On the road again ...

An intense week interbeing. .. experiential learning, though talk on the train to Bordeaux soon returned to second hand teachings with normal conversational patterns of throwing out references to various poets and teachers ... helpful to study, but the first hand experiences are the real learning ... Findhorn uses the same approach ... Plum feeling like a second spiritual home ...

At the station in Bordeaux it becomes clear that trains to Hendaye are fully booked ... helpful tourist info folks arm me with a map, and a wander to the centre of town and a tram takes me through the city and suburbs to suitable hitchhiking territory, where two people soon stop to apologise for only going a short way... some walking leads me to Eric's mobile fish and chip van La Manche et Ster ... a nice jeu de mot and a tasty stereotypical lunch ... more walking establish a new standing place, though no lifts until a friendly young aircraft technician takes me a few kilometres to a better place on a slip road to the motorway to Spain ... and after twenty minutes Lionel, a sales manager with Cadbury, stops and offers a lift to Biarritz. .. a swift ride with good conversation and after walking to the station, a few kilometres from the centre of the very expensive and pretentious town, thinking to continue to Hendaye ... the Auberge de Jeunesse intervenes ... time to slow down, shower, write a little ... plenty of time to enjoy a wander along the coast in the morning, collect pilgrim credentials in Hendaye, ready for Spain on Sunday ....

Plums ...

Having mostly segregated from females for most of the week, integration is achieved by busing Upper Hamlet chaps and Lower Hamlet women to New Hamlet, where it is women and couples ... and the eponymous plum trees ...

A wonderful Dharma Talk from Thay, recorded in 2012, very deep and modern ... all to be found on You Tube ... Thay himself is recovering from his stroke of two years ago ...

Informative chats with Frank, from Germany living in Switzerland ... David from Sweden, just starting the 5 year programme of ordination, after which he plans to disrobe and rejoin the world, hopefully fully enlightened ....Francois from Nantes, retired psychotherapist, also on the path to ordination, though it is life for him ... Eric from Germany via the US military, with his perspective on the demolition of the Twin Towers (a political discussion polarizing rather than transcending duality).. and a reunion with the beautiful young folks first encountered at St Foy la Grande waiting for the bus to the various sites of Plum Village ... Sara, from Faro, of Italian parents, living in London and Sacha from London via Russia ... both resonating with the intentional community in Portugal plan ...

Connection with single women not sought or found ... celibacy still the route, though not necessarily as a precept ... just to embrace the way things are ... the Universe provides what is needed day by day ... tomorrow maybe train and bus to Hendaye since accommodation along the walking route to the Pyrennees looks very expensive ...

Some unexpected information about folks occasionally aspiring to the Path of Interbeing, agreeing to the precepts and generally expected behaviour, and relapsing into old habits ... soon moved on and another issue in the delicate art of community building ...

The week draws to a close ... some already departed, some leaving in the morning, some staying another week, others longer ... a relaxed supper, talking allowed, with Andrew, on angels, travelling, life in general. .. tomorrow to Hendaye ... maybe

A short circuit ...

Another early sit ... touching the Earth ... good breakfast and over the wire to Trenac (an in joke for a friend who dubbed this place Buddlitz)... breaking in the shoes before Friday's return to serious walking ... which has been in mind far too much considering that living in the present moment is the core teaching and Plum Village is the perfect place to practice it ... a gorgeous sunrise, mist laying in pockets below ... loving the return to the rhythm of walking ... 5 km per hour and not to be confused with Mindful Walking, which is much slower ... the circuit loops round, past vineyards, fields of sunflowers and maize ... and back via Son Ha temple ... road signs indicating nearly 10 km, but the walk was little over an hour ... time for an informative chat with Alain from France ... offering a new perspective on the geopolitics of Europe ... to set alongside the narrative of Northern European neo-colonialism ...

