The day of the retreat, we are called upon to meet at Lucky Mall in Siem Reap, quite swiftly it becomes apparent who is there for yoga and who is just going shopping. Still a varied group ranging from 19 to mid sixties I’d guess, we all hang around until we are greeted joyfully by Tessa. She addresses us with a warmth and a smile that is infectious from the first second. We are checked off her list and our bags are tagged and loaded into a van to be taken to the compound. The people however, we are taken in tuk tuk convoy. We get in the tuk tuk with Chris and Nastiya a quiet Russian girl, I say quiet, she had a booming strong voice, just chose not to use it all too often. Chris was the first person we spoke to whilst sat down waiting. A young Australian lad, with a fine hat and a chatty demeanour, I was glad to hear he was exactly as much a novice as I was. When we arrive at Hariharalaya we are greeted with scarves and a turnout of the staff before sitting at tables filling out the necessaries for the stay and having a chat with the instructor Nu before “GONG!!!!!!!” a sound rings out that will come to be the familiar call to action of the stay.

As I turn to where the general attention in the room is directed I here a voice ring out. It is Joel. A marvellously bearded man in simple cotton attire with a cloth’d head. He tells us a little about the place and its history and welcomes us. It is here that we learn the schedule and hear about a couple of the extras we can perhaps do alongside some of the mandatory classes. We also learn a couple of the rules, the most important being the digital detox. From then until the final day, we are not allowed phones, computers cameras or any such gadgetry. There was a computer for important mail only to be used by guests if needed BUT NO SOCIAL MEDIA! To be honest it was a delightful prospect.

Firstly, I will explain the name. Hariharalaya, at least to my understanding, was the name of the place as it was way before the names of Siem Reap and Cambodia existed and it was the centre of an old Kingdom that was based in the region. It is a beautiful compound. The area is stone and sand paths winding through the traditional bungalows and fruit tree’d gardens. A beautiful balance of sunlight and shade, the compound is set out perfectly to aid and assist in the finding of ones happy self. There are various areas all designed to help find the creativity of living, from the creativity of arts and expression but also to the creativity of free thought, living in the moment of spontinaity and simply having a creative approach to life as a whole. I will never encapsulate the meaning of these ideas in my words and certainly not with the vim and vigour of such an engaging character as Joel, but I think if you look at the piece as a whole you might get an inkling.

Time in Hariharalaya is Gong Time. I have no watch, and without no phone I have no clock. The only clock sits in the dining hall but that I only looked at entirely twice during the week. Gong time is real easy.

6.30 am- Seven loud gongs to wake you up. After that, there are three gongs ten minutes before you do anything, to tell you that something is about to happen and that you ought to get to where you need to be, one gong then signals the start of that activity, this is repeated through the day.

We would wake at 6.30 each day, but I think that most of us were already awake by the time of the gongs. Then we would do a morning yoga/meditation exercise, followed by breakfast at 9 followed by morning activity dependant on what you chose, then lunch at 1, afternoon activity then for the evening we had yoga, breathing, then meditation followed by dinner. After dinner we would have our night time activities that I will go into a bit later. For now that is enough regarding the schedule and plan because really that is secondary to what I want to write here.

The thing I really want to express fully and to the best of my ability is that I fucking love this place. More than I imagined I would. More than I imagined I could. It became so much more than a break to learn a couple of yoga skills to take into the real world. It has as far as I can see, changed my world.

Back to the start then and the important things. We sat at our table, not knowing anyone, and Nu was there to welcome us. Nu is a yoga teacher at the retreat. A beautiful young lady from Melbourne she and we all got to chatting, you know as you do, the obligatory what’s your name and where are you from, followed by the what do you do. We were sat with Chris, and a few others, notably Millie and James. Between those three I don’t think it is possible to meet a nicer group of people. If I took nothing else away from the retreat it would have been enough to make their acquaintance.

It really is hard to know where to start when writing this piece, I feel that if I just do a chronological moment to moment diatribe it will do both the place and the people involved an injustice.

