This Town. This place. A Bohemian hippy paradise.

Ex-pat yoga teachers and struggling bands. John Lennon wannabies. Soul searching, party hopping travellers soaking up the fine life. Feeling good. Tye dye T-shirts and dreadlocks, tattoos. Bamboo huts and hammocks. White sand beaches with clear blue waters, against clear blue skies.

Arrived late afternoon, a good sleep overnight. Long over night sleeper. Constant grumble, soothing shake and hum. Tossing and jumping at the blare of a midnight passing train. . A cold shower is welcomed, no need for the heat. New place, full moon, a room to myself. The best sleep of the trip.

A yoga session starts this day, Centered, Calm, Clear. A slow breakfast, large Chai. A day at the beach. A book, a pen and guitar. Reminders of India, so far from home. Stray dogs outnumber stay cows, 10 to 1.

No haggles, no stress, no worries. Chanti, Chanti. Slowly, Slowly.

A great day at the beach. Seeking relief from the heat with the breeze from the sea. Taking refuge from the sun under umbrella shade. Red sun bleeds into nothing, replacing shadows with the light of the moon. The day I will always remember.

My 25th.