A group viewing of Thay's talk in Lower Hamlet in 2014 on Resurrection. .. then time for a shower before Mindful Walking and Lunch ... two silent activities with a brief conversation with Andrew from Ireland on things philosophical between ... after lunch a second warm connection with Sergio, Portuguese seeker, sometime corporate then academic slave in the damp lowlands of Cambridge  ... to discuss projects in Portugal, of course ... in general, how to re-imagine the world, specifically Portugal and the depopulated interior ... intentional, multi-generational, multi-cultural communities with a core secular and inclusive spirituality ... Thay has a lovely vision of such communities as an evolutionary progression in human consciousness ... group thought and action ... community as entity ... and yes, his wording may not include "secular" ... though the Order of Interbeing is light touch and inclusive ... albeit with monks and nuns in robes, rituals and the rest. ..

Dodging mindful working, after a hot shift with the weeds yesterday ... the blog calling in case anyone is reading ... anyway it helps to crystallise the thoughts ... and writer role, along with pilgrim, ready to take the stage ...

As Friday approaches the route South West becomes clearer ... walking direct from here to Pellegrue ... St Foy being an unnecessary dog-leg ... already thinking of cheese and eggs ... some bodily indications of the dietary change ... maybe iron or B12 vitamin deficiency, for which the resident community takes supplements ... according to Eddie, sometime editor with the BBC (British Bullshit Corporation), who has spent a year here, getting Thay's talks online ... a gift for the world ....

Interbeing. ..

After yesterday's leisure it was back to the programme ... 6 am ceremonial presentation of the 14 Mindfulness Trainings of the Order of Interbeing ... founded by Thich Nhat Hanh ... a contemporary Zen school ... breakfast at 7.30 ... Total Relaxation or Body Scan in English and French from two Australian monks at 9.30, followed with three Touching the Earth practises. .. beautifully done with a light touch and Oz humour ... a tea break, then Mindful Walking ... one of Thay's specialities ... a line of thirty or so, silently walking along the woodland paths, a silent sit with the black buddhas ... returning in time for lunch, taken in silence ... if you like a good natter, maybe not the best venue for you ...

Working meditation in the afternoon enabled conversation with co-workers, as we lifted the weeds from the cracks in the slabs by the Dharma Hall ... others were picking figs for jam, making compost, raking leaves, helping at nearby Happy Farm ...

Plenty to learn here, though not tempted to extend the stay ... some walking south from St Foy la Grande is calling ... maybe some hitchhiking and bus trips too, since the marked route goes to St Jean Pied de Port and the Camino del Norte starts at Hendaye or Irun. ..

Around Plum Village ...

...Upper Hamlet, to be precise ... quiet road, giving access to marked footpaths through vineyards, past chateaux and prosperous houses ... no sign of peasant dwellings so far, though someone is doing the work, automated grape-picking machines notwithstanding ... all notable for an absence of fences ...

Today is Lazy Day ... part of the mind stretching design to have it on a Monday, the day of dread for weekday slaves ... and slightly weird, since there is no "busy" with which to contrast it, since the whole  pace of the place is relaxed, everything optional ...

An afternoon wander ends up fortuitously at the Mairie, where the official finds the Camino route from St Foy la Grande and prints it out ... suggesting a two week walk to St Jean Pied de Port ... requiring some amendments to switch to the Northern route across Spain ... all in good time ...  things may change before Friday ...

Outside of the silence some interesting characters appear ... a Liberian retired general,  US ex-army intelligence officer, Australian estate agent, Belgian environment agency official, Irish IT consultant ... the female retreatants are kept in a separate hamlet, to aid in the resistance to fleshly desires, along with the vegan diet ... which it turns out is not a rule for the monks and nuns who may eat dairy products ... though one announced yesterday that he had renounced milk and cheese after realising the inextricable link between the dairy industry and animal suffering and killing ...

The rituals are interesting to observe ... the balance between structure and freedom examined ... the Buddhist ethos filtering committed boozers, fornicators, drug takers, corpse eaters and angry people ... though many retreatants may have come along specifically to try to deal with those issues ... as for your blogger, anger is not a problem, cigarette addiction was overcome some years ago, alcohol is under control, mammal corpses abandoned long since, though fish still tempts, along with eggs and cheese ... each to their own path ...

At Plum Village ...

