Today Jennifer was left speechless.

As we exited the luxury high rise apartment of another hugely wealthy businessman, who had hosted us to a sumptuous breakfast of south Indian cuisine, she turned to me and said: There are very few times when I’m incapable of speech, but now is one of them.

What made her speechless?

Let me explain:

The man we had breakfast with is a very successful businessman. One of his many holdings is a luxury five star hotel complex on the beach at Juhu – prime real estate estimated to be worth in excess of US$5b.

He also owns tv stations and finance companies and sundry other investments.

He started with nothing and he told us this morning that he’s used his intuition to get to where he is now. When I showed him my sizzle reel for PGS, he was deeply affected. And immediately said he wanted to invest.

Tomorrow we’re to meet the head of his tv channel to further discuss – but in the meantime he’s lining up interviews for us with some real heavy hitters, including Bikram Chowdry (of Bikram Yoga fame) and possibly Deepak Chopra. These are to be done in Los Angeles.

He’s also connected us with one of the world’s great spiritual gurus, Baba Ram Dev, and some key people in Rishikesh, where we’ll be on Friday. Rishikesh is a sacred town on the Ganges.

I told him what the astrologer said – about how I must go to Dallas – and he said it’s true. He’s done the same thing, gone to a place which an astrologer has said he must go, and under the strangest of circumstances he’s accumulated wealth.

Jennifer and I left his apartment with him avowing his support for me, and for the film. And saying that he will accompany us on our further travels around the world too.

I wonder if that means he’s coming to Dallas?

In the afternoon we flew to Delhi, checked into a hotel in Connaught Place, and then went out to meet a researcher who will be doing some work for us on the next stages of the film. A very impressive young man.

We then had dinner with an old friend, the First Assistant Director on THE BEST EXOTIC MARIGOLD HOTEL and ZERO DARK THIRTY. He was 2nd Assistant Director on SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE.

We had a wonderful dinner in a very funky part of Delhi – an artists enclave in an old workers’ colony which has since been gentrified. He provided logistic help for this next stage of the production, and is lining up some key interviewees.

Here’s the thing: I didn’t line anything up before I left home. I just trusted that the right people would come along when I needed them. When the film needed them. I’m making this film by playing by the rules, and the rules are that I’m to be intuitively led.

I’m making this film by trusting that my PGS will guide me to the right people.

And that’s what’s happening.

I left Sydney with just one phone number. That was the number of Dr. Bhatt, who ended up doing my astrological charts, and telling me I had to go to Dallas on November 23rd.

Everything is aligning faster than I could have hoped.

It’s left Jennifer speechless.

Each day gets more and more bizarre.

Today I continued filming with my billionaire friend, who is also an accomplished astrologer. He has lived by his astrological charts – his mathematics, as he calls it – and he has based his business decisions around them too. His stars have led him to immeasurable wealth.

It’s taken him several weeks to do my charts – based on the exact time and location of my birth – and today he gave me the results.

Firstly, he told me in chilling detail what’s unfolded in the past twenty years of my life. Not personal things, things that he could have known from some other source, but broad-stroke shifts in my life that no-one other than my wife and close family would know. Seismic things.

He was unerringly accurate.

Then he told me what was in store for me.

He told me that I had to go to Dallas on the 23rd of November, and stay there for 15 days, and wonderful things would begin to unfold for me. I was to go without money, and stay in a cheap motel. My wife Jennifer could carry money, but I could not.

He said that his reading was that I was a “good soul” who wanted to bring goodness to the world, and in doing that I would quickly amass wealth. Enormous wealth, he said. I would accumulate considerable assets, but I would also be very charitable.

But only if I went to Dallas on November 23rd, without any money, and stayed for fifteen days. If after fifteen days good things started to happen, then I was to stay for a further thirty days. And a further thirty days. For up to eleven years.

He said there were three places on earth where the cosmic rays would shine on me beneficially – Dallas was the most propitious, but then there was a place called Muscogee in Georgia, and Panama. But Dallas was the number one spot.

