train ride down to the coast to tez and jean's house in worthing, so good to see them in the flesh as we usually skype. the weather is awful and it's cold but i feel warm as i am with two old friends, it's fantastic to see them again after a few years. off course we have aged a bit and slowed down so it's nice to be around people who are on the same wavelength and physicality as myself. 
tez and jean have always been a wealth of knowledge and great company, they are also excellent cooks so i am fed well, nutritious health fresh vegan food. wow! i'm so grateful. the first night i sleep like a baby, wake up feeling completely alive and ready for anything. we take a nice drive into town and i buy some long pants as my legs are freezing. then a little tour around the [place. it's okay, a good place, people are friendly and helpful, totally different vibe from londonistan. people have tiome to stop and chat, it's slower, more traditional and english in that gentle kind way. i like it although i feel a bit of a fish out of water, the beach is filled with rocks and the water looks so uninviting and angry. we have a quaint tea and cake in the lido at the pier and although i am freezing from that onshore wind, the hot drink helps. it's quite amazing how much history tez knows. to be honest tez should have his own you tube channel and i think it would be very popular but he's a humble modest guy and avoids attention.
so for a few days i feel like i am in a sanctuary, being looked after by two beautiful people. we have a laugh as we discuss the world. tales are told, memories of east london where we all hail from surface up and local folklore placed into context. fairy rings, energetic pathways, magick and new eras, politics, secret agendas, possible strategies to navigate them, everything worthwhile is discussed. i drink a few guinesses, eat more great food, sleep deep sleeps and dream weird dreams. we take a group photo together, it's our album cover for a new band called 'pterodactyl hex.' 
jean plays sitar, tez on guitars and i do vocals and tabla.
before i know it it is time to return, london is a shock again, the anthesis of the south coast.

as usual i arrive early and haul my suitcase across the city on the tube, london is cold, grey and wet. already i feel depressed and out of place. all i can think about is the ocean back home, terrible beach where i miss my morning surfs, the smell of good coffee afterwards, and the sun on my face. anyways here i am, gotta make the most of it i guess. when i get to mums everyone is sick, mum, my brother and the people that seem to come and go. jake is fit as a fiddle, he's off to italy for work for a few days but returns in a few days but before he leaves we head into london where i stock up on rare books and stuff at my fave places. london seems nuts, from now on i will refer to it as londonistan, seeing as though the islamic population outnumbers everything else.  it's packed with tourists, americans, italians, spanish, it really is quite the tourist city. occasionally i hear someone speaking in english.
i can't help than notice a lot of the pubs seem to be shut down, that's a step in the right direction but it takes away the very fabric of the london i know. there are some pubs open, very expensive and crowded, far to loud for me although i do occasionally stop for a guinness on doctor's orders.
my brother invites me to his workspace, a huge big tower made from brick and glass in algate. from up there i can see east london, the old architecture looks amazing, the new not so much. generic buildings, even the telephone shaped one looks ugly and lacks imagination, the shard is modern and looks good but belongs in dubui, the pickle is wonderful but belongs in dallas. 
on the street it's bangldesh. 
we walk to (whitechapel) london hospital where i was born. the original building still stands although it resembles a victorian insane asylum, with it's gothic turrets and gargoyles. ancient brick crumbles and faded with age. this whole building has closed down and they relocated now, down the road stands the new london hospital, it's ugly and has a generic failing nhs sort of feel.
we wander along to my first home, 'zion house' in sidney street, the roads are tiny and the apartments are equally small. i can't believe this area, when i was born this was considered the biggest slum in europe but now it's a mini bangladesh a few minutes walk from the city. londons ever expanding boundaries kinda started here, in the background of these council homes stands the shard and the new skyscrapers, you can even see the eye.
along the main road of whitechapel are the ruins of the white chapel of saint mary matfelon, now just a few white stones. as i stand staring at them a black dude with a headscarf wrapped around his head, wearing torn plastic globves comes over to shake my hands. he says, hello and tells my brother about me. it's weird, this sort of thing happens quite often, random strangers come up and start saying to whomever i am with, 'this guy is very amazing, he's special, he's important, he's an angel, a legend,' etc.
not only is it embarrassing for me, but whomever i am with is left bewildered and lost for words, as is my brother whom looks nervous as the guy shakes my hand and walks off fulfilled.
we wander around, pop into 'the ten bells' a famous haunt for east london prostitutes in the olde days, in fact jack the rippers victims had their last ever drinks there. now it's filled with yuppies and advertising people.
one fine day i walk through hamstead with jake, he shows me a new bookshop which i really like. it's all arranged in geographical terms. in hampstead i feel more relaxed and in an environment i can relate two. it was a big haunt for me as a young teen and now jake lives there. sunday afternoon it's heaving, everything is open and cafes and pubs are packed. 

