Laura Macdonald

THE NORTHERN LIGHTS ARE BLACK AND WHITE

2010-02-04T12:18:00.012+05:30

I've dreamt of seeing the 'aurora borealis' many times. It's a rare, natural phenomenon where the sky turns into a full intergalactic rainbow.

I'm taking a different sort of northern mission and moving up to Sydney to work at a film festival, which takes place north of Newcastle. Filmmakers and friends Allanah and Stavros bought a property in Dungog on their return to Australia from London and were inspired by the creative community up there. So they started a festival. This year will be the 4th Dungog Film Festival (May 27-31) and I am excited to be part of it.

Having not lived in Sydney for a long, long time (last time was only for a handful of months), I'm very much looking forward to getting to know the city again. I'm going to continue to pursue my own projects, whilst helping to source and exhibit Aussie films at Dungog. Allanah and Stav are huge go-getters, they set up a distribution company and are pursuing their own film projects as well. I can't wait to be around that sort of energy.

Now it's taken me a while to re-find my voice here. I had a busy January with my various missions. But I also had a disaster and stopped talking to myself for a while. I was so angry that I could be so stupid.

This may sound like something less than momentous to some, but Collingwood football fans may want to skin me alive. And we all know that Pies supporters are the most committed of all!

Whilst on a Christmas clear up at the back sheds at my parents' home in Flinders, I found something I'd been dreaming of. Longing for. Wishing to see again. I unpacked an old suitcase and there it was - my long sleeved, VFL Collingwood football jumper from when Dad was President in the early 80s. It was signed by everyone in the team. All my old favourites were there - Tony Shaw, Peter Daicos, David Cloke, Mark Williams, Mike Richardson..... - and some that I didn't quite remember.

I hugged the jumper with glee. I was reunited with my very own, precious piece of footie history. I skipped across the lawn, with the detritus of my past lives littered everywhere and felt as though I was dancing on air. Seriously. A link to a past almost forgotten until my return to Melbourne last year.

For those of you who don't know, my brother's nickname for me is 'Joffette'. A rather snaggle-toothed, bleached blonde ruffian named Joffa heads up the Collingwood Fan Club and Hame is convinced that I'm destined to be his right hand 'man'! I have embraced all things black and white so much, that when offered the job in Sydney, the fact that I won't be in Melbs for the season almost made me turn the job down. Almost.

I hope to make enough money to fly back regularly for games. I will go and watch the ones I can't be at on the big screen somewhere in Sydney. I'll sniff out the best place to watch them.

So back to my old jumper. I packed it and other things I wanted to keep handy in an old trunk and forgot about them for a few weeks. Christmas, my birthday and new years eve all raced past at a galloping pace. It was the first Macdonald Christmas that we'd ever spent just the four of us (parents, brother, sister) that I can remember. We ate lobster, cleaned out the pond (Hamish of course threw me in the scum when there was one inch left) and played some golf. It was blissful.

Instead of celebrating my birthday on the annoying date of 30th December, I decided to have a gathering at the Balnarring picnic races on Sunday the 3rd of January. Dad took me out seriously early to nab a space (I am always rather grumpy at that time of the morning) and Mum cooked her heart out to make it a wonderful day. Friends and relations travelled from afar to have a bet, a sanger and a bevvie or three. It was a wonderfully relaxed, rural, delectable day.

So, the day after, I was feeling rather worse for wear. I was immersed in a film project all day and Mum insisted it was time to empty the trunk and air the clothes. Fair enough. She kindly offered to put them out for me. That night, as I was heading to bed, I simply couldn't muster the energy to bring them in. I though, oh well, the dew will do those musty clothes good. I'll grab them in the morning.

Ohmybloodygod NO! I woke up with a gasp at 6am with only one thought. 'Was my Collingwood jumper in that trunk? Oh god no. Please. NO!!!!! I have never got out of bed as fast as that morning. I moved like lightening and found two very surprised parents watering the garden. They hadn't seen me up that early for a long time. When I saw the black and white stripes, and the smudged signatures I cried like a baby. For hours. How could I be so lazy and stupid and idiotic and sloth-like not to have simply brought the clothes inside? A hangover is not a good excuse.

I have almost forgiven myself. Not really. But I'm trying to.

All those years in London, living next to Stanford Bridge in Chelsea and Emirates Stadium in the Arsenal, I could utterly empathise with the faces of jubilation and bitter defeat, dependent on the outcome of each game, as I watched the fans from my window. One of the highlights of 2009, has to be when Jack Anthony kicked that winning goal against the Crows. One of the bitterest pills was being beaten by Geelong in the semi-finals, yet again.

Our first preliminary season match is again the mighty Sainters, so it'll be a toughie, but we'll have Luke Ball and Darren Jolly. Two top, brand spanking new players. But St. Kilda will be out for blood after losing to Geelong in the Grand Final. It was an amazing match, but Geelong were simply too good.

So as I set off on the road again, almost exactly a year after my return to Oz, I promise once more to keep you closely posted.

Here's to Aussie film and to Aussie rules. Two great reasons (apart from my family and friends of course!!!) to be back in this wonderful country. We are truly blessed.

C'arn the Pies!
2010 is ours.
Lxxxx

SUDDENLY, THE SILLY SEASON

2009-11-25T19:18:00.008+05:30

Today, I realised that I've been woefully neglectful.

I was planning to write all about my time in London town when I was in Thailand, but I was so behind with my script re-write that was my only focus. Thailand was as gorgeous as ever, but after India it felt empty and rather colourless. Though the Thais are wonderful and the food is extraordinary. I am not complaining, but every place seems to pale in comparison to India.

After a seriously hectic few weeks in London, Thailand was the perfect place to catch our breath. Mum and I had three nights at the Hyatt in Hua Hin. It was divinely quiet and the spa was absolutely blissful. Despite the most heavenly treatments, (how bloody lucky am I?), I was unable to sleep. This does happen a lot to me in the lead up to a transition. My mind simply refuses to shut up. It almost feels like I short circuit, or maybe I re-boot. Whatever the correct technical term is, my brain whirs like a dervish.

It was truly lovely to have some time away from everyone. To not talk, which I do far too much of. Mum and I had some 'quality time' and the General Manager and his gorgeous Aussie wife Jamie, made us feel welcome. A great friend of Hame's, Carly Adler, is old mates with them and went to the trouble of introducing us. We found a corner cafe called, bizarrely McFarlane House (after a previous resident) that made incredible fresh juices and salads that sat almost on the beach. It felt like it was there just for us, until some chain smoking French ladies discovered it!

Mum was keen to go to Chiva Som, but the prices have gone way up since she was last there, so we decided to give the Hyatt a try. CS looked amazing when we walked past it on the beach one evening (dodging the gelatinous jelly fish bodies), but the Hyatt was understated and quiet. We had a great few days in limbo-land.

Mum then flew off to Melbourne and I travelled further south. Via a local recommendation, I found a quiet beach called Khao Kolak which is in the province of Pranburi. It was a beautiful drive there, past fields bursting with pineapples. I felt utterly spoiled and ready to tear into the script.

I allowed myself a plate of fruit for breakie (unbelievably delicious array, some I'd never seen before in my life), one swim and walk per day and then a meal in the evening. The rest of the time I wrote and wrote and wrote. Luckily I was the only guest at the Orchid Guest House, run by a nice Brit called Tim and his lovely Thai wife Nat. Their two little boys rolled around happily and it was quiet enough for me to really concentrate. It was cheap and set back from the beach, which got infiltrated with Bangkokians (no idea if that's right!) at the weekend.

The seafood was seriously fresh and delish. But the best thing - I simply adored not having to speak and being able to shut the door and immerse myself in my writing. It felt like the best sort of retreat. Of my very own. One member only.

I had spent most of my trip thinking about the changes that I wanted to make to the previous draft. I had attempted to write when in London. But I was staying first with Mellie in Miranda's lovely flat in Maida Vale and I was on a (very comfy) pull out bed in her living room. Mel runs Choi Time from there, so it was tricky to find much space. Though I absolutely adored being there with her. I've missed her SO much. She's had a tough year, like so many people in London in particular. For anyone who loves tea, you must go to choitime.com and order some of her incredible tea for Chrissie. Her divine teas make the best presents ever.

Mellie and I did manage to squeeze in some lovely missions. One of them was a special screening of Terry Gilliam's new film THE IMAGINATION OF DR. PARNASSUS, which was incredible. Despite Heath Ledger dying in the middle of filming, they managed to make the film work and it's an amazing achievement. I adored it. I always adore Gilliam, as at his worst he's so far and above most directors. He has a truly unique voice, in a similar vein to Tim Burton, who's another of my faves.

So, London town. It was Spring like my first week there and I had a bit of time to catch up with various friends and their new babies. I met a lot of babies. All absolutely sweet mind you. It's just such a momentous change in people's lives and so all consuming. I understand that you need to go to them, but I was tearing across town at such a rate. Thank you Shiv for making the effort to bring Noah to Jenny's - he's a peach! Luckily I managed to go on some lovely walks in Hyde Park to clear away the cobwebs. I arrived pretty (seriously) broken from NYC.

The rest of my time in London is a bit of a blur, as there were so many family lunches and dinners and get togethers in the lead up to and over the wedding. My first weekend was spent at Pinhills (where Mum's bro Anthony lives on the Bowood estate near Charlie - the Marquis of Lansdowne, an old friend of the family - and his wonderful wife Fiona) with my cousins, which was great fun. We rarely get proper time together, so it was most welcome. Ed and Nina are loving married life and despite the tough year economically, Ed is doing very well in property and Tor is starting her own jewellery business. So brave!

Zoe and I had caught up in New York but it was rather brief, so it was lovely to hear all her news and help her with her book proposal a bit. She's found a top agent who is moulding her TV idea into a book. She's now in LA moving it all forward. She does manage to get around, as she's appearing here next week.

This weekend Ed, Tor and Nina all arrive. I don't remember the last time we had so many of them on Aussie soil. They've got Olivia Milne's wedding up in Myrtleford next weekend.

There's so much else that happened in London but Charlie and Katie's wedding was the focal point and it was pretty magical. I can honestly say that they are wonderfully in love and suited. It was held at the family home in Sandwich, (Kent), which is a beautiful part of England. The marquee was huge and so pretty incorporating parts of their garden. I caught up with SO many relations and met some lovely people. It was well worth the visit. Charlie gave a moving speech and his best man Ed Tollemache had everyone in tears, when he talked about their Mum. Dale was definitely there in spirit. She would have been so proud of her children.

The day after I went to stay with my old friend Maddy Baillieu and it was such fun to hang out with my goddaughter, her first born Charlotte. Her younger daughter Claudia is also very sweet. It's rather gobsmacking that her hubby Harry has managed, amidst such a tricky time, to become a partner at Allen Overy and move them all back to the UK. It's definitely for the best. They've bought a house in Godalming in Surrey and I stayed on their second night there, so boxes were abounding but it has a homey feel to it. I know they'll be happy.

On my return to London I moved North, back to my old hood. I stayed with my gorgeous friend Jenny in Tufnell Park and it was like coming home. Her house on Dalmeny Rd has been the setting for a plethora of great nights and lazy movie/footy watching sessions. I just adored being back there and spending time with her son Jamie and his lady Checky. They are a special pair. A special family.

My final week was a whir of meetings and catch ups. I hardly had time to scratch myself. Then Jenny kindly hosted a farewell soiree at Dalmeny Towers and it was very civilised. A lovely cross section of people I know in London came by and I felt very loved and missed. The weather turned pretty cold and I must admit, knowing that summer was waiting for me in the southern hemisphere made it bearable getting on the plane. Though it was very hard to leave the people I adore there. Luckily so many of them will be visiting Oz in the next year - Bron and Clive are having an Aussie celebration of their wedding, Mel is planning a February visit, Amber in January and the list goes on.....

So here I am, back in Hame's spare room juggling all sorts of random jobs. It's weird, after being so focussed on my career and survival in London for so many years, that I am now able to reconnect with what really matters to me. I found so many people in London were in dark or troubled places, and some in the States. I know it's been a tough year, but that city in particular does drain you and when Winter stretches out in front like a swamp, it's hard to imagine having to knuckle down and see it through. Life is not perfect in Oz, is it anywhere? - but it's healthy and positive and beautiful. I am resolute to give it more time, to see where it leads.

And I need to finish that final act of the script.
Wish me luck.
Lxxxx

BACK IN THE HOOD

2009-10-24T21:59:00.008+05:30

Ahhh Brooklyn. I adore New York City and am a late convert to it's outer borough, but I have to say that to fall into the loving arms of my mates there was pure bliss.

The conditions were arctic. I left LA with flash floods and arrived to full blown winter. It was rather depressing after Melbourne's long winter.

Samantha and Suzanne's flat in Carroll Gardens is big, but they have a big dog too. Whitman was rescued by Suzanne when found chained to a fence in Walt Whitman park. He's now a healthy, happy, very vocal member of the clan. He is most protective of both the ladies and barks like crazy when anyone comes near. There are some quite funny anecdotes about suitors who have been scared off the premesis.

So I challenged my gals to go dancing. I am sick of this getting older and not dancing enough malarkey.

For my first night, we had a gorgeous dinner with aforementioned ladies and my old mucker Elizabeth Stewart (who has mutated into a super fabulously coiffed Creative Director) at a local restaurant called Jamie. We were fussed over by super cute waiters in plaid shirts. The food was delicious and we drank bubbles and caught up in style.

I forced Samantha to see FAME with me the next day. I was just laughed at when I suggested that in LA. With good reason. It was pretty crap, but still great fun. The original movie was much better. This caused a lot of singing in the street with various friends throughout the trip, so I guess that was worth it. That night Sammy and I ended up out a bit late.

The next day was Liz's birthday but noone was allowed to say anything, as she has always strenuously avoided celebrating. Strangely we met uptown at a party on the Upper West Side at a lovely girl called Maureen's place for pulled pork, mac & cheese and other deliciousness.

Beforehand I met up with both the Kaplan sisters. Claude and Kristina were so wonderful to me when I was living in NYC and we've managed to stay in touch. Whenever I race through town I now visit their incredible downtown houses and see their beautiful girls. Kristina is now pregnant with number 3 and Claude is contemplating another. Unfortunately Kristina's lawyer husband, Jeremy, is always working too late for me to meet him but I met his lovely Mum this time and Claude's British hubby Michael came back in time for a quick catch up. The Kaplans are a fascinating family and are very close. I was sad to miss seeing their parents and John who is now back in The City and having a baby.

Mein godt! Babies, babies, babies. They are everywhere.

Anyhoo, uptown I went for a civilised session of munchies and wine. Meanwhile, Suzanne had managed to get us on the list at Pacha. A ridiculous super/uber club of gargantuan proportions.

When we tried to leave Mo's party, she insisted that we go with her to a club around the corner. On the Upper West Side. Hmmm. It was hideous. Frat boys and sports filled screens on every wall and chicks dancing on the bar to the worst sort of R&B tunes possible.

We lasted for a bit and then I insisted on Pacha. We met a couple of well oiled guys on the way who dubbed us the "Sex and the Shitty" gals. This stuck for the rest of the trip.

By the time we hit the front of the queue, Liz was pointing out that it was her birthday in no uncertain terms to the bouncer, Suzanne was one big smile and Samantha was ready to dance. We had no idea what was waiting for us inside.

When did straight men start shaving their chests, putting their t-shirts around their shoulders like shrugs and oiling themselves up like beach babes? The place was PACKED and we did lots of dancing. It got messy - it always felt like someone was going missing and we had to race off to find them with all our coats and bags. Finally I got sick of that and just stayed put with all the guys that I sincerely assumed were gay. They were great dancers and lots of fun but after a bit I thought I should go find my girls. But my coat and bag were missing and I had NO idea where they were.

Finally, after much searching I found them in a heap outside and we happily made our way back to Brooklyn. The next day I spent at my gorgeous friend Amy's watching her prepare amazing food for dinner that night. I was no help at all. But despite the late night, I made it by 2pm and it was wonderful to catch some quiet time with her and new new husband Alex. After four long years of Alex commuting to Princeton, they are finally living together and it's clear that they are happy.

All my New York buddies are so special and that night, Amy and Alex hosted the most wonderful dinner party in my and Liz's honour. We ate so well and caught up on so much. It was a gorgeous bunch of people, mostly Americans but my cousin Zoe was in town so she came along and it was perfect. It made me a touch sad that I'm not more a part of their lives.

A group of us met up for a lovely brunch the next day and all of a sudden Sunday night was upon us. I had quite a few people still to see the next day which was very sadly my last. I had a heavenly Japanese feast with my old mate Mark 'The Rabbi' Rabinowitz for lunch, who has moved out to East Hampton and came in specially. I then visited the Washington Square Park apartment of an Aussie editor called Kate and her lovely family. Her mother is one of my Mum's great friends, so it was lovely to connect with her again.

Then I spent the evening crossing paths with more lovely friends and the night went on much longer than anticipated. I managed to pack and get in a taxi at 6am by the skin of my teeth and felt a heavy heart as I boarded the plane and left my favourite city. Sigh!

But what a welcome I was given in London this week. I'm currently staying with my friend Mel in Maida Vale and she is spoiling me rotten. We've been catching up on everything and it's divine. We went to a screening of Terry Gilliam's new film THE IMAGINATION OF DR PARNASSUS and it was incredible. I've always been a huge fan of Gilliam's films, but this had such expectation as Heath Ledger's final film and the fact that Colin Farrel, Johnny Depp and Jude Law all stepped in to finish the film after he died. The film is magnificent, a true feat of courage and conviction.

I was so sideways from all the flying and carrying bags and fun I've been having that I took some time and went to the Porchester Spa. Magical Moira scrubbed and massaged me to within an inch of my life and I left feeling a gazillion bucks. She told me incredible stories about her life and her partner's and I had the most wonderful afternoon possible. I love a good sweat to rejuvenate the soul.

That night was my welcome back drinks, all organised by Mellie. The most gorgeous faces showed up and I felt once again welcomed back to the fold. London town. I left in such a whirlwind and was so exhaustepated that I was a shadow of my former self. How lovely to be here as a tourist. Walking around Hyde Park, eating at Frescos, dealing with the public transport, everything feels so different.

Now I'm in Wiltshire with my cousins whom I adore. Zoe, Tor and I drove down together, while Ed and Nina followed an hour behind. Then today Tor's new man Karim caught a train down - he's lovely! We've been planning this catch up weekend for months and I'm currently sitting in the most comfortable bed known to man. I had a monster sleep last night, one to rival all previous sleeps. I was just so shattered and happy to be here. Charlie's wedding is going to be very special. It's on Halloween and he is marrying a beautiful doctor called Katie. Mum has just arrived in town and it's all hotting up for next weekend. I look forward to all the family missions ahead. I just hope I can find the time to do everything else I need to do in London.

This weekend to recharge our batteries is much needed. We just ate a massive dinner at a pub nearby and I think I must melt into the bed covers. I hope the sun is shining again tomorrow. I've had more sunshine since arriving in the UK than I had the whole time in the US. Go figure!

LA-LA LAND

2009-10-12T12:11:00.003+05:30

It is cheesy and vacuum packed, but I really love LA. There are some truly wonderful people here and I always have such a blast with them. It's always the people that enrich one's life and I am wealthy beyond my wildest dreams in that regard.

I'm staying with a seriously kind friend in West Hollywood called Andre Fabrizio, (or as The Mullighan, our mutual friend, calls his old mate, Fabs) an Italian-Aussie whose been living here for over a decade and has finally got his green card (in the mail the day before yesterday). He lives in a great building tucked behind Hollywood Blvd, with lovely neighbours and a swimming pool!!! I've been in it every single day washing off the Melbourne winter and feeling less like a pudgy white worm with each swim.

Fabs is a screenwriter who has finally been able to give up his day job producing movie trailers to write full time. He's in the midst of projects for studios and big directors and is doing well. I'm rather nervous, as he's currently reading my script and we've got a business lunch on the morrow where I'll get his advice. We're going to my fave Japanese restaurant - Iroha - where the spicy tuna tartare on rice cakes is to die for.

To go back a bit, I was so overtired (as usual) I hardly slept a wink on the flight. I watched so many movies and started off laughing happily at comedies (THE PROPOSAL) and ended up blubbing my heart out to Aussie films (finally got to see BEAUTIFUL KATE and BLESSED - both are tough but brilliant flicks - and the end to AUSTRALIA). I hardly ate and this time avoided alcohol, as I knew the drive would freak me out at the other end. Getting straight off the plane into a hire car is a truly surreal experience, it feels like you're in a video game.

I abhor driving in LA. The highways terrify me as people seem to switch lanes without warning and I always feel like I'm lucky to make it to my destination alive. I was proud to make it to Fabs' abode in one piece. After a rest and swim I took to the streets and ended up on Hollywood Blvd where I mingled with the Michael Jackson impersonators and inexplicably, loads of Jack Sparrows pirates.

I pounded the pavements for quite a while doing various errands and by the time I got back, I was shattered. I had a monster sleep and was off again the next day with missions before meeting my old boss Simon Kelton and some of his friends for a drink and going to see the doc ANVIL at a BAFTA screening. The film is a mixture between THIS IS SPINAL TAP and STILL CRAZY - a good combination and a tale about a Canadian heavy metal group who never quite made it, despite influencing some of the best metal bands who went on to make fortunes. They are still giving it their all in their fifties.

The Director, a Brit called Sacha Gervasi (friend of Simon's) directed the film and the crowd just loved it. We had a bit of a natter afterwards and my favourite story is that his cameraman thought the guys were actors and on the second day of the shoot, he took Sacha aside and said "Come on, you've got to tell me. They're actors right?". He thought it really was Spinal Tap. Classic.

Afterwards I had a frolic with some old girlfriends and a lovely mate of theirs (Patrick). Nickers and Jodi were in fine form and we had a ball catching up. Jodi even gave me the keys to her flat in Mulberry St in NYC for me to use when I'm there next week. Bless her! People are so incredibly kind. Though I'll be staying with Samantha and Suzanne in Brooklyn, as I'd get in so much trouble if I didn't, it will be great to have somewhere to bolt to if I need to when I'm in Manhattan.

Saturday was a day of lovely sun filled missions in Silverlake. I had to ask directions to a cafe and realised half way through that I was asking Shirley Manson from Garbage the way to Stella!!

At brunch, it turned out that Patrick used to work for an old producer friend of mine from New York, so I'm hoping to catch up with him. I had been wondering how to reconnect with him. Such a tiny, wee world.

Time just slips away so quickly. I can't believe I only have 2 more days here.

I took Fabs out with me last night to the awards night for my cousin Andrew Bossom's polo club, which he's President of. We had a drink at he and his delicious wife Amza's incredible mansion in Glendale, Bette Davis' old house. I had such fun hanging out with their two little boys - Bayne and Piers. Soooo cute. I met some of their horses and chased after them as they ran wild and happily around the property with dogs yapping at their heels.

