Some exciting new developments with the PGS film –

Jennifer and I will be heading back to the US mid July to continue filming – most probably returning to Dallas – as well as LA, San Francisco, possibly Oregon again, and perhaps Boulder Colorado too.

The filming itinerary is still taking shape, but we hope to be accompanied by someone who, like us, lives their life intuitively. And very much believes in what we’re doing.

More information later, but it’s all coming together as it should. Because this film is being made under guidance.

For the ladies going on the Mother Ganga tour in September, here is a post from Jennifer giving advice on Indian clothing…

Jennifer: What I wear in India ~

What do I wear in India?

On the Mother Ganga tour, especially in Delhi, Amritsar and Mumbai, it’s going to be very warm. And by very warm, I mean hot.

In Australia, when it gets hot in summer, I wear shorts and a singlet around the house, and a thin dress for a visit to the shops. This means exposed legs, exposed arms, tops that can be low cut, shorts or dresses that can be short short.

In India, in the summer, I dress up. Layers and layers, even if it’s 40C+. This is what’s most comfortable. This is how the Indian women dress, and I figure they’ve been doing it for hundreds of years, so they must know what best suits the climate.

So in India I dress Indian!

I put on traditional Indian leg-ins, called churidars. The Indians must have invented leg-ins. They are long and thin down your leg but big and baggy around your tummy.

Nothing tight.

If it’s really hot though sometimes I’ll wear baggy salwars pants.  They are so big I can fit myself into them a couple of times.  Over this I wear a kurta.  This is the iconic Indian shirt.

A kurta goes over my head and down over my leg-ins or baggy salwar pants.  It covers all the folds of fabric pulled in at my tummy and floats down to my thighs or my calves depending on the length I choose.

The last layer is  my favourite piece of Indian clothing – the dupatta.

A dupatta is like a scarf or shawl  except it’s twice as big.  I drape my dupatta over my shoulders, put on some pretty sandals, and I’m ready to face anything the Indian streets may send my way.

Everything I’m wearing is either cotton or silk, or both.  The sweep and flutter of my baggy pants, and the flip and flap of my dupatta, creates little eddies of breeze – my own cooling system.

If the sun’s beating down, I can use my dupatta to shade my face.  If there’s a sudden rain squall, my dupatta will protect me till I find shelter.  And when I go into a hotel lobby and the air con hits me, I  can wrap my dupatta around me so I don’t get hypothermic shock.

And if I spill curry on myself  – well I can use my dupatta as camouflage.

I walk differently when I’m in my Indian layers.  Gone are my camino hiking boot strides.  I take little steps.  I like to think I’m graceful and feminine like the Indian ladies around me.  I’m not really.

They sail past in exotic clothing,  More exotic than I would dare to wear.  They have on the perfect  mix and match  confections called Salwar Kameez.  Each item in theory is like mine but in practice no.  The artistry of the Salwar Kameez can be breathtaking.

Or perhaps they are wearing saris.  Oh my!  Six meters of exquisite fabric draped around a body.  How do they stay on?  Why don’t the ladies trip over?  How do they do it?  I have heard they use safety pins but even so.

This is a feminine country.

The softest mint greens are mixed with the most delicate pinks.  In India orange is a neutral and hot pink goes with everything.

Head to foot pure white looks divine.

And glorious ruby red matched with brilliant emerald green doesn’t make me think of Christmas.  Every colour imaginable is on the street in combinations that make my head spin.

Sequins are worn to breakfast.   Sparkle is daywear.  Jewelry glints and gleams.

Shiny bangles go all the way up arms.  Ankles tinkle with tiny bells. Toes wear rings.  Hands are etched in henna.  Foreheads are decorated in coloured powder.

I so want to join in.

There are a few places still available on the Mother Ganga tour.
Here is the link to the site:
http://gonetours.com/mother-ganga-tour-sept-2015/
bill@gonetours.com

This is a post about nothing.

Lately I’ve become fascinated with nothing.

Zero.
Zilch.
Hich.
Hich?

Hich was the name of the hotel I stayed in, in Konya, Central Turkey.

