I scored a position as a web developer at a great little company - DC Interact: interesting office space, co-workers who have become great friends, and really cool projects for clients like Apple, Calvin Klein, Penguin books, and Liberal Democrats.

Danielle managed to get some contract work before scoring a position as an Account Director at a top notch advertising agency in South Kensington - Lowe London. Managing such obscure accounts as Johnson & Johnson and Nokia means she's really not that busy or satisfied ;-)

Apart from work we've managed to get to one of the world's most famous music festivals - Glastonbury - a complete washout and a completely fantastic experience.

We've lived in the centre of London at Holborn, been through the London bombings in which a DC-Interact'er died - Neetu Jain. Taking over the desk and computer of someone who lost their life in such a significant attack was a real reminder about the impermanence of life.

I've travelled to Paris and been through North England and Scotland with my mum, Danielle's traveller to France with hers, and we've both managed to see pretty much all of London, been to Brighton, Bath, Northampton.

We've lived in East London, moved to Clapham Common and now this is sounding like such another "I ate toast for breakfast" type of post that I'm stopping.

Work? Yes - it's come to that time of our travels many of you have been looking forward to. Rubbing of hands and stomping of feet and hooting can now begin. I know I know - reading these airy musings and hearing about our daily dilemmas (to the beach, or to the restaraunt?) must've been tough and torturous. We loved every minute of it.

We're already receiving emails almost bursting with joy at the fact we have to once again join the ranks of you. Fortunately for us we've built up a strong, healthy appetite to once again join the fray - so London presents just another wonderful opportunity in this big round world. We're busy right now painting signs for our daily London walk: 'Will work for more overtime'. How keen is that?

Speaking of you, this whole weblog journal has been an interesting and very rewarding exercise. You seem to be a number that's grown beyond just our two mums. With no advertising! How's that for smart marketing (gmail eat your heart out).

It's definitely been an experience, and there's so many more words we could write, and so many photos to add to the squareapple collection - but for now it's time to hit reality and focus.

One more night in Bombay and then a flight to the UK. This is it. I'm sure there's some pointers on travel and final comments we'll get round to, but then it's time to shut this shop down. I'm sure volume 2 'The London Experience' will hit the stands sometimes this year - but don't hold your breath.

We've got some Work to do.

Once we'd arrived at the health resort (nestled beneath a palm plantation, I might add!) we were keen to get stuck into the Ayurvedic treatments. Our first step was a consultation with the Ayurvedic doctor. While I busily scribbled away at the six-page questionnaire, he quietly sat and observed me in order to determine my constitutional type (there are three primary categories and ten altogether). Through his observations and the questionnaire, consideration was made to my body frame and weight, digestive and elimination patters, immune function, disease history and psychological characteristics... and the list goes on. Gee, I never though the day would come when I'd run out of room in the designated box titled 'Problems'. I guess my body really is becoming old and decrepit after all of these years! Once the factors were determined, the doctor prescribed a diet according to my constitution type and specific health problems.

Our daily diet was a a tasty affair consisting of vegetarian meals. The consumption of our prescribed herbal medicine, on the other hand, was one to die for - literally. Three different types of herbal medicine thrice daily was really pushing the limit. I lived with the hope that the worse it tasted, the better for me it was. But we all successfully kept up with it for 21 sittings. Go team!

We were wholly surrounded by herbs, herbs and even more herbs (and no, there were no 'happy herbs'). Pots of herbs with long-exotic-and-very-impressive-names grew throughout the property giving it a similar density of, say the Amazon. OK, maybe a slight exaggeration, but you know what I mean. We walked alongside herbs, we breathed herbs, we drank herbs, we ate herbs, we consumed herbal medicine, we washed ourselves with herbs, and our treatments used herbs.

Our two-hour daily treatments varied in nature. Our constant daily treatment was a full body herbal oil massage, conducted by two women simultaneously. It was quite an interesting experience to say the least. Any uncomfortable feeling you might have about strutting around in your birthday suit while getting oiled up by two strangers must be left at the door, cause this is the natural way things are done around here man. Alternative treatments included heavy duty papaya/egg face packs, foot massages, hand massages, facial massages, clay-pot oil-drips (on your forehead), hot mud-pack back massages, and a steam bath. It doesn't get much better than that does it!