Dinner was at a true blue Italian restaurant and it was a delicious meal with lots of colourful characters. The awards were fun and Andrew gave a running commentary, while a lady did a good job of keeping things on track. It was raucous and great fun. I had a very unexpected proposal from a gay guy at a neighbouring table and ate far too many profiteroles.

Afterwards we went to a bar where a friend of Fabs' was having a party. I hadn't had any Mexican food (which I adore) so decided to get a burrito while Fabs found his friends. Bad decision. We checked out another sleazy bar around the corner which was hilarious, but decided it was time to head out and I loved watching CHILDREN OF MEN when we got home. Such a good film. Though I'm told the book is better.

Despite my hatred of driving here, I managed to make it to Santa Barbara today. I'm spending the night with the Keltons as Simon and Heather kindly invited me to join them for dinner. Simon and I had a big session talking about my script and he had a lot of suggestions about how to improve it and make it commercial. It will mean a lot of changes, but if I can pull off a great next draft then we could be onto something.

I'm shattered now. We had a lovely dinner and Jasper, their 2 year old boy, is the most divine creature in the whole world. He is a real peach. Heather has been going through a tough time following the death of her beloved Mum, so it was really nice to have a proper catch up. They are so happy out here. She works for some big Hollywood players, who are local and Jasper adores it too. I'm looking forward to taking a walk in the morning. The coastline was amazing on the drive up here but it got dark almost as I arrived.

Really wish I could keep on driving to San Francisco, where one of my great mates lives but hey ho. You can't do everything at once. But you can try.

Must get some sleep as the next two days will be jam packed.
Wish me luck.
Lxxx

DALI RAVE ENTICES ALL

2009-10-05T14:45:00.002+05:30

Bloody brilliant.

After a week of battling a lurking lurgie, following a rather large Grand Final weekend, (by the way, Geelong were triumphant and it was deliciously hard won - a proper wet, dirty rough and tumble), I have been struggling to prepare for my trip. I had a gazillion emails to send and so much to sort that I think I just shut down.

By the time Friday rolled around, I was looking forward to getting the hell out of the house and helping Amanda at her new store on Gertrude St in Fitzroy. She is the most brilliant designer (http://www.leonardstreet.com.au) and old school friend. She is seriously preggers and has taken on too much - opening two new stores at once - so I've been helping her out when possible.

Living South, I don't get North as much as I'd like and I have to say, there are some serious crazies up there but mostly the people are divine. And the shops (and food) are unbelievable. It's danger zone for me. Big time. I bought the most ridiculously divine 80s jump suit on Friday, luckily Amanda gave me her blessing (kind of) and I can't wait to rock around LA and NYC in it. Think it might be a little too chilly in London town.

At the end of the day, Mum arrived and whipped me off to the most amazing contemporary jewellery store called Ingot where they were having a do. We drank bubbles and shopped and it was a feast for the eyes. She bought me the funkiest black leather necklace to go with my new Leona Edminston frock (cherries and spots galore) for my cuz Charlie's wedding on Halloween (back in Blighty) to the gorgeous Katie. Divine.

I booked us into a restaurant that I'd heard so much about. The Panama Dining Room is top floor above a dance school on Smith St in Collingwood (hear the crowd roar!). We had a gorgeous dinner of deliciousness. The view was great, the food delish and the company perfect. We had some great chats. The sort of chats it's hard to have when you're living half a world away and each meeting has too much expectation.

Without going on about the life style and how lovely people are back in Oz, there's no doubt that the best thing is spending time with my family here.

That said, I can't wait to get on that aeorplane in a few short days. I love to be in motion.

Back to Saturday. In one word, it was a monster. I worked at the gallery (Mossgreen) where I've loved helping out in the last few months. They run a fascinating operation there and with Sotheby's now selling out here (to a far from reputable man) they're in a great possie. I've just spent the day packing boxes of a fascinating collector's estate in Kew with the owners Paul and Amanda who are good people. They work incredibly hard and deal in a wide variety of artifacts.

So after finishing at the gallery, I went over to my lovely friend Stellar's place. Strangely she lives on the same street I grew up on and where my junior school is, even in the same block of flats where Hamish and I lived when we first left school. It's always a strange mix of emotions when I walk up the street under the plane trees, it feels rather like time is standing still.

I spent a few fun hours at Stell's where she and her little sis Clea were having a back to back session of 'Bold & The Beautiful'. It was yet another flash back as most of the old characters are still on the show and 20 years later (we used to wag school to watch it back in the day) it's kinda scary to watch but bloody funny.

I made my way to The Supper Club where I've been exploring Melbourne's night life scene since my return. And meeting new people who actually like to go out (as opposed to most of my friends back here due to the serious child factor) where I worked the door. It was a full moon and daylight savings hit after midnight. And something was in the air.

I had heard that the Dali exhibition at the National gallery was trialing a new idea - staying open for 24 hours on it's last day. People poured through the door at Supper Club and kept on coming. It was nuts. There were rumours of the queue at Dali going back over the bridge to Flinders St (quite a way) and being four people deep. Parklife festival was pouring happy punters out straight to Dali, so when people at work started talking about going, I was in. Like Flynn.

I was finally knocked off after 5am and the drinks were on. It was a fabulous final night, everyone stuck around and I drank an incredible cocktail called The Botanical (thanks Nick). Eventually, a small gang of us wandered down to the gallery. The dawn had arrived and we ambled through the quiet city with bottles clinking in our bags and arms linked. We arrived at the gallery around 7am to find no queue but loads of people.

What followed was the most blissful night/morning. I had already been to the exhibition twice and Tara, our hostess with the mostest, whose right ankle is tattooed in fabulous Dali, had been three times. For the boys (Josh and Louis) it was mostly their first time, though Alex had been before. Inside there was the normal slow moving line of people going from one painting to the next, but we ran around in between jumping to what took our fancy - pure bliss. We watched my favourite part of the exhibition, 'Destino' (the cartoon Dali made with Disney but was never released) twice in a row and I could have watched it three more times at least but we wandered on to be mesmerised by a wide variety of Dali's intense visions. It was such a heady mix. The crowd was of all ages and pretty soon, those of us who had been up all night were drawn to each other. Those who were clearly just up were yawning differently to us, and everyone was having a bit of a giggle at each other.

We ended the trip by climbing up a tree opposite the gallery and watching the world go by. Then we made it on to Vic Markets, where we enjoyed making our way through the most delectable wares and munched on some. Finally, back at Josh's place we sat on his roof and as he and Tara finally wilted, I ventured out into the stark day and ran a bunch of errands with my sunnies firmly placed on my nose.

Melting into bed at midday was the most blissful feeling in the world. Now I've got a pile of things to sort before I get on that plane in a few short days, so forgive me....

More from the road.
Lxxx

WIN, LOSE OR DRAW - NO DEFECTIONS ALLOWED, EVER

2009-09-25T13:59:00.005+05:30

Footy fever reaches its highest pitch on the morrow - The Grand Final (Aussie Rules).

Today there was a parade for Geelong and St. Kilda in the rain - lots of fans turned out despite the inclement conditions. St. Kilda have had a towering season and Geelong kicked Collingwood out of the finals last weekend in scary style - we looked like little boys next to their hairy grit. That said, Gary Ablett doesn't have a hair on his head and quite rightly took the Brownlow medal home on Monday eve.

You might be asking, who the hell cares? A lot of Aussies feel the same, but if you've got the footy bug, Winter (particularly in Melbourne) is much more enjoyable. If your team is winning mind you. Don't even talk about the depression that hits if you lose, particularly if you get pulverised which Collingwood has quite a bit. Though we were always a wild card. All the Macdonalds left the MCG half way through the final quarter last Saturday evening, (and we NEVER leave a game early), as it was quite clear our whipping was causing us all excessive pain.

In the words of my new friend Roachie, who coaches with the Hawks, "You're born into a footy team. Win, lose or draw, you stick with 'em." St. Kilda fans have been loyal since their last flag in 1966. Something tells me they deserve it tomorrow, but it's lucky number 3 Grannies in a row for the Cats - having lost the last two. Both teams will be dogged tomorrow.

Anyway the Grand Final (the Grannie!) will see barbies firing up and eskies filled all over Australia. Beers will be opened from an early hour. Two mighty Victorian teams will awaken to a Clash of the Titans. They have both led the whole season and were undefeated half way through - until they played each other, and St. Kilda just scraped a victory. It will hopefully be a great battle, worthy of them both.

'Nuff said.

I've finally booked all my tickets to head off around the world again - the other way this time. I'm boarding a jet plane in a few short weeks and cannot wait to get back out amongst it. It's been a fabulous return to Oz the past 6 months, but it's time I reconnect having been almost a year since I left London for India. I cannot believe that time has flown by. It's been pretty damn incredible I must say. Bring on Summer though, I forgot that Melbourne winters could be pretty harsh. But thankfully somewhat shortlived.

I say that when it's been pissing down with hideous big, fat rain the past few days mercilessly. It's great for our reservoirs after the droughts, but everyone is antsy for Spring and the racing carnival is just around the corner. Sadly I'll miss all the pastels and hats. Champagne and chicken and avocado sandwiches abound us all I remember of past carnivals.

Gotta run to Hamish's work party - XYZ Studios have a new home in South Melb and we're christening it tonight.

Toodles.
Lxxx

DOWNLOAD FROM THE DARK SIDE

2009-08-11T17:51:00.003+05:30

I am so angry that my stomach is in knots. Every single time I call any institution in the UK (my bank, HRMC, estate agents.....) I end up in such a rage I hang up the phone on some poor sod. Before I call, I tell myself to keep calm, to be nice and to tell them what they want. Every time a flipping, fucking coconut I end up incandescent with rage. Why is it SO hard to get anything done there? Why can I never give them enough numbers or details or jump through their hoops to get things done?

Australia is not perfect, but customer service and understanding still exists here. Some of the time. What shocked me after I first got back, is how friendly people are. Clearly not everyone, but most people say hello to you and take a minute to ask a question and actually listen to your response. I was freaked out by it at first.

Enough ranting. The film festival was really impressive. It finished on Sunday and my, what a marathon. In fact a lot of the films I saw really blew me away, taking me to places I never expected all over the world. Though why do so many films have to be dark in tone and content? I know life is no picnic, but I longed for a HAPPY GO LUCKY moment in the fest, but ended up with THE BASTARDS. I needed to chug red wine after that one. Sheesh.

My friend Nichole, who I met in India, is living in Melbs (she's moved into a fab house in West Brunswick with a friend from London called Jane) and I suggested she volunteer at the festival. We had such a blast meeting up and going over what we'd seen, often going to films together or showing up at the events that the other was working. It was such fun to share the fest with someone on a regular basis throughout. I'm used to attending festivals all over the world and meeting up with all sorts of colleagues but Melbourne has been very different.

Instead of being in a foreign city, where you're only there for meetings and the festival, I was trying to work and juggle my life here, so it was not my usual festival experience. At first I felt displaced and out of the loop, but quickly I met people and saw films that inspired me. In one day, I went from from Russia (Iranian director) to Korea and the Philippines (Korean director) to Algeria and the Western Sahara (Aussie & Bolivian Co-Directors) and ended up in London thanks to an Argentinean director.

All the films were worthwhile, but the documentary STOLEN which confronted slavery in the refugee camps of Algeria was explosive. In fact, I saw some incredible docs at the fest. The one on Rebiya Kadeer, the Uighar leader, (10 CONDITIONS OF LOVE) that has caused all the uproar was definitely a highlight. Not because it was the best doc I've ever seen, but due to the Chinese kicking up such a fuss, a small little doc became such a sensation - they had to move the screening to the town hall to fit everyone.

Mrs Kadeer has sacrificed so much for her people, (some of her children are in prison simply for being hers), and she spoke beautifully, with such passion before and after the screening. It's sad that 7 Chinese films were pulled from the fest because they refused to cancel this doc. And that the festival site was constantly attacked by hackers, simply for supporting freedom of speech. It makes you realise how incredibly lucky we are to take it for granted as a fact of life. As well as fundamental human rights, which STOLEN explores with its journey in Algeria and Western Sahara.

Irrelevant of how strong one might feel the actual films are, and there are some important failings though they give good viewing, they are both stories by passionate, committed filmmakers who did their utmost in very tricky circumstances to tell stories they felt should be told. It was fascinating to hear the audience at each session (I love a good Q&A) and to see how the filmmakers handled their questions. Being a filmmaker is tough, being a documentary filmmaker is even tougher. There is such little money and you have to fight so hard to get the film completed and then actually just get it out there to audiences.

I ask you how Jeff Daniels, the director of the doc about Rebiya Kadeer's life, managed to hold down a teaching job and spend 7 years of his life on this one piece of film? It's impossible for us mortals to imagine the pressure that's been put on him during this time and since the political explosion that erupted when MIFF programmed his film. The ramifications have been huge. But he's clearly drawn so much inspiration from his subject, that he's had the strength to go on. I salute them all.

I'd love to go into all the feature films that I adored, but two really stick out in my mind (apart from the fantastic Aussie film BALIBO) and those are the Icelandic film THE WHITE WEDDING and the British film UNMADE BEDS. They transported me completely and utterly to their destinations. And I ached for London after seeing the latter. It captured the freedom and eccentricities of that maddening city so well.

ANTICHRIST was an utterly nutty experience, but I have to say that I love Lars Von Trier for his truly unique vision. I can see why Charlotte Gainsbourg got Best Actress in Cannes. Bloody hell. It's all it's cracked up to be in the sadistic, artistic stakes. Gulp!

Now, I'm letting all those movies flow through me and I'm re-writing the feature that I've been working on a lot of this year. Hamish and I have got some industry people interested in reading it so the pressure is on. I've kidnapped Minnie (Hame's dog) and absconded to the coast, where I'm alone at our parent's place (except for Min!) and it's heaven. They're off in the Kimberleys (Western Oz) seeing the astounding Bradshaw rock paintings with their new best friends the Frasers. Gosh life is funny. I just have to laugh out loud sometimes at the absurdity of my existence.

I pray that over the next few days, I can reach deep down inside and find the strength to do this script justice. I am so grateful to all my heavenly mates who keep sending me such encouragement, as I can't tell you how much I need your prayers. I am terrified to finally put this script out there and can't believe that next week it will be in the ether. I saw the most incredible speech on TED's site today thanks to Miranda Barber, who sent me the link. It was by an author of a book I didn't much like, but the way she described the creative process and some fascinating issues surrounding it was really inspiring.

Mellie and Kiko, you made me laugh so much. Thank you.
And Pip your feedback has been invaulable. As always.
More soon. Lxxxxx

THE FILM FEST & THE FURY

2009-07-30T05:20:00.003+05:30

The Melbourne film fest kicked off at the weekend with an emotional rollercoaster ride like no other. I had heard so much about Robert Connelly's BALIBO, a film about what happened to a group of journalists who got stuck reporting on Indonesia's invasion of Timor Leste. I knew that Jose Ramos Horta - the current President of Timor Leste who was in exile for decades and helped guide the Aussie journalists before fleeing the invasion - would be present. I had read that the families of the Balibo Five would be there too.

With a square red carpet (!) outside the magnificent Hamer Hall (part of the Arts Centre) right by the Yarra River and the city centre, the guests gathered in their finest black tie outfits. The atmosphere was wonderfully buzzy, as with the opening of all film festivals I've attended, but by the end of the screening noone could breathe.

At the climatic scene near the end, when Anthony LaPaglia is battling for his life, the soundtrack goes completely quiet. I have never experienced human howls, not just sobs, like that in a screening in my life. And I've never seen so many people scurry away for a quiet cigarette before the party began.

For those of you who don't know, these events happened in the mid 70s and for so long, governments covered up exactly what happened to these young journos (aged between 21 and 28). With a popoulation of onky 700,000 people, the Indonesian occupation of Timor Leste saw 183,000 people murdered. These five Aussie journos are only a small part of a bloody history, but the fact that their deaths were covered up for so many years made this night a hugely significant one for their families.

Ramos Horta is portrayed in the film by an extraordinary young actor - watch out for Oscar Isaac. Forced into exile, it was a long time before he could return to his country and take the position of President. During those years, he fought tirelessly for justice for Timor Leste and received the Nobel Peace Prize in the mid 90s. Ramos Horta took the stage after the screening and he gave an immensely moving speech about humanity and war. Robert Connelly, the film's very talented and humble director introduced him with a few words and then LaPaglia took to the stage in a mohawk and leather jacket and spoke about his commitment to the film. Without him it wouldn't have happened.

Then all the families and other actors took to the stage. It was a night I'll never forget. And I have my old friend Andrew Barlow to thank. He invited a group of us to join him on this special night. He was an Executive Producer on BALIBO and I'm sure his passion for film and his razor sharp instincts will guide his hand as his film career develops. I was truly honourd to be a part of opening night and I've since swapped the red carpet for a red MIFF t-shirt, as I'm volunteering at the festival.

I'm working a bunch of wild special events that range from a beautiful 3D animated feature called Coraline to the craziest performance art I've ever seen. Last night, at a venue called Ding Dong, I saw acts that I hardly know how to describe. The first was a girl raging against the pop culture machine, she projected images from magazines and television and basically gave them a ticking off. She took the piss, she yelled and she sure had an opinion. The highlight was her mash-up of the judges from 'So You Think You Can Dance' and I also have a soft spot for 'Masterchef' so enjoyed her piss take of that too. She even had a song about cellulite that had the audience giggling.

With bleeding ears, (I've never heard anything like it and feel so old for saying so), I retreated to the bathroom after Pig & Machine had given us an onslaught of epileptic dancing, screeching and electro sounds coupled with the most insane guitar playing I've seen. I ran into the ultra hip Asian friend of the lead singer, I asked her what it was that we'd just seen - how would you classify that 'music'? She shrugged and said, "I don't know - electro maybe. She's my friend, so you should ask her. I don't even know. Maybe break-core!" Ok. Said friend is the lead singer, she arrived with a cutesy outfit on but came on stage dressed in zebra hot pants, a traditional Chinese silk jacket and a sequinned head dress that covered her face entirely. Her guitarist was all in black with a sinister black hood (also over his face, though hers came off with her nutty dancing) and white sunnies over the top and the techie on the computer had a white boiler suit and the necessary black Raybans.

Afterwards, old rockers Primitive Calculators (don't you love that name?) faced up to images of their old selves and sang along with their backs to the audience. Hmmm. They re-formed a few years ago when their old mucker Nick Cave asked them to play a gig with him. Thankfully they eventually did get up on stage and face their fans. Richard Moore (Festival Director) was rocking around as were other staff groovers (go Daria!) and everyone seemed to be having a blast. By this stage, I was sick of shouting and so my lovely mate Nichole (who I met at Jaipur literature fest and has moved to Melbs) and I ended up in this lush bar drinking red wine.

I've been working my butt off lately getting back into the black. I've been juggling a bunch of jobs (environmental short film comp called Future Shots, auction house and gallery called Moss Green, old mate Amanda McCarthy's fashion label Leonard St and door bitch at The Supper Club) but more on them later. For now, I want to immerse myself in film. There is so much to see. I saw an intense Norweigian film called TROUBLED WATER that was long and harrowing but so beautifully shot and moving and a fantastic documentary on Celia Cruz called CELIA THE QUEEN. Now I must get moving as I've got a load more to see today and many more to plan.

MIGHTY NUMBER FOUR

2009-06-21T11:35:00.002+05:30

I admit it, I'm a bogan. True blue. I have embraced the Mighty Magpies with all my heart. We just beat Sydney and are now fourth on the ladder. Hooray! Plus Didak (who wears jersey No.4) is a truly astounding player. Though Leon Davis is a true legend. And I'm coming around to Marty Clarke.

Anway, enough footy but after living next to two stadiums in London (Arsenal and Chelsea) and never feeling a part of the gang, as I appreciate soccer/football but never loved it like Aussie rules. It's funny what gets in your blood. I'm already excited for the next match against Fremantle.

It's been a fantastic weekend. Last night I dressed up as my Latino male alter ego and sang karaoke for hours and hours with a gorgeous gang of new friends. And Hame. Who looked great in a skirt. I had such fun trying to pick up girls, though they weren't fooled. I might have made myself rather too well endowed, but couldn't resist. I had one of the best nights I've had since I got back. I ended up sitting around an open fire in the middle of Federation Square (slap bang in the centre of Melbourne) at 6am. It was surrounded by red earth and had a security guard watching over it. T'was most romantic.

Today I'm gathering myself for the week ahead. Hame is yet to read the re-draft but soon I hope we'll put the script out there to people we trust I can't wait to start being able to actually talk about the story. I had absolute blind faith in this project, despite my decade in the film industry.

This week I find a new mission. I can feel it. It's coming.

I am missing London so much right now. One of my dearest friends, who set up my website for me, the divine Bronwyn van der Merwe is marrying her man next week. Clive Pegg and her have a baby Felix together and the three of them are heading to the Greek Islands for a few weeks before she has to return to work at the BBC. I know she's loathe to do so, but hopefully it will be a positive thing. It must be incredibly hard to go from being a full time Mum, to having to entrust your baby to a stranger's care. I know Anne has had a tough time doing it with Hunter, but it's the reality of modern life. Particularly in London where costs are high.

One of my best, dearest and most gorgeous friends here is Pip Sallabank, now Poddine. Her baby daughter Mila Nicolina is my goddaughter and she had her second birthday not long ago. We had a hilarious afternoon eating fairy bread and coconut ice (my faves!!!!) with her brother Julian and his wife Nicky, their two little boys (Vivian and Monty) and Dorina Sallabank. It was such a special family occasion and I was utterly over the moon to be there. I missed Pip's wedding and the birth of her daughter, but she is such a true friend, she made me godmother in absentia and I'm immensely proud to have such an honour bestowed on me.

Cristian, Pip's husband, is from near Lake Como and the three of them are in Italia at the moment introducing their little angel to his family. What a special time for them all. I miss Pip, I'm realising that with her not working, we've been spending quite a bit of time together and I miss not being able to call her and see little Mila. Pip is a natural mother. She absolutely adores the process and doesn't want to go back to work. Some people find this shocking, which is such an immense turnaround from days of old. She sometimes feels she has to apologise for wanting to be a stay at home Mum. Isn't that just crazy?

Babies are popping out all over the place. I think there have been at least 6 births that I know about of friends of mine back here since my return. It's only been 4 months. Isn't that mad? Plus a great friend in London is about to pop. Sanna is the tiniest little creature you've ever seen, I just can't imagine her pregnant. I'm sad not to be there for the birth. Her husband Lyall is a Sydney boy (she's Finnish) and was recently home to work on a film project. I was gutted to miss him, but he arrived the week after I'd made my visit. Such a bugger.

Anyway, I think this bloody mary is kicking in now. I must get myself together as I'm heading back to the NGV to get another look at the Dali exhibition. Mum is being taken around by the curator and I'm standing in for Hame (even though I hardly have a voice after last night) as it was such a scrum on opening night. I'm looking forward to taking another look.

Hot Pies!
Lxxx

ARTISTIC IMMERSION ALERT

2009-06-17T17:03:00.008+05:30

I'm deep in second draft mode and need to unload. Sometimes I hit a point after writing for an extended period, when I feel like my brain is melting. I'm sure it's my fault for trying to squash this rewrite into a short space of time, but too much else is going on. I've gotta get moving. I need to be in motion.

