Comfortably Numb in Venice

remembering Cobain (Artwork Venice)

the water is rising

Piazza San Marco under water

it's a photo opportunity

and a chance for an easy paddle

they are prepared for the water here

and for her many moods

the oldest patisserie in Venice

every building has a story

peaceful place to pause

it's a quiet day on the canal

Standing on one of Venice's many bridges after a very memorable early morning walk  

I volunteer to deal with my (issue, problem, goal, challenge) in regard to public speaking and a few other people join me “up the front”. I have my hands behind my back and am tapping the sides of my fingers with my thumb.

“I’m Monica and I have a great fear of public speaking”, I say.

Beside me is a man who is unable to cry, and a kindly woman with a Pomeranian who looks after everyone else but not herself but I can’t really remember the other people or their issues. After all, this part of my journey is “all about me”. I am taking an opportunity to focus on myself, a kind of emotional overhaul (hopefully not too painful!) and the idea is that I can also “try out” these new energy techniques for dealing with trauma.

So what’s happening for you now? I think Steve asks.

I want to run away. My heart is pounding and I feel sick. My chest feels tight. It feels difficult to breathe.

In that moment, I am aware of biting and licking my bottom lip.

Did you notice that? He asks the audience, holding my gaze.

“Her mouth has dried up”, someone calls from the audience.

He asks me what is going on.                    

 …my body feels like a mass of sensations and chemical reactions and thoughts all vibrating out of control and my heart keeps pounding and I feel a prick in my eyes and the tears well up.

“A lot, I say” and out tumbles a list of everything that is going on.

Which part do you feel the most? He asks.

I can’t speak. The tears begin their flow over my right eyeball and down my face, joined soon after by the ones from my left one.

I stare at a spot in the distance trying to stay present to what is going on, trying to be gentle with myself, open to and curious about this experience, reminding myself that I am putting myself through this because I want to. It is my choice and it may open a new door.

I point to the area of my heart. “It feels tight here”.

He must have asked me something else, but I don’t remember.

And then there is just sadness.

And when I name it the tears really flow.

Steve gets a box of tissues and hands me one.

“It will take a lot more than that” I blubber and so he hands me another, and another, and another.

“Strange how sadness would be behind a fear of public speaking” he says.

And something about this makes me laugh

And the tears feel less heavy and less sad

And the whole room taps on “this sadness” with me for a while, until we move on to the next person and the cycle starts again.

Later, when Steve checks back in with me I am feeling calmer, the tears have stopped and I feel the energy has moved.

What’s happening now?

I scan my body and my attention rests with my throat, as I stop there the tears well again.

“Mm, I thought it was more with the throat” Steve says

I have a memory of being “punished” if I spoke out in the past.

“Maybe what you have to say isn’t that important” says Steve

 

Ah I think this might be the “provocative” * part I say out loud.

I notice my left arm is holding my stomach, protecting me.

“I feel vulnerable” I say.

Somehow Steve comes up with the idea of being “Comfortably Numb”. It’s a Pink Floyd song, but I don’t know it.

Does that feel right to tap on?

And interestingly it does. (It resonates with my own idea of “getting to neutral” a place, I have been aiming for, where I would be emotionally safe, but still feel without being overwhelmed.

And comfortably numb feels safe…

So I tap on “Comfortably numb”

Over the next few days the process of tapping continues and Steve and David the workshop leaders continue to explain, demonstrate and provide space for us to see and feel provocative therapy and tapping in practice.

There is much laughing and crying and even a few shocked faces at the sometimes irreverent use of language and provocation.

We tap on ourselves and even on each other, united in a shared experience, slowly moving towards acceptance of our dark side, of those parts of ourselves that we don’t want to own, that we all struggle with at times.

Tapping, and particularly this intuitive SET (Simple Energy Techniques) form combined with PET (Provocative Therapy) might not be for everyone, but it makes a lot of sense to me, and I have seen its powerful, long lasting effects.