He said that my period of beneficence started in 2012 – and I had sixteen years. So two years has already elapsed. He told me that if I didn’t want to go, then he would pay for me to go – he felt that strongly that this was the best thing for me.

So what do I do?
Is this man the emissary of my divine guidance?
What would you do?

Here’s what I’m going to do: as soon as he said Dallas, something pinged inside me. I knew immediately that even though I didn’t understand it, even though it made no sense at all, I had to go to Dallas and do exactly what he told me – arrive on November 23rd, get the free airport shuttle, stay in a cheap motel, and trust that the “cosmic rays” will shine down on me.

I have now been walking for a month, and expect to walk for about the same.

I am at Santo Domingo de la Calzada, easing into the Meseta, which I will always consider as being the physical heart of the Camino, and as the core of the Camino as I love it most.

As a most delightful surprise, the two Spanish Pilgrims that I met on my first day out of Monaco, at Saint-Gilles near Arles after my train journey, are here, and it is joyous to see them again after a month of hiking.

These two brave young men started from Rome, and BTW walked through Monaco, so that it is a strong Sign to meet them now again here at my own symbolic half way point. There is a sense of fullness to this meeting along the Way, and a sense that we are not here simply walking on our own random and disconnected pathways.

This day feels like a renewal, and as somewhere to both continue and to start again, and like the end of the first part of my current Francès.

The Meseta awaits, and I feel an oncoming change in the weather.

The Toad awaits too, alongside his lovely wife, and tonight’s surprise encounter with these old friends here can surely only bode well for Moratinos …

Today has been two separate days in fact – the first half was spent up at Santa Cruz at the Yoga Institute. The second half was spent on Chowpatty Beach in amongst the craziness of Ganpati.

Here are a few images for starters:

It was an early start to get to the Yoga Institute by 8:30am – because we knew the traffic coming back would be madness, with everyone descending on the south of Bombay for the Ganpati celebrations in the afternoon and into the night.

We filmed at the Institute until about 1pm – and I did a truly wonderful interview with the Institute’s director, a very wise and compassionate woman who spoke about intuition with conviction, passion and knowledge.

The Institute seems like it hasn’t changed all that much since it was established nearly 100 years ago. We also filmed in the library, which contains the original handwritten manuscripts of Yogananda. I sat there in the library and read these tiny scribblings and marvelled at how what he wrote about is still relevant today.

We then headed back down to our hotel – I downloaded and backed up all the footage, then Jennifer and I went to lunch. We were told of a small “veg” restaurant about half a mile up the road from where we were staying. It turned out to be amazing.

We had a simple meal of spinach and white cheese, dhal, a spicy cauliflower curry, and naan fresh from the wood fired stone oven. With drinks the whole meal cost $12 for the two of us – and it was truly delicious.

We then set off down towards the beach – walking about 4kms past the Banganga Tank, and all the while coming across Ganeshas being prepped to take down to the beach, with youths banging drums and everyone dancing – with loud firecrackers going off incessantly.

By the time we got to the beach there must have been close to a million people there – with another one to two million in the surrounding streets.

The Ganesh statues – some of them huge – were being transported to the beach on the backs of trucks. There they were lifted down then put on trollies to wheel them down the beach to the sea, where they were to be immersed.

I can only but try to describe the spectacle of it all – the energy and the mass of bodies and the majesty of these enormous states seemingly moving of their own accord through the seething throng down to the water’s edge.

As the light dropped the statues got bigger, and so too the crowds. Somehow the police managed to keep everyone moving and safe – and I would have to say that it goes down as perhaps the most tumultuous religious ceremony I’ve ever attended. Not that I actually attend that many…

So the day started in peace and tranquility, and ended in loud boisterous tumult.

That’s India for you.

Billionaires are strange people.

Extraordinary people.

And always fascinating.

I’m fortunate to know a few – I wouldn’t say I know them well enough to have them on my speed dial, but each time I meet with one I come away learning something new.