It's been divine sunshine since I arrived at Flinders, where Mum and the dogs have made me most welcome. Dad is away at the US Open, having a divine time with his mates, so it's been blissful to have some time with Le Muzz. She's just had the most brilliant news about her new exhibition. It sounds like she's sought out just the right partners and all her hard research and preparation has paid off.

Her last exhibition, 'Exiles and Emigrants', was a huge success at the National Gallery of Victoria, it then travelled on to the NGAustralia. It launched when I was last back in Oz and I was so proud to be there for the opening. It explored the voluntary migration from the British Isles to Australia (as opposed to the scurrilous convicts who were unloaded here) in the mid nineteenth century. It's amazing that the script I'm writing is set in that period. It's inspiring delving into the bookshelves here at The gorgeous Moorings. What a home my parents have made here, it's got the warmest welcome. A reflection of them both.

Last week I fell back in love. With Dali. The opening at the NGV was astounding. I had never heard of the cartoon Destino that he worked on with Walt Disney. Sadly it was never completed, but I can't wait to go back and sit and watch more of it. The opening was a total scrum, so I only got a limited view of the incredible exhbition, but it left a huge impression. His works in the 30s and 40s were truly astounding.

On that note, I will never forget Robin Niven's performance in 'August: Osage County'. She portrayed the terrifying matriarch of a truly dysfunctional middle American family. And she was a powerhouse of ferocious frailty. My god, the play went for over 3 hours and it was an amazing experience. The only time it lagged was when Niven wasn't on the stage, which was sadly in the last act.

Then, to add a bit more kulcha to the mix, I went to the magnificent Malthouse Theatre to see my old schoolie Caroline Craig in yet another play, this one called 'Optimism'. I never dreamt that I'd see Barry Otto (remember him in STRICTLY BALLROOM as the downtrodden father? and so much more) dancing topless on the stage in a purple airline stewardess hat and matching skirt and heels. Everyone was brilliant in this play, which felt an awful lot like someone's acid flashback. It was insane. So different to 'August' but most enjoyable.

They're taking 'Optimism' to the Edinburgh Festival, which is great for the cast. The girls were so shattered, as it finished its Malthouse run the night after I took my lovely cuz Nicola. One of the actresses I met, had recently completed a three and a half year stint at the Sydney Theatre Company and spoke highly of everyone there. Gosh they looked exhaustepated. It must be so hard working night after night and giving out all that energy (plus matinees). Clearly it's a fantastically fun occupation and most people dream of being an actor, but the reality of it is so different to the dream. But isn't it always.

I'm three quarters of the way through my rewrite and cannot WAIT to show the script to some people I trust. It is the most amazing feeling to finally be proud of something I've written. I can't describe how much I'm enjoying this process. I'm praying that I won't be too precious about the words when it comes to criticism and deciding what's best for the project. I know it's far from perfect. I just pray I can put on my Producer's hat and separate myself. This film deserves all our efforts. It's something I know we're going to make. It's time for Hamish and I to finally do it. Though the road may be long and winding, well who's kidding who, it most certainly will be. I want to walk it, run it, skip it, whatever it takes.

I just hope I can find a mission to keep me here while the road unfolds. I need to keep the wolf from the door and stimulate other parts of my brain. I say a little prayer that I can find one. That someone will have the faith to take a chance on me. My experience is so varied, I've fought against labels all my life but at times like these I wish I could sum myself up in one word instead of being a slasher (as in writer slash producer slash presenter slash......) as I can imagine it would make finding work a whole lot easier.

Better get some sleep.
Lxxxxx

TIME KEEPS ON TRIPPIN, INTO THE FUTURE

2009-06-05T02:44:00.003+05:30

I feel as though I've spent most of my 'adult' life, racing around the world at a breathless pace trying to prove myself and make some sort of mark. It's so strange to reach a point where you must take a long, hard look at what that all amounts to. It's exciting to be at a crossroads and to know in your heart that you're a capable person with talent to share, but my how the head begs to differ.

Are we all our own worst enemies?

I am thrilled that the Aussie film industry is having a bumper year. I'm even more thrilled that SAMSON & DELILAH won the Camera d'Or in Cannes and is proving itself at the box office, the first really successful Aussie film since LANTANA in monetary terms. And critically it's been a smash. As I wrote a while back, I thought it an astounding achievement and a gobsmacking experience to watch. I really don't want to ruin it for anyone who's keen to see it, and to you I say go, support this film and give yourself over to its unique rhythm. It's an Australian story about two young Aboriginals who are struggling to find their path and love. It is funny, thought provoking, terrifying and immensely moving.

I love Melbourne. I love Australia. But what's been going on lately in the outer suburbs of my home town is deeply disturbing, I've been waking at night feeling sick. Young Indian men are being beaten up with alarming regularity and viciousness. As you've probably seen in the media, these attacks have been so brutal and clearly racially motivated that India is rightly appalled and has responded vocally. There was a protest last weekend in the centre of Melbourne and India is already boycotting Australia.

For those of you who came on my Indian journey with me, you'll know that I was welcomed with open arms by almost everyone I came across. It was humbling and life affirming. I've never felt anything quite like it. Even after seven years of living in England, despite being half British, I never felt that sort of warmth, generosity and genuine inquisitiveness. I'm not so naive as to imply that every Indian I met had perfect intentions, or that I didn't experience forms of racism being a light bulb blondie who stuck out a mile, but I was overwhelmingly accepted and respected. For that I will always love India and cannot wait to return.

Nor am I saying that England is utterly standoffish and unwelcoming. I had seven long, fascinating years living there and I met some incredible people. I made friendships with Brits and foreigners alike there that will last forever. I worked for some of the most incredible people I've ever known, but I often felt that the UK kept me at arms length. I had to work so hard to try and fit in, (and afford any sort of lifestyle), at times I felt that it bled me dry of positivity and warmth and strength - three things I like to think I had endless supplies of.

Every country has problems with racism. We live in an incredibly multicultural society and a lot of the time it is tolerant and accepting. Most of the people I know and love in Australia are horrified at what's been happening to these Indian students, young men who've come here to learn from this country and its people - to make a better life for themselves and their family. So why the hatred? Why would a group of young guys attack another group with screwdrivers and fists when they were simply spending the night at a party doing what all young people do - having a bit of fun, a release from their heavy work schedules and the heavy expectations of their families and themselves?

I know this question is complex and throughout history humans have persecuted other humans, sometimes simply in reaction to which god they worship. What I find so completely hideous, is that one young man can look in the eyes of another and just because of the colour of his skin, he can want to kill him. Without knowing his name, his ideals, his family, his history, he can just pick up a screwdriver and attack him and leave him for dead. My heart breaks. It is the ugliest side of this country, of humanity - ignorance that breeds violence is everywhere, but somehow it's worse when it comes from a country that claims to welcome every race, colour and creed. A country that prides itself on diversity and wouldn't be riding out the recession so well, without the hard graft and commitment of the myriad of people from every imaginable background, who keep this country moving forward. Who love this country like their own.

It makes me want to board a plane immediately back to India, to see what I can do to help people there. To seek out the families of those who've been attacked and maimed (some who've died) and apologise to them. To give them all that I have. To let them know that someone really does care about what happened. I am deeply ashamed. Forgive me if you feel I'm being overdramatic, but I have been so happy to be home again. But this feels like a repeat of when I last tried to live back here and the Cronulla riots broke out in Sydney between a bunch of Aussie surfers and some young Lebanese kids. Noone wins in these sort of battles. Bloodshed only breeds pain and suffering.

I keep flashing back to a lovely Indian woman who I met on a train from Jaipur to Lucknow. Her berth was below mine and when the train decided to terminate in Lucknow instead of going on to Varanasi, she heard me talking with a British traveller and her Polish friend about how we'd get there. She got on her phone and organised a car to pick us up (at an ungodly hour) and couldn't have been kinder. When she asked where I was from and I replied, Australia. She smiled. I asked if she'd ever been or wanted to go, she said, "Oh no, I'm afraid I've heard that it's very racist there." I must admit to being taken aback, though she said it without malice, I was a touch put out. It was not the response I was used to when discussing the country of my birth.

Her words keep resounding in my head now. I grew up in the most wonderful country and was mostly blind to the seething hatred that does exist here under the surface (as it did on the estate around the corner from where I lived in Highbury or the neighbourhoods I lived in New York). But if I'm really honest, I remember how some people were teased at school and I remember the shame I felt when friends of mine were mean (and probably I was too) to people who were different, when we should have known better. I clearly recall the effect that Russell Crowe's searing portrayal of a Neo Nazi in ROMPER STOMPER had on me. That was the first time I really saw the dark side of Australia. I had witnessed many news reports of terrible wars and atrocities overseas, but that film's opening sequence was shot in Richmond station. It was a short walk from where I spent my predominantly happy youth. I couldn't believe it.

My father was a newspaperman (and in his heart still is). I used to joke that by the time I awoke, Dad had read at least five newspapers and was ready to discuss the political system in Bulgaria, if you'd let him. Mum and I sometimes rolled our eyes as he spilled information about what had been happening while we slept. (I once gave Mum a keyring that summed us both up, 'I May Rise But I Refuse To Shine') He has always been and continues to be, a sponge for what's going on in the world. I think that made me lazy. He was such a fountain of up to date information, that I hardly needed to open a paper myself. When he hosted a current affairs radio show between 8.30-10 every week morning, he was up at 5am working and reading and researching (there has never been and never will be someone more dilligent than my father), so for 5 years he was gone by the time I made it to breakfast and his voice was the backdrop to many lives during those years.

I try and read the papers and surf a few sites most days, but I must admit that there are those where I get lost inside my own head and don't connect with the world. I take Minnie La Mooch for a walk and connect with Elwood, but I do crave the discipline to consistently look outside myself, to be always grateful for the astounding gifts I have been given in this life and to respect others. I try my best, but I know I could do better.

This week I've been battling with the industry and the internet, trying to extract a job to give my life back here structure. But what sort of meaning am I searching for? I am immensely privileged compared to many in this world, I have a responsibility to do something more with my life. I am proud that I've written a film and achieved some things, but when I compare them to what others have done and are trying to do, I come up short. My grandmother always told us to reach beyond our grasp. I am trying.

In the words of Aretha Franklin, I say a little prayer.

DONE, DUSTED, D'OH!

2009-05-28T03:18:00.006+05:30

I finished it! I have written a feature film. So, so, so happy that I made it through last week. After quite a few struggles, I pushed on to 80 pages. On my second last day, I sat down and wrote 10 more and had an 'ah, I'm almost there, this isn't so bad' moment. Advice - don't ever allow yourself that moment before you've finished (bit like the ANZAC day match where one minute before the siren, I relaxed and thought the Maggies had it in the bag and the Bombers snatched it from us)......

My fricking computer froze on me and I lost 10 pages. That may not sound a lot to some, but when you've just gone from 80 to 90 pages and 100 is your aim, to then go back to 80 when it's mid-afternoon and you're leaving your writing haven the next day - HELL!! So, I huffed and puffed and tried everything to retrieve the missing pages, when I finally realised they were gone forever, I was so tempted to storm next door and complain to Kirst and Nick (her great mate was visiting - he's behind the Playboy with Minnie La Mooch below) but knew instinctively that I'd lose it all in my head.

I sat there and argued with myself. Over and over. Finally I just forced my hands to type. And I did it. I know in my heart that those 10 pages are better for it. Hallelujah. So, I hit page 101 and Kirst popped a bottle of Veuve Cliquot. Owzat! It was the most delicious bottle of champagne ever. My own mini-Cannes.

The next day I packed up and headed back to reality. K dropped me in Mornington just in the nick of time (well the poor guy had to wait a few mins but hey ho) to catch my bus. The sun was shining and I got off in Elwood and walked home feeling light as a feather. I made plans with my oldest, most gorgeous friend Pip for dinner and she took me to an incredible Italian called Da Noi. It was the perfect choice, as it used to be a restaurant called Brummels where I worked when I was a teenager. It was a perfect night. We had about 10 small courses (3 desserts!) and numerous wines - each one was more delicious than the last. Squisito.

The next day I woke up and couldn't help myself, I had to read over the script (despite my promise of the weekend off). Not so bad, but still not happy with the ending. Then I had a fun day meeting my neighbours and getting ready for drinks. I caught up with some friends and had a mini celebration, which was so much fun. I think I played some of the cheesiest tunes in existence - just for a change. Dancing is food for the soul.

Then I took off to Flinders with Dad and did a final edit. Amazing how many mistakes you find when you actually see it on paper. Hame arrived back from the States, where he had a brilliant break and I presented him with the draft. He only finished reading it last night and I asked for positive feedback first, as I know that there are lots of things to improve but it seems he thinks it's a great start. Phew!

We're going to spend the weekend picking it apart and then we start on the long, long, long road of trying to get a feature off the ground. But, I've got a good feeling about this one. I really do.

Now, I have to face the cold, hard truth that I must get a 'real' job. No more spending all my time on docs and writing scripts for a bit. I need to make some cashish and check in properly with the film industry here. I've been under the radar a lot since I got back. Time to get out in the light. Here I am again, reinventing myself for the gazillionth time it seems. It's exciting but so daunting.

Wish me luck.

BATTLING DEMONS BY THE SEA

2009-05-19T07:31:00.007+05:30

I'm on a mission. I'm attempting to write my first feature film script in 9 years and I've chosen an Australian period bio-pic.

I'm not allowed to give the story away or my brother, Hamish, will excommunicate me. Safe to say it's a story that we felt driven to tell and we spent considerable time planning and plotting. Then he nicked off for a holiday in America. I think he's just made it to San Francisco. I'm very jealous.

Though I've got the most incredible setting in which to write. I'm poised on the sea front of Portsea, just above Shelley Beach. The view is breathtaking and this is the house where I spent endless, happy, sunburnt summers growing up. It's also the location where I wrote my last screenplay.

I am most definitely making good headway, but I've hit a rough patch and am battling with myself not to give up too easily. It's Day 9 and I'm on page 76. My aim was 10 pages per day and I kept to that until Sunday. That day of enticing sloth.

I have been doing a mini triathalon most mornings (Sunday being the exception!!!) which is most unusual for me. I've done a little yoga, then a run along the beach with dogs yapping at my heels and demanding balls to be thrown (so not really a proper run) and then much to my surprise I've made it into the ocean pretty much every day to swim around the nearest buoy to the end of the jetty. What a wonderful way to start each day. It's heavenly and makes me feel so alive.

Just in case you don't know this, I am one of the laziest exercisers on this planet. I love yoga, but prefer to do a bit on my own than venture to a class and I have quickly got used to going for a morning walk with Minnie (Hame's divine black Staffordshire bull terrier) but running/jogging. Mein godt! Funny how I've always thought it was only for very fit people to do. But even unfit, jelly belly ol' moi can do it.

I am an ex-smoking asthmatic, so I don't go very fast or far, but it's easy to do and helps walk the dog that much faster. A revelation!

Talking of dogs, my heavenly host Kirsty Begg and I took her old boy Jaffa, who's recovering from an op, Minnie the Minster and Mum and Dad's fluffy puppy Oscar to A Million Paws on Sunday morn. It was hilarious. I couldn't stop laughing at all the different people and their crazy dogs. I'm a late convert, I've always been a cat person but I am completely and utterly taken with Minnie. Unfortunately the heavens kept opening on us, but we managed to go for a wander and check out the stalls and while sipping our much needed cuppas, we stood by the mini competition circle in the centre. The rain was sleeting down and they were having a Tallest Dog comp. Kirsty asked where the other entrants were (only two massive Great Dane's were walking around the circle) and after being told that they hadn't showed, she promptly entered Jaffa and he got third prize!!!! Clever ducky. As she said, "You've got to be in it, to win it" when the judges were poking a bit of fun at her old boy.

So, I'm sitting here on Tuesday morning and I have a deadline of Friday. I know that I can reach my target by the end of the week, but how do I get past this block? I'm having a 'the last section I wrote is crap and I want to give up coz it's all too hard' moment. It's stupid and completely predictable after 8 days of blissful writing, where it felt like the words were spilling forth with ease. I know in my head that this is a first draft, there will be many more and I just need to get it down. But my heart is saying, see you silly girl, what did you think you could just write this script, you've got no talent, you should give up now and get a real job.

But I love filmmaking, I love being creative and I want to give this my best. So, I'm going to make another pot of tea and face the blank page. Please say a little prayer for me to the writing god. I need it.

Lxxxx

LOGIES TO GOGIS

2009-05-11T17:22:00.001+05:30

I caught the Frankston train back to town, (thank you Rob), and got red carpeted at supersonic speed. I had no time to do anything to may hair, but was otherwise together when the cab pulled up. A Croatian guy asked me numerous times how to get to Tony's address and each time I said that I was very rusty as I'd lived away for so long and showed him on the map where we were going. What's happened to the taxi services in this country. I've had so many run ins with taxis not showing up and then when they do (usually late or having to chase them down the street as they refuse to get out of their cars and ever ring a bell) they rarely have any idea how to get around.

Anyway, my very friendly Croatian decides to tell me every detail about the divorce with his wife. Turns out he was a cinematographer back home but couldn't find that work here. He told me all about his travels and many ex-girlfriends, then realised that he'd gone way past the turn off and without any apology, he then made his way back and I went from being early to late. Great!

Tony's car was waiting and I got to give Helen a big hug before we left. It's a tough time for them, but they're so strong. I recounted my weekend's antics as we approached Crown Casino. It was a chilly but clear evening and the crowds were out in force. It took us a while to get through the melee of photographers, cameras and crowds. Tony handled it all so professionally and I posed along side him, wishing I'd ditched my coat, but knowing I'd be happy for it later.

The funniest thing was when we got to the foot of the stairs, Jono Coleman and his radio partner were waiting to interview Tony. He introduced me too and we had such a funny chat. They got the impression that I'd just come back from working for the BBC, so Jono said "I'm sure we worked together in the UK, do you remember?". "It was the highlight of my career thus far", I replied. How funny! They were interviewing Cathy Freeman before us, so we got to have a quick chat with Australia's Olympic gold medallist who's about to get married.

There were amazing frocks everywhere and the stairs we had to climb were very daunting. Luckily at the top was lots of delicious champers and some interesting people. I ended up in a corner with Kerry O'Brien and some other old journos talking about Collingwood and the good ol' days. They all remembered my Dad. It was a lovely feeling. Tony darted around the room and I met all sorts of presenters and newscasters and actors.

Inside, we were sitting on the Golden Logie table. That's the big award that Tony won in the 80s. We had the most brilliant table. Denise Drysdale was an absolute hoot. Rowena Wallace was ascerbic and full of grace. Mike Willisee came in late with a glamorous brunette and stayed for a short while. But Johnny Young. Sigh! He stole my heart.

Let me pause to say that I had a wonderful night, but unfortunately the idiotic woman (Big Brother host!!!) they chose did such a bad job. Plus the sound was hideous and the screens that were put around the room were so pixellated we couldn't see a damn thing, and the steadi-cam operator on stage kept standing in front of the one good screen. It was a mess. So we all ended up drinking and chatting amongst ourselves. It didn't feel like the awards were inclusive of the audience in the room. They were simply aimed at the television audience.

So, after seeing Rebecca Gibney pick up her awards and looking incredibly stunning, I gathered my courage and went to sit next to Johnny. He remembered my Dad well and when I told him what a huge fan I'd been of Young Talent Time he smiled a knowing smile. "Could you bear to sing All My Lovin'?", I asked breathlessly. He smiled and launched straight into it. I sang along with him and to be honest, I can now die happy.

During the awards I had some fun chats to various people, in particular the gorgeous Ruby Rose. She told me that her necklace was vintage Tiffany's from the 70s and it looked incredible with her glamorous navy gown and her punk rock hair and tatts. What a chick!

The after party is a complete blur of dancing and lychee martinis. I have visions of Tony and I taking turns to get more and more drinks. We were laughing and dancing and had a ball. Suddenly it was time to go home and I'd only had the chance to wave at various friends and acquaintances. I wish I could do it over again, but hey ho.

I feel like I've only just recovered. Luckily I could throw myself into my research for the screenplay and escape to the State Library (WOW) where I disappeared in a pile of books. I am now so excited to have started the script. My first in so long. It feels great to be writing again. I can't give away anything about it (as Hamish would kill me) except to say that it's an Australian story set in the nineteenth century. Clearly an easy one to tackle after so long. Eeeek!

I finished the week with a mother daughter lunch at the Alexandra Club. It was such a funny experience, but filled with some lovely people. Most who hadn't seen me since I was tiny wee. I sat next to a woman who told me stories about her husband that made my blood run cold. Note to self - never, every marry a selfish prick who gambles all day and plays Playstation all night while you look after the kids.

Seated next to her was the wife of Charles Searby who is Ian Darling's screenwriting partner. Oh, I forgot that Ian's wonderful doc OASIS was up for a Logie but sadly didn't win. I went over to commiserate and then brought him back to our table. I also ran into Alison Wyatt and Caroline Craig at various stages of the night.

So I'm not really supposed to talk about GOGI. It's a bit like fight club. But I just have to say that I'm so glad I stuck around in Melbs for our inaugural event. I met so many brilliant people and am so excited about our next meet. I need to do more to take me outside of my comfort zone in Melbs. There are so many interesting adventures just waiting, and people to meet.

Forgot to mention an art opening for Sarah Rennolds (sorry Sarah can't remember your maiden name) who has married Steve. The Nellie Castan Gallery on River St hosted a preview last week and it was such fun to see her work. She's very talented and I'm excited to see where she goes next. It was seriously trippy running into SO many faces, many I hadn't seen since teenage years, in the one small, sweaty room. My gorgeous mate Stelllar showed up and we ended up having a fantabulous evening after.

Congrats to Steve and Sarah and the various other pregnant couples I know (some I can't mention by name). And to my cousin Charlie and his fiancee Katie - such divine news. Oh yeah, and to all those who've just had a little one (Dave and Penny, Ridders and his lady....) many congrats everybody. My what a productive time it is. I'm just trying to give birth to a script. Say a little prayer to the writing god for me. Bless you Kirst, for giving me somewhere to escape to and just write, write, write.

I'll be back when I've come up for air.
Lxxxxx

MY OH MY IT'S MAY!

2009-05-05T09:58:00.003+05:30

Since my return from Sydney the time has been rushing by. First I must reflect on ANZAC day, which was very special. I haven't been in Oz for ANZAC day for a long time and for those who don't know, it's a day to honour the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. It originated as the term to represent those fighting the Turks in the Battle of Gallipoli in WWI. It has now grown to encompass other battles and wars and those of our troops still fighting for our country.

My father and I met at 4.45am to walk to the ANZAC shrine where the dawn service was to take place. There was the most incredible mixture of young and old. A friend of Dad's, Tony Charlton, has been hosting the event for over 30 years. His voice resounded over loud speakers, recounting snippets of soldier's stories, poetry and history. Tony's voice is clear and full of emotion, but so respectful and moving. It was an incredible experience standing amongst 40,000 people. The silences were heavy but the service was uplifting.