But as they say, Ayurveda is a way of life. With this in mind, we'd run, swim, do yoga and also meditate daily. The beach was our playground, and I can tell you that I had full intentions to soak up the rays before hitting rainy old London. We also ventured out to the Kerela backwaters one morning - an attraction which Kerela is renowned for.

Just in reference to the photos down the side... since there was no chance in hell that a camera was entering into our treatments, I thought picks of the backwaters and our night life would suffice!

With such a natural existence over the past couple of weeks, with Bruce and Jo, our bodies and minds feel completely cleansed. And I can tell you that my quality of life has also been heightened now that I'm not required to take that putrid medicine anymore!

A lazy land full, and I mean full, of coconut trees and old 50's style big-bonnet cabs cruising down dusty red backroads to beautiful deserted beaches. It feels like Cuba might when we finally visit that side of the world. Not that Cuba is full of Indian Ayurvedic health resorts.

Kerala certainly is. Our first introduction was to the Surya Samudra resort, a fabulous little utopia tucked away along one of those dusty red back roads. Perched on a headland commanding a view of paradise lost, it was exactly what we all needed.

Dad and Jo had just finished a non-stop trip around Egypt and Turkey, visiting Gallipoli with my grandfather and brother so three generations could see where my great-grandfather fought. By all accounts a fantastic and packed journey. At the same time Danielle and myself were racing around Rajasthan, so we were all ready to have a real holiday. After seven months of travelling we felt we *really* deserved it :-)

Early morning beach runs and swims gave us a taste of that Sydney summer we'll be missing once we hit London, and fabulous meals in between idle pool-side chatter and ayurvedic massages kept up the energy levels to continue relaxing.

Kerala really is a magical place - and it seems like the rampant tourism monster hasn't stopped by to devour the place just yet.

It's also been really surreal watching all those images of places we've just visited: Rai Leh beach, and Koh Phi Phi Island in Thailand, and Chennai in India. To see the bungalows we were staying in on Phi Phi smashed into the ground and the beach in Chennai we were walking on just a mess of rubbish and cars. When we were there it was just a mess of rubbish.

So anyway we're bunkering down in Mumbai till New Years doing research on London, typing up resumes and preparing for the real world. Then after the stress of a few days real work we'll definitely need another holiday - we're off to Goa for two weeks with Dad and Jo which will be fantastic.

We'll get round to some weblog house-keeping of our journeys through Rajasthan over the next few days - but you're all off preparing for New Years Eve parties around the globe, so if we don't talk before then Happy New Years and hopefully see you sometime in 2005.

On a more positive note however, we were jumping at the chance to run along a beach once again - it had been quite a few months. When Jus and I were in the middle of our early morning jog one morning, we were compelled to stop and observe a family playing in the water, close to the shore. The mother, wholly dressed in her sari, was knee deep in the water, frivolously jumping up and down with excitement. Meanwhile the father, dressed in full office attire, was waist deep splashing his hands either side with pure joy. We were curious to know what was going on, but realised that this was just their morning trip to the beach. Hey, I think I'll act the same way when I finally make it back to Manly Beach!

So Christmas was a bit of a let down for me, but at least we spent it on a beach - I've spent 24 of my 25 Christmases on a beach, so why stop now. We ended up spending most of the day hanging around our colourful little Portuguese guest house, indulging in an Aussie Christmas feast - seafood and fresh fruit.

We discovered another beach late on Christmas Day, which wasn't as bad in comparison. There was a real vibe with the local boys playing cricket, fishing trawlers setting out for the night, and nets being hawled onto shore. A beautiful sunset to end a strange day.

So as Justin's already stated, "Come to Diu, there's nothing to see and nothing to do!". I'd highly recommend that this destination be scratched off anyone's future travel plans.

Ever entered a virtual-bull-bucking competition? You know the sort - you’re required to remain on the wild machine for a mere two minutes in order to win 1K. Well although a slightly exaggerated example, riding a camel is almost in the same league. To start with, a step ladder is almost required before your ride begins (especially for the likes of me). When your camel decides he’s ready to get going, the law of gravity is tested as you’re thrown in a back-forward-back motion while holding on for dear life. I was slightly concerned at the prospect of getting altitude sickness from up there, but luckily our treks in the Himalayas had prepared us.

