There were many wonderful and poignant moments for me in 2011.
These are the 11 that I recalled most vividly and which perhaps were the most important:
1. New Year’s Day 2011
A New Year’s Day at the southern most tip of the African
continent. A new group of friends, new goals for the New Year and a bright,
glorious sunshine to somehow set the tone for the 365 days that lay ahead.
We had a lunch by the sea in Cape Town in the wharf. We all
announced our achievements and regrets for the previous year as well as the
hopes and goals for the new one. The high points and the low points.
Most of that same group were together this year and most had
achieved their hopes and goals for 2011.
Most, but not all.
2. Banyan Tree Weekend
In Spring time three single friends and I decided to go away
for the weekend to the very luxurious Banyan Tree Hotel resort in Ras Al
Khaimah. Two guys and two girls.
The two guys went on dirt bikes and crossed the desert in a
magnificently epic journey, while the girls went by car and by road.
We found the girls at the two villas we had rented and sat
down to some food to fill our empty stomachs. Then we all jumped into the pool
and the drinkers drank champagne as the sun went down, while we discussed life,
laughed hard and let ourselves relax.
That weekend cemented a set of friendships that have been
really important to each of us all year.
Although no-one has been on a jet ski since…
3. Goat in
Aristi
My 40th birthday came to pass in the sanctuary of
the Aristi Resort Hotel which is written about and referenced elsewhere in this
blog.
For the celebrations I had requested a goat from the village
be slaughtered and roasted on the spit in the traditional fashion. This was
duly done and the goat roasted gently under the watchful eye of one of the
black clad widows from the village. When brought to the table with salads, wine
and bread, I believe everyone – even the vegetarian in our group – salivated
visibly.
Before long we were each grasping freshly cut chunks of
roasted goat, supping strong red wine and laughing and conversing in time
honored fashion. I was honoured by my friends toasting my birthday and was
touched in particular by the kind words offered to me by my guests and companions.
It reminded me that there is nothing as unifying and
edifying as sharing a meal and conversation with good friends.
The goat may have had a slightly different opinion –
especially as I was offered his «αμελέτητα»
(you can guess what this means) as the treat of the day…
4. Beach on the Northern
Coast of Egypt
In early summer I travelled to the north coast of Egypt –
down the road aways from Alexandria – for the wedding celebrations of a
colleague and good friend.
The celebrations were an informal affair at her beach house
and a wonderfully diverse and interesting group of people gathered – from
documentary film makers to musicians, politicians to businessmen. The mood was La
Dolce Vita meets Arab Spring.
Discussions of Egypt’s political future were punctuated by
dialogues on the blues, the sexual exploits of Omar Sharif and why the
residents of the front row of beach houses wouldn’t be coming this summer.
(They were all in jail awaiting trial!)
We headed to the beach in the afternoon and sat on lovely
white sand by the Mediterranean, drinking ice cold beers and eating fresh clams
out of aluminum foil straight from the fire they had been cooked on.
A simple, delightful gathering of interesting people at
play. The afternoon turned to evening, coffees and sun downers were drunk before
everyone departed for an hour or two only to return for the party which went on
beyond dawn – including a virtuoso live performance by Egypt’s leading female
Darbouka player. A magic weekend of little sleep and much stimulation.
5. Greek mountain
weekend #2
Not content with one weekend in the mountains at Aristi, I
spend another weekend in Elati near Trikala with a good friend who invited me
to Greece for the weekend which I accepted on a whim.
We rented a car in Athens and drove up to the mountains to a
lovely “Ξενωνα” or guest
house in the village. Conversation was plentiful and sparse in equal measure,
with both of us knowing each other well enough to have no issue with either.
A taverna dinner of freshly grilled meat and rough local wine
lead to deep discussions of the soul - its sicknesses and its salvation. A last
stop in a tiny little bar near the guest house saw spirits mixed with rock n
roll. Lots of memories of times gone by for my friend and conversations with
the bar owner about 70’s rock bands and the influence of the blues on Led
Zeppelin for me. A late finish followed by sleep concluded a great Greek day.
The next was slower due to the inevitable hangover, but
included a magnificent lunch in the mountains in an old taverna sat by a log
fire outside on the veranda as it rained and hailed so hard there were dents in
the roof of the car. There was nothing for it than to eat goat soup, mountain
greens and rough local red from the barrel.
The trip back to Athens the next day was slow and dull, but
as I drove I got news on my phone that a couple that I had introduced to each
other and whose wedding I had attended a few years earlier, had had their first
child. A baby girl. Within an hour I was at the maternity hospital with a
overjoyed new dad, a tired grandmother and an exhausted but thrilled mother –
and their new joy, the baby.