There was a shared companionship and respect that is hard to describe. Everyone there was deeply affected by the words, prayers and music (one pity is that the Welsh Choir sounded like they were strangling each other under water). I appreciated the time to reflect on both my grandfathers' great courage. My Australian grandfather was killed in the Fall of Singapore when Dad was only 2 years old. My English grandfather served in both World Wars only to die of a heart attack in his early 70s. I wish I had known these incredible men. It is so important to remember them and all of those who have fallen. Lest we forget.

I read in the paper the next day that a young boy, about 6 years old and at his first dawn service, went up to one of the old boys covered in medals and said, "Thank you for saving the world." The man replied, "You're welcome son. You just made my day." I am enjoying feeling immensely proud of my country. However, I can't say I am immensely proud of my father's football team - Collingwood aka The Magpies.

All the Macs covered themselves in black and white and went to the ANZAC day match against Essendon. I think the last time all four of us were at the footy together, might have been at the 1990 Grand Final when we beat the Bombers/Essendon. We had a nice lunch in the Harrison Room and Jack Pimm (a war veteran who played for the Magpies) was on our table as well as some other fun people. The crowd was so excitable and we had a monster match ahead. It was an amazing contest and I take full responsibility. In the last 5 minutes when we were a few goals ahead, I let myself relax and believe that we had it in the bag. The Bombers snatched the ball and escaped the jaws of defeat in the last 30 seconds. It was a very sad ending to a fantastic match. Both Dad and I had almost no voice by the end of it all.

I was absolutely shattered by the evening (post Sydney/dawn service/footy) but had to push on through for Hamish's birthday bash. We had such a fun night. All sorts of people showed up and the bar got absolutely packed. By midnight I was completely done in. Hame still doesn't believe me. I really did come home and crash. Promise!

For Hame's real birth date we had an incredible dinner at the Stoke House. It has the most delicious fish dishes and sits right on the ocean. Unfortunately it was bucketing down with the most intense rain, but it was fun being rugged up inside watching it pelt towards us.

I also had the pleasure of seeing an old school mate, Caroline Craig, walk the boards at The Arts Centre. Her play, The Bridesmaids, takes a long hard look at fidelity when two friends are forced to tell their friend, the blushing bride, that her man has been cheating on her - the night before her wedding. It stirred up some ferocious debate in the bar afterwards and I adored meeting Jacqui Weaver who plays the bride's mother. She is on her 5th husband (who joined us and is also an actor, Sean of the velvet voice) and had some pearls of wisdom to impart.

I saw an incredibly beautiful film with Mum called ELEGY, starring Penelope Cruz and Ben Kingsley. Gosh it's fun going on missions together again. We had the wind knocked out of us by the performances. It was an amazing experience and without ruining it for anyone who might read this and see it, be warned that it's very sad but so beautiful - it brought back many memories. I was gasping for air by the end.

There were only 6 people in the cinema as we went to a naughty afternoon session. When two of the women walked out, we recognised each other. One of the ladies was Kerry Gillespie, the mother of an old friend of mine called Alexis. Her father, Kerry's late husband, Wayne was one of Australia's most talented architects. It was harrowing to hear what she went through when he fell ill while on a trip in the Middle East. She had to spend 6 weeks looking after him in the most rudimentary hospital all by herself. He was too sick to move, but made a recovery and came back to Oz. Then cancer overtook his body. She is such an inspiration, as she now works in food kitchens and helps street kids.

I then had a wonderful visit to my parents' place in Flinders. I couldn't help watching the Collingwood match with Dad and this time we didn't get the Collywobbles. We beat North Melbourne convincingly and Leon Davis is my new hero. He is so small and cheeky and talented. He took a wonderful flying mark that was the highlight.

The weather at the weekend was flawless. The clearest, most divine Autumn days. Hame had organised with his great friend Jane Liscombe (Producer extraordinaire) to meet up at her parents' place in Mt Martha. We went on an incredible walk along the cliff to Mornington where we ate like kings and then explored the town. We ended up taking booze and chips and lollies (no dinner needed!!!) back to the house and dancing around singing at the top of our lungs. Livin' On A Prayer was the highlight.

Now I wish I had time to recount the Logies but I need to get on with my research into the screenplay that Hame and I are writing together. Next week I'm disappearing to Portsea to stay with an old friend and to write every day. Then Hame will come back from his American trip and rip it to pieces. Fingers crossed we end up with the start of something big. I have a great feeling about this story. I can't tell anyone about it yet, but watch this space.

Logies (the big TV awards) aftermath coming up shortly. I haven't quite recovered yet....
Lxxx

DIAMONDS IN THE ROUGH

2009-04-29T17:37:00.004+05:30

The rest of my time in Sydney raced by far too quickly. I met up with many old, friendly faces. Some new mates appeared as if my magic, like Emma who was visiting from Mumbai. She and Cam were robbed in Geneva and she lost her passports and visas. She had to come back to Oz to get a new Indian visa, so we had a mini Mumbai reunion with her gorgeous mate Reesh.

Funny how fidelity is a theme that keeps popping up of late. Ems and I had a long chat about it and I just saw a play that explored its importance. More on that later though.

The uber talented Ian Darling kindly agreed to make some space for us to meet, despite the fact that he's deep in pre production on a 20 minute fiction short (he usually makes docs) that he has written, is directing and producing. He was inspired by the intricately twisted stories of the people he met when making his most recent documentary for the ABC called THE OASIS. It's an incredible film about street kids and a wonderful man called Paul (and his devoted wife) who runs a drop in centre in the middle of Sydney with the Salvos. It's extraordinary.

Ian is very humble about his achievements, but Rachael has roped him into doing a Friday On My Mind, which I'm sure will be great. He starts shooting his film very soon and I wish him and his crew the very best. Thanks for the lift Ian. He dropped me off after our meet at The Pier. My golly gosh what a fantabulous restaurant. I was treated to the most delicious meal in beautiful Rose Bay. Talk about spoilt rotten!!

The next morning I woke up Phillip Adams, who is such an old friend of my father's. They used to be the closest of colleagues and friends, and though they hardly see each other anymore, the bond is SO strong. We had agreed a time that surprised me (9.30am) as he does a late night radio show, but after ringing and ringing the bell he answered and looked utterly shattered. I told him all about my Legacy idea and the various things I'm working on and he couldn't have been more supportive. It's so encouraging to get such positive feedback, across the board, but from someone who has spent his life interviewing people and delving into real life stories, it was fascinating to get his take on how the idea might develop.

I left Phillip's incredible pad (he's into Egyptology so the house is filled with astounding figures and spears and knick knacks) with such a spring in my step, and wound my way through Paddington and into a beautiful park and somehow ended up in Rushcutters Bay. I'm always amazed when I make it where I'm supposed to be going. I have such a hideous sense of direction, so must have a map with me at all times. My worst habit it getting out of stations and talking on the phone and just walking a million miles an hour whilst chatting and not knowing where the hell I'm going. I suddenly realise that I'm utterly lost and hang up in a panic. Not an ideal habit!

Anyway, lunch was with the heavenly Murray Bell who runs Semi Permanent - a design conference that is finally coming to Melbourne later this year. He and I met through my great mate Jeremy Boxer in London and it's been fun keeping tabs on how Murray and Semi P have developed. We had a munch in the sunshine with his divine dog Bo snuffling around us.

That night I had the best fun hooning around town saying goodbye to everyone. I ended up at a random party somewhere called The Club where I danced around with a bunch of the best girls. Thank you Christine, Alice and Clare for going the distance. Not to mention everyone else who made it a wonderful send off for me. You're all gorgeous and Jo, you're so right that Icebergs is divine. I also had a ball at Darlo Bar. It brought back so many memories of when I was last in Sydney.

Sigh! Wish I had the energy to fill you in on marvellous Melbourne and what's been going on since my return but I leave that for next time. You'll have to wait to hear about the breathtaking ANZAC dawn service, the hideous Collywobbles, Hame's birthday bash, Caroline's play and more....the Logies are this Sunday. You should see the shoes I bought today for the occasion.

Lxxxx

ROCKING SYDNEY & THE ASTRAS

2009-04-22T04:40:00.006+05:30

Sydney is such a blast. I absolutely adore this stunning city!

I've been welcomed back with open arms by so many old friends and colleagues. After some initial sunshine there has been quite a bit of crazy, tropical rain but nothing can dampen my spirits right now.

Tony Barber took me to the ASTRA awards on the Fox lot. Unfortunately his divine wife Helen has been unwell, so I got to be his date!! He is not only one of the nicest men on the planet, but he's an incredible host. He knew so many interesting people and was in attendance representing TV1, who he does a lot of work for. They had a tranche of nominations, mainly for their program STUPID, STUPID MEN.

TV1 walked off with quite a few awards, so our tables got very happy. Why there have to be quite so many awards at these things I'll never know and they're always baking hot, but lots of fun. Peter Hudson (CEO of TV1) was our host and what a lovely man he is. I was lucky to be amidst a great crew and we had pole position of the main stage. One problem was that during the award presentations or performances, the waiters weren't allowed to serve booze. So we had to keep racing behind the curtain to get more wine, I crossed paths with many fun people behind the velvet curtains.

I loved the cast of MEN, particularly Leah Vandenberg who looked gorgeous in her traditional Indian dress. Of course we immediately connected about India (she's of Sri Lankan descent) and swapped many stories. Matthew Newton was racing about looking dashing and of course Tone's known him via his father Bert since he was a wee tot. Wayne Hope and I chatted over the course of the eve, I was curious that after he won the award for Best Perf by a Male Actor (beating Matt) he then got up and gave a scathing attack on Pay TV. It was funny at times, but a bit surprising given that the room was full of the top execs with fat (tish) pay cheques.

When we walked the red carpet, we chatted to the divine Miss M - that's Madga Szubanski - who looked glorious in a tight black dress, Marilyn Monroe hair and red lips. Her tap dancing routine on stage was the highlight of the night. She was presenting with Wayne during his diatribe and looked a touch surprised, but handled it well. I guess those nights need a bit of a shake up, but I doubt it will make it into the telecast later this week.

The opening number was a raucous routine by a gang of Stomp dancers. They were incredible - so energetic and fun, banging on garbage cans New York style. At the after party, I had a lovely chat to Alison Whyte (heavenly redhead) who won the Best Perf by a Female Actor for her role in the saucy SATISFACTION, caught up with Peter O'Brien after many many years (we met via the gorgeous Lisa Hensley years ago at Notting Hill Carnival) and then made a bee line for the Stomp dancers, who were carving up the dance floor. Sorry Troy, loved your breakdancing moves but I had to hit the hay!

I must mention my wonderful friend Rachael Turk who left her post as Editor of Inside Film (one of the top Aussie film mags) to pursue her own projects at the end of last year. She's hosting these brilliant nights at the AFTRS (Australia's best film school) called Friday On My Mind. I went to the last one to support her and thought it was excellent. They've got a session on SAMPSON & DELILAH coming up, which is an incredible film. It is a modern, fucked up Romeo & Juliet story, that's set in an Aboriginal township outside Alice Springs. I must say, it made me proud to come back to an industry that funds films such as this. It got major buzz at the Adelaide Film Festival, where MY YEAR WITHOUT SEX (the wonderful director Sarah Watt's new film, which Andy B has also invested in) opened the festival.

I'm also fascinated to see that there is a doc that's in post at the moment called INTO THE SHADOWS. It's about the Aussie industry and what's wrong with it. They interviewed Rachael for the film, along with BALIBO's Rob Connelly, Bruce Beresford and many more luminaries from the industry. They're exploring why audiences just don't respond (particularly in Oz) to Aussie films. There is rarely more than one break out (internationally) film a year and there should be more. It's strange, because audiences really remember the good films that have catapulted into our consciousness (KENNY & WOLF CREEK are probably the most successful of late but LANTANA, THE CASTLE, MURIEL'S WEDDING, PRISCILLA & STRICTLY BALLROOM are some of the best films made anywhere, anytime) and think the industry must be robust.

There are some good moves being made, for example I read that this year there are over 40 features coming out in Oz (almost one a week) and that's double the last few years, directly due to tax breaks. There are obviously many, many more being produced but those are films with distribution deals and that are on exhibitors' slates. I can't wait to see how people respond to Wayne Thornton's SAMPSON & DELILAH as it's a tough watch and sell, but it's pure poetry. I saw a preview screening with Andy, Matt Hearn (Producer of ROGUE, WOLF CREEK) and Julius Avery (whose short JERRYCAN has won so many accolades, particularly the Special Jury Prize in Cannes last year where I met him) and we were all blown away.

So if you get the chance to go to Rachael's Friday on My Mind or can seek out S&D, I say go and support our industry. I must get on the road as I've got lots of people to see before I leave on Friday.

Ahhh, the sun has just come out.
Divine.

SHOOTING STARS IN RURAL OZ

2009-04-19T04:01:00.007+05:30

What a way to fall back in love with one’s country. Just hit the road and immerse yourself in the landscape. And the people.

For my first project, I’ve been lucky enough to be invited into the fold of a close knit family who after a bit of cajoling, opened up to the camera like a bunch of pros. My first Aussie client for Legacy is a fascinatingly diverse Catholic family who are spread around Victoria and over the boarder into NSW.

The matriarch of the family had 14 children of which 12 survived and she now has 31 grandchildren. I’m making the film with her eldest grandchild, who is a very old friend of mine, Andrew Barlow.

His father John is the eldest sibling and luckily he was there over Easter to vouch for me. Which made a huge difference. Having known him for about 20 years, I guess mutual respect was evident and that allowed for his gorgeous Mum and fascinating siblings to trust me. Though they took a bit of convincing, some more than others, we managed to get a huge amount of footage and interviews done.

It was such a different experience for me, as usually I interview filmmakers about their projects and though we may talk about challenging things, it’s overall pretty positive. I have never had to deal with uncomfortable emotions. And the tears flowed, freely at times and tough memories were aired. It was a humbling and fascinating experience. I had to really stop myself from trying to console people and letting that raw emotion flow for the camera.

I’ve seen it on film sets. I’ve cried watching actors’ emotions come flooding out during a scene. I’ll never forget shooting Penelope Cruz and Rhys Ifans in the Isle of Man (very glamorous!!!). They knocked the whole crew’s socks off. Watching real professionals like that batting words at each other, it’s like witnessing top violinists playing a duet. It’s poetry in motion, cheesy but true.

I think because we were planning this as a test shoot and we weren’t sure how the Barlow clan would react, Andy’s and my expectations were pretty low. We planned to get lots of B Roll and background filler, perhaps one or two interviews, particularly with his Nana. But in the end, they were almost lining up to talk. It was truly an incredible experience. As it was Easter weekend, with its religious significance and because it’s a time when family come together, we just hit a sweet spot or something. But everyone opened up to the camera and blew us away with their honesty.

What a beautiful camera we hired for the shoot. Thanks to the guys at Video Australasia and to Hamish, Campbell Knott and Jeremy Boxer for all their advice. The Sony EX1 records High Def footage straight onto PC cards or a hard drive. This allows you to download the footage direct to your computer. If you have a MacBook Pro, the card slots right into the express slot and away you go at around 8 x real time.

Though of course it wasn’t that simple. We had a variety of technical hitches but luckily Andy has a techno brain, so he did battle and mostly won.

The footage looks beautiful. I can’t wait to go over it all and plan our next shoot. It’s dependent on various schedules but hopefully we might even get in some more shoot days before Cannes in May. It’s gutting that BALIBO didn’t get into the final selection. They’d got such a great reaction from one of the programmers, but there are some strong Aussie films this year.
I know that Rob Connelly, BALIBO’s talented Director, is still fine tuning the film. I can’t wait to see it. Though I haven’t been involved at all, Andy is an Exec Producer and feels very connected to the people and the project after spending time on set and getting his film hands dirty. It sounds like the East Timor section of the shoot was incredible and changed the lives of many people involved.

Check out this link to see Rob talking about it and a few sneak peaks.

Working on a film set is an experience that’s hard to describe to people who have never been near one. If you ever do visit, it seems like nothing is happening and then there are short bursts of intense activity when you ‘turn over’. But if you’re working on one, you know that every minute of every day the crew is trying to align all the moveable parts, all the myriad elements such as light, wardrobe, actors, design, props, make up etc. etc. etc. With crews that can surpass 100 people, it takes time to get each section in place and move forward as a team.

But on a good set, it fast becomes like a family. You form such intense friendships and it’s like you’re in a world all of your own. A bubble. That noone can touch or understand. It’s a crazy life, as sometimes it can be hard to get back to your ‘real life’ after each film. I’m not sure how healthy it all is, but if the elements are right (and filmmaking is true alchemy) it can be an incredibly enriching experience. Or it can be a nightmare!

Anyway, I’m up in Sydney at the moment and have lots to write about that but must save it for the next instalment. I’m heading to the ASTRA Awards with the wonderful Tony Barber. Pity I can’t wear my killer heels, but I’ve got a great frock and am getting myself all glammed up. The dress code is ‘sophisticated’ so I’m interested to see what the Sydney world of television comes up with. Will be a bit different from the BIFAs and the BAFTAs I’m sure. More soon.

MY CUP RUNNETH OVER

2009-03-18T20:45:00.004+05:30

Sorry for my silence.

It's been a month since I left the sunny shores of India for the distant shores of another. Australia. Home? I still call it that.

It's 3am and yet again I'm wide awake at an ungodly hour. It's not jet lag. It's just mayhem inside my head right now. I'm like a battery that has been fully charged and keeps turning itself on ready to go, go, go.

Since my return, so much has happened. I am amazed that my old friends can even remember me, I've been away so long, but some loyal friends (too many to mention but it's just heaven getting to know everyone again as adults and to meet their children and husbands - my heavenly godchild Mila must get a special mention) and my divine family have helped me to feel welcome and missed. It's a wonderful thing, being loved. And those friendships that go back 20 and even some 30 years, are golden. Truly.

There have been a lot of dramas. My gorgeous brother broke up with his lady on my first night back. My lovely cousin has had neurosurgery and can't walk further than 10 steps yet, which makes it hard for her 1 year old daughter not to mention her husband, mother..... A great friend from London has found out that her mother is terminally ill and is battling to get back to her side. That is every Aussie's nightmare who lives half a world away. My tenants have had similar news and have had to return to New Zealand. One of my father's school friends keeled over at 70 on the golf course and died of a stroke.......I could go on and on. It's real life. Adult life.

What I realise now, more than ever, is how important family is. And in that department, anyone who knows me, my little bro and my parents (not to mention my uncles, aunts and cousins) would agree that I am more than blessed.

I have only been back to Oz 3 times in the last decade. I have been living away from the nucleus of my family (though they have visited me as often as they could) for 12 years. 12 years! How did that happen? It is undeniable that time marches on with a vengeance.

I arrived in Mumbai under a cloud of terrorist fire and smoke. To Victoria, I arrived amidst a deluge of bush fires and a state emergency of a different kind. This country is vast and vicious when it wants to be. Life here is not as simple as one might think. This island is tough and rough and heaven all at once.

While floods devastated Queensland, bushfires raged in Victoria. How nuts is that? As most people would know by now, there were 5 or so days where the temperature soared over 40 degrees celsius (way over 100 degrees fahrenheit) and even reached 45 on the last day. The winds picked up something awful and unthinkable though it is, people dropped cigarette butts, arsonists did the sickest thing you can imagine and nature did even worse. The combination was explosive. Whole towns were completely razed. The radiant heat could kill you long before the fire reached your house. Whole families were burnt to cinders. The fire was unpredictable and unstoppable. It just jumped the Hume Highway like it was a dirt track. That's like jumping the M3. Seriously.

So, I returned to a country where the oldest form of terror was reigning. Pure survival. I witnessed it bring out the very best in everyone. I was so proud to be home. So proud of my Aussie roots, despite my somewhat Pommi-fied accent. Thankfully, my kin were safe but like when the Twin Towers went down, everyone knows someone effected. The stories that have emerged are often hideous and often inspiring.

Last time I tried to live in Oz, it was 9 years ago. I felt suffocated in Melbourne and went up to Sydney to give it a try. Now don't get me wrong, I love Sydney. I'm not one of those Melbournians who turns up their noses at that brash, beautiful city. But I was disgusted when the Cronulla riots broke out between the Aussie surfer dudes and the Lebanese boys. It was the worst side of Australia. Racism is the ugliest of sins. Unfortunately pig ignorance is not confined to the rednecks of America. I got on the plane back to London with a huge sigh of relief.

This time I'm doing my utmost to not offend my loved ones again. Or my country. And Aussies are extremely proud of their country. Don't you just love being here? Too bloody right you should be. Isn't it just the best? What you been doing over in Pommie land so long? What's with your accent? Who the hell do you think you are?

'Faaark you babe.'

That's the exact text I woke up to, shortly after my return. It made me laugh so hard. My family's Aussie rules team (the Mighty Maggies a.k.a. Collingwood) had beaten one of our old rivals (Essendon). Then we were creamed, seriously beaten to a pulp in the pre-season final. When one of my mates texted me that the Pies were shit. I retorted, what does that make the Bombers if we beat you last week? The above was his response.

Ahhhh Aussie rules footie. What fun it is to watch again, though I'm a bit rusty on all the rules and tactics, it is a joy. Even when being beaten by Geelong. I dragged a London visitor straight off the aeroplane to the new Etihad Stadium and into the throng of mega thousands of Aussies (mostly male, many bogans, mostly divine!). Although she'd never seen a match before, she had a ball. Ha!

It's great having Johanna here, as there are still so many parts of Melbs that I haven't revisited. She adored the coast, where my parents are based. Having her here, almost feels like I'm still on holiday. Though our days are packed and I've got a lot of responsibilities to fulfil, she is such a good friend that it's working out well. Johanna is someone I met through the film industry in London and I'm honoured that our friendship has become so much more.

The film industry here is scared, but forging on (like most industries right now I guess). The recession has really hit, as the bushfires have finally gone out and the rains have come. Everyone is now back to reality. And the reality is harsh. Half of Toorak, our poshest suburb - Chelsea equivalent - is owned by the banks. I know many people out of work and terrified about their future.

There has been SO much money in Melbourne, (everywhere I turn there's a Rolls Royce it seems), there are a lot of young people who just thought that life was always a bed of roses. They don't have survival skills. It's really scary. But also challenging and fascinating and terrifying.

I am resolute to move forward with my new company Legacy and it's taking shape. I want to help families record their history - on film, on tape or on line. It's getting such a positive response and I have my first client. He is a very old friend who is making his way into films and we're in talks about some other projects too. Plus I have other irons in other fires and it seems that I'm committing myself to stay. Shhhh.

Everyone's first question is always - How long are you here for? And my response has been, I'm just seeing how it fits, no promises for now. I don't want to disappoint or offend anyone again and I need to be where the work is. My round the world ticket takes me to LA - NYC - London but it's valid until November.