Not only was it necessary to acclimatize, but we were required to participate in the unavoidable bum-workout regime. I don’t know if I like this idea as our glutius-maximus workout could impact our beautimus-maximus journey.

It wasn’t just our butts which got a great workout though, our digestive system worked over time as well. After a long morning of doing, well, sweet-f-all, we’d climb off our camels only to be led to our Rajasthani dining table - sitting on a carpet of golden sand and sheltered by a desert tree. “Cold beer, soft drink or mineral water anyone?” we were asked. We’d indulge in constant chatter around the table while our personal chef, six camel men and one guide, would prepare our fresh feast. And a feast it certainly was – chapathis, dhal, vegetable curry, coconut rice, salad and baked potatoes were prepared and devoured. So much beautiful food and such little will power to resist the temptation of seconds and thirds at each sitting. A hard life it certainly was. After over-indulging, we’d retire to the ‘chill-out’ area where siestas were appreciated and our intestines were getting the Jane Fonda workout.

For the most part, the landscape remained the same – expansive, barren, loads of small shrubs, a few villages and of course loads of sand. When we’d pass through a village, our enthusiasm was reciprocated *insert-mighty-big-number-here* fold. Whole villages of kids would run hundreds of meters just to wave and greet us – "ta ta". They’d all line up with their huge pearly white smiles and go-go hands waving. You couldn’t help but wave and re-re-re-repeat "ta ta" to every single child along the way... and considering their parents have a lot of spare time on their hands, you can only imagine how many kids there were!

Speaking of increasing the population, our camels had a rather unusual behavioural trait. Gargalling from deep in the throat, frothing at the mouth then blowing a balloon-like shape out of their mouth. Yes, very strange - especially after the knowledge that this gesture is in fact one of an ultra horny camel. You guessed it, this was peak mating season. A comment was casually made regarding how unfortunate it would be if our camel acted on his natural urges while we were high in the sky. A collective chuckle lingered in the air, while we all contemplated, with serious concern, the reality of such an action taking place.

The safari kept on reaffirming how strange these creatures really are. Another quality which we found interesting was their ability to anticipate the future. Our camels would wee and wee and keep on weeing when they knew there was a water hole close by. A monsoon would arise out of the desert air and a down poor would hydrate the shrubs below. It became such a comical event, that we’d all sit with anticipation for who’s camel would ‘rain’ the longest. I must have really been wearing my camel out, because it won most times!

Our favourite form of entertainment, however, was sitting back with a cup of chai while conversing about everything and nothing. While we were contently sipping away, our camel men would set up camp next to the shelter of a sand dune. Tents were erected, camels were fed, veges were chopped and fire wood was collected. Yet another feast was consumed, this time retiring to the bonfire to warm the extremities and converse in broken English/Rajasthani with the camel men.

The entertainment continued with an open air cinema screening, compliments of Really Universal Pictures. It was a wonderful picture of galaxies, constellations, planets and who know what else. To sleep in the cold open air under a screen of twinkling lights was a truly magical experience. Our cinema even had surround sound which projected the constant sound of camels: farting, bellowing, and chomping away at their nightly feast. Come dawn, we woke to a hint of the new day rising, ever so slowly. Rising first with the early morning blues, then developing into a brilliant orange.

Our days would always start on a positive note. After watching an amazing sunrise, our guide would bring us a hot chai while we were still blissfully lying in bed. After a few morning stretches alongside the camels, we would eat brekky at one of Bikaneers most scenic restaurants, once again, listening to the constant tunes of camels. With the sand so yellow, the sky so blue and the camels so spectacular, what better place to eat breakfast.

So after three days of over-indulging and being indulged, we were content to end our Jane Fonda workout. Some of us walked a little stiff for a couple of days, but hey, it’s all part of the package!

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What I do know, though, is that being dropped in the middle of nowhere at 4am isn't the most pleasant experience. Not because of any potential dangers, but because 20-hours of no sleep is not conducive to haggling with an auto-rickshaw driver. In the end, we were taken to a gorgeous Arabian-style hotel which even had hot water and blankets. It was so gorgeous that I hardly remember stumbling into the room and tripping into bed.