Last night Jennifer and I had dinner with one – our second dinner in two days with this fellow who has assets that are measured in billions. He’s a charming urbane and well educated man, who at his core is also deeply spiritual.

His name is Bimal, and he has his Doctorate in Business Management, on top of a law degree. He says that he’s never borrowed a rupee in his life – he has an aversion to spending money – it makes him shudder to even hand over 100 rupees in cash ($2) – so he always uses a credit card, that way he can’t actually see the physical money.

He must pay off his credit card within the allotted time because he says he’s stayed out of debt his entire life. If he doesn’t have the money to buy something, or to invest, he doesn’t do it. When he does invest it’s his money at stake, and so he’s very careful.

He and his two partners run 145 corporations, covering insurance, banking, finance, media and development. He says he doesn’t go into a business unless he’s certain that he can at least double his money within twelve months.

His finance companies lend to real estate developers at a minimum of 36% interest. If they default he takes their properties. His current project is online gaming. He has acquired the Intellectual Property Rights to a game that is hugely popular in India, that’s played in the streets. He is applying for a gaming license – he already has the software program constructed – and if he’s successful in getting the license and proceeding with his venture, then he will take 2.5% of every transaction, worth more than US$250 billion per year.

He lives in a $15m apartment with his wife and one son, aged twenty. They have water views from almost every window. The apartment, while comfortable and in one of the most prestigious blocks in Mumbai, is not what you’d call luxurious. There are no extravagant demonstrations of wealth.

He dedicates three full days to his family – Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Friday and Saturday nights they all go to the movies together. His son will soon do a law degree in an Ivy League university in the United States. Then he’ll return and join his father in helping run the business.

Bimal mostly catches cabs around town. He walks out of his gated tower block and hails a cab off the street, to save money. When his driver takes him around town, it’s usually in a regular Toyota 4WD, however he has in his garage a Rolls Royce, a S-Class Mercedes and a 7 Series BMW.

He is a strong believer in Astrology, and does astrological charts for family and friends. He makes key business decisions based on astrology and his astral body, which is what he calls his Higher Self. This is where he gets his intuitive insights.

He meditates twice each day – always at the same time – and he believes in the pranayamic principle of alternate nostril breathing.

He is sharp, shrewd, charming, and has a short attention span. He’s fiercely intelligent, and his mind makes immediate leaps, as though his comprehension is so fast his thoughts can’t keep up with what he’s saying or doing.

For some reason he likes Jennifer and me.

Actually, he told me he likes me because unlike most people, I don’t ask him for anything. And it’s true, I don’t. All I want from him is the personal experience – and to gain a greater understanding of Indian culture.

He’s been enormously generous with his time, and we can’t leave his apartment without our bellies full of the most glorious Indian food, cooked by his trained chef.

I like Bimal. He is a wonderfully complex and delightful man. I would be terrified to do business with him. His wife Sonal and son Aadityja are both wonderful as well.

Jennifer and I both feel very privileged to have their friendship.

Sunday morning here in Bombay, and so Jennifer and I went for a walk.

Our plan was to walk about 4kms to a mosque called Haji Ali, which is on a rock about half a kilometre from shore. You get to it by walking out along a raised concrete pathway, which is usually full of vendors selling souvenirs, or beggars showing off their deformities.

When we set off it was hot and sweltering – luckily though we’d taken rain jackets because soon it began raining globs of water the size of golfballs. In between rain spells I stopped and took photos – details which took my eye.

We walked beside a long high wall, which had a canopy over it, and really interesting lights, which looked quite strange against the stripes of the canopy. I took a photo, and immediately a security guard jumped out of nowhere and told me I wasn’t allowed to take photos.

I explained that I was just taking a shot of the lamp – and he told me in no uncertain terms that I had to move on, and photos were not allowed.

he didn’t look the type to argue with – and anyhow I got my shot. But as I walked further on I passed a sign which read: US EMBASSY

Huh… you think they could spring for better goddamn lighting.