Thank god my beloved brother has taken me under his wing and given me his spare room. I feel like the little sister! Thank god my parents are the kindest people on earth - so supportive and generous. I feel incredibly lucky to have some time to work things out. So many people don't have that breathing space. I worked like crazy up until the last minute I departed London.

Having proper time out in India was true bliss. I haven't felt that sort of freedom in forever. I let go of technology, guilt, baggage, worry, night terrors, fear and so much more. It's indescribable the difference I feel within myself. Life is too short to carry all that shit around.

Back here, I'm doing my utmost to channel the freedom and resolve that I used to recharge my weary soul. I want my life to be worthwhile. Australia is an incredible country. It's not perfect. But neither am I.

Lx

THIS IS MY LAST GOODBYE

2009-02-10T14:29:00.006+05:30

It's taken me a while to catch my breath. Sorry for the silence but I needed to let my last week in India wash over me. It is intoxicating and irresistible to me, though I know some might disagree I truly feel that this is the most inspiring and rewarding country on earth.

I arrived back in Bombay feeling slightly smug that I'd made it around India without catching what most travellers succumb to. You've heard the horror stories I'm sure. I had a gorgeous welcome back girlie eve with Emma, (Cam is still working like a dog, but has made leaps and bounds with his missions here and is rightfully proud, as am I), and laid down on my bed aching for sleep. A few short hours later I was awoken by a volcano in my belly and spent the whole night trying not to pass out on the floor of the bathroom. You get my drift.

When I wobbled out of my room at 7am, white as a sheet, Cam laughed and said, "Your trip wouldn't have been complete without getting properly sick!" True perhaps, but not ideal with Tomer making his way to Bombay to meet me that afternoon and a nice hotel all booked. Hmmmm.

Hallelujah for the Ayurvedic medicine that a kind friend recommended. For anyone who travels in India, leave your western medicine behind and go straight to an Ayurvedic doctor. I had recovered (mostly) by the time Tomer and I met up. And we've just had a gorgeous end to both our trips to India. I'm writing this from an internet cafe in Churchgate and I have about 6 hours left of my time in India.

Varanasi (Benares) has had a HUGE affect on me. Perhaps it's because I saved it for the last stretch of my trip, or because by the time I arrived I'd heard so many amazing stories and had already given myself over to the rhythmn of India. But nothing can prepare you for this ancient, mystical, dark city.

So many times during my time there (too short) me, and the travellers I met, tried to put into words how we were feeling about Varanasi. Without fail, the conversation would trail off into a sort of stunned, shared silence. The best way I can describe it (physically) is like Jerusalem crossed with Venice. It truly feels like time stands still there, like it has for centuries. It is known as Kashi, the city of light, with good reason.

It is a brutal place. Death does a constant dance right in front of you. In your face. There are bodies burning, right on the banks of the river. But the beauty and the sacred depth of the place do outweigh the filth, the decay and the seething underbelly. The people I met there were incredible. The emotions I felt there were deep. It cut through me and then sewed me back up again.

Despite moving abodes twice when I last wrote to you, I decided to move one more time back to the previously full guest house that had been recommended to me by Nichole. When I returned to check it out, Ashish insisted I move in. He gave me a room for 180 rupees (two pounds fifty) that overlooked the Ganga. Though small and extremely basic, it was a true haven.

Bizarrely, when I went to visit him for tea, Tomer called and said I must go and stay at Kedar Ghat. When I told him that I was sitting at Shiva International Lodge in Kedar, he replied that his guest house was the one directly on top of it. That clinched it. I returned to Vishnu, packed by bag for the gazillioneth time and made my way along the Ganga dodging touts and the detritus that will catch you unawares, if you don't look down.

At Shiva, I met a gaggle of Frenchies, Israelis, Brits, Brazillians, Russians and a Greek guy. Most speak at least 3 languages and play at least 3 instruments. Humbling to say the least. We had some heavenly music sessions. Just outside the guest house door was the best bead maker in Varanasi, Bandu, and a chai stand run by Ravi.

I had a glorious few days exploring the town, in particular the day that I met my new friend, a talented fashion designer called Nichola who is from Canada and lives in Italia. He introduced me to his wonderfully bright and mischievous guide Kishore and we spent an incredible day exploring the back streets of Varanasi. I just don't have the energy to describe the whole day right now, but the highlight has to be the wrestlers we went to visit, who were visibly shocked to have a woman in their compound. I hope you like the photo of me and the guys (to come)!!!

I made one daytrip to the incredible sacred Bhuddhist site of Saranath. This is where Bhuddha gave his very first lecture and is a special place. A real haven where you can breathe, only 20 kms away from the staggering mayhem and onslaught that is Varanasi. My companions were Sarah from England and Glem from Brazil, mates from the guest house. Can you believe that in the rick on the way there, Sarah asked me about my work and then realised that she'd seen me give a talk in Hackney about Filmaka? Too bizarre!

There was a Saraswati (god of education) festival on the weekend I arrived. Big gangs of young guys, (women are not so present in this city, it's deity is Shiva and it is truly a masculine place), were throwing red powder at each other and dancing in the streets to screeching music. They carried statues made of straw and clay and painted up like dolls down to the Ganga where they chanted, jumped in boats and then dropped them into the river. It was extraordinary.

This city has to be the noisiest place on earth. I'm so glad that I didn't realise that the piercing howls I heard every night were gangs of male dogs raping the females, until after I left. Though the sounds still haunt me. The air is heavy, but the Ganga countermands this. Although it's polluted (seriously you don't want to know) after a few days, you can see how seriously the people worship it and their rituals quickly becomes normal. I even stood in it when I did my first pooja (sacred offering) and let a holy man drip water on my hands. When in Rome!

One of the strangest experiences I had, was witnessing a British guy make a bonfire and ceremoniously burn his little toe. Seriously. It had gone gangreneous the previous year and he'd kept it mummifying in a matchbox, brought it with him to Varanasi and then just next to where we were all sitting and making music, he gathered with a bunch of friends and burnt it ("It's fizzing!!". Before you get squeamish, imagine watching whole bodies being cremated in front of you. That happens every day on the banks of the Ganga. And sadly I hear, the horrendous fires in Australia have brought many innocent people and their homes to a premature cremation. I say a little prayer.

On my last night in Varanasi, the mist rolled in as we sat by the fire drinking tea, smoking and jamming. I was sat between two of the most exquisite guitar players (Nicholas and Oli) while Sagi jumped between the flute, the tabla and the guitar. I even sang a bit, joining the others. At one stage, we realised that the mist had come in so close that it simply melded into the Ganga, so it looked like we were sitting by an abyss. I had to keep pinching myself that it was real.

It was magical. I met a couple who were leaving to get married in Nepal (aforementioned Oli and his British bride Fiona) with 20 guests, was serenaded by a Tibetan devotee and made endless pots of tea with Sagi. We were sitting outside his room, which is where I watched every sunrise. In fact, I watched 5 sunrises in a row in Varanasi. It was only the last night that was sleepless, I was just so charged being there and wanting to experience every minute that I needed very little rest.

I have another roll of pictures to develop, so I'll put more photos up soon but I hope these suffice for now. I'm sorry but I have to leave it there. I'm heading to Singapore tonight to visit my divine friend Maddy and my goddaughter Charlotte, (plus her Daddy Harry and her sister Claudia), and then I'm on to Oz where I arrive on Friday the 13th!!!

It feels so good to be heading home. I can't wait to see everyone. I'm not sure when I'll be writing here again, but I promise to do my best to keep this up in some fashion. Thank you to everyone who has been reading. Please leave your comments. I'd love to hear from you.

Namaste.

Lxxxxx

DOUBLE DOWNLOAD JEOPARDY

2009-01-31T21:15:00.006+05:30

Ok, so after two massive brawls and a few hundred rupees, I moved myself to a wonderful guest house where my room overlooks the Ganga. It's perfect and is one of the original guest houses catering to travellers. I've met a great range of people already and don't even mind that my room doesn't have a sink! Or the crazy noises that emanate from the ghats below.

So before I bang on about Varanasi, which I'll leave for after my sunrise boat trip to check out the burning ghats and see the city from the water, I'll take you back to Jaipur.

My one and only festival post was in a sleep deprived, wine filled and floating state. As you may recall, I had just heard Rumi poetry purify my soul, (or was it that I was just overwhelmed by the atmosphere?), and sat next to Leila Seth. Well, I kept my promise and bought her autobiography the next day, and I tracked her down to dedicate it. I'm absolutely loving the book and had no idea I'd plonked myself next to India's first female Chief Justice. She trained as a lawyer after having her second child, in her 'down-time' when in London with no help whatsoever except for 2 weeks before her exams.

In the Durbar Hall of the Jaipur Literature Festival, I think I experienced the most stimulating and diverse week of my life. It's impossible for me to share with you all the authors and poets and musicians who took part (and don't forget I was in one of three venues, so sadly missed Thomas Keneally!!). So, I'll give you some bullet points to avoid this turning into yet another missive:

* Gulzar, truly one of India's most loved poets and lyricists (as previously mentioned) bears a second reference as Nichole (who ran the music stage on the front lawn and has become a mate) gave me a book of his poetry as a memento.

* I know I've been rabbitting on about his Mum, but Vikram Seth did a wonderful discussion on the front lawn whilst sipping red wine, of which a snap appeared in the local press and outraged many people. Honestly, he was sipping a glass of wine!!

* Alice Albinia is a British author and I can't wait to read her books, she was constantly referred to as a rising star. She was so bright and one of the few women on the stage, plus we shared a charpoy when listening to the Baul and shared nuts and bolts.

*Nadeem Aslam gave a fascinating look at India and its future with the brilliant Shoma Chaudhury hosting (another fab female).

*My new hero, Tarun Tejpal, who edits a brilliant magazine Tehelka, who stormed into the hall and blew everyone's socks off.

* The debate hosted by Madhu Trehan (top notch journo) and Manoj Raghuvanshi arguing "Whether it's possible to be honest in India?". Wow was this heated and fascinating, the stories of corruption, mostly shared by the audience were truly shocking, despite what one might have heard and read. There was even a murder witness in the audience who shared her story, which was chilling. And humbling.

*Chetan Bhagat got all the school kids and the women in a tizz, he has tapped into the younger generation's hearts and minds as no other author I saw there. I kept telling his kids off for making too much noise and his wife actually thanked me at the after party!!

*Patrick French in conversation with Pico Iyer. Need I say more? Heaven. Such different styles and such fascinating men.

* Nandita Das, Prasoon Joshi, Nasreen Munni Kabir and Vikas Swarup making the crowd swoon. This was actually a hellish session as any whiff of Bollywood and the audience went mad. I lost my cool during this session, the one and only time in the whole fest.

* My true hero and new friend William Dalrymple (see right down the bottom with his wife Olive, Vikram Seth and moi), my secret crush Colin Thubron (double my age and so lovely), the divine Pico Iyer and a new and impressive face Charles Nicholl who gave delicious travel readings. It could have gone on all day. I wanted to let it.

* Simon Schama. What a dynamo! He gave one session on Obama and American history and then another on Picasso. What a man, what a brain. Mine hurt.

* THE Tina Brown dishing the dirt on Princess Diana and Vanity Fair. Lascerating tongue. She admitted that Tarun T's mag Tehelka is her fave in the world.

* And soooooo much more. If you can make it to Jaipur next January, you really, seriously should. You can bet I'll be doing my utmost to be there.

I really couldn't believe the quality and quantity of authors, poets and I have hardly touched on the musicians yet, who were all singing for their supper at the Diggi Palace (what a setting) with such intensity and every single event was FREE. Plus everyone was thrown in together, there was no green room. The brilliant Teamwork Productions crew worked like demons to ensure that whether you were royalty, a school child or a guy off the street, you were made to feel welcome.

I must say that Sanjoy, Sheuli and Ila all lead by example and every single person who worked at the festival (too many to name but Avani who helped me out at Durbar Hall and is such a friend now, must be singled out) made it super special. The atmosphere was electric. Inspiring. Challenging and truly fascinating. It was an absolute honour.

I really have to go to bed now. I can't wait to see another sunrise.
Lxxxx

SHE'S ALIVE, SHE'S ALIVE

2009-01-31T16:13:00.006+05:30

I went down, down, down with a cold and exhaustation after the festival. I'm sorry for my silence but I gave every ounce of myself and then danced like a maniac at the closing night party, forgot to eat dinner, drank too much champers and got a chill. Typical!

At least it was in style at the City Palace where the theme was black & red. Yes, my fave combination. It was by far the classiest festival closing I've ever been to. And the French/Algerian dj was such fun, as were his various dancers who whirled around the perfect lawn with the turban-ed waiters attending our every need. Gosh it was gorgeous. And we were all so exhausted and elated, so we had a blast. Noone wanted to go home.

I can't wait to get the photos developed. There is still so much to tell you about the festival but I think I'll work backwards as I've got limited time.

I've just arrived at Varanasi. India's holiest city. Many proclaim it to be the oldest city in the world It runs a pigrimage line from and to Kanyakumari, where I spent the last full moon. It's where many people come to die or be re-born, there are burning bodies right on the Ganga. It's a staggering sight and experience, though they do camp it up for the tourists and follow you about mercilessly. It's a magical place.

After sleeping and snuffling the week away in Jaipur, missing my ride on an Enfield through Rajasthan to a Sufi festival and taking some time out at Krishna's wonderful guest house with all the colourful characters (more on them later, it's been like Days of Our Lives, seriously), I decided it was time to move yesterday.

It was hard to leave my new friends, but I had cabin fever. Just a quick word to the lovely lads in the photo. Adi is a brilliant Rajasthani musician and he introduced me to the wonderful Nichole and sorted out my guest house. Then came over for visits and played music for us, just as he's doing here while Rado (divine Slovenian who lives in Holland)is singing a folk song from home.

My god I nearly forgot to tell you about Nichole's and my lunch with the royalty of Jaipur. In short, I had left a bag at the closing night party and when I went back to pick it up, the Marketing Manager invited me and Nichole to come for lunch with the royal family. I dragged my cold ridden body out of bed and we got snazzied up and raced to the palace. We were greeted with flowers and musicians and given champagne. But no royalty appeared, turns out the Marketing Manager is a bit lonely after leaving London so he and his assistant hosted us for a delicious lunch. It was a slight let down, as we realsed we'd been lead up the garden path. But it was a beautiful, jewel laden path with a feast at the end. So we just giggled all the way home.

I tried to race to the railway station but only made it by midday. Everyone had said it was an overnight train leaving in the evening, so I didn't bother packing. Yup, the train was leaving at 3.30pm. I threw far too many things into my poor rucksack, ate lunch in record time (always know I'm better when I've got my appetite back) and made it onto the train having secured a nice sleeper. My first overnight train experience was pretty civilised, though I hardly slept a wink as it was lumpy as hell.

Pity the train terminated in Lucknow (capital of Uttar Pradesh) at 2.45am instead of going on to Varanasi as it was supposed to!! Most fortunately the lady sleeping below me, the gorgeous and wonderful Sushita, helped me and two London based nurses Liz (Brit) and Arik (Pole) get a car to take us on. We didn't fancy the shit fight of another train journey and the trip was entrancing, despite our tired eyes. I love watching India scratch its scrawny butt, yawn and then wake up with a groggy, colourful grin. People only really kick into gear at 10am.

Little did we know what was ahead of us in the car. For a few hours it was dark and easy going, except for the huge piles of stones that seemed to take up half the 'highway' and the massive trucks that kept coming head on. I was most glad not to be in the front and that I'd remembered to charge my iPod. Jeff Buckley continues to keep me company. I'll never tire of Grace.

We decided after a beautiful sunrise (blood red) and so many amazing sights (wild camels sauntering about in packs, monkeys abounding, groups of women wrapping themselves in vibrant colours, kids causing trouble) that we'd wait and have breakfast in Varanasi, as it was only 50km away. Ha! It took us many hours of circumnavigating the city to find our way to Liz and Arik's hotel. The relief. The view of the Ganges (Mother Ganga) that greeted us. It's beyond description. It made me realise why Rado had confided in me two nights ago, when I was trying to decide on one more stop in India before I head back to Bombay, "Dahhling, the Taj Mahal is beautiful but it's a dead monument and Agra is a pit, you can do it later, you haven't really done India until you've been to Varanasi."

For now I just want to let you know that I'm ok. There's so much I need to 'download' as my lovely new friend Nichole says. Unfortunately the hotel she recommended was full and I ended up being taken for a ride by a little boy (the touts here are uber professional) and ended up in some crappy overpriced place.

I've just had a shower, wandered along the Ganga, visited the fascinating Kedarnad temple (my forehead is covered in tika by Gita Tiwari) and found the perfect place. How am I going to get myself out of the hovel where I've just showered and strewn my clothes?!?!?

Wish me luck. More soon.
Lxxxxx

WARNING: BLISS OVERLOAD

2009-01-22T22:18:00.004+05:30

I've been trying to work out how to explain in words what's going on all around me.

You may have noticed that I'm having a rather overwhelming time in India. That I'm brimming over with platitudes and enthusiasm. Sorry about that but I can't help it. Tough.

Only continue reading if you're ready for more.

It's hard to portray the depth of feeling here at this festival. At this time. It feels rather like history is being made, but I may be going overboard.

It's only been two days but I feel like I've been taken to places that I only dreamt about. And there are three more days to be savoured. That magic number 3. It seems to figure constantly in my life. But I digress.

The Jaipur Literary Festival has become a home for the most incredible array of people. It's the most diverse mixture of intelligensia and vagabonds I've ever encountered. As I write this, an Israeli band is performing the most beautiful music on the front lawn of the Diggi Palace. A palace filled with love and peace is the mission.

A Pakistani musician called Junoon just jammed with a Rajasthani drummer and the crowd went wild. I was racing about trying to sort out delegate passes for some artists and decided it was time to sit down after an intense two days of running the main hall here. The Durbar Hall is my most welcome ball and chain.

I'm not sure how I was moved from blogger to hosting the main venue for the festival but I'm humbled and privileged by the task. It's intense to say the least. The place is heaving with the most incredible intellectuals and I'm introducing authors. I'm introducing Oscar nominees for god's sake!!!!

Gulzar is India's most famous and beloved poet (that's him in white). Yesterday I had to tell his audience that we were out of time and that we had to wrap up. Five, or was it 10 times. People were fighting to get inside the venue I'm running, with the incredible support of the diminutive Avani. We are such a team.

He has just received an Oscar nomination for the song that he wrote the words for Slumdog Millionaire. My favourite film of 2008. The film that swept the BIFAs and now the Golden Globes and now has 10 Oscar nominations. It's screening here tomorrow night. Tomorrow is going to be nuts.

Amitabh Bachchan is coming. If you can imagine the biggest star of the western celebrity infirmament, then times it by 100. Seriously. That's who's turning up tomorrow at our festival. He is a god here. He is India's biggest star and he's a god. He can cross every age and class barrier here in terms of adulation. That is quite a feat.

I am sitting with 3 people now who are working at the festival. We've just been debating how the adoration of Amitabh differs from ANY western celebrity. I don't think I can eloquently relay what was just shared with me, but believe me. Tomorrow we're going to see crowds and hysteria that are terrifying. [By the way, that's Avani on the left and Krytika on the right.]

At Gulzar's poetry reading, I saw a press photographer who was talking on his mobile, that I told to shut the fuck up (very nicely mind you) almost come to blows with a woman who was trying to help me shut him up. We had to lock the doors as people were rushing the doors and getting into fights.

This is the same Gulzar, who just wandered into the office I'm writing this from and used our loo. I apologised to him as he came out, for cutting his session off and said that even though I don't speak Hindi, I could feel the love from him and his audience and that I loved every minute. Can you believe he said to me, "I saw you and I could see that you were understanding every word"!?!? What a class act.

One more gushing story and I'll leave the rest for a post mortem as I'm working my way through a bottle of wine and haven't eaten and it's almost 11pm but I just had to share something with you.

My incredible friend and ex-boss, Martha Fiennes, introduced me to William Dalrymple and therefore it's because of her and various wonderful connections, (Constance is cousins with his wife Olive and they're friends of my cousins Charlie Burrell and his wife Issy who is Martha's great friend and a wonderful travel writer...), that I'm here.

Anyway, Martha also introduced me via email to Aradhana Seth who is Vikram's sister and a great friend of Willy's. They made documentaries for the BBC together and although Martha and her never met, she sent me her email. So Aradhana and I have been emailing since I left London, sporadically.

Tonight when Junoon went on stage, I tried to go and join my Bengali friends at their table but all the seats were taken. I asked about 5 or 6 people if the chairs next to them were free and they all said no until I asked a wizened, gorgeous old woman. She motitoned for me to take the chair next to her. I tried to pick it up, thinking I'd take it back to the Bengali table where my new friends Duniya, Mimlu and Paban were sitting with their friends, but the chair was stuck under hers. So I sat. As the music was divine and she had such a warm face.

Someone brought her a red wine. I was jealous. She leant across and told me that the man who had brought it was India's top heart doctor. I smiled and we swayed to the music. She apologised for having wine when I didn't. I was a little jealous, but what can you do?

I saw a waiter a few moments later and tried to catch him. I had to race half way across the lawn. The demand for seats was so intense by now, when I came back, she'd used her umbrella to save it for me. I sat back down and within a few minutes, her daugher arrived to check on her. As we were sitting so close together, due to the conjoined chairs, her daughter introduced herself. Aradhana Seth.

I had sat down next to Leila Seth. When Aradhana heard my name, she asked if I was the same Laura she'd been emailing with. Yes. That's me.

Leila pushed her son off the bestsellers list with her one and only book. Her autobiography. I promised to buy it tomorrow. I can't wait to read it.

On the live feed, Willy and Olive Dalrymple appeared. They were up the front of the concert clapping and singing. I pointed to them and said, "They are the reason I'm here. Do you know them?" Turns out that Willy D calls Aradhana his Mother Superior and has known the Seth's for 15 years. Here's me, having known them for less than a week, introducing them to Leila Seth.

What a world. What a world. I can't go on anymore. It's now 11.11pm and I have drunk half a bottle of wine (at least) and I should have some dinner. Forgive me. I will write again soon. But it might be after the festival finishes.

This place, this country, the people. It's all love. It's crazy, fucked up, heavenly, corrupt and insane. But it's pure. In a way that's hard to portray.

All I know is that I'm in heaven. And I'm so blessed to be able to share it with you. Now.
But now, I must eat.
More soon.
Lxxxxx

P.S. I'm too tired to edit this. Forgive any errors and over-the-topness.

FEST TIME AMIDST THE PINK CITY

2009-01-19T13:38:00.003+05:30

I awoke on Sat to the arrival from Paris of Duniya, daughter of the most fascinating Mimlu. We had a lovely breakfast where she filled me in on her family history. Mimlu is just finishing a book about her life and I can't wait to read it. Born to Tahitian/Indian/French parents, Mimlu has had a few husbands and many children and they all get along. Most Christmases are spent in either Paris or Calcutta all together. Her husband Paban is the most exquisite Bengali musician and they are all performing at the festival.