the transport system has declined a lot in the year since i was here last, often trains don't run, buses are unmarked and the drivers don't really speak to the public so they are no help. it's all very weird. jake and i made the mistake of catching a train via wembley when a soccer match was on, it was squished up to the max. very uncomfortable and unhealthy.

an hour of boxing this morning, wow, i'm feeling good. move fast and punch hard, i feel confident enough to handle myself in a fight now. especially ready for londonistan where it appears violence is the currency. obviously if it's an acid attack i will be in deep trouble but knives, fists and any sort of punch up i am ready. i'm going to punch like a concrete block and sting like a man o war jellyfish. but only if i have to. i am aligned with mars for london

on the flip side i'm emotionally filled with love and peace, good vibrations cruise from my body in erotic pulsing waves of creativity, sensuality and charm. strange, i have not felt this energy in a while, it's been dormant or awaiting a moment where the body, heart and mind are aligned with venus for asia.

i awake again after a very long 24 hours, how do they stretch it out into what feels like 48? i'm pottering around, this and that, expanding into that strange inertia variation as i always do before life changing events. everything looks jammed packed, no space as the walls close in upon me. i do live in a suitcase.

the adventure beckons, the lure of sirens singing and shrieking enchantments, i throw a couple of books in my bag.  david zindell's 'neverness' light reading, heavy story which can be dis-guarded after reading as i have another copy. smart travel. a pair of swimmers and two shorts, old church t shirts that are falling apart. their last voyage out. men always find it hard letting go of old t shirts, it's a strange relationship.
the flight to bali occurs with my head in a book, i hardly notice the journey. on arrival there's a lot of waiting around but eventually i meet my driver whom i employ as a tour driver later in the week. 
oh no! the hotel is not quite what i wanted, it's in the heart of legian, and nowhere near as glamourous as my previous stays. i kick myself for not returning to sanur which is further north and less touristy. the town is filled with tourists, restaurants and bars. i make friends with a guy from mullumbimbi, we share a lot in common both having worked in youth work and homelessness. i tell him about some lovely weed i smoked a few weeks ago and he says, 'that's silver widow right?' 
he is right. 

after a chat he tells me his neighbour has a supply and suggests he may be able to acquire some for me. unfortunately we never meet again and like all transient things i am left wondering if it was all a dream. others in the hotel are dogy aussies, tattooed up, alcohol fuelled and chain smoking with their oversized girls friends who burst out of bikini's and talk far to loudly about getting their hair done. i hot tail it to ubud where i hang out with the monkeys who are slightly more cultured than the australian tourists.

i have lunch over the rice fields as a storm comes in, it's quite dramatic and beautiful. outside of time.

udud is a bit touristy as well and somewhat filled with modern shops, restaurants and spas. i ask my driver to take me somewhere where are not many people and i can get a massage.

we end up in some temple, it's stunning traditional architecture and gardens are almost japanese, although with a huge hindu influence. the women wear traditional sarongs and the building is hidden along a long walkway.

two hours later i'm floating on air.

we stop at a place i always visit to pick up a couple of sarongs, i end up buying a shirt as well. then off to the local chocolate factory where they have taste testing but the only thing i want is the coffee flavoured one. it's good but not brilliant. at least, not as good as european chocolate. 

another day i walk along the beach, it's very different from the beach i wandered along 10 years ago when i bumped into my friend from sydney who was holidaying with her husband. now there's a trail of litter, plastic bottles and bags. it's disturbing. part of me wants to clean it up, it would take about two years and i wonder why the local authority doesn't just ban plastic at the beach. there are plenty of locals selling fresh coconuts which they machete open for you to drink. 

it's a long walk but i get to the infamous 'mr. potato head' where i grab a tonic water and lunch. surrounded by exotic women in bikinis, sipping cocktails while taking a dip in the infinity pool. they lounge around looking glamourous on the lounges and comfortable recliners, while some very deep chill out music plays across the whole place. i could stay here all day, and i do.

getting a moter scooter back i feel the cool breeze cut through the hot heavy air, dodging oncoming bikes and cars, the traffic system here is chaos but it works perfectly unless you are a westerner. i guess there's some sort of telepathic communication going on, some instinctive understanding of finding order within chaos. 

there's a lot of lounging around, eating nice salads, reading and sleeping and then i'm heading to london.