An hour later I was at the airport and heading back to the
land of the sand…
6. Dinner by a little
harbour. .
The anticipation that had built to the point of total distraction
was suddenly and painlessly released by her arrival – a moment that came to
pass as easily and naturally as a page turning in a book.
A warm greeting, pregnant with curiosity, was followed by nervous
discussion and then deep dialogue.
Interrogation, hesitation, investigation, consideration, interruption,
hesitation, interaction, continuation…
Imbibe, listen, nibble, speak.
Waves beat gently against the harbor wall, an old woman
watched from afar…with benevolence and warmth
I was there, present. It was “now” then.
Her hair had curls and her eyes smiled.
She breathed gently and easily as she slept.
I found my peace.
7. A hotel in
Nisantasi. .
A door opens into a room.
A split second of extreme excitement immediately translated
into a vigorous embrace . . . and
relief.
A moment of silence.
Eyes scanning furiously to verify the vision is real and no longer
just dreamt.
Conversation. Electricity. Vitality.
Peace. Home. At last.
8. A café in Kurucesme. .
One morning, in the late Summer or early Autumn, I sat by
the Bosphorus and ate eggs and sesame seed coated Turkish bagels, drank fresh orange
juice and strong coffee and gazed across the table at the woman who sat there
with me.
Her hair was blowing gently in the breeze, her smile warming
me even more than the sunshine. We talked about this and that, we held each
other’s hand, we laughed and played.
Sometimes one is suddenly acutely aware of the wonder of a
moment, as well as its ephemeral quality.
Such was this moment and many others that followed it,
destined to become memories at best.
The name of the café was “Aşk” – it means “passion” in
Turkish.
9. Desert Ride
There is nothing more uniquely solitary and free than riding
a motorcycle through the desert. Inherent danger and risk mixed with total
liberation from the constraints of the built up world.
Deserts have a curious nature and peace – an alternative
ecosystem unrecognizable and intimidating to the city dweller used to being crushed
by the structures of the urban jungle.
Intense heat, tough terrain, a small satellite device the
only thing ensuring direction and destination. The physical challenge of
negotiating a large pile of metal and plastic with wheels up sand dunes - at times the
size of houses and office buildings.
In the summer we would leave home at 4.30 am when it was
still dark and be in the desert ready to ride by sun-up. A group of up to 50
bikes and riders would congregate most weekends and within just a few seconds
of departing our starting point all would be spread out and invisible to each
other for the next 2-3 hours. Even riding in my small group of 2-3 friends we would only see each other sporadically as we crossed the never ending sand.
My moments in the desert on top of my bike have been
incredible intense, clearing everything from my tired head and filling me with
an incredible sense of vitality and life.
And I don’t crash every time either…
10. Insomniac moments
At first it drove me crazy. My sleep had been cruelly stolen
and my body was left restless and awake without the benefit of enough rest. My
mind raced and in its frustration created anxiety and stress. A slow developing
living hell in the darkness of night. The final "coup de grace" as the attempt to
sleep is suddenly abandoned on an instant and one starts what will be a much longer day than
hoped or planned.
But after a week or two of sleeplessness, I began to
discover my night self. Thoughts and thinking that would be impossible in the
light of day. Conversations and connections with other insomniacs that radiated
clarity like a 100 watt bulb and created intensity in my mind and a strange
hunger for illumination.
My insomniac period inspired writing, music composition,
philosophizing and a proximity to self which is hard to find in daylight hours.
I prefer sleeping as a rule, but now insomnia is not the enemy I once thought it was.
Indeed, I have some things to
thank it for.
11. Istanbul flights
I made several flights to and from Istanbul this year at
different periods and stages. Some were filled with excited exhaustion as I
tacked on a flight to Istanbul directly after flying from Australia while
others were melancholic and forlorn. Others still were warm and nourishing while the last flights were alternately anxious and sad.
The only thing in common with these flights was the fact
that I cannot remember time passing on any of them. Time stopped still on each
and yet simultaneously fleeted away faster than travelling light. As such these flights
were timeless.
I discovered something very exciting thing on these flights while
I was lost deep in thought and reflection.
I learned that when we remove time from our thinking, its
shadow is lifted. Life, and the things that matter, attain a different clarity
and light without time to confuse us about them.
Sadly, flights end (or planes crash) – and with every landing, time came rushing
back to me with its darkness and shadow. . .