Hich means “nothing,” in the Islamic tradition, and it’s a central part of Sufi teachings. They believe that you should strive for nothing-ness – a state where the ego dissolves completely, and there is no barrier between yourself and unity with God.

The Buddhists too strive to attain a state of nothingness – where there is no attachment to things or feelings or thoughts or actions. Suffering comes through attachment. If you have no attachment, you have no suffering. You have nothing.

I’m fascinated by zero – a concept that was conceived by Indian mathematicians in the 5th century AD. It’s incredible to think that the numeric system that we operate under now, in which zero is such an integral part, came from Indian scholars 16 centuries ago.

This excerpt from Wikipedia:

The rules governing the use of zero appeared for the first time in Brahmagupta’s book Brahmasputha Siddhanta (The Opening of the Universe). Here Brahmagupta considers not only zero, but negative numbers, and the algebraic rules for the elementary operations of arithmetic with such numbers. Here are the rules of Brahmagupta:

• The sum of zero and a negative number is negative.
• The sum of zero and a positive number is positive.
• The sum of zero and zero is zero.

What’s interesting about this is that the rules for zero came from a book called: The Opening of the Universe. 

This brings me to the next aspect of nothing I’m fascinated with – cosmology, and the research currently underway in Switzerland by CERN into the substance of matter. Or dark matter, to be exact.

A huge machine called a Large Hadron Collidor is buried underground somewhere in the French/Swiss countryside, and the world’s top physicists are using this machine to smash sub atomic particles together at incredible velocities to see what happens when they bust open.

Check this article out:
http://www.smh.com.au/technology/sci-tech/large-hadron-collider-is-cranking-up-again-prepare-to-have-your-mind-blown-20150603-ghfktm.html

What’s interesting in this article is this section:

Scientists now know that the atoms that make up the stuff we can see (such as stars, butterflies, asteroids, toasters, clouds and humans), account for less than 5 per cent of the universe’s mass. That leaves a lot of other stuff about which we know almost nothing. About 27 per cent of the universe is dark matter and the rest – about 68 per cent – is dark energy. Some scientists hope that collisions in the Large Hadron Collider will give us some evidence of dark matter, which has never before been detected.

So 68% of the universe is made up of stuff we know nothing about.

The last time the guys at CERN did these experiments, they discovered what they called “The God Particle.” What’s a God Particle? I’ll use a quote from The Dude in The Big Lebowski: “That rug really tied the room together man.”

The God Particle is the rug, and the Universe is the room.

Here’s a good article from Nat Geo to explain – http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2008/03/god-particle/achenbach-text

So, this is why I’m fascinated by nothing.

Last year, Jennifer and I went to a Sydney Camino dinner.

We don’t normally go to these dinners – in part because we’ve found them to be very clique-y; and by that I mean that groups quickly form, and then you’re not made to feel welcome into that group.

Some people can become very proprietorial about the Camino. Very possessive. They don’t like to share it. It becomes their very reason for being, and so they hold it close.

Too close, sometimes, I believe.

Jennifer and I go to those dinners principally to hang out with Britta and Jenny and Janet, who are like those fairies you see in the old Disney movies, that fly into a dark room and light it up with their magic energy.

Anyway, at this one particular dinner Jennifer and I sat opposite a couple who had driven down from the Blue Mountains. Two hours. They were hoping to walk the Camino soon, and wanted some information from the dinner meeting.

But they found that no-one would talk to them.

They were ignored.

There was no way for them to find out anything about the Camino.

They later told me they felt like getting up, walking out, and driving back to the mountains.

Jennifer and I had come late and we sat down opposite them, and we asked them questions, and they asked us questions, and we ended up having a good old chin wag.

We discovered they both had major medical disorders which would make the Camino difficult for them – the man had a sleeping disorder which would require him carrying a three kg machine to help him breathe at night.

His wife had major issues with both knees, which would require surgery.

At the time I admired their resolve and determination, and wondered if they would ever go through with it. I suspected they would, because they had the bug bad. (The Camino bug that gets into your bloodstream and can’t be cured until you walk the Camino.)

We kept in touch, and via email, we became friends.
His name is Tony Jacques, and his wife is Ce.