When the rain started again we ducked into a small sheltered area off the road, and suddenly found ourselves in a wonderland. It was like we’d walked into a hidden theme park.

The scrappy street outside had transmogrified into a cavern with walls of what looked to be carved stone elephants, with lantern lights which shifted colours constantly. We walked down a long tunnel towards a distant ethereal glow.

As we rounded a corner we were suddenly confronted with the largest elephant we’d ever seen – in fact it was an elephant god on a raised pedestal, bathed in a surreal light. The elephant was adorned with garlands, and several one thousand rupee notes were jammed into folds in its limbs and clothing.

What we had actually stumbled upon was a huge statue of the Hindu god Ganesha, which was being prepared for a massive celebration tomorrow. It’s called Ganpati, or Ganesh Chaturthi. Some simply call it the Immersion Day.

I’ve witnessed it before – several years ago – and it’s extraordinary.

It occurs all over India, but most commonly in the state of Maharashtra, of which Mumbai is the capital. It involves the construction of plaster-of-Paris statues of the elephant god, which are housed in elaborately decorated pavilions. These pavilions can be down side alleys, out the front of shops, on in amongst tower blocks.

For ten days prior to the immersion day, people come to the Ganesha and perform ritualistic ceremonies, leave offerings, and pray. Then on the day of the immersion, they will take the statue down to the water and immerse it – allowing the god to sink into the sea, or lake, or river.

The statues are sometimes carried on the shoulders of men, accompanied by bands of youths banging drums and blowing horns. Sometimes the bigger Ganeshas are taken on the backs of trucks, again surrounded by a huge cacophony of banging drums and cymbals and horns.

 In Bombay the action all comes to a spectacular climax at a beach called Chowpaty. Tomorrow there will be literally millions of people crowded there, to both watch the spectacle and to take part. Some of the statues will measure twenty metres high. They’ll be taken down to the shore and then pushed out into sea, where they will slowly sink.

Jennifer and I will be there, and I’ll post pictures afterwards.

We spent about half an hour in the pavilion, watching worshippers and in complete awe of the statue itself, so beautifully made. We then ventured outside, where it was still raining on and off – but decided to keep walking anyway.

We finally came to a large and very famous juice stall called the Haji Ali Juice Centre. There I ordered a freshly squeezed pineapple and pomegranate juice. It cost 150Rp, which is about US$2.50.

By the way, I never worry about getting stomach bugs in India. perhaps because I’ve been here so often now, my system is immune – but within reason I have no problem eating street food, or drinking juice from stands like this one. Mind you, if a place is dirty I avoid it – just like I would in Australia or the US.

We then made our way to the entrance to the mosque, but it was closed. The water was too high, because of storms, and seawater was crashing over the pathway. Not only that but water was flooding the lower levels of the mosque.

I persuaded a guard to take me part the way out, and here are some photos. The storm waters had abated somewhat by the time I took these shots.

We then headed back to the hotel, because I had an interview lined up with my billionaire friend, Bimal. He spoke passionately and fluently about how he uses intuition in his business decision making, and talked at length about astral bodies and astrological cosmic rays. It was a fascinating interview.

Then back again to the hotel, to download the footage, log it all, and prepare for tomorrow, which is going to be a massive day. We have an interview with the Director of the Yoga Institute in the morning, and in the evening the climax of Ganpati, and the immersion ceremony.

Today was fascinating – tomorrow promises to be amazing.

Day 2 was another busy day, which started off for me at 6:30am.

I don’t believe in jetlag – except when it I cold cocks me on the back of the head when I least expect it.

Fortunately this morning it let me be.

While the light was still low and interesting, I got a cab to take me down to the Banganga Tank, which is a very old stone structure in south Bombay where people wash and swim and perform all kinds of religious rites.