Bikaner is a sprawling desert town, famous for its old fort, Havelis, and Jain temples. So famous that our auto-rickshaw driver drove us to the wrong location and we didn't get to see the famous sites. We did managed to get lost though, and stumble across this ancient Maharaja's Palace. It is now a beautifully preserved hotel, but has the ability to bring you back in time to an era of concubines, suitors and grand parties.

But at the end of the day, were were in Bikaner to organise a camel safari. And a fine camel safari we found. Three days of getting lost in the desert was exactly what we needed. Probably the furthest place away from the hoards of backpackers and auto-rickshaw wallahs - just what we needed.

After so many weeks in India we were amazed at how little tourists we'd seen. Admittedly we started our India adventure in Chennai, and headed up the east coast to Kolkata - not a major tourist region - but so many times we were the only Westerners on a whole train service. McLeod Ganj was the first real evidence that tourists exist in India. Just like Vang Vieng in Laos, when we hit Pushkar we were happy to just chill out and relax, and Become One of Them.

Being a Very Holy town eggs were of course not available. Which meant masala omelettes weren't either. Which left me a little disappointed at breakfast - but there are always good fruit-muesli-yoghurt dishes lurking in certain cafes if they get the portions right. You may laugh - but developing a skill for locating quality dining establishments becomes important on the road - eating out for every meal can be hard work

Finding cows and holy men isn't. Neither is finding smooth operators dressed as holy men lurking around the lake. Offerring offerings to you to offer to the lake, in the hope you will offer them a donation. Danielle offered them the observation that as they were clearly holy men, they must obviously hold the view that money is of little importance. They were unimpressed, but we couldn't care less.

We'd already seen the smoothest operator yet - and were a little tired of charlatans. After our Vipassana experience we were a little more open to an invitation to view a video on a guru and his teachings. We trooped in to watch a DVD on Maharaji - the Indian boy wonder who was giving public speeches at age three. Now in his mid-thirties he seemed to be giving slick auditorium presentations to corporate crowds beemed via satellite across the world. He's got the website, the cable channels, the DVD, the brochures, and a rehashed commercial version of Buddhism, but he doesn't seem to have much in the way of enlightenment.

That's okay though - cause we'd already had our fill and were content to leave the spiritual fraudsters to their own devices and reach for a higher rooftop restaurant existence. Pushkar really is great for that.

The Raj Mandir is definitely an old jewel of a theatre - it seats around 1300 people, and each of the 3 hour 20 minute sessions (including intermission) generally sell out. We got their early but missed out on the rare diamond seating ($2) , but were still more than satisfied with the offerings of our emerald tickets ($1).

We were treated to Yash Chopra's fantastic Veer-Zaara, an interesting and unusual Bollywood film in that it involved a love story, helicopter action sequences, flashbacks, roaring musical scores, and singing and dancing every five minutes. Singing in the fields, on the top of an Indian bus, in a bathroom, in a bedroom, on a tractor...you get the idea.

The production quality was jaw-droppingly slick and far more polished than Hollywood, even at it's Titanic best. If James Cameron were sitting there I'm sure he would openly weep with admiration at how superbly the Indians have perfected movie cliches.

We didn't cringe though. Oh no - we watched on in absolute, genuine wonder. It did help being all in Hindi, except for the occassional and surprising English phrase like " Ok then, see you on Monday". This meant when locals hotted-up mobile phones rang in perfect polyphonic, signifying the start of a long conversation, we really didn't mind. Wave after wave of rising musical scores drowned out all other sounds anyway.

When intermission hit at 11pm we we're almost keen to watch it right through, but a finishing time of 12:50am just didn't fit in with our early morning train to Ajmer and on to Pushkar. Maybe we can catch the second half in the home of Bollywood - Mumbai.

We checked out a lot of what Jaipur has to offer, and one of the most interesting sights to see without a doubt would have been the Jantar Mantar. An observatory built by Maharaja Jai Singh II in 1728, who along with the observatory, founded Jaipur. The observatory contains numerous devices for calculating many astronomical events (including a massive sun-dial), although Jai seemed to dig astrology too - with 12 devices used to gather information on the various star signs.

Although the observatory was a wonder, Amber fort just outside Jaipur took the cake. It used to be the capital of Jaipur and is absolutely massive. The intricate work throughout the palace compounds and sheer size meant for me it left the Taj Mahal in the dust. It was also a great reminder to always keep that battery charged in the camera, damnit.

