met by people from The Children's Project (http://www.childrensproject.org/index.html), a school for homeless children dedicated to giving kids from the street an education. I will be working with them for about a month, after which I will set off on some backpacking travels across India, taking in, I hope, Cochi, Madurai, Hyderabad, Delhi, the Taj Mahal, Amristar and Dharamsala, by which time I will have covered pretty much every major religion in India!

It should be an adventure. Anything could happen and probably will! Although I won't be taking my laptop, I will be checking in at Internet Cafes if I can find them to update this Blog and let you know what has been going on.

It could be the adventure of a lifetime! Wish me luck and join me if you can!