Kathmandu, Nepal

‘On Me ‘ead Son’
Om Mane Padme Hum
I bellowed out across Durbar square, my shout was just enough to put the Nepalli kid off and the ball flopped down into the dust
momentarily his expression changed to mildly bewildered before windscreen wipering back to his usual, comfortable smile
1 – 0 to England
well actually about 23 – 1 to Nepal! We were playing a game of keepy uppies and not only was i rubbish at it, hot hoofing it nowhere, but like most of the kids, he was remarkably talented.
The ‘ball’ was made of a big bundle of black elastic bands, splunged and held together by a central rubber band, like some sort of sea urchin sputnik dish scourer!
good fun
the other kid selling candy floss looked on enviously, he wanted to play, but couldn’t neglect the business of hawking his wares
The candy floss, each in it’s individual polythene bag were hoisted on a pole above, individual pink fluffy clouds
hubba bubba above him
like possible cartoon speech bubbles, about his head



down the hurly burly of backstreets, i gawp at people, they gawp back, mutual curiosity, it seems a fair exchange!
One small child is misbehaving, his parents are jokingly tormenting him, his dad spots me, laughing, holds him up to look in my face
‘if you don’t behave you might end up like …that’
the kid is terrified, for all the world like staring at a re-incarnation of one of the beasty demons trampled down by Shiva
he has a point, i am all weary, bedraggled dreads, a bushy brian blessed beard, but now more than half grey
we all laugh



it’s a full throttle, in yer face part of town, cram cramped backstreets, where anything and everything happens
narrow little lanes, with traffic jams of pedestrians, perpetually horn beeping motorbikes and cycle rickshaws
a burly and a surge
comedy gold, i saw that staple sketch of 2 men and a large pane of glass, these poor fellows were trying to manouvere it along the street,
perplexed and worried by the whole kit kaboodle, they had to grappple with the chaos, dodging a motorbike, almost into the path of a porter,
bent double under the weight of 4 boxed television sets and a whole cage of hens
whoah, easy there, shuffle nervously too and fro

there ya go a whole splurge of local colour, the usual slew stew of adjectives, such fun for me to write!
i guess this blog, when i get around too it is goung to have to metamorphise into my travel blog. ho hum
i’m curious as to how it will turn out, with all my old epic posts, a sense of audience was easy, i knew who i was writing too
the trick was always a nice piccie, an anecdote, and then go slightly further than i intended too, but a bit of a tease, i never said ‘owt much
and i only started because it was seen as improper to send emails to who i wanted, such is life

I think as a travel blog, it should be much less polished, more confessional and raw, the blog i enjoyed most over the last couple of years was Joes
you could really empathise with it, you could tell when he was having a major wobble

yeah travelling on your own is harsh, theres lots of those moments. dang painful sometimes
some times are thoroughly brilliant, others, well, you just despair
the days are fine, always intrigue and stuff to do, but evenings spent eating dinner on your own, despair, the other night, after having not spoken with anyone for 3 days, i just went back to my room and burst into tears.
dread my own company, thats when i’ve really missed the kids
selfish really
but then the last 2 days, have been a giggle of chat. You just cannae tell whats around the corner.
It’s scarey and exciting at the same time


acchh just realised i’m away to the mountains tomorrow and theers a whole heap of things i wanted to write about Kathmandu
The riots, Bodhinath, the heart and spook spirit
hopefully when i get back!
love and heart vibes, just being still sometimes and listenning to feelings is betetr than all a babble

cheerio and toodlepip!

(just to start things rolling again, heres my leaving from epic post, seems very long ago and very far away)

Well… finally time for me to leave Epic.

Yesterday, on a bleak and windswept Wednesday i got up at 6:30 and went to London.
All to meet Amma, that Indian saint woman, the hugging mother, she is an incarnation of the mother goddess. Over the past 36 years she has hugged 28 million people, sometimes for 22 hours non stop.
It really is an incredible experience, not something for describing in words, but suspend your disbelief. if ever you get the chance to hug her. just do!
Theres a lot of heart and unconditional love in this world, we are all a small part of it.

hmmm… I would like as my leaving song ‘Your going to make me lonesome when your gone’, by Bob Dylan
because thats the song i’d always play whenever a friend of mine would leave.
despite the title it’s a sweet cheery tune, off ‘blood on the tracks’, Dylans big breakup album, but this song is just so good natured and fun, like how you feel when the rain finally blows away and the sun comes out!
i’m humming it now.

Seven and a half years! That’s how long i’ve been at Epic.
That is quite easily the longest i’ve ever done anything. A marvelous achievement!
It’s been a huge part of my life and a mostly happy time.
I started off working on Video Arts with Martin and Wangchuck and Ali and Kristy …
I’d only been here 3 months when Sibéal was born.
Nobody at work knew diddley squat about me, i was the complete new boy, but they all chipped in and turned up on the doorstep with flowers, and a babygro with a 3d lenticular vision puppy on it.
How blooming kind and supportive and generous and friendly is that!
And thats the way peeps have been to me throughout all the way though to my last db learning project, an uninspiring chore, but everybody on the team was so good natured and encouraging. hugely appreciated.
… anyway, the night Sherbailey was born, it was up in the tower block at the hospital, the nurse said ‘Mr Basgallop, nothing will happen, no baby will be born tonight, you may as well go home’. so I did.
Luckily my brov was staying over to look after Finn and he shook me awake at 3am, apparently the hospital had phoned 10 times, but were unable to wake us from our blessed slumbers.
I pegged it through the streets of Kemp town, running all the way, beneath the bone white glare of the august Full moon.
Got there just in the nick of time! hurrah, births are extraordinary and painful things… much easier in life to be a bloke!

Whilst pam was in a state of shock and recovering, I was handed my beautiful baby daughter, so in time honoured tradition i held her up to show her the view at dawn on the morning of her birth. hurrah!
here it is!
something worthy of getting sentimental about
this is what she looks like nowadays,

that is pretty much what working at epic has been about for me.
but you lot should all take a big bow, you’ve been brilliant, it’s been a pleasure!
much love

I’ll leave my African Buddha in the quiet room, as i’ve always felt it’s like the Ravens and the tower, if i take it away the building may well fall down!

…and also (going on to much as ever) i should have a leaving poem,
Pied Beauty has always been one of my faves
the other week Sibéal and her best friend Elfienan were in the kitchen and were reciting the whole thing! amazing, apparently they learn it in the school and have to do a different action and facial expression for each line
It was superb, hilarious and i’m sure just what manley hopkins had in mind, he’d have been chuffed!

“Pied Beauty”

Glory be to God for dappled things–
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced–fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change: Praise Him.