Like Buddhism itself, Plum Village is many layered ... kindly the visitors are mostly left to discover the place for themselves, with some clues from time to time about what is going on ... a basic programme starting at 6 am ... a vegan diet ... lots of noble silence ... a chance to pay attention to the food you're eating ... which is delicious ... a chiming clock and a ritual of stopping whatever you are doing when it sounds ... along with random bells also to be observed ... all designed to bring us back to the present moment ....

When eating, eat ... when walking, walk ... when listening, listen ... when talking, talk ... and if you have nothing to say, say that ...

The teaching is simple enough and mostly practical ... this morning's Dharma Talk apparently quite witty ... based on the laughter of the nun next to me ... it was in Vietnamese and the technology enabling simultaneous translation failed ...

Research will reveal more, but this is a serious enterprise ... three linked locations here in the Dordogne ... organic farm ... resident sangha, many from Vietnam ... Ireland too ... lots of visitors on one or two week retreats ... the extensive countryside around designated hunting free ... tame magpies taking advantage ... all done with a light touch  ... no pressure to attend anything ...

First impressions ... some very interesting folks ... and a link to the Camino de Santiago close by ... research needed to see if Friday's walk starts here or by train to Irun from Bordeaux ...

L'expaterie

The life of a Brit expat in rural France is examined at first hand here in the interior, far from cities, the charming Chamberet, a small town 45 minutes stroll away, the hamlet quiet, the few French neighbours apparently pleased to see the deserted house back in use, the lonely old lady happy to have someone with whom to talk ... even a foreigner struggling to sustain a conversation ... a liveable  house, seventies style, formica finished furniture, lino floored, two bedrooms plus roof space and ruins to develop, generous garden for 45,000 euros ...

Such places are to be found all around France ... Spain and Portugal too ... reasonable land, solid buildings, friendly neighbours ... just lacking employment and maybe the delights of cities preferred by the escaping former residents.

This life is far removed from the Costa experience ... though the costa living, as shown through the coffee indicator (2.40 for cafe au lait being double the Tubalita price) is higher... research needed, of course, since coffee is not the only indicator and the purchase price of land and buildings is much less ... the climate another factor, with proper winters here ... whatever that means ...

Meanwhile your blogger is enjoying the transition from solitude to the temporary company of a friend, conversing in English interspersed with French, before a week of community life with the Buddhists. .. then a long wander ... maybe, let's see ...

Escape along the Costa ...

With neither joy or sorrow, the crumbling Casa was left behind ... a strange energy, maybe influenced by the overhead wires and their field and strong WiFi at the front of the house ... sleeping quarters less so, long mornings walking, not at all (except those ubiquitous mobile phone fields, of course) ... a farewell to Poppy, who turned her back ... she will be happier with Russ, who brushes and strokes her ... I never took to her, though fed and watered her, cleaned her litter tray. .. warmer goodbyes from Russ and Susie, then on the bus to Estepona, a connection to Fuengirola and the nature of the coast changed ... more built up, more Anglified ... the train to Malaga and city energy rather draining ... escape to the airport to settle in for the evening and night ...

Good to feel the weight of the rucksack on my back again ... and having left laptop, books, clothes at the Casa to have a comfortable load, already thinking about further sifting ... with no plans for a return to San Enrique, surplus stuff is soon forgotten and the lightness of having all my stuff on my back is liberating ... and funds to supplement as required, of course ... a sleeping bag probably worth buying ... recalling hostels without blankets last time ...

The airport not the most comfortable place to spend the night ...a special brew crew camped on the concourse, an interesting subset of hippiedom, addicted to alcohol, tobacco and who knows what else, heading for Tarifa, the chap told me as he asked for 6 euros for his bus fare and rather hurt when I laughed, genuinely amused at the old bus fare story... raising questions also for the intentional community building and what to do with freeloaders ... an early flight, switching to French ... prematurely as it turned out ... the passenger sitting next to me was Spanish ...  an hour or so in relative comfort in which to sleep ... a train from Bordeaux to Limoges with more time and comfort for sleep ... and Colin there to greet me and drive the hour to Ciblat, the quiet hamlet where he passes summers now his days in public service around Durham are over ... musical culture in nearby Chamberet in the evening ... literary culture in a damp Chamberet this morning ... a chance to speak some French with helpless authors, trapped behind tables loaded with their creations ... then some advanced philosophical investigation with Colin on the nature of power in general ... Durham County Council in particular ...