It works in part I think because it acknowledges and makes space for the internal struggle that is set in place when we don’t accept what is. It does not require you to “talk about” your problem (issue, challenge or goal) but rather notice the thoughts, feelings or sensations which are present when your problem shows up.

Research done by Steve and David www.eftdownunder.com suggests that tapping on its own is enough to bring about some positive shifts in energy (the simple finger tapping they teach most men in particular is unobtrusive and may function in a similar way to the “worry beads” that many cultures and religions use. Combined with the Provocative part which gives voice to the unspeakable thoughts that serve to block energy and compromise wellbeing it is a very economical, efficacious and enabling technique that can be used as a form of self help or utilised by a skilled therapist to help resolve more complex blockages.

What particularly appeals to me is that you can’t do it wrong! You simply tap on what you are aware of; a thought, a feeling, a sensation and simply notice what happens. For example, I was having real difficulty trying to decide whether to send an email or not. I tapped on “I don’t know what to do”. After a few minutes I felt a really strong sharp back pain (something completely foreign to me) and a feeling of anger. A number of memories and thoughts surfaced too. I just continued to tap on what I noticed and there was a release of some long stored emotion that I was not even aware of. Afterwards I felt much “lighter” and it was as if space had been created in my physical and energy body and some new ideas, thoughts and options became apparent.

I have met some really lovely people on this tapping journey. What has most impressed me is the lack of ego I have felt and the congruence between what people say and what they do. There is a generosity and sharing in this community that I have not felt elsewhere. Of course I am sure, that like all communities, there will be lots of different personalities with different goals. Perhaps I have yet to meet the ones operating from ego or fear. For now, I am just happy to keep tapping and keep noticing what happens.

Out and about in Venice

Enoteca in Piazzale Roma is a good spot for coffee, lunch or a pre-dinner drink. We tried local Venetian wines, a Cabernet Lison DOC and Merlot Lison Doc Toni Bipai  Azienda Apric. Seriously good. 

Tonono in Ca de Preti is the oldest patisserie in Venice and you can smell the delicious aromas before you enter. It’s a place where the locals hang out. Stand at the bar with them, have a coffee and bite into a mouth watering sugar and carb filled treat.

Gam Gam www.jewishvenice.org in the Old Jewish Ghetto is a place to share good food with friends. The appetizer plate and traditional hot tea are particularly good.

Accommodation

We stayed at Casa D’Andrea http://www.casasantandrea.it/struttura.htm which was a lovely old building in a good location, but I would not recommend it.

* Provocative Therapy http://www.provocativetherapy.com/ is a unique approach developed by Frank Farrelly and Steve and David have combined aspects of it into their own approach.

Passed by Prague...

Travel tickets and memorabilia  

not much I understand

travelling toward Praha (Prague)

Says it all...

Busker in Prague

stepping into a fairy tale

or maybe an old movie

the dancing building (inspired by Fred Astaire)

The train is pulling out of the station. I’ve stayed in Prague less than less than 20 hours and I am so glad I am coming back, because it seems like a magical place.

(From 10^th to 14^th of December I have booked an apartment in Prague near the centre of the old city where the famous Christmas markets will be held. A Czech friend I met in Hong Kong is going to join me for one day and I am looking forward to this “Christmassy experience”. It’s one more thing on my “bucket list” that I will be able to cross off).

At the moment I am heading to a small village called Horni Jeleni about 2 hours away where I will stay overnight with Adam, a friend of an old friend before heading back through Prague, Munich and Salzburg on my way to Venice. (I later find out this is actually NOT the most direct route, with the least train changes that I had requested. I will eventually arrive in Venice after 4 train changes, one at 1.18 am and 19+ hours of travel!)

But it is still a much more comfortable ride than my first long trip when I was 18 from the north to the south of Italy in tourist class, and not quite as traumatic as “that” Indian bus trip, but pretty close!

 This trip is part of my “train journey” experience and yesterday I enjoyed the 5 hours travelling alongside a river all the way from Germany to the Czech Republic.