It wasn’t long however before we got into it. Tessa took our first yoga class that afternoon. The only tandem space available was at the front of the class. Not at all daunting. I look around and see that people are sat in what I later learned to be Lotus or simple cross legged positions all looking super serene. I was not among these folk. We had been told that before and after each class we entered and took our mats in silence, which for the most part, save a few stray words I was able to maintain, we were also asked to not lie down on our mats, which I managed, but I wasn’t going to bust out the zen pose straight away, given that I knew no reason to. The class itself was an interesting experience for me. I was thankful to be taught that I didn’t have to have the straight legs in Downward Dog, well actually I was grateful to learn what Downward Dog was and all the other moves we bust out. Turns out my Downward Dog was more akin to a Disabled Cat , but I was learning, trying, and definitely trying to learn. All the classes and all the teachers were excellent. Tessa as I mentioned has an infectious warmth, she is a bright ray of sunshine that exudes her every action. Nu has a style that put me at ease with absolutely everything we were doing, I really felt comfortable while learning…I think it says a lot that when I practice my yoga today, it’s her voice I here guiding me through in my head. Elli, the third, but by no means lesser teacher is a wonder. She has one of those same sparks of joy and mischief about her as one of my favourite people from back in the days when I lived in England, again, the yoga with her felt easy but came with a happy slice of wicked humour to boot which really ticks box on the wonderful human list for me.

So day one was an easy introduction but still tricky for us novices. It got even trickier when it came to the meditation. We did some breathing exercises led by Joel and then are guided in our first meditation. At this point all of us attempted this first one thinking meditation was easy and relaxing, and sat cross legged on the mats. Full disclosure here, I fell into that trap so often a tale is told about with new yoga practitioners. I let out a parp. A bottom burp if you like. Yes folks, that was me, I was THAT guy. Lucky for me it wasn’t a stinker, and luckier still eyes were closed, luckiest of all James on the mat next to me was a decent enough human not to bring it up. I was mortified but James is a solid human being and didn’t mention it after at our dinner. He may have been prodding me a little when he told me he thought I had the meditation thing down, but he treads a fine line between a wicked dry sense of humour and a genuinely nice guy so it could have been a cunning acknowledgement of my parpiness or indeed a compliment as I was indeed quite immersed… perhaps it was both, that’s a happy medium! Conny in the silence had forgotten to give me shit about it, so we had a laugh about it before the bedtime silence started.

Each day the yoga came easier. Still hard as balls but it wasn’t anything like a chore. Neither was getting up at what, for me at least, is dawn’s very arse crack each day. I never felt so completely worked, and tired but at the same time utterly relaxed. One lesson learned though, is safety pants. I have long been an advocate of safe underwear when required, but that memo had not been passed to one of the male attendees. Conny and a couple of others were confronted by full viewing of the undercarriage of one of the more loose under-garmented practitioners swinging, swaying and bunching in all its glory, pose dependant.

Some of the activities during the day, we took part in others we used the time to read, relax in the pool or a hammock, read or do something like write, paint or pick up a guitar. It was really great. One of the activities was the orientation to the climbing/bouldering room. It was great, here was where we first got to spend time with Caybin. He is the assistant manager at the place and was acting as the manager as it was his holiday. We went through some of the safety features and techniques of the wall. Each taking a go at doing a route or adding a move in a game of Plus One. It was a great little go, and I even went in a couple of times since. The real revelation was Chris, a little pocket rocket, he is a climber and competes for his state in Australia. There is one point in the gym that has holds at the bottom and the next step is like a seven foot twisted leap to grab with both hands. No idea how, but this guy could do it.

Caybin also led the class on Vegan Raw Baking. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but again, not important, the chocolate and coconut balls we made were absolutely mind melting. Plus we had a blast making them. Somehow everything Conny and I said became sexualised, but not hard, “cup the ball Conny and juggle it around a bit…” you get the picture. It didn’t help that Conny decided to somewhat provocatively suck Palm Sugar off my fingers either. But it was nice to chat to Caybin some more. He is a super bloke, his background is as a vegan chef and he also shares a love of the Kombucha as I do, we discussed different ideas as I plan to go into Kombucha making as and when I get back from my travels. A chap who is smart and funny, but also gentle and genuinely caring. I saw him have a chat with someone, and after he thanked them for it, and not in any douchey way, just a genuine nod of appreciation from one human to another. As I feel about most of the team there, but particularly so, I feel it a privilege to have made his acquaintance.