The Brit expat life in France is examined a little ... compared to that along the Costa ... a subject for further exploration ... meanwhile, here's Ciblat on a drizzly day ...

Autumn ...

Arriving in Spring, lazing through Summer, leaving as Autumn begins ... Tubalitas has been a theme ... a coffee stop on the 2 hour cross country walk ... Teresa, a friendly barista, soon aware of the regular order ... an encounter over several days with an English couple, Ann and Alan, both from forces backgrounds ... finding areas of agreement ... always possible ... which triggers a thought stream from a Facebook post from another ex-forces Alan, this one a friend from Stanhope, always warm and helpful ... political views set aside in order to enable it ... the post a video from an international athletics event, the USA pole vaulter ostensibly fully focused on clearing the bar and reaching top speed when the Star Spangled Banner struck up ... like Pavlov's dog, he stopped on autopilot, stood to attention, hand on heart ... fully conditioned ... worrying to me, but apparently praiseworthy to my friend and thousands of "likers" ... critical comment on FB briefly considered, the opportunity to propose alternative words, the Blood Spattered Banner maybe ... pointless on reflection, possibly coming from my own conditioning from a communist youth ...

As a student, in the dawning of the Age of Aquarius, as well as embracing peace and love, an urgent need to act against perceived evils in Vietnam, Latin America and the junior partner role of no longer so great Britain, falling into the fallacy that means and ends could be separated, this penitent ex-communist visited the USA via Camp America, an organisation offering free flights, bed and board, plus two weeks holiday at the end, in exchange for working on a children's summer camp ... as soccer counsellor ... the daily flag raising ceremony was observed with amusement, but after two weeks, when the whole camp was divided arbitrarily into four teams, red, yellow, green and blue, all activities scoring points in a competition called Colour War ... or more correctly Color War ... our little team in the cabin cared for by Joel and me was split up, carefully nurtured cohesion shattered so that the American Way could be embedded in impressionable minds ... I declined ... earning a reputation as a red and a subsequent warning from the Camp Commandant (known as the Director) to stop sharing socialist ideas with the teenagers ...the land of the free ...

The seasons are more sharply separated here ... days cooler, albeit over 25 degrees, nights comfortable ... ants and mosquitoes taking a break while flies have their turn ... observing the insects has been fascinating and mostly painless .... as for tourists, they mostly arrive in August, when Spain stops work and schools take their holidays. .. the economy here is really two months, maybe two and a half ... meaning the beaches are quiet again ...

It is really feeling like walking weather ... Camino del Norte here we come, via a small hamlet an hour from Limoges ... and an hour from Plum Village Buddhist Centre too .... hmmm

flagellation ...

Following the uncertainty, a message arrives from Britland ... young refugees seeking warmer winters await their landlord's inspection of the flat they are vacating ... a precursor to the sometimes tricky business of recovering the deposit ... one of the games of the curse of private letting, fuelled by property speculation, buy-to-let investors, housing benefit and greed ... and news that they hope to arrive around the 24th of this month .... which spurs your blogger into action ... a kind offer of interim casa and cat care enabling the French connection ...a direct and cheap flight to Bordeaux next Saturday morning and arrival at Ciblat later the same day .... a week or so before the refugees arrive, with even that maybe dragging on ... some unrushed time catching up with regular reader and friend from the north, Colin .... before starting the long walk from Irun to the end of the earth (as the early wanderers perceived it) via Santiago de Compostela ... then south through Portugal for the winter ... maybe a visit to Plum Village Buddhist community near the new location, along the way ... though plans change, of course ...

