Day 2: Saturday 8 May – Hotel Oasis

After waiting another 4 hours for them to process our visas and another two hours after that for some transport, we eventually arrived at the hotel at 6.30am; having eaten or drunk nothing since the paltry sandwich and bottle of chemical fizzy pop in Malta. In all this time we had become painfully familiar with the phrase ‘five minutes’. In Libya, or at least under the wing of Air Afriqiyah (which incidentally I would recommend to no-one) everything will take ‘five minutes’, even if in painful reality it will take nearer five hours! Faced with the prospect of breakfast, we were again fobbed off with the cheery promise that in ‘five minutes’ all would be well and food would be coming. Talk about testing the patience of a saint! Well, by 7.30am – 23 hours after leaving Manitu’s house in Beckenham – we were fed, foot-soaked in the only way we could (I filled the empty bin with water!!!)  and in bed at last.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

When we awoke we realised that we were literally in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in the broad vicinity of the airport, surrounded by farms and non-descript brick buildings. Apparently the hotel’s existence was in itself a small miracle as there were strict bans imposed on building on what was plainly agricultural land. But then we realised that Air Afriqiyah who owned the hotel was in turn owned by Gadaffi’s daughter! The rooms were nice enough – but it certainly wasn’t Ghana.

In our journey we were less than halfway. So our attention turned instead to Libya. Interestingly there had been an attempt earlier in the year to hold a programme here in Tripoli, but the plan had fallen through. I texted various people and it seemed that there were no yogis in Libya, but there was a man who had come to several programmes at the Arabic centre in Vienna, which is run by Franz and Edith who also run the programmes in Morocco. The name of the gentleman from Libya is Selim Ezeway and thankfully we were able to contact him and set up a meeting with for the next day. So our impromptu stay was beginning to bear some fruit.

Meanwhile, we decided to venture into Tripoli and spread some vibrations, while also trying to find some footsoak bowls and some salt! We entered a shopping mall and were hit by a heavy vibration that made you feel tired and sleepy. Luckily we had a secret weapon – vibrated water, which we sprayed liberally around the shopping centre as we walked around. Amazingly, after a very short time, the vibrations completed lifted and it melt much lighter. Even the people seemed to brighten. Especially Obi, who rediscovered his passion for mangoes in the fruit stall. Baklava sweets were also very much in our eye and later on the tongue.

So, laden with bowls, shopping and mangoes we headed to the sea and had a wonderful footsoak on a local beach, which was buzzing with local families having a day off. The sand was a little rubbish-strewn, but nothing can beat the cleansing power of the sea; and afterwards we felt greatly revived after the drawn-out marathon of the night before.

That evening we chatted to the other passengers at the hotel and some even came back to our room to meditate with us. Another called Kirsten who works for an NGO in Ghana was very keen to come to Sahaj programmes in Accra.

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