Gosh we're getting lazy when we start quoting verbatim from the Lonely Planet. It must mean we're hitting the tourist highway again after three weeks living at a deeper level. I've noticed this shifting of gears as we putter along across Asia and Central Asia. At times you do become the tourist visiting every museum, temple, and 'must-see' that you - well - 'must see'. But then you get over it, and realise there's much more to travelling than that. Sometimes spending a couple of days hanging out with locals and getting invited back for a cup of tea and a chat are worth three Angkor Wats. But once the tea and conversation runs out you realise there's a few things you must see, and so the wheels turn.

Amritsar really is just another dusty, and colourful, Indian city - but there's a distinctly middle-eastern feeling throughout - in architecture, dress, and dust. The Sikh men with their imposing figures, large turbans, handlebar moustaches, long beards, and swords also add to the cultural flavour, and they really do justice to their image as holy warriors. Constantly agitating to create an independant Sikh state. Great historicial suffering when Indian Independance also resulted in half their state being hived off into Pakistan. Some of them still look mad.

They still have their Golden Temple though, and that's enough to make anyone smile. It's most definitely a must-see, once you've offed your shoes, washed your feet and hands, and put on your headgear. As we entered we received an impromptu tour and lesson on Sikhism from a Malaysian pilgrim, who told us in very certain terms that Sikhism's holy book, the Guru Granth Sahib, came directly from God, and that any Sikh would fight to the death to protect it. He was very believable.

The massive complex is dominated by the sacred Amrit Sarovar (Pool of Nectar), with the very Golden Hari Mandir Sahib Temple. Although now I do recollect the Malaysian pilgrim sternly lecturing that they are called gurdwaras, not temples - so Golden Gurdwara it is. The complex is also dominated by the musical sounds from loudspeakers carrying the Punjabi chants of four priests who sit in the Golden Gurdwara flipping through the Guru Granth Sahib.

The pilgrims were all in Sunday best and the Sikh guards were looking pretty special too. Proudly holding ceremonial spears that added rather more atmosphere than if they were carrying the regulation issue automatic weapons of the Indian police. Slowly walking back and forth and obliging to repeated photo requests from Danielle.

The Gurdwara itself is said to be 750kg Golden. As we did the circuit around to the Gurus' Bridge to get a closer look at it an old Sikh with two words' worth of English took on the role of second guide for the day. He took us on a tour into the Akal Takhat building where the Holy book is returned each night. Handpainted ceilings were being given a retouch under the watchful eye of holy men, while some pilgrims prayed and others chanted from old religious scriptures.

As we walked up to the third level our self-appointed guide made his play, asking for a photo with us to be taken, printed and posted to his address. I've done enough time in India handling photo requests to know they're not after a photo with me, but we both obliged.

Right now I'm not quite sure why you've read this far and this many words on one temple visit, you really should get back to work to start saving to take you're own trip here. I'm just writing enough words to fill quota so we can have a purty strip of all those photos down the side here.

The majority of locals are Tibetan, dressed in their traditional clothes and warm smiles. The little streets are lined with boutique shops selling everything from homemade crafts, knitted winter woolies and books on Tibetan history, Buddhism and self-healing. Jewelry shops are in abundance and ‘Chants of Tibet’ float throughout the streets, leaving a peaceful ambience in the air.

Tibetan cultural expression is ever present. 'Free Tibet' clothing, accessories and music is sold everywhere and, if you’re longing for western creature comforts, there are a nightly screenings of Tibetan history and culture on wide screen TV's. Everyone lounging on cushions and couches absorbing the cultural history - a well spent 30 rupees! The fortunate travelers also experience performances at the Tibetan School of Performing arts - an event which is supposed to be an inspiring experience.