Reflecting on this summer sojourn in San Enrique, the fine intentions to learn Spanish and study the heavy books brought along for the purpose - David Bohm, J. Krishnamurti, Rupert Sheldrake, Fritjof Capra ... none of which have been accomplished ... and though flagellation is not my style, self-awareness without self-criticism is ... musing upon the laziness, a local philosopher spoke about the Taoist story of the student asking the teacher what he was doing ... Nothing, came the reply ... the next day the same question, and the same answer .... But you were doing nothing yesterday, protested the student ... Yes, I haven't finished yet, was the reply ... doing nothing being an art little practised in busy modern living, where even leisure time is programmed and commoditised ...

The Casa has been a perfect place for doing nothing ... tucked away up a hill with almost no visitors - post has to be collected from Guadiaro, rubbish dropped in communal bins, neighbours friendly and private ... music and television eschewed ... occasional breaks from doing nothing with light reading of detective novels, the internet, writing, visiting the two long time English refugees who have kept me grounded, albeit with some esoteric information ... and plenty of walking, which is perhaps doing nothing in motion ... all of which has relaxed the mind and enabled time itself to change its character ... not easy to explain, so just allow it and maybe try for yourself ...

Five months have passed somehow, without boredom or achievement ... welcome visits from time to time ... much valued correspondents ... fit in body and mind ... ready for the next adventure ... grateful for all of it ... the peaceful pensioner life ...

Embracing uncertainty ...

... and practising patience, the third treasure of the Tao ... compassion and simplicity well under way and patience the one in need of some work .... which arrives in the form of potential incoming replacement housesitters, last heard of a week or so ago, seeking a way of shifting stuff from Sheffield to San Enrique with an estimated arrival mid-September ... but nothing since ...

As the weather is still very warm and dry, the Casa comfortable, rent-free and nearby company congenial, it is no hardship to linger longer .... though friends await news to fit with their own plans ... Colin in France, heading to Berlin this month before returning to delightfully damp Darlington for the winter ... an invitation from Jan in Penamacor, central Portugal, who has friends interested in intentional community living ... an itch to walk the Camino del Norte ... an event in the Western Algarve linked to Noomap 24th and 25th September ... fires raging thereabouts and in central Portugal too ...

Meanwhile, Diogo, a young friend from Portugal has stayed a few days, which has been wonderful ... he and his friends keen on the intentional community idea too ... which gives it so much energy as well as new skills and local knowledge  ... our topic mainly the nature of freedom. .. his next adventure in Croatia with young people from different countries on a year long Erasmus project ...

So, this experiment in freedom continues, with a chapter closing, but no certainty of when, another opening with no certainty of what ... and sometime soon all will be revealed ... with patience the practice if equanimity is to be maintained ...

Gib

Having lived with a view of the Rock since April and never moved to investigate beyond the airport, anglophile friend from Coimbra, Diogo, spending a few days at the Casa between finishing his job at the Aqua Park near Badajoz and starting a one year Erasmus project in Croatia, suggested a visit. He was intrigued by the anachronistic status of this small and highly strategic spot, still part of Britain after 400 years and long a bone of contention with its Spanish neighbour. The border was closed for many years ... at the same time retiring British gangsters were finding extradition free bolt holes along the nearby Costa del Sol ... and mainstream Spanish opinion is looking forward to closing the border again, if and when the UK departs the EU ... though not necessarily harbouring fugitives ... the folks of La Linea being just pawns in the bigger game.

The curious Diogo and your less curious blogger crossed the border easily enough, on foot, and wandered into town, a hybrid of an English pedestrianised shopping street anywhere and a touch of Spain. Another dimension is found by cable car at the top of the Rock, accompanied by throngs of cruise customers from the two big boats in port ... raising the question of cruising as a desirable holiday ... which never appealed or even occurred to me ... at the summit the twin flags offered a backdrop for the photo and the tale of this unusual combination of xenophobia and europhilia exhibited by the Gibbos (the term applied by expat Brits hereabouts ) who voted overwhelmingly to remain in the EU, whilst hanging on to an old image of England and all its traditions of tea and scones, inbred royals and, frankly, a white anglo-saxon populace, neatly arranged in a hierarchical system where everyone knows their place ...

The trip was fine, the view great, the vibe slightly weird and the cooling dip at Alcaidesa on the way home perfect to reconnect with Nature ...

From hell to hell via heaven ...

Having vilified the Sotogrande as a hell realm early in the Casa story, it has always been avoided ... apart from a couple of incursions into the port area for the Sunday market. Since San Enrique is a couple of kilometres from the coast, up the River Guadiaro, and since the bleak urbanisation which is the soulless Sotogrande spreads across the estuary, walking routes have been mainly across the campo to the coast or by car to Torreguadiaro and north away from hell. .. though other urbanisations pop up along the way ... the whole coast is infested with them.

Between the Guadiaro and La Linea is another large suburb called Alcaidesa, and the idea of exploring the coastline popped up, so bravely slipping by the armed guards, I wandered through Soto port, over the bridge and down to the sea ... the beach stretched into the distance and proved perfect for surf walking, firm underfoot and mostly deserted. After an hour or so, turning round the headland, the hollywoodesque vision of Alcaidesa appeared, complete with golf course. ... mission accomplished and with no desire to explore another hell realm, a couple of photos and a short rest was enough ... especially as this turned out to be a gay bay, with early cruising bare chaps offering a slightly predatory vibe ... a shame, since the beach was perfectly placed for a naturist friendly zone, which always appeals to your blogger, whose great pleasure is to swim as nature intended ...

The return was rewarded with a cooling dip and a coffee at the edge of the Soto ... meaning Soto prices ... €2 instead of the Tubalitas €1.20 ...and so back through the overpriced estate, with its mixture of Art Deco and traditional villas, tasteless tat, barrack like flats and look at me yachts ... though this time one or two wandering tourists responded to my greeting and my earlier harsh characterisation is revised, along with  progress in the perception of wealthy and aspiring wealthy folks as equally worthy of compassion as the poor and dispossessed, since all the clutter is really a burden in life and the sometimes snooty behaviour is mostly driven by fear ... which we know is the main obstacle to love ... 

A later encounter with an Irishman, walking a large dog, confirmed the dogalyst effect of canine companions ... before he had the dog, no-one on the urbanisations spoke to him ... now lots do ... via the dog ...

As a linguistic footnote, finding the Spanish word "urbanisation" rather clumsy and the usual English translation "development", bland, maybe we could employ "urbs" as a word? It saves on syllables, suggests suburbs, with all their lifestyle attributes and has a certain grunty sound to it ... hmmm

Dao ... and DAPPS

More synchronicity as synthesis turns up as the Angel for September and DAO has a third meaning ... in the Ethereum world it means  Decentralised Autonomous Organisation ... in blog world it is a river in Portugal and an alternative spelling for Tao, the ancient Chinese philosophy ...

DAPPS in this strange new world are Decentralised Applications, running on Ethereum, self-defined as the Decentralised Web, or Web3 ... or part of it ... critics please note this is a steep learning curve and any corrections, improvements and clarifications are welcome.

The merits of Web 3 are that there are no huge servers controlling the web, making it more democratic as well as enabling direct peer to peer contracting, thus cutting out the expensive brokers currently creaming off value ... big banking is part of all that, which is why the new financial models of Web 3,  are so popular .... and ready to pick up the slack when the next crash of traditional banks hits soon ...

Blogging on here seems rather Web2 to me ... certainly not very interactive ... so let's see how it will work on Ethereum. .. when the Daos and DAPPS are sorted ... maybe integrated with Noomap ...

And all this exciting new paradigm stuff is only one level of the huge changes afoot, so a word of warning. .. cryptography, electricity and all the cyberware is itself vulnerable to attack ... satellites may be disabled, silicon chips melted and so on ... while Noomap aspires to mimic the noosphere, the art of telepathy may be the tool needed in the future ... and self-reliance too ... all the amazing ways to communicate with folks all around the world are no use if we don't have the basics of clean air and water, fresh food and shelter ...

Well, readers may wonder what this is all about, but it is posted provisionally and liable to editing as we all learn more about the Dao ... the Decentralised Autonomous Organisation that is ... we know where the river is and its associated red wine ... and since the Dao that can be explained is not the immortal Dao of ancient wisdom, we had better not start start on that!