The landscape didn’t change. We passed forests of beech trees and birch in shades of brown, orange, yellow and green, but once when I looked up to see the name of the train station and saw its unfamiliar script I knew I had crossed an invisible border and started to notice the subtle differences, the tell tale signs of an economically  poorer place.  

George, my taxi driver in Prague was skinny, serious and young and he charged me 200 instead of the 300 Czech Crowns (about 15AUD) that I had been quoted when he took me to my accommodation at The Cloister Inn Hotel and when I walked around the old city later, I felt like I had stepped into a fairytale with castles, ancient clock towers and turrets at every turn.

I caught up with Filippo and Michaela, (the couple I met in Amsterdam) Filippo’s mum and a friend for soup and drinks at Nostress a cosy eatery near the centre. Later Michaela and I walked and talked along the river and when I got back to my hotel at 12.30am I booked a wake up call for 6 as I had to catch an early train.

I reach the platform with a few minutes to spare but there are 2 trains waiting and I am not sure which direction to go. I call out Chocen (pronounced Hotsien) and a lady grabs my bag and motions me to follow her and I drag my heavy suitcase onto the train and get on board just before the train lumbers out of the station.

Chocen is about 15 kms from Horni Jeleni (really!)the small village where Adam lives. His old Skoda hugs the narrow road and we pull up in front of a huge house. It is centrally heated and has all the mod cons and I have my own room and bathroom (later I get a guided tour of the many other guest rooms and living areas). The restoration and modernisation of the 450 year old house full of antique furniture and antique paintings, hunting trophies and latest electronic appliances and gadgets feels oddly uncluttered, perhaps because of the enormous rooms and very high ceilings. Sadly, it was a project that was cut short when Adam’s partner of 20 years passed away unexpectedly. The rooms that were meant to host lots of family and friends are empty and I can see that he has lost enthusiasm for completing the task.

Adam is a gracious host, with a sharp mind, a love of red wine (Thank you for the very good drop of Austrian wine, the velvety smooth 2008 Hahn Cabernet Sauvignon you generously shared with me) and a wicked sense of humour. He looks like an old Uni professor especially as he pores over the Suduko puzzles that he has become addicted to solving. I really enjoy my time with this interesting “nobleman” and storyteller who owns a castle and 1000 hectares of forest! and when he drops me off at the train station the next afternoon I even get a bear hug. (Don’t worry Adam your story about that trip on the Orient Express with a certain “air- hostess” is safe with me!)

                             ________________________________________

I am having a hot chocolate at Prague train station while I am waiting for my first connection, when a man starts speaking to me in Czech (I think) and I gather he wants to share my table. I smile and nod and motion for him to sit he breaks into a long animated story. I interrupt him and explain that I don’t understand and he nods, but that doesn’t deter him. He continues for the next 10 minutes talking to me, asking questions and telling me something very interesting without me understanding a single word! “Sorry, I don’t understand and I have to go now” I say when I see that my train has finally been assigned a platform number.

“Bye Bye”.

“Bye Bye” He replies, still talking and smiling…

Mmmm He obviously doesn’t know that you need two people to have a conversation. It would have been interesting to know what he was thinking and saying! 

                   __________________________________________

It’s pitch black at 6.15 pm and I can’t see anything out of the train. No one speaks English but I think I’ve worked out that the train I am on, that I thought was going direct to Munich, isn’t and I am going to have to get off in an hour or so and change to another train. A hulk of a man with a few correct words of English hoists my heavy suitcase above his head to the luggage storage rack above, as if it is weightless and asks me to “give me ticket”.

He seems to be barking at me, but is actually very kind. Taking me under his wing and gruffly telling me “I will help”. We sit in silence for the next 2 hours and then he seems to startle.

“Prepare yourself now please” he says parsimoniously, and strides off with my suitcase, going out of his way to ensure I am safely on my connecting train, and with that he grabs my hand in a beefy handshake and strides away, my tentative Dekjeme (Thank you) hardly audible in the loud silence of night.  

