After twelve days of constant travel, we were both looking forward to staying in one location for seven whole days, where we could relax and enjoy nutritious food. The journey took longer than expected and once again, we arrived completely exhausted after a 4.15am start and arriving at 7pm. But the grounds and our little bungalow looked amazing and welcoming and we quickly dropped our luggage and ventured up the narrow cobblestone road to find a little restaurant for dinner.
The following day I began my healing program which I soon discovered was quite a rigorous one. Each day consisted of being awoken at 5.30am and greeted with a herbal tea, a 6am sunrise walk for one hour, followed by yoga and meditation until 9am. Breakfast for me consisted of a fresh cold pressed juice, a turmeric shot, some supplements and another herbal tea. Then I had several treatments each day as well as a colonic.
At first everything seemed wonderful and relaxing and while my first colonic was a little strange and uncomfortable, I soon felt the benefits of this amazing treatment. By the end of day one however, I started to develop a headache and day two became even worse. During yoga I continually felt nauseous and just wanted the session to end when a loud banging noise interrupted the class. Someone yelled “earthquake” and we all bolted out of the open air yoga studio as fast as our legs could carry us. We stood outside and watched as the windows rattled and shook. Well that sure was one eventful way of getting out of yoga and meditation!!
I continued with my treatments, despite continuing to feel unwell. Food was offered to make me feel better but food was the last thing I wanted. This was the detox process that I had to go through and by day three, I started to feel amazing and I actually enjoyed the sunrise walk and the yoga session.
By now I was starting to feel sorry for Sebastian as he had
needed to entertain himself while I had treatments that lasted several hours.
He participated in the daily walks and yoga, but by 10am he was usually on his
own. We talked about him attending a cooking class when a fellow patron offered
to take him to a class. She made all the arrangements and the next morning they
left at 7.30am and arrived back at 1.30pm. I started to grow concerned by
1.15pm when they hadn’t yet returned. I started asking myself if I had done the
right thing, letting him go with a complete stranger. But I continued deep
breathing, calming myself and telling myself that they would be back any
minute. The relief was immense when I saw them finally come down the path.
By now I was feeling physically and mentally amazing.
Completely pain free and ready to take on a mountain. So we did! Mt Batur that
is. An active volcano and famous for the challenge of climbing it in the early
hours of the morning to watch the sun rise from the top. It would be a challenge
of epic proportions and I was advised that it was not suitable for children.
However, we were determined to do it, so on day five of my juice fast, we were
woken at 2.15am, given herbal tea and fresh coconut water, two bottles of
freshly made juice and four bananas (I was advised that I would need some
sustenance to be able to complete the climb).
Armed with one backpack, jackets, water, head torches and
just a phone for photos, we made the one hour car journey to the base of the
mountain. We met our guide (Gday was his name), made a quick last toilet stop
and began our climb at 4am, along with hundreds of other tourists from all over
the world.
A quarter of the way up and I needed to urgently stop. A
feeling of total weakness came over me, like the life-force had just drained
out and I couldn’t take one more step. Slowly I ate one of the bananas and
Sebastian ate one also and within minutes, I was ready to go again. Our guide
held Sebastian’s had the whole way up, while I had minimal assistance. I needed
to stop several more times than other people, but my determination to get to
the top kept me going. At one point, near the halfway point, the rocks where
steeper to climb and I began to struggle again. Out of the darkness came an old
man wearing thongs. He reached out his hand and his strong grip pulled me up
the rocks, step after step, all the while mumbling about buying a cocoa-cola
when we get there.
At the halfway point I understood what his mumblings were
about. He wanted me to buy a drink from him in return for his help to climb. I
gladly purchased a drink from him, albeit not a cocoa-cola. I bought what I
thought was water, but it turned out to be a kind of sport ion drink. We shared
the small bottle of liquid and continued up the mountain, stopping several
times for me to catch my breath, my usually painful knees never giving me any
grief what-so-ever. Nearly at the top and many people were stopping for a rest
break and many would watch the sunrise from this position. Our guide suggested
we end the climb here and that we could still see everything from this spot.
Sebastian and I looked at each other, looked up the mountain and said, almost simultaneously,
no way, we have come this far, we have to get to the top now.
Arriving at the top and we were overcome with emotion. The wind blew hard and cold, sand smashing us in the face. We hugged each other and cried while our guide got us a mat to sit on and his own personal blanket to keep us warm while we sat and watched the sun rise through the clouds. Words can’t describe the feeling of being on that mountain. That feeling of being able to accomplish absolutely anything when the odds are stacked against you. That moment will stay with us forever. Our bond as parent and child forever concreted into our souls. I was so proud of how Sebastian handled himself on that mountain. Never complaining, never faltering and carrying our backpack three quarters of the way up.
The way down was somewhat more relaxed as we took an
alternative route down which was longer but easier by far. A little way down
and we were shown the large crater and the steam rising through the cracks. Monkeys
also awaited the tourists and looked forward to a banana or a cracker from the
guides.
From that day on, nothing ever felt a challenge. We had literally
climbed a mountain so we could achieve anything. On our last day in Ubud, we
did a little shopping at the marketplace, however the constant badgering and
bartering became unbearable and we soon hightailed it out of there to look for
a bus stop that should have been close by.
We had set our sights on a sound healing in a place called the "Pyramids of Chi". We knew a session was soon to start and they offered a free shuttle bus service. We walked and walked, asked so many people but no-one knew what we were talking about. I had lost the brochure that I had picked up the day before which hadn’t helped our cause. With only twenty minutes before the session was to start, I was desperate. Sebastian so disappointed that we would miss this opportunity, angry with me for spending too much time at the markets, I asked a scooter driver if he knew the location. He said he did and would take us there in 10-15 mins.
Before I knew it, we were on a scooter, driving through the
crazy, busy, no rules, narrow streets with no helmets! Seb on the front with me
on the back! Five days prior, I believed only crazy people would attempt this
style of transport and I certainly wouldn’t put my son at risk doing such a
thing. And yet, here we were, doing it and again, a wave of calm came over me as
our driver dodged and weaved and dodged and weaved and to his word, we arrived in
one piece with five minutes to spare! I was so overjoyed that I hugged the
driver who was a little taken-aback by my excitement. Sebastian’s wind swept
face, aglow with excitement as he thought the ride was fantastic!
The sound healing was truly out of this world as we lay down
on soft mattresses in a large pyramid structure. Gongs, drums and sounds of all
kinds energised the room and made every cell in our bodies vibrate. It was a
truly epic finish to our seven days of healing.
That
night we headed to the craziest airport I had ever been in, as we started our journey
home. A midnight flight to Adelaide would see us arrive at 6am in the morning.
The plane was full to the brim, uncomfortable and tiring but it felt good to
touch Australian soil once more. The chill of the morning biting our faces as
we took our transport home. We let ourselves in, turned on the heater and
curled up in bed together to catch a few hours’ sleep. We had done it! Three
weeks in Malaysia and Indonesia and lived to tell the tale! What couldn’t we do
now?
No comments:
Post a Comment