So on Sunday morning, half jet-lagged I arrived at the yogaplace after walking for what seemed like 100 miles,or should I say kilometers?. Yes I am exaggerating.
The yogaplace is on Bethnam Green road, in a neighborhood right next to the exploding Bishop Square area, adjacent to "the city", and yet, quite a poor place. As I walked I saw a market of what seemed to be homeless people selling wornout stuff (records, shoes, novels) that probably nobody would want to buy or even trade. Not even other homless people.
Practice was not that good, I was stiff and disconnected, and on top of things, my ladies holidays seemed to be keen on joining me before they were scheduled, a surprise. But the place had so much magic. I loved the open area where people were boiling tea, and the white 50's cabinets that covered the walls. We were only 4 people practicing (quite a difference from my NY Sunday class where we get 15 people even as the class is beginning).
Charlie, the authorized teacher was not there, so his assistant helped me and she was very perceptive.
The walk back was a pleasure. I love Sundays. I loved the walk back from yoga, taking my time, enjoying the sun, buying tea and musli (european for granola) at Tesco. It was just perfect.
In the afternoon I met Michael, a good friend from NY who now works in the document production center, and we kept on walking back and forth from Euston Station a few blocks in search for a street in which I thought I would find a really nice restaurant I read about. People kept pointint us in the opposite direction and we kept walking for about 45 minutes, one way, then the other, then another way, and so on.
Finally we got to the 5 star restaurant called Prince Andrew, only to find it closed! We ended up in a good-ol-English pub having fish and chips and talking about love and relationships.
The yogaplace is on Bethnam Green road, in a neighborhood right next to the exploding Bishop Square area, adjacent to "the city", and yet, quite a poor place. As I walked I saw a market of what seemed to be homeless people selling wornout stuff (records, shoes, novels) that probably nobody would want to buy or even trade. Not even other homless people.
Practice was not that good, I was stiff and disconnected, and on top of things, my ladies holidays seemed to be keen on joining me before they were scheduled, a surprise. But the place had so much magic. I loved the open area where people were boiling tea, and the white 50's cabinets that covered the walls. We were only 4 people practicing (quite a difference from my NY Sunday class where we get 15 people even as the class is beginning).
Charlie, the authorized teacher was not there, so his assistant helped me and she was very perceptive.
The walk back was a pleasure. I love Sundays. I loved the walk back from yoga, taking my time, enjoying the sun, buying tea and musli (european for granola) at Tesco. It was just perfect.
In the afternoon I met Michael, a good friend from NY who now works in the document production center, and we kept on walking back and forth from Euston Station a few blocks in search for a street in which I thought I would find a really nice restaurant I read about. People kept pointint us in the opposite direction and we kept walking for about 45 minutes, one way, then the other, then another way, and so on.
Finally we got to the 5 star restaurant called Prince Andrew, only to find it closed! We ended up in a good-ol-English pub having fish and chips and talking about love and relationships.
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