                   ______________________________________________

My last sector on this trip to Venice, is Salzburg to Venice.

I arrive at Salzburg station with only 10 minutes to catch the next train. The long platform is empty with no signs to indicate where to go. There are no rail personnel around, or locals to ask.

“Venezia”, I call out, as much to reassure myself as to expect a reply.

A couple of young people duck around from a train and repeat Venezia. We race along the platform calling out Venezia as the minutes tick closer to departure time.

Finally a conductor on our previous train who had originally ignored us points lazily across to the furthest platform. My companions dash off and leave me struggling down and up 2 flights of stairs until breathless I manage to climb aboard what I hope is the right train.

It is 1.34 am and the train slides out of the station as I try not to disturb my companion in the lower bunk. I don’t bother to change- there is hardly room to move- I just take off my boots, climb the ladder and slide under the covers in the darkness and listen to the comforting sounds of the train making its way to my next destination.  

village where I spent time with a real gentleman

he picked me up from the station

just as well as I would not have found my way

and then he dropped me off again

and this is what I saw while I was there

lakes

autumn leaves

his local church and house

wildlife

dead wild life

and stunning mornings

Appreciating another Amsterdam ...

Spot the narrowest house in Amsterdam. Look up between the red and blue car.

The Central train station

This young man may not be really levitating

but he earned his substantial donations as he kept this pose for over an hour!

The show never stops

the "coffee shops" are full

there's something for everyone

the shoppers

and the serious folk

and the artists

and the boaties

and the cycists

and those who love to get up and walk around in the morning when there's no one around

and have the whole square almost to themeselves

Amsterdam is all you know about her...and more!

I wake up at 3am and lie there listening to the silence which is surprising given that I am right across the road from Central Station in Amsterdam, just a short walk from the Dam and red light district and I know that outside the streets are overflowing with people that seem to spew out from the train station and be carried by a wave of human energy straight into the sex, drugs and human connection and disconnection that is on offer.

But here I smell and see and hear none of it, not the sweet, cloying aroma of cannabis, mixed with the smell of fat chips lathered in ketchup and mayo, not the neon lights, or bars lined with patrons drinking beer and hoping to get lucky, nor the girls looking out at the parade of gawking or indifferent faces that stroll past their windows, nor the incessant chatter of people having fun. 

I lie in my silent room, in my clean, comfortable bed with soft pillows and flat screen TV with channels in 10 languages and I feel safe, wrapped up in my little warm cocoon.

I booked into the Park Plaza Victoria hotel, a grand old lady directly across from Central Station (www.parkplaza.com/amsterdam) after trying for two days to get a room in every 3 star and b and b in the city.

Although it is expensive, it was a good decision as it’s 2 minutes from the train station and a short walk to all the attractions. The staff is extremely professional and helpful and I can’t fault the room or the hotel services.

Earlier I had ventured out and started to explore the streets and canals of the old town, but soon I headed back partly because I was hungry and partly because I felt out of place, neither looking for anything, nor available, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the energy of the swelling crowds.

A bowl of fresh soup warms my body and spirit and I enjoy the view from the café and settle into a corner to read my guide and plan my stay. A guy dressed in black with lots of piercings and tattoos, long hair and greasy skin sits alongside me and orders in Dutch. He asks for extra bread and hardly stops to breathe as he devours a plate piled high with food with at least 3 runny eggs sitting on the top. 

I’m heading back to the hotel when I spot a curious crowd. A young man dressed in monks’ robes with a bandana masking his identity sits crossed legged IN THE AIR ….with one hand in prayer pose and one holding a thin staff that sits on a small mat about 3 feet below him. I catch my mind processing the amazing scene and wonder what the trick is. The crowd is growing. People stop to take photos, many with frowns or confused looks on their faces. Some curious children even pass their hand underneath him checking for what is keeping him suspended in the air. Later I found the answer on You Tube (look up “The secret to Yogi Levitation revealed”) Even though most of the crowd thinks it is a clever trick, nearly everyone stops to put money in his hat without even being asked. I am curious as to why.  It seems we more readily hand over money for a good trick, than when someone demonstrates great musical ability or physical strength or dexterity. I think the answer is in our mind’s wish to be entertained. Clearly, we are willing to pay for our curiosity to be piqued.

