Nakamals open when the kava has been prepared in the afternoon, and stay open until it runs out.
Locals eat at the Mama’s Market. Tables covered in colourful aged plastic in neat rows with simple benches. Strangers and friends sit together, wherever there is a space.
Occasionally a place and a people can open up, and let you see truths that you would never initially imagined.
It’s hard to pinpoint the subtle background static that suggests unpredictability. Anticipation. It doesn’t brew in many places.
I would like to start writing about personal things and experiences again, but I don’t quite have anything […]
And so I’m home again. Enjoying life, loving Melbourne, yet I’ve been unable to write. I have a document of false starts and half written pieces.
Well here we are again. India and ashrams are excellent places to be during periods of change. Sometimes […]