The sun-goddess goes into hiding

Fremantle has been a sauna today hitting in excess of 40 degrees at midday. Even this sun-goddess was running for cover. I spent most of the day engrossed in the rough guide to South East Asia. This was a mistake. With the exception of Brunei (too expensive for a girl on a budget), I want to go everywhere. I am now considering taking in Cambodia and Laos as well as Thailand, Vietnam and Indonesia.

Chuck in an article on on a woman's fabulous experience of the Oasis resort in Koh Samui and out of nowhere I am contemplating ten days in a resort where massage, meditation, ginger tea and (would the squeamish and prudish avert eyes here please for a sentence ot two) colonic irrigation. (Not the posh Western version where you watch stuff go down tubes whilst reclining on a towel lined massage table) but a board over a bog with a lump of tube up your butt. In addition to all this the resort (for ten US dollars a night) has mandatory fasting.
"Fasting" I hear Amy yell, "you mean no cake"? "Fasting, our Joo the rest of you join in, but she loves her grub" "oh my baby, she's trying to slim her way back to happiness" thinks a distraught mother somewhere in St leonards on Sea.
To answer you one by one, yes no cake, yes I love my food, and no, it's not an attempt to starve myself back in Sammie's affections.
The reporter reckons she got in touch with all her inner self, started to revel in the simple stuff, found that the no food wasn't that tough once you got through the first few days, and that everyone who did it became creative monsters, in touch with their emotions (which may sound crazy after coming out of a five year relationship, but perversely doesn't scare me as I reckon it could be cleansing) and, in addition to the washboard stomach and feeling of yogi - karma, had fabulous skin, energy to burn and went ballistic for a bite of watermelon on the tenth day.

So, I'm interested. Seems everything happens for a reason and the five quid ($12) wellbeing magazine that leapt out to be brought despite blowing the daily budget, was indeed I reckon, planted at my eyelevel on purpose. Add in that fact I've already done a 4 week detox this year which made me feel toptastic and I want to look fabulous for the Turtle-Jupp wedding. Consider it's a way of being under budget for a solid stint, repaying the cookie jar debt and helping my writing by getting me to a calm sensory deprived state where apparently dreams are vivid, fears are confrontable and life plans fall on your lap (I made that life plan bit up but you get the gist) and suddenly "hello Oasis resort" is what I'm thinking. Comments via the blog appreciated, as long as they don't start with "are you nuts woman?"! (The answer to which is, today, the people who claim to be "normal" are probably the ones most likely to fall off the planet Sanity).

Tomorrow is also quit day for la fags, I plan to get in the water and ask the Dolphins (you didn't think I'd forget to mention them did you?) to put in a good word for me to join them if there is such a thing as multiple lives (two hours of day working - which is actually feeding, then surfing, traveling in their sleep, swimming, larking around and having sex - plus the quadruple bonus of being the only creature to scare sharks - that's the next life I'd like!). I reckon no smoking on a day like that should be easy, and to ensure the rest of the week goes as smoothly I am booking the trip Tuesday and taking photos round Fremantle, then heading off to Rottnest Island for the rest of the week.

Rottnest Island is half an hour from here by ferry and home to the Quokkas (miniature 35 cm kangaroos). It's a car free utopia with sparkling beaches, turquoise swimming holes and fabulous walking trails. The backpackers there is housed in an old jail and apparently feels like it - and the managers act like it, so I have skipped that and gone for a nice hotel with internet access so I can keep blogging. I head back to Perth Friday to pick up my free lift to the airport courtesy of the travel company, then off to Bali. That's a week I reckon to assure non-smoking success.

Life is mad
Which is half the fun

Julie x