‘Free Tibet’ paintings are seen all around the region - on restaurant walls, garage doors, tin roofs, and engraved/painted on rocks all the way up to Moon Peak. For the duration of our stay, there have been daily peaceful protests in an attempt to raise awareness and signatures for a petition to free Tenzin Delek, a political prisoner captured in Tibet and sentenced to death. The following is a passage out of the newsletter distributed throughout MG, and will give you some insight into the treatment of Tibetans by the Chinese:

Tulku Tenzin is a highly respected reincarnate lama recognized by His Holiness the Dalai Lama. Tulku Tenzin Delek, after six long years of religious education in India, returned to Tibet to dedicate himself to the sacred task of serving the poor local Tibetans, who have no access to education and medical facilities. Tulku Tenzin Delek, apart from spearheading major anti-deforestation drives and environmental conservation programs built and financed several monasteries, schools, old-age homes, a Tibetan medical school and a clinic for the local villagers. In his teachings, Tulku Tenzin Delek advocated the need to follow the teachings of the Dalai Lama and to practice love, non-violence and brotherhood. The rising popularity of the Tulku through these philanthropic activities brought him under the direct scrutiny of the Chinese officials. Local Chinese authorities twice attempted to detain Tulku Tenzin Delek on a number of trumped up charges, including ‘endangering state security’ and ‘illegal construction of monasteries and schools’.

One eye-opening experience was meeting Ven. Bagdro, a Buddhist monk who suffered as a political prisoner under Chinese rule. We met Bagdro one morning while we were having breakfast. He was gaining signatures (400 000 to be exact) to enable the Dalai Lama to speak at the UN assembly about human rights. He told us that he was once a political prisoner for three years, and suffered the unimaginable for a crime he did not commit. Curious about his story and suffering we bought his book, “A Hell on Earth”, which detailed his innocent story. After Bagdro was arrested, at age 20, he served a three-year sentence in Chinese prisons where he suffered extreme torture for the duration of his time. Instruments of torture included sophisticated electric prods which were used all over the body, handcuffs, shackles, leather belts, iron rods and guns. These methods of torture are still used on prisoners today.

Around McLeod Ganj, support from the international community is apparent - there is a large community of young foreigners teaching English. I was told that hundreds of Tibetans escape Tibet in order to learn English, so to inform the international community of life under Chinese rule. Many parents send their kids to India, not knowing if they will ever see them again, in order to keep up their culture in Tibetan schools and offer them a better life in India. If anyone is looking to do some volunteer work abroad, I’d highly recommend teaching English in McLeod Ganj based on reports from other travellers, but best bring your winter woolies, it gets freeeeezing in winter!

If you're wanting to inject a little spiritually into your weary traveling soul, there is every kind of spiritual course/treatment on offer. From Reki, to Zen, Tibetan astrology, Tibetan massage, palm readings, yoga, meditation, natural medicine, cooking classes… the list goes on. There are colourful posters lining the streets advertising the array of courses - so getting bored is not an option in this town! The only problem I seemed to encounter was trying to arrange the course timetables, so nothing was missed out. Ah, the stresses of my life these days!

The most impactful course was the Vipassana meditation retreat. Ten days without any form of communication, verbal or non-verbal, while focusing inward the whole time. A skill which would appear so simple, yet proved to be such a challenge. Without a get-to-know-you session before the course, we all resorted to guessing each other's personalities and nationalities from a few sneaky glances. When the silence was broken on day 10, all personalities and nationalities were revealed - many of which were far from original guesstimates. Since the meditators ‘got out’, we’ve spent practically every evening together. From bonfires in the woods, to backpacker style dinner parties, morning/night meditation sittings, cooking classes, cheap eats or chai on the street. A journey across town is lengthened five-fold - you're bound to bump into a handful of meditators. 'There's the Vipassana crew again', the cows murmur. It's great, I feel like I’m back at uni again!

We really are a true melting pot of cultures. Directing the nightly dinner preparations, is Sergio, the flamboyant Spanish chef. Meanwhile, the American girl is preparing the eggplant, the Aussies are chopping carrots and the Canadian entertains us with crazy stories of her travels (the one who reached true liberation during the retreat when she shaved all her hair off!). Adding a pinch of Celtic flavour to the preparations, the Irish girl teaches us how to really dance, and the Lithuanian displays her outstanding multitasking abilities by making chocolate-coconut balls and Irish dancing simultaneously. The Swiss warms himself by the fire, while the French, Dutch and Israeli are battling off the chill through constant chatter. A real melting pot of cultures all brought together through the love of travel and adventure.

Two more months of the like, then off to London for another melting pot of cultures. Life really is beautiful!