They walked the Camino, and averaged about 20kms a day. It was a remarkable feat.

Next I heard that Tony was setting up a Camino group dinner at Blackheath, in the Blue Mountains, and he asked if Jen and I would like to come.

It was to be held at Glenella, a very famous guesthouse / restaurant, which Jennifer and I knew from the 80s, when it was owned by Michael Manners, and was regarded as one of the state’s finest restaurants.

The dinner was last week. $25 a head for a pilgrim meal, which included warm tortilla, grilled chicken on skewers, salad, and home made ice-cream, fruit, and home made meringues. Wine was included.

It was a delicious meal.

Glenella is now owned by a couple that recently cycled the Camino – Rowan and Margaret Boutell. They said it was the Camino that brought them to Glenella. Along with Tony and Ce, they are now keen to make these dinners a regular event.

Certainly the evening was a wild success. There must have been about 50 people – and unlike the Sydney dinner, you walked in and were immediately met with conviviality, and made welcome.

During the dinner there were three speakers who gave information about the Camino to those who were thinking of walking – quite a few at that dinner it seemed were either thinking of, or planning to, walk the Camino.

Tony also very generously plugged my books –

Towards the end of the dinner, he got up and did a Powerpoint presentation which gave a lot of information about the Camino, and what to expect. He spoke with humility, grace, and engagement.

And then over dessert everyone got up and mixed, and chatted, swapped stories, and got to know one another. I have to say it was the antithesis of the Sydney dinners we’d been to, which have been cold and aloof and uninformative.

Since that dinner, in follow up emails, Tony tells me they have plans to not only continue the dinners monthly, but to expand to other towns in the Blue Mountains / Central West area. And possibly hold film evenings, showing a Camino movie.

(Anyone from Mudgee or surrounding district that would want to have a dinner in Mudgee, let me know and I’ll help organise it – billpgsblog@gmail.com )

What I find amazing about this is: the level of interest in the Camino, for so many people in the Blue Mountains area to come out on a winter’s night as they did –

And, the commitment of Tony and Ce – and Rowan and Margaret – to organise such an event.

They must love the Camino…

I’ve posted on the Gone Tours website some suggested reading and viewing for those coming on the India tour – the Mother Ganga tour – in September.

India is such a complex country, with customs and religions that most of us don’t understand – so to get the most out of the trip it’s good to know a bit beforehand.

Here is the link:

http://gonetours.com/2015/05/30/mother-ganga-tour-early-preparation/

Also, we’re now having to finalise such things as airline flights, hotel rooms etc. We have eight people confirmed already, but there’s room for more. So if you’re thinking about coming, please get in touch with me – even if you’re not sure at this stage – so that I can hold rooms.

bill@gonetours.com

India is the kind of country where you can’t wing it – you can’t do things at the last moment. Flights and train travel, with full names, have to be booked in advance. (We’re traveling by train from Delhi to Amritsar. It should be fabulous!)

So please, let me know if you’re considering the tour –

Angela Mitchell and her husband Ken joined us on the Assisi tour.

Jennifer and I have become good friends with them since our time together walking the Camino Portuguese.

Angie is a Weird & Whacky – unashamedly.
Just like Jennifer.
And maybe, just like me too…

Anyway, here are her thoughts on the Via di Francesco pilgrimage…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have been thinking hard and fast since committing to writing a post for Bill’s blog because I think that for me there were so many levels to the Via di Francesco Walking Tour.

So I have been spending some thinking time mulling over how to communicate all the salient aspects of this memorable walk.

At the physical level there was the joy of walking in this beautiful country and enjoying the scenery each day as I trekked up and down the mountains.

 At a personal level there was the connection and friendship of us pilgrims; we all got on so well.

I have decided to throw all caution to the winds and talk instead in a weird and whacky way.

At a deeper level, the spiritual aspect resonated with me as I read about this humble man Francis who gave up all his wealth to live a life of poverty and serve.

As you might know already, I have been emerged in esoteric literature for over 20 years and have a high interest in concepts like incarnation, the universe, energy, consciousness and vibrational frequency.