Day 2

It’s late for me to be walking but outside it is still quite dark. A few locals on their way to work and a street sweeper are my only company for a while.

I enjoy walking along the still quiet and empty streets; even the usually crowded Dam Square is still deserted. This time of the morning, the city is mine. Even the locals are too busy going to work to really notice her, to appreciate how beautiful she looks as she is waking up and being groomed, to inhale her fragrance and appreciate her fine lines and unique shape and energy. I walk past some market stalls being set up and something personal comes to mind, an old memory linked to another city bathed in early morning light. Curious I watch the emotion rise in my body, like a dark stain spreading out from my heart and reaching a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I decide to tap, to acknowledge and release the feelings and memories that have come up, a long forgotten story, but a familiar theme. I hardly notice the people waiting for an early tour that must be wondering what I am doing muttering to myself and tapping on the side of my hand!

And I realise that I don’t care what they think and that makes me smile and I am grateful to be here, now, welcoming a brand new day.

                   _____________________________________________

Breakfast at the Victoria Hotel is a civilised affair with a good selection of hot and cold dishes, English newspapers and decent coffee. I am looking forward to doing the free tour www.newamsterdamtours.com.

I glance up and a tall guy on his own at the next table has a plate piled high with pastries. When I look up again just a few minutes later he has eaten them all and I am so surprised I make a comment.

He is Norwegian, born in Amsterdam, now living in Norway but educated in Texas. I am so absorbed in the conversation that before I know it I have to check out and go on my tour, and when I get up to leave he seems disappointed and looks for his card to give me his details.

I am about to take out a pen and paper, and then I don’t. It’s kind of nice just savouring an enjoyable connection without wanting more.

                   __________________________________________________

The crowd waiting to do the free tour is so big that we are split into 3 smaller groups of about 20. I hang out with Filippo (an Italian photographer http://filippo.falcinelli.net and engineer and his Czech girlfriend Michaela, a journalist while we are waiting. They live in Prague and when I tell them it’s my next stop they offer to show me their city. That’s what happens when you travel. Each stranger is potentially your next friend. 

                   _____________________________________________

David our young tour guide is a well travelled Swede who has called Amsterdam home for a year. He is a good storyteller with a commanding presence and is passionate about wanting us to experience and know Amsterdam as more than the place for prostitutes and “coffee shops”. Three hours later we are convinced, having criss-crossed her streets and discovered some of her treasures and secrets.

Later, I stand in line for almost an hour, but I’m happy to wait to see the “secret annex” where Anne Frank and her family hid for 2 years and where she wrote her famous diary. As a teenager who loved writing and felt a lot of her own growing pains Anne’s story fascinated me, but it was the bigger themes, examples of human kindness, bravery and betrayal that really captured my attention. Walking up the extremely steep stairs behind the bookcase that hid the secret annex, reading Anne’s words on the walls and seeing the footage being played, I could really imagine the horror of living through that time in history and I am glad there are places like Anne Frank’s house that remind us of just how lucky some of us really are.

                             ___________________________________

So I spent a lot of money on a Eurail pass (10 days travel in 2 months) because I wanted a “train trip” experience and it seemed a good idea at the time. The helpful man at the Eurail office patiently costed out some trips I wanted to do and convinced me that it was good value for money. (I wanted to see Amsterdam, Berlin and Prague needed to get to Venice, Florence and Rome to pick up a small bag I left there and maybe go to Zurich) but now I am wondering if it was worth it.

The pass is for first class travel, BUT, here’s the catch for new players, if there is no seat available you have to you down to tourist class (not very comfortable for overnight or long distance travel AND you still have to pay reservation costs and extras for fast trains or sleepers, and you never know what seat you are going to get. So, here I am at 7.20pm travelling on the overnight train from Amsterdam to Berlin and I am on the top bunk of a 3 sleeper room in second class (not good if you have to get up to pee during the night like me, and the train is full so I can’t change seats. Oh well! It could always be worse.

Update and tip: I had to wait until the last major stop at about 11pm, but be nice to the conductor and talk about a non specific medical condition that makes you visit the bathroom regularly and you might end up getting a cabin to yourself like I did! It was only a few hours, and I didn’t really sleep, but it was bliss lying down and not having to share with anyone!

Bowled over by Berlin...

arriving early am

my room at the Motel One

stunning cathedrals

early morning walk

love the autumnal colours!

modern architecture

there's a glass dome on their government house -reminding the law makers of the need to be transparent

Brandenburg gate

Adlon Hotel -the site of Michael Jackson's baby over the balcony incident

the holocaust memorial 

what's left of the wall

churches and opera houses

memorial for all women who have lost children

Arriving from Amsterdam to Berlin on the overnight train, my first impression is of a futuristic sprawling city, its uber new Central train station a huge silver masterpiece of engineering and architecture.

But when I do the obligatory walking tour www.newberlintours.com

later that day, I see that she is so much more, a mix of East and West, old and new, memorials, museums, cathedrals, galleries, vast open spaces, modern avenues and alternative areas with eclectic energy.

I book into motel one, www.motel-one.com which is a short walk from the train station and I am so grateful when they let me check in straight away.

I join the free walking tour at 11am outside Starbucks at the Brandenburg gate aptly led by David, a Brit who loves his adopted home. For 3 hours we walk this amazing city, stopping at most of the significant attractions including the Berlin Wall, Checkpoint Charlie-so named because it is the 3^rd entry point from East to West- (Charlie is the third letter of the phonetic alphabet after Alpha and  Bravo) the gendarmenmarkt, Unter Den Linden and Hotel Adlon, the expensive hotel (15,000 Euros a night for the Presidential suite)! where Michael Jackson famously dangled his child from the balcony, Freidrichstrasse, the holocaust memorial and the island of museums.

We even stand over the bunker where Hitler holed up and eventually committed suicide. It’s now under a car park in a residential area, a small information plaque nearby is the only indicator that anything of significance is buried underneath us.

Throughout his engaging storytelling David brings this city to life, gives her shape and helps us to understand the complex history that contributes to her identity.

I meet Ivan on the tour. He is a gorgeous German man, and a judge in the family court, visiting Berlin for a funeral, and attending a course nearby. Professionally he has the unenviable task of making legal judgements about the custody of children after often bitter and complex relationship break-ups; personally he has visited concentration camps and tried to make sense of the senseless extermination of so many lives and yet he is neither broken nor defensive about a history that is part of his DNA. Long after we say goodbye I can conjure up his face and it makes me smile and I am very grateful that we met.

                   ______________________________________

I hate eating salad at the best of times. No matter how much I try, I just can’t manage to do it elegantly. I either miss my mouth, or manage to get some of the oily dressing on myself. So imagine how hard it would be for me to do it in total darkness!

I have booked into the Unsicht bar and restaurant http://www.unsicht-bar-berlin.de/unsicht-bar-berlin-v2/en/html/home_1_idea.html a unique experience where you eat in total darkness, served by staff who are blind or have partial sight and where you choose from 5 menus which are simply labelled vegetarian, poultry, fish, meat or “surprise”. The vegetarian entrée for example is described as

“A taste of Aztecan masculinity on a very green, and voluptuous red bedding”

(sliced avocado marinated in lime juice, with field greens and tomato)   

I am looking forward to the opportunity to practice being mindful while trying something new.

When I arrive my order is taken (this bar area is lit normally) and I am asked to remove anything that might in any way illuminate a totally dark room like watches or mobile phones.

While I wait on my own to be escorted into the dining room, I am more than a little anxious and a lot of questions cross my mind; Will I bump into things, knock over my glass of wine, spill things on myself, manage to eat, cope with the experience without making a fool of myself??

By the time my waiter Marcus greets me I have calmed myself down. “At least no one will see me” I think to myself.

Marcus asks me to put my hands on his shoulders and I follow him into the pitch black room. He takes my hand and gently guides me into my seat and tells me what is on the table and where and then moves away and leaves me on my own.

It is a strange, disconcerting experience to be totally in the dark. I am on my own, surrounded by people speaking German, and I have no idea when, what and how I will eat.

Judy Killen a childhood friend who was blind and went on to become a physiotherapist comes to mind. She and I used to spend hours in the garden and I would ask Judy to guess the colours of things. Judy had a way of cocking her head slightly as if tuning in to her surroundings and she would always get it right. To this day, I don’t know how. I find myself cocking my head slightly to try to tune in to what is going on around me, but unlike Judy I can’t even guess how big the room is or how the staff don’t bump into each other and only hear Marcus when he is gently whispering in my ear that he is back with my food.

I trace the outline of the plate with my hands and feel around for my knife and fork and napkin. I move the glass that Marcus has also brought me out of the way and make a mental note of its position.

I tentatively move my fingers over the plate to try to work out what is on it and groan when I realise it is some sort of salad. The only way I can eat is to use my left hand to guide the food onto my fork! There is a sweet mayonnaise style dressing on the leaves and I manage to get a few forkfuls into my mouth, when my mouth closes on a succulent morsel of seafood which is a real surprise. I manage to find 2 more bits before I finish.

I am waiting for a long time between courses. Marcus tells me later that there are only 5 staff for over 100 customers and I hear him clicking his fingers from time to time –perhaps a way of communicating with his colleagues about his location? My main course when it finally comes is also fish with some sort of vegetable risotto. I am a little disappointed in the food, which is rather stodgy, with little aroma. But dessert when it arrives is sensational. A kind of passionfruit cream brulee in a sealed pot, with some fresh stewed berries and a small biscuity cake on the side. I can smell it, and feel it and taste it and it is glorious.

I am glad that I had the experience, but am in no great hurry to repeat it. What made it particularly difficult was being on my own, without being able to understand what was being said and I realise how much you miss out on when you are unable to see and understand what is being said around you. I would love to try this exercise with a loved one, or with friends and with really good food. But for now, I am simply even more grateful and appreciative for the amazing gift of sight!

                             ___________________________________________

In silence is embedded the marvellous power of clarification, purification and concentration on essentials 

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Just underneath the Brandenburg gate is a small sign marking the silent room.

Modelled on a similar room in the United Nations Building in New York, it has a dual purpose. The first to provide a place where anyone regardless of background, colour, ideology, religion, and physical condition can remain in silence for a while, relax and meditate and secondly it serves as a symbol of tolerance, a reminder against violence and xenophobia, a small step towards peace and spiritual unity.

The room’s decoration is neutral and simple. A woven wall hanging by Hungarian artist Ritta Hager symbolises light penetrating darkness.

If you are in Berlin. It’s worth a stop.

www.raum-der-stille-im-brandenburger-tor.de

 

                   ___________________________________________

I am watching the flat screen TV in my room but it’s not a TV program. It’s a film of a log fire burning in a fireplace. The flames lick and slowly consume the burning logs and I watch mesmerised, listening to the sound of the logs crackling. It is so realistic that I actually feel warm, even though there is no heating in the room!

I am just about to check out and catch a train to Prague.

My fire is still crackling and I listen and watch for a while reluctant to move from my comfortable space.

Even while you are having adventures you can get lazy...

Ok better go…I have a date with a 90 year old Count!

the silent room Brandenburg gate

my fake fire... it looked and sounded real...