The tank was built in the 12th century – but according to legend it came into being 5000 years ago when the Hindu god Ram (from the epic Ramayana) asked his brother for some water. His brother, Laxman, shot an arrow into the ground, and up came a stream of water from the sacred Ganges – hence the name of the tank: Ganga (Ganges) + Baan (arrow).

I did some filming there, the first filming of the show in fact – which I should have celebrated in some time honoured way – except that I forgot.

I was probably still asleep.

Jennifer had done the sensible thing and stayed in bed after the long and eventful day yesterday. After breakfast we then headed down to Churchgate – had an early lunch at the Bombay Tea Centre where a pot of First Flush Darjeeling costs $3.

Jennifer had chai in the traditional earthenware cup.

We then headed uptown to Santa Cruz, to meet the head of the Bombay Yoga Institute – said to be the oldest yoga institution in the world.

It was founded in 1918 by Shri Yogendraji –

and is now run by his son, Dr. Jayadeva Yogendra. I had a meeting with the doctor at 2pm, but when I arrived I was told that he was asleep, and could see me at 4pm. It had taken over an hour to drive there, and waiting till 4pm was not possible, so I insisted firmly that the appointment had been scheduled for 2pm.

Finally the doctor’s son Hrishi ushered me into an inner room, where I met the Dr.’s wife, and Director of the Institute, Mrs. Hansaji Jayadeva. The doctor was still asleep in the room where we met – yet he was also awake because he communicated with us when he needed to. His son told me that he was not connected to the material world anymore.

Mrs. Hansaji was an articulate and highly intelligent woman who spoke to me at length about the yogic concepts of intuition. And she agreed to be interviewed for the film on Monday.

Jennifer and I were then shown around the institute, which is housed on several acres amongst beautiful gardens. On any given days there are multiple classes teaching people from all around the world how yoga can heal and cure, and can also be the basis of a fully realised balanced life.

The doctor’s son Hrishi took me around the institute, including a small museum which details the history of the institute, and of yoga itself. Hrishi pointed out to me that the yoga poses, called asanas, which most people in the west know to be yoga are only one of eight strands of yogic practise. The asanas in fact only originated so that practitioners of yoga meditation could sit in a relaxed pose for the hours necessary to meditate deeply.

The institute was a fascinating place, which doesn’t seek to make money from its work. There is a small payment for classes, but if someone can’t afford to pay, then they are admitted free. Their reason for being is to spread the word of yoga to the world.

We came back and rested – and now we’re about to go out to dinner with our billionaire friend again. He’s invited us to his house where his chef has been spending all day preparing a Rajasthan banquet for us.

It should be a fascinating evening.

By the way – people who’ve never been to India worry about personal security, theft etc. This morning I put some clothes in to be laundered. About half an hour later there was a knock on the door, and someone from the housekeeping staff handed me $250 in Australian notes, which I’d evidently left in my trouser pockets. It would have been so easy for them to steal that money – but they returned it. This kind of honesty has been demonstrated to me time and time again in India.

For those of you who walked the Camino Portuguese Tour in April, you’ll remember Catarina with enormous affection.

Beautiful, wild, crazy, generous, funny – did I say beautiful? – she drove our van and attended our petty needs and made the tour very special for all of us.

When we said goodbye to her in Santiago, we all felt very sad – as though we were saying goodbye to a dear friend. Which is what she’d become to us.

Catarina is a qualified lawyer, studying with the long term aim to become a judge. She’s a smart cookie.

The highlight of our tour with her was when we got to Santiago and she parked the Mercedes van in “…the best spot, Bill. You would not believe what a great parking spot I found. I couldn’t believe my luck!”

The following morning I was sitting in a coffee shop having breakfast with Jennifer and I casually looked out the front window and noticed that several police cars were in the square nearby, supervising a large tow truck that was, yes, towing our van.

Yep Catarina, that was the best parking spot!!

I hadn’t heard from Catarina for a while because she’s had her head down studying, but I woke up to find a delightful text from her. So we exchanged SMSs, which became very silly…

Here is Catarina:

 And here are the texts: