Today was cleansing day.  Alarm went at 5.40 as I knew that “medicines, Madam” would be there at 6.  Sure enough, I was sitting on the terrace reading when he came along with a glass of warm sludge and told me to drink it.  It tasted of liquorice and pepper and ginger and honey, with an aftertaste of chanel no 5,  but it was still sludge and I had to battle the gagging reflex.  I will not tell more about the effects of the sludge.  After a while I felt a bit queasy, and so I shuffled off to breakfast and had 3 cups of very gingery ginger tea.  


At 10 a waiter appeared at my terrace with a glass of coconut water. “Drink this, Madam” he commanded.  30 minutes later the doctor appeared.  “How are you?” she asked.   “Have you been to the toilet?”  “How many times?”  Not totally satisfied with my answers, she shook her head from side to side and left.  She seemed disappointed that I was fine.  Tired and feeling the effects of the sludge, I went for a wee lie down.  I was just starting to dream of the office, when a loud knock on the door saved me. “Sorry for disturb, Madam, but this is for you” said the smiling waiter.  This, I understood, was my lunch.  A bowl of salty rice gruel and a green ball of something.  I thought it looked like a pistachio sweet of some kind and therefore saved it for after the gruel.  It was coconut and salt and herbs all chopped up very fine and then rolled into a disgusting ball.  Yuck.


2 o’clock torture time soon came round.  I dragged myself up the hill to Beena and Binjhu who greeted me warmly.  Beena: “Have you been to the toilet?”  “How many times?”  “Vomiting?”  When I said no, I had not vomited, Beena sniffed.  That was the wrong answer. When I told her about the ginger tea she shook her head, not from side to side Indian yes fashion, but  western style, eyes heavenward “you stupid woman” fashion.  Beena and Bindhu were kind to me today and did not thump me with anything at all.  A facepack.  Something cold on my eyelids.  I was starting to feel pampered.  “Sit” she  ordered.  And then they brought out a big brass bowl of mud like sludge.  It smelt like the stuff I drank this morning.  They plastered it on my head.  Then the banana leaf was applied.  “One hour keeping” instructed Beena.  As I left, Bindhu put a teatowel round my neck as if it were a jasmine garland.  Back at my terrace, reading my book, I soon realised that brown liquid was running down my face and neck as the sludge was melting in the heat.  That was what the teatowel was for.  4 washes it took to get that sludge out of my hair.  So at least my hair is cleansed.

So here I am after being pounded with limes.  I was quite green.  They put limes in some muslin, and then they heat it up in oil and then they pound you with it.  As you can see from the ninja headgear, they finish off the session with some more shirodhara.  The shirodhara seems to be having an effect.  After the second one I often have nightmares and find myself angry about something.  Anyway, here I am in this beautiful place and I dreamt of the office.  That’s enough to make anyone fly into a rage.  Add to that the lack of cups for a whole 10 minutes yesterday at breakfast time.  Swiss ladies were drinking their tea our of soup bowls.  Not those cool looking things favoured by the French.  No, luggies as Burns called them. I was unable to drink my tea out of a soup bowl so I waited the ten minutes and then calculated how much my ten minutes had cost.  That figure would come in handy in my campaign. I was outraged. I spent most of the day plotting my angry campaign.  Trying to decide whether to give the Food and Beverage Manager a chance, or take it straight to the GM.  Should I email my travel agent now about this shocking state of affairs, or should I wait until I get home. At one point I was considering dragging the manager with me into town so that we could shop for cups together and he could see how easy it is to buy cups here, and how cheap they are. The letters were writing themselves in my head, but I was too engrossed in my book (The Help) to actually act on any of it.  And today, there were cups galore at breakfast time, everyone is smiling and efficient.  And I am calm.

my little hut and terrace

Finally warmed through after arriving here 2 days ago unable to remember my own name.  I have a nice little room with a private terrace and a view of the sea. This is not my first trip to an ayurvedic resort, so I was quite prepared to see people shuffling around in dressing gowns.  However, this is the first ninja ayurvedic resort I have visited.  As well as the dressing gowns which look a bit like long grey martial arts kimonos, they are wearing white bands round their heads with either white cloth, or a banana leaf covering the crown.  They also have warrior type markings on their forehead and neck.


The doctor shook her head from side to side and told me that my energy is quite well balanced and my immune system is strong.  She then set about drawing up a  programme to shift my 5% excess of one kind of energy back to where it belongs.  Fine with me as long as that programme includes shirodhara.  More about shirodhara later.  Beena and Bindhu would be in charge from now on.


In the afternoon someone knocked at my door with “medicines, Madam”  and handed me a bag of herbal drugs to be taken before and after food.  The package includes a bottle of bitter brown sludge of which 3 tablespoons 3 times daily. I have taken this stuff before.  Not this time.  It is vile.  I will not take it. I only have to decide whether to leave it unconsumed as a symbol of defiance, or tip a little down the sink each day to feign compliance.


The first “treatment” was a thumping from Beena and a subtle re-arrangement of my skeleton.  Next day, Beena and Bindhu ganged up on me and thumped me again.  When I screamed, Beena would ask “Is pain?”  I soon learn that answering yes to “is pain?” only encourages them to inflict more pain.  You have to suffer the pain to earn the shirodhara. And so, I got my shirodhara.  Warm oil is poured rhythmically on the forehead for about 45 minutes. Very relaxing.  By now it was 8.30pm.  The restaurant closes at 9, and so I had to go for dinner in the kimono and ninja head gear.  I had arrived.

some ninjas snapped unawares