Duniya works in Paris for the film production company that produced La Vie En Rose (Edit Piaf's biopic) and they're soon to release the director's next film which stars Renee Zelwegger and Forest Whittaker. We had lots to talk about, as you can imagine, but she was exhausted from her flight. So, William and I accompanied Adam to his football game.

On arrival, we watched the end of another game where the parents were shouting and getting in the way. After giggling at them, Adam and his team took the pitch. William was instantly transformed, forgetting his half eaten blackberry (thanks to Albinia's jealousy, she had pecked out the A, E, W and S to his immense, but good natured frustration) he paced the side of the pitch shouting encouragement and instructions. I joined is as Adam chased down the ball fearlessly. It was such fun. And his team, the Royal Falcons beat the Red Devils 3-0.

Back at the farm, Paban and Mimlu had arrived and would you believe that when I told them about Emma's film in Calcutta, they remembered meeting both her and Cam. It turns out that Paban sings a song for the film and had been on set the one day that Cam visited over Christmas to lip sync his song. What a crazy, small, wonderful world it is.

Olive and her friend Claire arrived back from Jaipur full of stories about their week there. It was wonderful to finally meet Olive and everyone in the house was overjoyed to have her back. We ate a delicious meal, in between practice sessions where Paban played various instruments, as did Mimlu while Duniya sang with Paban. We all jangled bells and sang a bit and it was a gorgeous eve.

I was staying out in the Arabian tent as the house was full and woke up to the sound of thunder and lightening, which was rather surprising. A misty morning greeted me as I made plans to head to Jaipur, as William insisted I get involved. The ever patient Sanjoy put me in touch with his spitfire number 2, Sheuli and along with the lovely Shupta, the 3 of us ladies zoomed along the packed highways into Rajasthan.

Poor Sheuli's phone didn't stop, as she's the main point of contact for all talent and there are endless issues with visas and travel arrangements, but she handled them all with incredible efficiency and a warm manner. I tried not to gasp and jump as we avoided vehicles of every shape and size, silly me sitting in the front.

Sanjoy has asked me to blog for the festival site, which is such a welcome request. It means I can attend the readings and lectures and events and will be just like the old days when I used to work as a journalist covering film festivals. The only drawback is having to write everything up at the end of very long days, but it's all for a wonderful cause. I am absolutely delighted to be involved and Sheuli has sorted a laptop for me. So, I might not get a chance to blog on my site this week. Apparently my blogs/diaries will be on the festival site.

Driving into Jaipur last night was incredible. The city is divided into three sections, we drove through Old Jaipur first which was choking with people and animals and general mayhem. We passed the floating palace and some beautiful forts and buildings. Then we entered the gobsmacking Pink City. Everything is a dusky, rosey pink and the gates that signal your entry and exit are astounding. Then we zoomed into New Jaipur and I was dropped off at my guest house where the lovely Laxman greeted me warmly and I zonked out almost immediately.

This majestic capital city of Rajasthan has already captivated me. I had a few errands to do on the way to Diggi Palace (where the festival is being held) so I decided to walk. Walk?!?! It was hard to get rid of the rickshaws and people following me but I was resolute to find my own way. Finally I reached the palace, but it was the wrong one - City Palace instead. So I relented and jumped in a rick as I couldn't resist Kaif's charms. Indian really know how to joke with you and your frustrations just melt as they good naturedly try to charge you double the going rate!! Gosh it was fun battling the streets and getting to know the city a bit. I arrived to find Sheuli and Shupta melting in the hot sun and sitting on the front lawn where Vikram Seth will be in a few short days.

The Dalrymple clan arrive tomorrow and the madness will begin. If you're reading this and you happen to be in India, come to the festival. It's going to be so much fun.
Better scoot. More photos and things soon.
Lxxxx

DELIGHTS OF DELHI

2009-01-16T22:32:00.008+05:30

On arrival at Indira Ghandi airport, I was clutching a list of directions from my soon-to-be host. the wonderful writer William Dalrymple. After negotiating a driver who spoke some English, which took some doing, I ended up with 18 year old Mihesh. I was feeling rather pleased with myself as we zoomed along, thinking smugly that we might just get there without having to call fifteen times for help.

Oh no, no, no. Turns out despite my instructions, we had got on the wrong road and had almost zoomed to the next town past Mehrauli. Needless to say, a few phonecalls found us on the right road and then the pleasure of yet another argument with someone you thought was straight up trying to rip you off (they start young here!!) and I was finally at my destination.

William and Olive, (though I'm yet to meet the lady of the house as she's running an art and craft festival in Jaipur), have the most wonderful home which is set on a sizeable acreage and has a wide variety of animals. Albinia is the resident cocktatoo, [posing here with Sam] reminding me of home and most talented, she can say a very posh "Hello I'm Albinia" and loves spreading out her wings when sprayed with a fine mist of water. Gilbert and George are a crazy pair of goats. George has recently impregnated his mother to everyone's slight alarm.

Then there are the new puppies Chocolate and Fudge, named by the two Dalrymple boys who I probably should have mentioned before the pets!!! Sam and Adam are truly divine. They're bright, well spoken, enthusiastic, sassy and great company. We've been watching David Attenborough fossil programs and discussing all manner of things. Sam's rock collection is mighty impressive (aka 'his etchings'!!).

So apart from the dogs and peacocks and chickens (rooster named Stanley of course) and various other creatures, the house is teeming with incredible artifacts from various travels and the books. My god, the books. I've hardly had my nose out of one since I arrived. William has given me all sorts of advice about onward travels and has recommended some amazing places off the beaten track.

He's working like crazy on his literature festival, which starts on Wed (21st Feb) and has grown from 6 authors 4 years ago (I think) to 180 artists this year including musicians and filmmakers. Wow! Just in case you fancy a peek, check out the Jaipur Literature Festival site, for some reason I can't post the link but it comes up first in Google.

Amongst many missions and themes, the festival is promoting a dialogue with Pakistan, which is so healthy as there are a lot people here who simply want to boycott the whole country. Their relationship sits on a knife edge and William is determined to do his part at this tricky time. A lot of the Pakistani artists are coming on their own dime to show their commitment. I'm so excited that Vikram Seth will be there, and Shekhar Kapur and Thomas Keneally just confirmed. Yippee! And sooooo many more talented people. I can't wait.

So, I spent my first afternoon exploring the Mehrauli archaeological park, which is close by and filled with fascinating ruins and the famous Q'utb Minar, which I couldn't get into as I arrived in between tour times, so we drove through the bazaar which was full of life. I ended up in a mosque listening to the call to prayer that so dominates life in the east.

I've now had two full days of touring Delhi, leaving each time with a list of William's recommendations and being driven around by his fave taxi driver Kapoor, who is wonderful and most importantly knows his way back to the farm. It's hard to convey the breadth and depth of this city if you haven't been here. The architecture is astounding, the museums are brimming over, the streets are ancient, the bazaars are electric and the general mayhem is completely addictive.

If I went through everything I've seen, I'd never finish this post and it's getting late. So, a taste of my favourites has to include the astounding spectacle of driving past the government buildings, the architecture is glorious, simply stunning - the Brits got that right! The Indira Ghandi memorial was very moving and I'm so glad I insisted on going to the Triveni tea terrace for lunch. I ended up sitting with a charming guy called Piyush who edits the Hindi journal for the top notch, fine art Lalit Kala Academy. It turns out he was asked to present at William's festival but couldn't, as he's just started his prestigious job but he knows half of the people presenting and marked up my schedule for me, plus he insisted on buying me lunch! So generous and such a welcome coincidence in a lovely setting by the sculpture garden. Thank you Piyush for the recommendation to visit the arts and crafts museum. The textiles blew my mind.

I have to mention Humayun's tomb as it was spectacular but the white breasted kingfisher I saw at the Lodi Gardens at sunset (plus the sounds of all the birds there) with it's bright blue feathers had to be the highlight of the day. Oh no, that's only my first day. Sorry.

Today was spent putting up posters and getting photos sorted first at Khan Market. Then I went to the Red Fort, which was much better than I expected as the Brits obliterated in in the siege, so my expectations were low. However William gave me a brilliant book that took me on a walk and described how it used to look, providing me current references that helped my imagination to run free. I put in my headphones and listened to Lamb and just wandered, ignoring everyone who looked my way. Bliss. Funny how quickly you learn to be a Madam here. Or perhaps I've always been one?!? Don't answer that.

The Jamal Masjid mosque was awe inspiring but very busy, plus it was well into mid arvo and I was starving. So I drank it in and then went on and found the famous Kamil's where I had a massive and delicious lunch. I then wandered for hours around the Chandi Chowk bazaar and can see why its sights and smells inspire people so. I finally decided it was time to leave and got into huge negotiations with a bicycle rickshaw and about 10 passersby. When he quoted me 50 rupees and I replied, "So that means I should be paying 25" they all laughed heartily. Thank you to the young boys who shouted, "Don't pay more than 15 or 20".

However after the driver braved crazy traffic and talked to a concerned Kapoor who was wondering where I was, plus seeing the holes in his clothes and how skinny the poor guy was I gave him 25 for the trip. That's about 30 pence by the way.

So here I am back at Chez Dalrymple sitting in front of a roaring fire and feeling absolutely shattered. It's such a happy sort of tired, though I feel slightly sick at what I spent on the most Kashmiri shawl I've ever seen and my belly is still full from my afternoon meal at Kamil's. I must admit that overall I feel happier than I have in a long, long time. Travelling nourishes the soul like nothing else for me. I'm the luckiest person alive, that is for shizzle!

So, the house gets filled with musicians and their families tomorrow and I am sleeping in the tent. Delhi is quite cold, unlike Bombay's winter you really go need to rug up here, so I hope I don't freeze out there with the goats and chickens. I was only supposed to stay one night but somehow time is marching on and I'm being made to feel so welcome and at home. There's a fun party brewing for tomorrow eve and I'm excited to head to the Taj Mahal (William says it's one of the few places in the world that lives up the hype) and then onwards to Jaipur for the start of the festival on Wed.

I have just over 3 weeks to go and promise to keep you posted as much as possible.

Promise!

Lxxx

DARK SIDE OF PARADISE

2009-01-13T18:46:00.008+05:30

I kind of glossed over the new year madness of Varkala, but since finding out that 12 women were attacked that night, I think I need to expand a bit. Also, a foreign girl was badly attacked just before I left, a guy grabbed her walking along the cliff alone and late at night. He bit a chunk of her cheek off and tried to rape her, luckily she escaped, but the police told her it was not worth registering a complaint!!!! Fuck that. For a joke.

It's easy to forget that you're in India, especially for foreigners who just fly straight into the warm arms of Varkala, which is tourist heaven. New Years Eve was disgusting, well isn't it in most countries, but there were SO many drunk Indian men at least 2 or 3 deep lined up on the cliff when Kate and I were bumbling about. As the night wore on they got more and more brazen and were trying to shake your hand, grab you, just get their hands on you. Nasty.

We did have fun on the beach watching the fireworks, which were amazing but pretty dangerous at times. They were going in every direction you can imagine. I just wish I'd been able to find Cat's house again as she had a rocking house party, but I kept getting lost and Kate lost her rag and insisted we head back to The Grove.

Cat is an English girl who gives the incredible Bengali massages. She has lived 3 seasons in Varkala and has a magical touch. I told anyone who'd listen about her. She missed my birthday and I missed NYE at hers, but she managed to join us at The Grove for my last night in town. Mote and the others cooked up yet another INCREDIBLE meal for Shabbat (Jewish Sabbath).

We had the most gorgeous evening and after all the talk of attacks, we walked her home. I did my typical power walking up the hill and suddenly Cat says "What are we doing, this is India, why are we walking so fast?!". I know it's good for me to be constantly told to slow down, but it's just in my nature sometimes to race along. Shanti, shanti.

How can I sum up my final few days in Coconut Grove - blissful swims, sunshine, chats, drinks, meals, walks, shopping, music and general gorgeousness.

It was hard to leave, but Tomer decided to join me for the full moon weekend at the southernmost tip of India. We caught a train to Kanyakumari after a lazy day of packing and swimming and goodbyes.

Kanyakumari is an incredible place. It's where the Bay of Bengal meets the Indian and Arabian oceans. In April you can see the sun set and rise in the same sky! It was badly affected by the tsunami but has bounced back, though it's not a beautiful town I really enjoyed a short visit.

It was teeming with people for full moon and we arrived just as the sun was setting. The hotel gave us 3 choices of rooms, but when we went to the corner room on the top floor and saw the view, there was no competition. The sun was setting right out of one set of windows and two small rock islands housing the Vivekananda Memorial and a 40ft statue of the Tamil saint Thiruvalluvar greeted us. It was an awesome sight.

The atmosphere on the street was so, so different - real India again. The gangs of Ayappa cult members in their black pilgrim outfits were slightly menacing but we found some great food and just drank in the atmosphere. Sunrise on the day of the full moon was my favourite. It was breathtaking. The ferry ride around the islands was fun but it was so hot we didn't last long. I found some great little stores though and bought many crazy little trinkets. Heaven.

To get my flight from Cochin we had to get the very, very early train. I made it to the airport with good time and it was mega bijoux with 2 gates and comfy chairs. I felt pretty dodgy after eating idli on the train and generally over indulging, but now that I'm back in Bombay I feel a million bucks.

Sriraj, Cam and Emma's driver, was there to greet me and the three of us had a great meal at the house before crashing early.

Ems and I have just had a great day zooming about the city. I treated myself to a body scrub to get all the sunscreen and sand off and am now packing for Delhi. I leave first thing tomorrow and can't wait to explore the north. Just under a month to go!!!

I've had my Kerala photos developed (haven't developed photos in an age exciting!!) so I'm going to try and upload them now.

Emma has just walked in and has bought herself a crazy little red beanie. She and Cam are so excited to be going skiing in France in Feb. She has just presented me with a bottle of Moet & Chandon champers from my gorgeous little bro for Xmas/Bday etc. Thank you Hame. I also came back to a package from Mum and Mellie.

I'm being spoilt rotten. And I LOVE it!
More soon.
Lxxx

VENTURING OUT OF THE GROVE

2009-01-06T10:12:00.006+05:30

After a few lazy days of swimming, yoga, reading, writing, swimming etc. we decided a day trip to visit the Golden Temple would be a good idea.

It took a whole day not to rent motorbikes, so we gave in and stayed in for yet another meal cooked by the incredibly talented Mote. He and his American wife Katherine are a lovely pair. The food he prepares is so gentle in flavours and absolutely delicious.

Ben and I have had some great walks and adventures. When he laughs he looks like a 5 year old and it's nice to have some Aussie humour amongst the crew. The guys are great fun, but they do break into long discussions in Hebrew. I have taken to wandering off into the hammock with great regularity and just reading and swinging and listening to music.

So after many phone calls by the ever-patient Rene, a guy showed up with the bikes. Matan has hardly ventured further from the roof than the beach, but he and Yanai decided to join Ben, Tomer, Ran and I on our mission. He positioned his significant size on the tiny scooter and Yanai jumped on behind. Tomer had found his legs and was confident to bring Ran on the back of the other scooter, while I held tight to Ben on a bigger bike and we all took off grinning and whooping.

We made it about 500 metres down the road when Matan and Yanai's bike just conked out. So we had to call the guy and get him to come and fix it. While the others went into town to get extra petrol, we sat in a cafe drinking chai and playing shithead.

After yet more waiting, we ended up just grabbing a quick thali in Varkala with Rene and Yan while the boys waited to get another bike. The roar of a loud engine and two very happy faces greeted us when we went outside. Matan had negotiated an Enfield for the day. Rene went back with Yan while we all really took off on our mission (it's probably around 2pm by now). It was such fun hooning along the bumpy roads, as we left Varkala behind we zoomed through little towns that were so quiet and lovely, probably what Varkala used to be before the tourists came. Young kids and old alike wave like mad at us as we pootled along.

After asking various people for directions, Ben and I stopped to take a quick look at the ocean and a few photos. We waved the others on and soon jumped back on the bike to catch up with them. As we neared the next village a gang of young boys were gesticulating wildly at us, we thought they were waving but as we rounded the bend we found Matan slumped on the side of the road and Yanai hopping about him, while ladies and kids stood by trying to help.

The bumper had hit the speed hump and sent them both flying off the Enfield. If Matan hadn't hurt himself, I would have laughed out loud as it was just such a comical scene. It was like walking onto a film set with everyone (mostly women and kids until the word got out) gathered around to point, giggle and help a bit.

Matan was in a bit of shock and it took most of the village to haul him around the corner into the shade. I sat down with him and poured water over his head and calmed him down, it turned out that they were both incredibly lucky. Yanai bounced off without a scratch, Matan hurt his shoulder a bit and scraped his knee and luckily the bike wasn't too badly damaged. Not ideal though.

After much pouring ("I was like a little flower that you were watering" he said later) and prodding from the women, (we were surrounded by a semi circle of about 50 women and children by now), we rang Rene and the boys found a rickshaw. With more waving, they went off to the hospital and he is absolutely fine. Ran and Yanai insisted on both going with him, so Ben, Tomer and I went on. We ended up at a dead end by the ocean, sitting on a pontoon of cement jumping jacks looking at the most beautiful endless beach you can imagine.

We decided to just hang out on the beach a bit further down. But in the very same village, Ben's bike decided to die. He had mentioned that the fuel gauge had gone right down, so I did suggest it could just need fuel, but he insisted he could hear it in there and that it was something else. So, we called Rene again and the motorbike guy came. Guess what, he filled it with fuel and it magically worked. However, it took at least another hour for all that to happen.

So, with some of my new lady friends and their children, I went down the beach where I spent the happiest hour of this trip. All the kids and I played games with the ocean, they did Katthakali dancing for me and taught me some Malayaalam. We laughed and I fell for a gorgeous little girl called Angel (of course). She had the most amazing smile and I gave her my earrings which she loved. I can't wait to develop all the photos.

We finally collapsed on a beach in time for a quick swim and sunset. It was a completely chaotic day, but we had such fun. On arrival back at The Grove we found Matan had decided it was his favourite day of all since he'd been in India (I think he got about half an hour on the bike by the way) and saying that he didn't want to buy a rickshaw anymore, but an Enfield.

It's all a bit like being in a very strange Woody Allen film crossed with Fellini.

So, I better get back to the ranch as Tomer and I are going to take the bike out and about and maybe find the Golden Temple after all. I did yoga this morning and did my first head stand in about 5 years!!

Sending you much love.
Lxxxx

HOW'S THE SERENITY?

2009-01-02T17:30:00.006+05:30

It's been hard to tear myself away from the Grove gang. We're a blissful little community amongst the palms. You go to sleep with the waves and wake up to the mosque before falling back asleep to the waves again.

Heaven.

My birthday was lovely. We cooked up a storm and then built a bonfire. It was super chilled and mighty fine. New Years was a zoo, all the local men were on the prowl and it wasn't pretty. But watching the crazy cowboy fireworks from the beach was great fun.

The day was gorgeous, spent by the sandy shores of the north cliff beaches. Watching the fishermen at work, launching boats and working in ways that haven't changed for centuries. Sunset at my home away from home Little Tibet with a mixed fruit juice and noodles.

An elephant appeared overnight by our traveller's lodge, a bit unnerving in the dark but so magnificent. Dolphins were sighted yesterday and we're planning to visit an island by boat tomorrow.

The Israeli guys have done a big shop and are cooking a feast tonight. An Aussie friend from London, Ben Scoff, has shown up sick as a dog. He spent new year's eve on his bathroom floor but is bouncing back nicely. We've been beach hopping and swimming all day and just took a back route into town and found ourselves at the door of a nice house.

The ladies and kids welcomed us inside and made me tea. Ben ended up playing ball with the kids while I was smiled at and warmly stroked by the women. When they heard I was not married to Ben, one of them called her husband to come running. He did, 2 kms and arrived huffing and puffing. Ben and I couldn't help but laugh and enjoy the warmth. They wanted nothing from us, were just most curious.

I have fallen for the most divine little puppy and we had a love-in on the hammock today for 45mins of pure snuggles. Very good for the soul. In fact, I'd recommend the Coconut Grove tonic to any traveller, as it's basic (though they're planning a big renovation and the price will be triple next year!!) as you can find your own meditative space amidst the business all around. The pace of life is easy and pure. I truly love it here and am in no hurry to move. I keep meeting incredible people and feel welcomed. It is touristy, but there is an abundance of good will and mellow vibes.

The ocean is soothing every ounce of me. Must go watch the sunset now.
More soon. Promise.
Lxxxx

TODDY & LOBBOS - THE PERFECT COMBO

2008-12-29T17:02:00.007+05:30

I got a call from Alex today. I had my first dose of bloggers remorse as in my haste yesterday, I forgot to tell you about our Boxing Day. Plus I spelt a name wrong!!

Alex and I hung out at Molly's shop, which is under construction after 4 year arduous battle with tenants, but is filled with some real gems and she gave me parting gifts - in particular a lovely sandalwood strand to balance the heat. I love it.

Onwards to a fantastic restaurant where we feasted on so many delicacies. I've left my notebook back at my room so can't write the details now, but the pearl fish was really special. The lobsters just right. Then on to a house boat on the beautiful lake, we circumnavigated a lush island while I kicked my legs in the water. It was the most relaxing afternoon, which soon gave way to a dusky eve.

We wandered along the road until Alex saw the sign. Ah, the famous toddy shack! The locals make a coconut hooch that is best drunk whilst still sweet and only just brewed. It's taken from the fruit at the very top of the coconut tree and it was delicious.

I said I wanted to drink with the locals, but the waiter pointed us into a separate tourist shack where we ended up munching more lobster (seriously deliciously spicy and crunchy) and drinking toddy. The power cut could do nothing to dampen the spirits.

We then jumped on bus to town and raced back at breakneck speed, flying over the bumps. Such fun.

Yesterday I was lucky enough to finish my book and swap it immediately for my new favourite author's towering achievement - the novel A Suitable Boy. I remember Dooda loving it so when she read it, as did Mum. Their mutual love of India is definitely part of the reason I'm here - their photos and stories were always so colourful.

I managed to leave the book at Ram's store when I was buying a rainbow skirt (yes, yes I know, another one) and I was so relieved to be reunited with it today. I can't wait to really dive in and immerse myself in it's inviting pages. It's by the far the biggest tome I've ever had to haul around with me.

On my way to meet Kat yesterday, a palm reader called Sakar, who only seemed to have one tooth, mesmerised me and told me the most wonderful things. Apparently my planet is Mercury, though he mentioned Jupiter a lot. I'm going to have one marriage to a family man, live a healthy life until 85 or 87. Most of what he told me sounded bloody great, as I was swooning in the afternoon sun.

The Indians study astrology intensely. Although I'm Capricorn, my moon is Cancer and apparently it's more important than my sun sign.

Hearing the sound of the waves every day makes me resolute that I never want to live away from the ocean again. It's just too calming and soothing and divine for words. I need to get back to the Israeli's hammock. There are a bunch of guys living on the roof at Coconut Grove and they're a motley crew. Very toasty and friendly.