I have read about the Ascended Masters and found out in a number of spiritual new age books that a Master called Lord Kuthumi, also referred to as a World Teacher, lived one of his incarnated lives as the man called Francis.

It is written that St Francis was 44 years old when he died in 1226. He was the Founder of the Franciscan Order, a Roman Catholic Order of Friars and Nuns. He was canonised as a saint on July 1228 by Pope Gregory 1X.

So in addition to the joys of walking with friends there was a deep need inside of me to walk and experience the energy that I believe is part of the San Francesco Way

Did I feel the energy on the roads and paths everyday?

The answer is yes!

The energy has to do with love and light and I felt a level of awareness and peace all at the same time.

To me this is not specifically a religious thing, a Catholic Church thing. It is a deeper more meaningful ethereal energy that is connected to the love and light of the universe that is there for everyone and every person.

As I walked along I contemplated on all our different jobs in life and considered that we all serve in so many diverse ways, and that we are all equal as we journey towards conscious awareness.

Walking into Assisi and into the Basilica was special as it is a beautiful church, and yes I could feel the energy, the level of consciousness vibrating in this holy place.

I also saw the trillion of pilgrims, whether they walked or were bussed; they were all here for their own reasons.

What has stayed with me more than anything else is the energy of the San Francesco Way and at times I still feel I am walking in the mountains.

Thank you Jennifer and Bill, you did so very well!

Here are my twelve favourite shots from the time in Italy ~

They are, of course, idiosyncratic, and probably not shots you would have chosen, but they touch my soul.

By the way, for those interested in the technicals – all these photos were taken with a Sony compact camera, the RX100 Mk3. It has a 1″ sensor, and a Zeiss 24-70mm lens.

It all went too quickly.

And yet at the time, there were days when it was a hard slog.

In nine days we climbed a total of nearly 6kms.
And we descended a total that was a bit over 6kms.

Each day on our walk we averaged an O Cebreiro. Up and down. Anyone who has climbed up O’Cebreiro on the Camino Frances knows what that means.

And what it feels like!

Ok – no more whinging.

It was magnificent – in part because of all the mountains and valleys. It has to be the most stunningly beautiful walk I’ve ever done.

I will always remember looking out across valleys threaded with streams, over green patchworked hilltops shrouded in mist and dotted with old stone farmhouses, to distant mountains, and crumbling castles silhouetted against threatening skylines.

There were no big cities, no ugly industrial zones, often no noise other than cuckoo birds and the tinkling of streams. And the ever present rustle of wind through trees.

No pilgrims too.

We only met up with a few pilgrims in the last couple of days. For the rest of the time we were the only people on the track.

I felt a deep connection to this walk that transcended mere beauty.
There was something else at play here.

The walk began casually, after a gorgeous Tuscan lunch, with a short sharp climb from the township of La Verna up through mist to the monastery that sat atop a heavily wooded mountain.

We arrived in swirling mist – walking into the square in front of the monastery’s church, at the edge of which was a large knobbled wooded cross.

As with everything to do with St. Francis, that cross was unadorned, simple, and humble.

The monastery was where St. Francis experienced his stigmata, and where he often stayed for long periods.

At 3pm every day, the monks conduct a short service in the church, then walk in procession carrying a large cross along a covered corridor to a chapel – something which they’ve done every day for hundreds of years.

We attended that service, and trailed along behind in the procession.

And later we explored the monastery – and began to get a strong sense of St. Francis, and what this place meant to him. That evening we bedded down in the monastery after a delicious but simple meal.

The following morning – the first day of our walk – dawned sunny with blue skies. In the few days prior, it had been raining and drizzly. But from that first day on till the end of the walk, we would have no rain.

After an austere monastic breakfast, we set off to walk the 185kms to Assisi – a walk which would take us 10 days, including one rest day in Gubbio.

We walked some 400m out of the monastery, found a roadside cafe, and stopped for 20 minutes to have a decent coffee!

Then the walk truly began.

Over the next several days, until we got to Assisi, we would find churches, shrines by the track, and towns which held dear the spirit of St. Francis.

