Beautiful

This blog was originally published on Medium in 2015

It had been an easy enough decision.

I was told I had the choice of the planet for my 50th birthday expedition. My more spiritual side had spoken and I had wanted to go somewhere less mainstream than many of my previous travels. On the other hand, I’m no backpacker.

Kerala was the place I wanted to see so a guided tour in a small group around parts of the state it was. From the moment we walked out of the airport terminal into that heat, that vibrancy, the crowds of wonderful, wonderful Keralans and that light …wow that light … I knew I’d chosen well.

On the eve of my 50th Birthday we found ourselves meandering slowly through the backwaters on a traditional houseboat. Yes it’s an obvious thing to do as a tourist yet somehow it felt special. I didn’t know how special until a little later in the afternoon. It’s hard to put this into words…

Just before I took the above photo we had berthed on the edge of the river close to a village. I have no idea what the village is called, shameful I know, but it’s in the more remote part of the backwaters. The village straddles the water but has no bridge so there was a bustle of early-evening traffic on the water. By traffic I mean rowing and country boats, of course.

We set off to explore this side of the village. After a little while we bumped into three young brothers who were running an errand for their mother. Under the watchful gaze of their father standing a hundred metres away outside their home, we carefully talked to the boys. Beautiful children, excited to meet some more strange pale people, chatting away enthusiastically.

As we continued on the river bank we remembered that we’d been told to be discreet and quiet - it was an important religious festival.

There was incense in the air; different families were clustered around their temples; the wildlife was quietening.

The occasional child ran past us happily; the sun was setting…that light intensified; boats were slowly crossing to and fro between the two halves of the village.

Across the water rows and rows of ghee candles (diyas?) were flickering; the humidity clung to your skin but the cool breeze was just starting to pick up; people were wearing the most vibrant colours; we were surrounded by lush flora.

I had fallen back from my companions and was buzzing with all this energy. Really buzzing as I do when I connect.

And then, as the bushes along the river cleared to offer a more expansive view of the festival, on top of all this a man across the water started chanting a gorgeous religious mantra.

It was one of the most stunning moments of my life.

Sensory overload.

I haven’t often felt so present, so energised, so connected. I can still recall that energy as I write this blog. I can feel it. Spine-tingling.

What a way to see in my 50s.

It really can be a beautiful world.