6 more hours until my day of birth. I am so honoured to be celebrating it here in Varkala.
I hope you have a magnificent new years eve.
See you in 2009.
Megaluv,
Lxxxx

THE COCONUT GROVES OF VARKALA

2008-12-28T16:29:00.004+05:30

After the girls on Christmas day told me that Varkala was not to be missed, I jumped on a very early and seriously bumpy ride from Kottayam. Thank you ladies. You were so right.

It's hot, hot, hot here and sea is warm, warm warm. I'm truly in coconut beach heaven. And I've bumped into various faces from elsewhere in Kerala. After checking in to the only room I could find over the phone on the North Cliff near the main beach of Varkala, I decided to treat myself to yet another Ayurvedic massage, this time I thought I'd go for my third oil on the head massage and I can't remember how to spell it - something like Sira Dhara. I just tried to ask the guys at the Joshi's internet cafe and they thought I wanted another one. But i think I've had my fill.

The two Ayurvedic ladies kept spilling the oil into my eyes and giggling, it happened at least 3 times. It's so odd being oiled up like a sardine. It was so hot too. Oh well. At least my skin feels like a baby's bum!!

And the sea. Ahhhhh. I had my first swim since I got to India yesterday. I don't think much could beat the feeling of immersing myself in the ocean yesterday. Today I've hardly been out of it. Though I did do a big wander along the cliff looking for cheaper accommodation this morning after my first yoga class. I think I've found the perfect place to do exactly what Jez said to me on the phone the other day, I can relax here and let my guard down. It's filled with chilled out travellers and beach folk, fishermen, palm thatched huts, an abundance of every sort of fish and food you can imagine, plus a load of shops selling the most delectable delights.

I am so glad I ran into Barbara and Horst again today. They were in the little Tibetan restaurant in the clouds (bless you Sanjiv) place where I ate everthing I consumed yesterday. They told me that they'd found a place further along for 250 rupees. I'm paying 1000 so after the blaring music and the loud generator that were my soundtrack last night, I set off this morn determined to find better. Plus, Sean the Melbourne artist told me that he's found a room for 500. We shared a lovely dinner last night before Matt from Newcastle, who I met on the ferry from Cochin to Eranakulum, waltzed in with some mates.

After hiking all along the cliff top this fine sunny morn, I could find absolutely nowhere with a free room - this place is bloody popular for new years and it's getting close. So, I sat down at a makeshift shop where the sweet Sahim ran off to find me a chilled mango juice. Then Horst just appeared out of nowhere and orders a coke, he says they're leaving tomorrow and do I want their room? Bliss.

So we swam some more and then they took me back to check out the place. Rene and his guests were all eating at an outdoor table and welcomed me to it. We ate delicious, simple fare and I met the local cast of characters (more on them soon). It's basic there but set back from the beach and away from the restaurants and bars and I think perfect for me. So, I'm moving in tomoz and can't wait.

Now it's time to set off to the Juice Shack where a British girl called Kat is waiting to take me to her place and give me a Bengali Massage. My new friends who run the Tibetan place have recommended her and I need to banish the memory of the giggling oilscapade yesterday.

More when I can tear myself away from the sandy shores of Coconut Grove.

THE SPICE OF LIFE

2008-12-26T10:51:00.008+05:30

As I wandered through the dawn (this time on foot with backpack attached) towards the ferry station, my heart was heavy to leave the sanctuary of Keraleeyam and all the lovely people there.

When I asked my rick driver, "How much?" and he replied, "Well, it's Christmas..." my cynical side expected him to say the price would be double. Instead he said, "...so pay me whatever you like"!!! I love that this country subverts all your assumptions just when you least expect it.

After more chai and dosa at a bakery opposite the ferry dock, care of a sweet Italian called Daniel, we headed out across the backwaters to Kottayam. I sat up the back amidst a gaggle of giggling ladies who were very sweet. When a big group of young men insisted on filming and pointing and staring and doing 'the usual' they got quite protective. I loved it when a gorgeous purple sari-ed mother and her divine little daughter sat down next to me.

On arrival in Kottayam I sourced a Chrissie cake (should have gone with the chocolate one dammit as 7 year-old Anouska didn't like the rum one I chose) and checked into my hotel. I then wandered the rather empty streets looking for wrapping paper and flowers. After finally sourcing the first, I entered the haven of a sweet smelling flower shop. I must have looked very hot as a man motioned for me to sit down and said "Wait 5 mins" as he walked out. I thought he was going to get the owner who spoke English, so I just sat there and sat there and watched them all working, trying not to get in the way. Finally after about 15 minutes, I went up to a guy and said, "Can someone help me or should I keep waiting?" to which he looked rather surprised and responded, "Wait for what? Just take!". When I said, "Oh, that man told me to wait" he said, "He's my neighbour, nothing to do with this shop". I love that I'd just been sitting there and noone had minded to tell me to move or asked me what the hell I thought I was doing.

So, after getting a bunch of flowers, which involved everyone in the shop and the customers helping, I made it back to my hotel room in time to wrap gifts and ready myself. Alex arrived as I chatted to Hame on the Murray River where he's camping with Sof and their dogs, so I rang off and we went to a bottle-o that I'd been inside not 5 minutes before buying Goan port.

On arrival at Alex's mother's (Molly) place, I was greeted warmly and found there a lovely Irish woman called Deirdre and her English friend Marie-Therese. They both live in Dublin and had met Molly in her antiques shop the day before. Alex's daughter Anouska completed the party and we all sat down to a huge pile of prawns, chicken, fish, vegetables and so much more. I mixed a bunch of vodka/mango/soda/fresh lime combos and we had a lovely lunch. Molly's sister then arrived, Elizabeth, who is battling a brain tumour but was full of positive energy. She told us incredible stories about being fired from JP Morgan because she refused to approve a huge write-off linked to a dodgy bank in Bavaria where a load of bad debt from Enron had been stored. Then I heard the story of Sandy Weill and his protoge Jamie Dimon and it sounds like a film story to be made there.

As the day wore on, I broke out my playing cards and we played a bastardised version of Old Maid and then I ended up having huge a Snap Championship with Anouska. She beat me and with delight kept saying "I'm not going easy on you this time!!". Was such fun.

As the doorbell went and more family arrived, us foreigners took off up the street and went back to our hotels. I had just had a shower when Alex rang and said that he and his friend Skariah were coming to take us to a club. We drove through the night as Skariah told us all about his family and the region, and we ended up on the edge of Vembanad Lake at the Kottayam Annexe Club. This was my first dose of Indian club life and we sat under a canopy being served illegal liquor and green lobster (very rare, but green due to the algae they eat with makes them pure with no cholesterol) in the most beautifully kept surroundings. Apparently the area, Kumarakom, is third of the list of must see places in the world by National Geographic and there are a host of exclusive resorts. It was a blissful end to Chrissie day and we drove home slowly through the dead quiet streets blaring The Eagles.

Now I must decide where I'm travelling on to tomorrow and get on with my day. I managed to drop my camera at Keraleeyam but Deidre is a professional photographer and has promised to send me Chrissie photos and today I bought a crap little thing to see me through to Trivandrum where I'll get mine fixed. Sorry, that's rather boring but funny how small little things become huge when you're travelling and I want to share all these wonderful sights with you.

I have to thank Alex, his family and Skariah for taking such amazing care of me here. We had such fascinating conversations and I am constantly humbled by the depth of knowledge about the world that I keep finding in almost everyone I meet here. Alex said that the awful attacks in Mumbai really brought home to so many Indians that they are Hindustani before anything else, everyone celebrates all religious holidays here - the culture is all embracing.

Clearly there are all sorts of problems in India, but there is so much to be inspired by. The literacy rates in Kerala are above 80% and the natural resources are abounding = not only rice, fish and coconuts but nutmeg, pepper, tumeric, cardamom, tea, coffee, not to mention rubber. In fact, I found out that Christopher Columbus discovered America by mistake when he was in fact looking for black pepper in Kerala!! This truly is, as so many signs seem to say here, God's Own Country.

No idea where I'll be writing to you next but hope you had a very merry Chrissie and that you've got lovely new year plans.
Peace, love and all things nicely spicy,
Lxxxxx

DIVINE DAWNING IN KERALA

2008-12-24T15:47:00.003+05:30

I've well and truly made it to paradise.

My departure from Mysore, back to Bangalore, consisted of a rustbuckety train journey that was only a few hours long and most enjoyable. The languid pace soon turned the buzzy atmosphere into a soporific one as some divine food god kept handing me things I wanted - water check, biscuits check, mango juice check....only thing missing was a massala chai.

On arrival I jumped in a rickshaw and Sampat met me near his place for the bus ticket exchange and a few hours of catch up. We went to drink, you guessed it, massala chai at a place called Infinitea. I couldn't help think of Choi Time and Mellie as I looked at the amazing menu that included flower teas and various other delights. Within half an hour or so, after telling my new friend that I was planning to go to Kottayam for Christmas, Sampat had phoned a friend of his called Alex who then joined us for a delicious Indian dinner and accompanied me to the bus stop. I am to spend tomorrow, can't believe it's Chrissie day tomorrow, with Alex's family who live in Kottayam and sound wonderful. Lucky me!

So the overnight bus journey could have been far worse, I had a sweet old Indian lady called Cecilly next to me. All was going well until I had a long battle with my foot rest, which I couldn't get to stay up. She looked at my warily, then slowly reached down and pulled her handbag into her lap. I tried to explain that I was just fighting with the foot rest, but her English didn't go that far and I clearly have a dodgy air about me!!

On arrival in Ernakulum (closest city to Cochin), my host Harry John of Sritara Homestay was not there to greet me as planned, unfortunately his driver had called in sick. I bumped my way to Fort Cochin in a rick and the breakfast of idli that greeted me made everything ok. Amazingly, a British girl called Sarah sat opposite me and before her cab came to whisk her away we worked out that she knows my neighbour Jodie Reed back in London as they both work in similar areas of government!! Harry was most welcoming and my/Sarah's ex room was just fine. Although a lot of people told me that Cochin was great and the people I met at Sritara and beyond seemed to think it wonderful, I can't say I took to it. I'm sure if you were to stay a few days one would undoubtedly find some gorgeous nooks and crannies, but perhaps I was just suffering from spoilt brattedness, having been hosted everywhere until that moment. Plus I could see the backwaters and coconut palms calling me in my minds eye.

I wandered into town, as I knew if I collapsed in a heap I'd never get up, and took a look at the old Chinese fishermans' nets that are ancient and bizarrely wonderful, still bringing in the local catch every day. I found the town overrun with pale, pasty tourists (natch!) and the locals hardly smiled but I pushed on into Jew Town having found an Ayurvedic centre on the way. The streets were crammed with shops filled with every variety of rice you could imagine, plus a host of chillies and very dusty antiques - it felt like I'd stepped right back in time. It was steaming hot, so I sat with a bunch of men on the side of the road and they looked at me with some suspicion.

To get some space and air, I jumped on a ferry back to Ernakulum to try and get the right power cord for my camera. I was the only whitey on board (3 rupees cost = less than half one pence) until at the last minute a skinny little Aussie dude called Matt jumped on and proceeded to tell me about how he'd bought a bike in Goa and cycled down. He'd had a wonderful trip and loved Kerala with all his blessed little heart. I helped him sort out a new watch strap and he pointed me to MG Rd, (Mahatma Ghandi Rd - they love an acronym here), where I spent a very hot and disappointing hour running around in circles.

By the time I made it back to Cochin, I was seriously ready for my treatment and then wandered as dusk beckoned to Parade Ground where a divine little man called Alimin (sp?) challenged me to a game of badmington with a very old shuttlecock. When he snapped a string on his racket, I took him off to the local shop to buy him a new set which pleased him greatly. His mother invited me in for tea and bananas and some other delicious fruit (bright pink and rather melon-y but small with a green skin). They told me about losing their house in the Tsunami and having to move to Fort Cochin. Although they were Muslim, they were making Christmas decorations and we took a few photos. Alimin saw me safely home and I flopped into bed for a monster sleep, pity the dog next door felt the need to bark all night but hey, ho on we go.

It was with some relief that I mounted the bus for Allepey, but I was sad to say goodbye to Harry and his wife who makes the best coconut-cashew-banana-raisin-cardamon pancakes. A British backpacker who lives in Istanbul and I squeezed our way into the seats by the front and I saw my first elephant as we zoomed down the highway. It was butt clenching stuff but we chatted most of the way, while the lady next to Sarah kept prodding her white skin in disbelief.

Like any journey, there are always going to be places that excite you less than others but they make the next place that much more amazing. When my rick dropped me off by a bridge with a sign to walk a path and hang a right by the lake, I knew I'd made the right decision to move on. Keraleeyam Resort sits right on the Punnamada canal and it is an Ayurvedic Treatment Centre where you can learn the treatments as well as get given them. I immediately ordered a delicious lunch of local fish curry and flopped from the massage table onto the hammock by my room, which is party of a big cottage. The path along the river/lake is covered with coconut palms where the only drawback from being right on the edge is the amount of boats that go past at an alarming rate. You soon get used to the rhythm however and it's a small price to pay.

After washing the oil and dirt off, I took off in the dusk to check out Allepey town. I almost collapsed in my room when I went back for my torch, but made a deal with myself that I wouldn't move from Keraleeyam the next day if I went for an explore that night. A rick dropped me off in the midst of a sea of people and I immediately got caught up in the flood of families and young bucks with their slick 70s hair dos and Harry high pants. This took me inside a mini Luna Park where rickety old rides were filled with squealing, happy kids and the noises coming from the various attractions was indescribably loud. On sighting a eunuch and the sign for a snake woman, I paid to stare at one of the most bizarre things ever. A 'bodyless' woman with a microphone in front of her was saying each person's name while her plastic 'snake' body wiggled. Everyone seemed to be loving it. I decided against the dog show and motorcycle extravaganza as it was too much fun just wandering about. As the only whitey I was a bit of an attraction and shared many smiles and waves with plump, happy little critters.

There is a Hindu celebration going on here as well as Christmas celebrations so the streets were utterly rammed and I just wandered around until I fancied some dinner. I had heard that the beach would be a little disappointing but the dinner was ok and there were lots of kids making happy noises on the waterfront, a bit like Portsea this time of year though probably more refined as they were dancing and singing in big groups and there was no booze to be seen, though I'm sure it was there.

After meeting various neighbours on my way back to my room last night, I encountered Don the San Franciscan at 6.30am this morning as I was making my way to my dawn canoe ride. I invited him along and we took turns to help Viji paddle as the birds awoke, the locals washed themselves and the velvetty red sun decided to come up. It was pure bliss. We had over an hour before any other boats (apart from some canoes) joined us. Plus, being eco-friendly and small, we were able to go up some narrow little canals where it felt like there was noone else in the world but us, until we passed yet another woman washing her pots or a guy cleaning his teeth. You're never far from another human being here.

After a delicious local breakfast, I took myself back to my room and tried to just drift from my book to sleep to book to sleep. However the resort and my Spanish neighbours (Carmen and David are doing the Ayurvedic course here) got concerned that I was depressed and kept knocking on my door and asking how I was and if I wanted lunch. How does one explain that you've never been so relaxed and all you want is to be left alone for a few hours? After nearly devouring the final section of Vikram Seth's incredible Two Lives, I gave in and joined for lunch. My golly gosh, I am going to need to go to an ashram soon just to monitor my food intake. Every meal seems to get better than the last!!

Anyway, that's more than enough from me. I'm off to catch the ferry to Kottayam (2 hours of divine scenery I hear) early tomorrow and I'll be there for 2 days. I'm very tempted to meet up with a lovely bunch of Brits in Varkala over new year, but I think the Sivananda ashram in Trivandrum is calling. I'll keep you closely posted. For now, the final few chapters of my book and the hammock are calling.

Have a very merry Chrissie everyone.
Coconut flavoured love to you all.
Lxxxx

TEMPLES AND GODS AND SHRINES, OH MY

2008-12-20T19:56:00.004+05:30

This diversion to Mysore is working out a treat. Blue and Chip are great guys and I've fallen for Blue's Jack Russell bitser, called Cara. She's only 7 months old but extremely smart and chatty and full of love. He rescued her off the street after losing his most beloved bulldog, after complications from a minor op. It's a story I keep hearing, that dogs just get sick and seem to die young and without a proper explanation as to why. There are so many variables of diseases and disasters. As Blue reminds me, "It's a third world country mate."

We had such a relaxing day after we arrived, except for the bus station malarkey where yet again I was thwarted whilst trying to buy a ticket for Cochin. It seems the whole of India is going there, so after 4 straight days of trying to book one lousy ticket, I called Sampat in Bangalore and asked him if he could possibly pick me up the Bangalore ticket I had on hold just in case. We're meeting up tomorrow arvo for a meal and ticket exchange. I wish I had a traveller's angel medal to give him too!

We were all pretty zonked last night after Surupa's party and getting up so early to travel back, so Blue puts on this Aussie series that he'd been telling me about. What an hilarious experience watching Underbelly in Mysore. We watched the pilot and I thought it was brilliant. The guys have just gone off to get food for dinner and we're going to watch another ep or two tonight. What a trip!! I told them about the legendary film Kenny and they'd never heard of it. I just happen to have brought it with me as I've become such a fan, (yes Mum, Hame, Dad you were all right, he's a bloody champion), so I'm going to give it to them as my leaving gift.

Temple time finally arrived today. I never thought I'd find anywhere to rival the Lost City of Angkor for more temples in one day, but today comes close as we visited a whole village just full of them. It's called Srirangapatna and was an amazing experience, but as usual I'm skipping ahead. So, not to be too forward about going backwards, I must say my very first experience of the day wasn't the best. We went on a lovely early morning drive to the idyllic Chamundi hills where although the temple was lovely and the bull statue very cool, I felt harassed, out of place, taken for a ride, ridiculed and left with my forehead covered in a variety of colours.

As I finally clambered into the car after a bunch of schoolgirls laughed heartily at me and then took photos as though I was an alien, (my motto to just smile wearing thin already), I almost wanted to can the whole day and head home. Thankfully my driver spoke no English except "Coming" and "Very nice" so that wouldn't have been possible anyway. The whole day was organised by Chip and Blue's Dad who is one of the finest Indian gentleman I've met. He adores temples and has given me piles of books to research Tamil Nadu and he set up the whole day, so I couldn't disappoint him.

When we reached Somanathpur, Mr Mariyappa (my trusty driver) instructed me to leave my flip flops/thongs/chappels (sp?) in the car and this time he accompanied me to one of the most intricate and gorgeous temples I've ever, ever seen. It reminded me a bit of Angkor as it was a series of stone carvings set on a plinth and surrounded by tombs. It was breathtaking and not nearly as hectic. Plus, when a bunch of schoolchildren started laughing and taking my picture, I stuck out my hand and introduced myself and asked to take their picture. They all giggled and formed a queue to shake my hand. Then they all gathered around me and I got a great snap.

So back to Srirangapatha, which was truly magical. I happened to stumble into Lakshmi's main temple here (which I think is called the Sriranganatha Temple) when a pooja was in process. I bought my requisite offering of 3 gorgeous pink roses and a 5 rupees ticket to heaven and shuffled in to a tight queue of people. A holy man started approached between the throng, chanting as people spoke to him and I panicked a bit. Was I supposed to take part, what was I meant to say? Luckily behind me a lovely girl calle Deepha told me that I had to give him my star sign and name (plus the rose) and he'd make a prayer for me. When he got to me I gave the info all wrong and the holy man broke his chant, looked a bit miffed then broke into a huge smile and asked my new friend for help. It was amazing hearing him chant Laura and Capricorn and wish me well.

A series of pushings and shoving and prayers and more colours on the forehead ensued and I ended up outside the temple arguing with the shoe wallah about one rupee. Not very holy of me but there is a tendency to double the price for everything for foreigners here. With my flippies back, I wandered down to the water front to watch everyone bathing and splashing and having a lovely time. I was staring wistfully out across the lovely river, when I noticed my new friend and her gang sitting in a boat like contraption taking photos. I offered to take one of them all and then they asked me to join them on a river cruise that went about 1/2 a mile an hour, took us out to a Ganesh shrine in the middle of the river and then dumped us out on a rock while the young guy (couldn't have been more than 10) negotiated the tiny rapids and we got back on for the final 2 foot stretch. All the while we took snaps (to come I promise) and chatted and laughed and I felt like the luckiest person alive.

They told me the name of the "boat" and I think it was called a theppa, but it reminded me of the coracle (sp?) at Uncle Ant's place in Scotland. The coracle if a Welsh floating device that feels like you're stirring a pudding when you steer it and is one of the most ancient vehicles I'd ever been in, until today. Tor, I didn't fall out either. When I tried to pay, Deepha had already done so and insisted it was their treat. Just when you think your enthusiasm and patience is wearing thin, you get blessed and treated to a river cruise. This country is truly astounding.

So, I'm back to Bangalore tomorrow and might finally, actually make it to Kerala after all.
I will write again soon.
Megaluv, Lxxx

FIRST TASTE OF PARADISE

2008-12-18T22:18:00.001+05:30

Little did I know that when I was told about Nrityagram Dance Village that it was actually closed for staying guests and there were no classes being taught. However, the wonderful Lynne Fernandez and her troupe of dancers have welcomed me here nonetheless.

I have to be quick as there is a birthday party for Surupa (a principal dancer here who does all the choreography) going on outside and I just raced in to let you know that I'm safe and o' so well. It's my second night here and I chose a tricky time to visit, as they're also training for a performance in Chennai (Madras) this weekend and are all leaving tomorrow. Lynne has put me up in a guest cottage and I've been watching rehearsals and wandering about this sacred compound in a daze of quiet happiness.

It truly is magical and I've been the only 'unofficial' guest, though some Indian tourists came through today to take a look for a few hours and I felt rather affronted. The cheek of me thinking this was all here for me.

The bonfire is raging outside and guests are drinking and eating incredible Thai food. I spent all afternoon watching Lynne, Bijayni and all the girls working like demons. I sat on a stool as they pounded pastes and prepared a mountain of food. It was all a surprise for Surupa, but the cover was blown when her boyfriend Blue turned up with his brother Chip who works with wolves in Alaska but lives in Texas. Blue lived for 16 years in Melbourne and loves Australia. He tried to move his parents out but the gov't wouldn't let him, so he had to come home to India. We've had some great chats and they've agreed to let me jump in their jeep to Mysore tomorrow.

I've been trying in vain to get a train or bus to Cochin for days but it's such a busy time, it's been near impossible. There is a big Christian community there, so a lot of people congregate for Chrissie. Sampat kindly had me to stay for a night in his lovely flat in Benson Town in Bangalore. He gave me invaluable advice about heading south, as he's from Kerala and knows every nook and cranny. I now have my whole mission through that beautiful state and up in to Tamil Nadu all planned out.