You didn’t need to be a Catholic, (which I’m not), or even particularly religious, (which I’m not), to be affected by the energy of St. Francis that pervaded this path. It’s a walk he did many times, from his monastery to Assisi, and his soul imprint lies within and without.

We were conscious that we were following in his very footsteps.

In many ways this for me was a far more intense experience than the Camino Frances.

Why?

Perhaps because it’s so short. 185kms is not far, and yet the geography of the route is physically demanding at times. So you pack a lot in over a short distance.

Perhaps also I found it more intense because the walk is connected to an historical figure. It’s personal.

The life of St. Francis of Assisi is well documented. We know a lot about what he did, what sort of person he was, where he went and why he did what he did.

With the Camino Frances you’re walking with a concept.
With the Via di Franceso you’re walking with a man.

The two are no less spiritual in their gestalt – and I’m not saying one is a better experience than the other. I’m just saying that for me, kilometre for kilometre, the Via di Francesco punched well above its weight.

What makes any walk a great experience though are the people.
And I was surrounded by wonderful wonderful people.

Things I remember:

Elena driving the “Special” Bus with Monaco Grand Prix nerves of steel. And chasing those people at the Mozzarella Farm to ask them if they would sell us some of their stash…

Elena’s calm and elegant manner, and her exhaustive attention to detail, helped make the tour run as smoothly as it did…

Patty Talbot’s quick laugh and sharp wit. And her indomitable spirit and courage.

And let’s not forget the night we told her about Drop Bears….
We couldn’t stop laughing.

Then there was Angela Mitchell’s unwavering care, kindness, and generosity. And the flowers in her pack… I discovered that she’s not only weird and whacky, but she’s also a closet hippy…

And her husband Ken, and the way he’d turn his back on me and laugh as he walked away when I said something truly offensive. And how he climbed those mountains with a dicky knee and never once complained.

I was grateful for Peter Lander’s steadiness and strength – and again his wonderful sense of humour. Oh, and his newly bought Nordic walking poles, which I’m sure will change his life…

Our dear Marie Dominique Rigaud – and her good natured negotiations with waiters each evening to get food she could eat. And her roadside yoga…

Ivan & Giovanna – our time with them was way too short. They brought laughter and light to our walk, and we missed them terribly when they had to leave –

The glorious welcome given to me by Sigrid, an Austrian pilgrim I’d met on the Camino Frances. She and her husband happened to be in the area, and they detoured so that they could have lunch with us.

And Jennifer.
What can I say about Jennifer, other than she shone the whole way…

I would also like to thank Sandy Brown, from Seattle, who has written a guide book for this walk, called The Way of St. Francis. The book will be published in the fall, I believe.

Sandy very kindly gave me access to a pre-publication version of the book, which covers the route from Florence to Rome in exhaustive detail. We would have got lost several times if not for Sandy’s book.

I have no doubt it will become the “bible” of this route, in the way John Brierley’s guide has become essential reading for anyone walking the Camino Frances.

Sandy also provided me with GPX tracks for the route, which I then loaded into my iPhone, and this made it impossible to get lost. So his generosity and kindness were very much appreciated not only by me, but by everyone on the tour.

For anyone interested in doing this walk, Sandy’s blog is:
http://caminoist.org

Thank you Sandy.

It was a great bunch of people on this tour. Some of us were friends from the previous tour. Those friendships have only deepened. Patty came in new, and within one or two days she was a mate to us all – like she was someone we’d known and walked with for years.

This was a powerful experience, this walk.

It was fun.
It was hard.
It was spiritual.
It was beautiful.

We ate well, we had good wines, and we laughed more than is socially acceptable, and sometimes we were naughty and politically incorrect, and sometimes we were politically appalling, but always we cared for each other.

The Via di Francesco is a walk I’ll never forget.

I have decided to take myself off all social media.

I will of course continue to blog, but these blogs won’t be seen anymore on Facebook or Twitter.

Social media wastes a lot of time, for little benefit.

And I find that it’s inherently narcissistic.

For me it’s an unnecessary distraction, and I’ve come back with a lot to do –

So bye bye Facebook and Twitter.

Already I feel liberated…