The saint that he is, Sampat insisted I get an Ayurvedic treatment when I said I fancied a massage, so after a few false starts he sent me to a traditional place. I had the oil dripping again on my third eye (which is well and truly waking up methinks) and really loved the process this time, instead of falling fast asleep and wobbling all over the place. That said, if I keep going at this rate my jelly belly is going to increase significantly. I adore Indian food and it seems to agree with me thus far.

We had a lovely dinner at an old 'colonial style' Benglaru restaurant and the food was delish. Sampat runs his own advertising business and has some great clients. It's his company but essentially he's Creative Director. We had a yummy breakie of idli, my new fave food which is a kind of rice cakey, spongy thing that you dip in samba (curry) and a coconuty chutney. We talked about the monkey god Hanuman and this lead to talk of his guru, a man from a very wealthy family who ended up living by a temple in Trivandrum at the side of the road. He didn't eat for 35 years. He spoke very, very rarely but communicated via his eyes with his disciples and only took tea from a disabled boy. He passed on some years ago and the temple is still waiting for the next guru. Sampat's description of meeting Poonthura Sami was fascinating, he took no money from his followers and asked for nothing and when he looked at you it was with "total love". How can one argue with that purity of thought? It was a wonderful breakfast and exit from Bangalore, short but sweet and brimming with spirituality.

Getting to Nrityagram with Sampat's driver was quite an adventure. The big highways we raced along were thick with trucks and everything imaginable. I thought I'd seen crazy roads in Mexico, Cambodia and Brazil but they have nothing on India. It's the driving straight into and between lanes of oncoming traffic that gets me every time. I was so grateful to be dropped off at the door by Narasimhan, who was gracious and caring.

After arriving a bit late, I was ushered straight into a rehearsal. I watched Surupa and Bijayni (both principal dancers) practice a range of dances from Orissa. According to Lynne (we sat up together drinking tea and chatting most of last night) there is some controversy about the type of dancing they teach here and how it's spelt - either Orissi or Odissi - but it's so expressive and graceful. Both girls blew me away, but Surupa's dance of betrayal almost had me in tears it was so beautiful.

All the girls who work here have made me feel welcome and surrounded by love and light. They're just a very, very special group of people and they spread their dance all over the world. I want to try and find them some gigs as they are world renowned and deserve to be seen everywhere. If anyone has any ideas or leads, please let me know.

Anyway, instead of just writing about all this, I must get back to the bonfire and enjoy the rest of the evening. We leave for Mysore at 6.30am and I hope to get on to Cochin tomorrow night as I have booked hotels for Sat and Sunday in Alleppy, which is where I'll explore the backwaters from. I hear that the men in Kerala must be treated with genuine suspicion so I'm going to watch my back and just pray that my guardian angels continue to look out for me.

One more thing, Lynne told me about a saying here which is 'swalpi adjust maadi' which basically means 'adjust a little' and it's what you have to adhere to everything in India. Nothing is quite what you want or expect but if you adjust a little, you'll be ok. I'm letting go with every breath and it feels great - SAM is my new motto.

More soon my lovelies.

Lxxx

DANCING TO THE BEAT OF INDIA

2008-12-15T13:08:00.000+05:30

Thank you SO much to everyone who has sent me emails and messages since I left. It's wonderful to hear from you. If you're taking the time to read my ramblings, I'd seriously appreciate any comments which you can leave below each post. I'm off to Bangalore tomorrow morning and I think my internet access will be more sporadic over Chrissie.

Gosh it's so much fun not knowing where I'm going to spend Christmas or my birthday or new year. I'm just going to let the wind blow me where it wants in the south of India and then over into Sri Lanka. I have always wanted to go to the tea plantations down there, ever since hearing Kamal's dulcet tones as a child. I've been making people laugh here with that comment, but it's true. It's so funny how certain images remain with you into adulthood.

So Andy and Rich would have made it back to Syndey by now, Ems is on her flight to Calcutta in a few hours and then Cam and I travel to the airport together tomorrow. I've completely changed my plans since meeting a lovely man and his wife last night - Rahul and Malini Akerkar. I told them about my desire to learn some Indian dance and it turns out that they lived for 2 years at a dance village outside Bangalore called Nrityagram. They described it as so magical, I decided that I would go there before Kerala which means I can meet Sampat (thanks for the intro Victoria, you're a star) in Bangalore. He is a film producer and has introdcued me to a few great people in Bombay, so I'm glad I'll get the chance to thank him in person.

It's time to start packing my backpack and sorting through all my various belongings. I already seem to have acquired a scary amount and I've been rather restrained!!! I upgraded from my knackered backpack I have travelled with since I was nineteen to a new snazzy (smaller = phew) one with wheels. It's an uberpack, Indian style and I'm going to try and not fill it. Easier said than done to be sure.

On various people's advice I went and bought some fabric today to be made into a sheet that I can wrap myself in, particularly at cheap hotels. After being shown a huge range of options at Thakhur, I spied some cotton material covered in rainbow love hearts. The guys were all laughing at me as I insisted that I wanted that material, not some special cotton boring sheet that they were trying to make me buy (export quality madam, very very nice and special price for you). Then I had to take it over the road to a guy who would sew the sheet for me. What an experience. He thought I was insane as I had a clear picture in my mind of how to make it all one big piece with a section for stuffing the pillow in and I insisted on leaving the bottom open so my feel could breathe. Again, four different people were needed to make him understand and do what I wanted. He was quite resistant until I got them all laughing. Now I've got the most brilliant makeshift sheet/pillow that I can climb into like a technicolour catepillar. I gave Emma a demo when I got home by rolling around on the floor.

So after dropping Andy and Rich at the airport bloody early yesterday, (it took 3 of us to wake Cam up and he was still half asleep driving like a nutter, scarier than most rickshaw drivers!!!), I wanted to go and see some traditional music and there was a performance in Villa Parle. Somehow we found the college and I wandered off on my own to find the auditorium which was only half full when I arrived. It filled up and then a ceremony of thanks took place as the auditorium had just been completed and flowers were given to funders and speeches were made and it was all pretty surreal as the fans whirred and people squeezed in left right and centre. A sweet girl called Nivirdita and her mother (Juti I think) sat next to me and I found out that she's 10 years old and studying singing and an instrument I can't remember the name of. It's like a cross between an accordian (thought it's a box shape and sits on the floor) and an organ. She spent most of the next 3 hours watching me instead of the music, I was the only whitey and was welcomed there by many people and given chai by a lovely woman called Indu at the break. She and her husband are both doctors and very old, but took the trouble to talk to me about the Hindustani music I was witnessing and asked me to come for tea on my return to Bombay. It seems that they know all sorts of people in film and want to introduce me.

The woman who performed first was so incredible, her voice built and built and soared around the auditorium. I closed my eyes and almost went to sleep a few times as I was so relaxed. The chai break refreshed me, Nividita came out and told me it was starting and she and her Mum had saved my seat. Gosh the Indian hospitality is like nowhere I've experienced. It's overwhelming and humbling.

What followed was a flautist on a traditional wooden flute who had two tandura (I think that's the spelling??) players (the singer had only one) who pluck at these extraordinary long guitar like things that sit upright and help tune the performance. The drummer was on a tabla and he was amazing, he did both performances and must have been exhausted at the end. There were 5 pieces in total (2 singing, then 3 flute) and the concert went for hours and hours. I jumped in a rickshaw home and had such fun zooming along the streets. When I got back around 2pm I collapsed in a heap and read my book (Two Lives by Vikram Seth, thank you Lucy I think you gave that to me last birthday?) and then Hame called me. It was so divine to catch up with my little bro who sounds happy but tired and excited to take off for a road trip with his lady Sofi.

Last night, I met Rahul and Mahini at a party given by Ravi and Bandana Krishnan at their incredible place called Champagne House on Worlhi Sea Face, right on the ocean in such a great area. It was a hot and long drive down there, followed by an argument with the taxi driver who tried to almost double my fare on me. Grrrr. But what followed was an evening of such delights, I didn't stay mad for long. Bandana is Fashion Director at Indian Vogue and has great taste so the house was covered in candles and marigolds were everywhere. People filled the place and I guess about 30 people drank and ate the night away (food courtesy of the wonderful Nikhil whose restaurant is a Thai fusion placed called Busaba, also the name of one of my fave places in London!!). Everything was delicious and I met some wonderful people.

I shared a cab home with the gorgeous Mekhla who talked about the recent troubles with such eloquence and intelligence all the way to Bandra. When she gave me her number, I found that it was already in my phone!! Seems she met Emma a while back as I'm using Ems phone, so that was a lovely bit of synergy. When I mentioned the dance school to Sampat today and said that a guy I'd met had lived there for 2 years, he said "Oh is that the Indigo guy" as Rahul owns a chain of restaurants. Everyone knows everyone, everywhere!! Plus I met the Costume Designer from Monsoon Wedding who told me all sorts of gossip about the industry and knows my old boss from LA. This world is so incredibly huge, but so small at the same time.

Well my dears, I must get packing.
Megaluv xxxxx

THE VIOLENCE OF THE COLOURS

2008-12-13T19:19:00.000+05:30

For those of you who were at my 30th at Dalmeny Towers, you'll remember the theme as above. Inspired by my obsession with every colour of the rainbow and my tendency to wear all of them at once, my darling Mum once commented "It's not that the colours you choose aren't pretty, it's just that you wear them altogether with such violence." Well, I have finally found a place where my tendency fits right in. I love the violence of the colours here, everywhere you look the women are wearing hot pinks with bright blues and greens and yellows and reds and golds and I just want to capture them all at once in my mind's eye. I love it.

I'm struggling a bit today after a rather heavy night out on the tiles where I got my first taste of 5 star luxury here. WOW!! After a friend of Ems (the gorgeous Aussie Indian dancer Jess) birthday party we all ended up at a club in the Grand Hyatt. For a city with people crammed into hovels and living on the pavements, to walk into a hotel which is so humungous that you could stage the Olympics inside is rather bewildering. Sort of sickening really.

Rich and Andy have arrived from Rajasthan and are such fun. The Bungalow In The Clouds is brimming with people who are all taking off in completely different directions in a few days (A & R back to Oz, Ems back to her Tollywood film set in Calcutta and Cam to Delhi for a big board meeting). But I'm getting ahead of myself, as I haven't told you about the shadow readings yet.

Before I left, Jez and Lise gave me a wonderful guide book called Love Mumbai that is full of the best tips and selections of out of the way recommendations that are usually spot on. Rich and Andy know Fiona who writes the books and they had decided that they were keen to have their shadows read by Anil who is a tenth generation distance healer. He and his son run a business where they measure your shadow on the roof and then ask you various basic questions about your family and astrology. Then you write a list of questions that Anil answers with his son doing some translating.

I'm not sure I'd recommend it, but it was fascinating to see how we all reacted to him and his predictions. Ems decided to bow out as each one took an hour so we would have been stuck there all afternoon, which in the end we were, so the rest of us had a go. Andy went first and urged Rich and I to come up after together so Anil could tag team our session. After standing on the roof with some dudes taking photos of us for a tourist guide they're putting together, we got our shadows measured and then went downstairs for our session.

Rich was immediately wary of Anil and asked him some probing questions that he didn't really answer satisfactorily, while I was rather wide eyed and happy to go along for what was clearly a bit of a ride. I won't go into all my predictions but despite there being a bit of a language/accent barrier, it was mostly positive and it got me thinking about lots of things and I was pleased to hear that I"m going to be enlightened in this lifetime. Yippeee!

On arriving back at the flat, a henna artist arrived and spent 2 hours covering my hands and forearms with the most incredible designs. I have always wanted to get it done properly and seeing all the ladies at the wedding on Monday looking so graceful, I have been on a mission to find someone to do it. Thanks to Asif and his gorgeous sister for coming to the flat and covering me. You should have seen the state of the flat this morning after our big henna session and night, there was stuff EVERYWHERE. God bless Anju who cleans everything up, what a crazy experience it is having a maid (such an outdated term that is still used here) and a driver. Oh the luxuries of Asia, it's easy to see how so many ex-pats find it hard to go home.

So, it really is time for me to book my ticket to Kerala, but I can't seem to find any cheap ones and trains are pretty booked up. I'm going to have another go online and see what I can find. I've spent a lot of today reading up about the south and I am jumping out of my skin with excitement to get down there. I'm going to relish my last few days in this here city though.

Oh and my quest for the best chai in India found a new front runner at Anil's office, but the cup that our charming neighbour Roland just brewed for me was delish. He lost his wife only a few days ago after a long illness (Ems was at the funeral yesterday) but he welcomed me through his door and made jokes almost constantly. The best was when the phone went and it was his brother's family from Canada calling, "You've just interrupted me as I was about to make love to an Australian girl. Life goes on!" I hope I can be that resiliant and positive and hilarious when I'm 78 and recently bereaved. He's off to see 11 local choirs perform tonight at one of the 7 churches in Bandra. He's devoutly Catholic but loves visiting churches of all faiths, I love people who are all embracing in their lives and Roland is the embodiment of this.

Namaste.

BOMBAY IS THE BEST

2008-12-11T16:20:00.000+05:30

Well, well,

I've been adventuring and exploring and it's official. I'm in love with this city. Amidst the chaos and the dusty streets lie so many nooks and crannies filled with some of the warmest and most spiritual people I've ever met. Every day brings new delights.

I am in danger of becoming a dumpling if I stay here much longer. The food is incredible. It's hard to explain the buffet that greeted us when we walked into the main area of the wedding. It started off in a kind of theatre where all the wedding party were lined up on a stage, receiving all their guests.

All the women were wearing the most incredible saris. I've never seen such a concentration of colours in one room. Mum - the violence of the colours, I'm in heaven amidst them all.

My sari was a little understated, but the women in particular seemed to love that I'd worn it. I had to run downstairs and ask Fariba, a kindly Parsi neighbour, to help me tie it. She told me stories behind her religion as she wound and wound and folded and pleated and pinned me for what seemed like an age. Then she leant me a beautiful necklace and I added so many bangles I could hardly fit them. Plus a bindi. Of course.

It was a very refined and sedate evening after the mad dancing of the pre-wedding party. To be honest the family looked exhausted after a full three days of entertaining. The ladies' henna-ed hands looked incredible. I'm longing to do it too.

There's just too much to do and what's heavenly, is actually having the time to do it. Planning my travels down south and then to the north over the next two months is filling my heart and soul with joy. I am keeping a book of notes from everyone I meet with recommendations and advice.

I started some biz meetings this week and have met a variety of people in the film and media industry here. The Filmaka office is impressive and I had a great session with Rohit. Then I met a diamond dealer in a funny little coffe shop called Sanjiv who was full of advice about so many things. Thanks Tiggy.

The amazing Victoria Aitken introduced me to a producer who lives in Bangalore and he's hooked me up with the wonderful Lubina. Then Abdul for lunch today who gave me a lift home on the back of his Enfield. Was soooooo much fun.

I've now got an appointment for a little bit of pampering (pedi and manicure if you please) so I must run. Ems great mate Rish and her boyfriend Andy are arriving imminently and the weekend is one day away. It's almost time for me to book my flight to Kerala.

Bliss. Megaluv to all,
Lxxxx

WOW, WAR, PEACE

2008-12-08T18:10:00.000+05:30

Namaste.

I am overwhelmed by the colours, smells, warmth, people, sounds and general mayhem of Bombay. I love it here.

Although I've been amidst a whirl of first timer bliss, (thoroughly spoiled by my hosts) it's impossible to avoid the tension in the air since the attacks. Nor would a traveller want to ignore such an important thing as the political situation of a country one's visiting. Though I can see how ex-pat life does cocoon and protect you here.

War with Pakistan is bubbling so close to the surface, at a party on Saturday night a young man predicted it might happen in the next few weeks. With an election next year, a terrorist in custody and people braying for justice, this is clearly a very serious threat (and was so even before the attacks). Others completely disagree that it's so imminent, but most agree that it's more than likely.

Deep breaths.

I tried to visit the Gateway of India today and armed guards told me I couldn't get near it. It looked rather forlorn all cordoned off and alone, while photos I've seen are usually teeming with life. We passed Leopold Cafe (made famous by Shantaram) where a gunman opened fire and bullet holes are now part of the furnishings, it had a few people inside breathing new life into the area. A lot of the young Indians I met at this rocking rooftop party on Saturday night (thank you darling Bandana and Ravi for a fantastic eve!!) live near the Taj and were in the middle of the war zone. Some haven't slept a night through since.

There is so much to say on this subject but I am ill-equipped. I am a newbie and although I ask most people how they feel and what their experience was, everyone seems to have a very different reaction. The city does seem rather subdued, but the people are so warm and wonderful, they are appalled by what happened and pray that this will unite them, not divide.

Time to wrap myself up in my first sari, as it's time for the real wedding now.
We're off to Juhu. More soon.
Shanti.

DOUBLE WEDDING JEOPARDY

2008-12-06T14:24:00.000+05:30

Would I like to go to an Indian pre-wedding celebration on my second night here? Would I ever!!

After a monster sleep where nothing could wake me until the afternoon, I spent a lazy afternoon exploring Bandra, getting lost, finding my way again and getting lost just as quickly. Cam made it home and we popped the champers and prepared for a night out, Indian style. He was telling me that everyone is always late and that there was absolutely no rush, but by the time we rolled up to Gallups racecourse we were walking against the tide.

There was a walkway covered in fairy lights that we raced up and it opened out to the most amazing sight. Thousands of people in every colour imaginable where talking, laughing and eating in a massive open field. The band seemed to be packing up so Cam went to find the father of the bride, having forgotten the wedding invitation we didn't know the names of his daughter and her husband to be.

My eyes were on stalks at the amount of food. Soon we were piling our plates high and getting advice from guests about the best things to taste. THere was so much meat, we couldn't believe it and we made the most of it.

After chowing down, Cam admitted that he really didn't recognise a single person. It suddenly dawned on us that we might be at the wrong venue. Grabbing a pina colada for good measure, we slowly backed out of the place and went back to the car. Sriraj was laughing at us. We'd crashed a Parsi wedding and of course the other drivers had told him while we were in there.

Finally we found the right place and almost immediately Dilep came running up to us to welcome us to the event which was well under way. Did we want food, please come and eat something. I managed a few spoonfuls as we pretended we were starving, then he dragged us on to the dance floor and introduced us to almost everyone. We had such a fun night. The best was watching everyone do the moves to Om Shanti Om (a famous Bollywood movie) and just drinking in the joyful occasion.

One of the best moments had to be when we were at the bar and chatting away, when a guy next to Cam asked him if he was having fun. In a slightly offhand manner, Cam replied "Yes, are you?" and turned back to me, then we heard the words, "Yes, it is my wedding"!! It was the bridegroom. So we completely overcompensated by rushing at him with congratulations.

I love the way the women here use their hands when they dance. I want to learn how to do that. It was such a happy occasion and we collapsed at the end of the night. The weekend was blissfully dominated by a lot of food and films and relaxation.

I can't wait for the real wedding on Monday night....

MADE IT SAFE AND SOUND

2008-12-04T18:29:00.000+05:30

Darlinkas,
At 5am, after battling the mob for a trolley, I wandered out into the heat to find two of the friendliest faces waiting for me. The gorgeous and wonderful Emma and Cam Garrett were waiting for me at Mumbai airport. They whisked me away as the city slowly yawned and the sun beckoned.

I've already had 3 massala chais and have been hooning around the city with Ems. In heaven.

In fact, I reached Nirvana. Already I hear you say? Yes, I had a 2 hour, 2 person Ayurvedic massage that involved a helluva lot of oil and it was called, you guessed it - Nirvana. And it delivered.

We've just finished eating fresh almonds and drinking coconut juice on the terrace and now soon my ol' mate Cam will be home so we can pop the cork on that champers in the fridge.

Now it's time to plot the next 2 months of delicious adventures in this incredible country.
Jealous anyone? Come find me then.

A special thank you to all my incredible friends and family for all your messages of love and support. And a very special shout out to the chosen few who helped me pack. What a gargantuan task it was. I'm sooooo relieved it's over and I've made it in one piece (got to check in with 4 mins to spare at Heathrow after 2 hours sleep)!!

More soon my lovelies. xxxx

THERE SHE BLOWS

2008-12-03T08:57:00.000+05:30

7 more hours and I'm on that plane. I truly haven't felt this excited for an age.

Or so it seems. I think things are amplified as you get older. The massive highs and lows of life in London have scooped me up and dropped me on my butt so many times.

The BIFAs went so incredibly brilliantly following such a tricky time with work and finances and all that adult shite that drives one insane in the membrane.

My favourite moment has to be when I cancelled all my direct debits. Utterly, deliciously satisfying.

I will savour that first bloody mary at the airport tomorrow. I'm up at 6ish so I really better crash.

It's funny, I'm on my couch as my mattress is in store. My last night in my flat. I wonder if I'll be back. I honestly don't know.

Wish me luck, I'm about to leap.
With glee.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeee.

SHOCK, HORROR, DETERMINATION

2008-11-28T01:13:00.000+05:30

Well, it's just dreadful what's happened and continues in Bombay/Mumbai today. I am so relieved to hear from my friends there that they're all ok. It's just so appalling and shocking and mystifying.

I feel as determined as ever to fly into Bombay next week. I will not let these terrorists stop me. I just pray that calm will be restored and that the poor hostages will be released.

Wish I'd got my visa on my Australian passport not my British one now!! Just kidding.

I am glued to the news and am saying many prayers.

COUNTDOWN IS PROGRESSING

2008-11-26T05:16:00.000+05:30

I did it. I booked my ticket. Around the world. Yipppeeeeee!!

9 more sleeps to go and I'll be waking up in Bombay. I have gorgeous friends meeting me there and so many incredible adventures and new friends ahead. This feeling of anticipation is overwhelming. The freedom, I can almost taste it.

London has turned bitterly cold and seems to be pushing me to leave. Though it still sparkles and flashes me when I least expect it. I am relishing my final days.

This Sunday is the big event - the British Independent Film Awards is nigh. I pray I have the stamina to achieve all I must in the next short while. And beyond. Is it just my fixation with India, or is Slumdog Millionaire one of the best films of the year? I do hope it does well at the BIFAs. And Hunger too. A rich selection to be sure.

I will get used to this sharing thing, I want to ensure that all my incredible friends, family and cohorts can share in my adventures (should they feel so inclined) so promise to do my best.

Deep breaths.

DECEMBER HERE WE COME

2008-11-13T03:42:00.001+05:30

I can't believe it's that time of year again.

My promise to myself - that for my birthday, on December 30th, I'll be in country I've never been to before. All the signs are pointing to India.

In the meantime, I'm working hard for the gorgeous ladies at the British Independent Film Awards and by god it's takes some doing to unpick one's life. I never knew I was such a hoarder.

Some lovely people have been to check out my abode and are keen to move in. All I need now it to book my ticket outta dodge. I'm just waiting patiently for what's owed me.

I say a little prayer....

WINDS OF CHANGE

2008-11-04T20:40:00.000+05:30

The time has come.

After 7 years in London town, the southern hemisphere is calling. So I'm teaming up with some fantastic people for my final month here, before absconding to India and beyond.

I'm planning to launch a new company, so check out Legacy.

In the meantime, watch this space.