One of the other daytime activities we partook in was the couples yoga. It was a lot of fun. We got to try crazy things, and occasionally we even succeeded. At one point we were stacked on top of each other, on all fours, doing cat cow with synchronised arm raises, then we had to move, I’d like to think gracefully into a strange, counterbalanced free standing pose somewhat reminiscent of that “King of the World” scene from Titanic. We did fail at a couple of other things, mostly due to Conny’s utter lack of faith in me but hey ho, we gave it a whirl!

The daytime activities although fun were more yoga based, the night time was things like game night, traditional dance night and then some of the more esoteric/classic yoga lifestyle things that blew my world apart. I will explain later but first up was game night. That was a blinder. We mostly played a game called Biggity Biggity Bop. Whimsy and childish, it was a game of trying to catch someone out. The rules are too much to go into, but a whole heap more fun was had than I think most expected. It was laugh out loud funny at times when people crumble under the pressure of being pointed out. The game features multiple players having to strike appropriate poses according to the command of the person “in the middle”. The complete ensuing clusterfuck amalgamation of poses, randomly generated new poses that have nothing to do with anything or a gentle progression through the entire series of things was seriously enough to reduce us to tears. But, by far the funniest thing was Nastiya. She was the most intense Biggity Biggity Bop player ever. Basically, between her tone, stare and rushing move I have quite frankly never been so intimidated in my life. I gave up even trying. Crumbling like a weakling and if I saw her finger pointing my way, I just started walking in to take her place as is the custom for the one who fucks it up.

The traditional dance night we had local musicians lining the hall, and a horde of local children and ladies to dance in conga style with well just that, a lot more style. The dance mostly consisted of a few shuffle steps, entirely lost on us Western losers, and some swanky wrist moves, once more lost, but we gave it a whirl. After the dance was a traditional game essentially a bunch of sticks is put in a square, A player from opposing teams has to race to it and retrieve it, but if they get tagged, they lose. The leader of the Cambodian pack calls out “You, Man, you first.” That’s me. I’m paired against Anez, a considerably fitter than I am Australian and really I didn’t think it through, I just wanted the burst of speed option. However not being very bursty or speedy, not much to that plan. Somehow I was getting there first…it was here I realised the real flaw to my plan, I am a fat man with some built up momentum. Worse still my feet are sweaty. I grab the twig but have zero directional changeability, and certainly no brakes. I was tapped almost immediately, now, on the next go there was a revelation that came that little too late given I had just completed my punishment, of having to dance across the hall and present the twigs to my vanquisher, only to then sit down as a loser. The revelation is that the tag only counts if completed in the square that the twig bunch is placed in. Had I known that I of course could have commando styled it out of the way with ease like a lithe but large ferret, but alas, it wasn’t to be. There were some veritable chess matches going on with people coming to a hold up chancing their arms as to when they would snatch and run. Some successful, others not so much. By far the funniest was Chris who swooped and rolled in a brilliant fashion, sending his opponent simply racing past him. An awful lot of fun once more, despite by status as the biggest loser.

As great as these were, the best evening activities were the more learny ones. Firstly Ecstatic Dance. What a fucking blinder. It starts with us on the floor and Joel leads us through to our feet slowly, coaxing us to forget ourselves and just dance. Dancing with all the joy of a child with no care for the cool moves or the attempts to snare a lover. I never thought I’d get it it. But get it I did. I was busting it out, heavy bass penetrating my bones and joy seeping in and out of every pore. Sweat streaming from my entire being I really could not have cared less. I had a ridiculous amount of fun dancing with complete liberation, wilful abandon. Not only was it a pleasure to do, but to see the joy spread across the faces of my cohorts was a greatness all of itself.

The other favourite evening thing of mine was the fire ceremony. There was some chanting and ritual involved, which I fully went for. I fucking love a good fire me. This way I got to combine it with one of my new favourite things. Chanting is a surprising new weapon in my arsenal. I always considered it something of a mumbo jumbo. A prayer to the world and it’s mystical forces. Given that I am very much rooted in the non-mystical, non-mumbo jumbo and am a straight up atheist with basically zero belief in invisible bonds and tales of mystic realms, I never really thought I’d go for it. But…the thing is for me, it is great. It feels great. Repeating mantra is a joyous thing. The simple feeling of the vibrations of different sounds, resonating in different parts of your being is actually a simple physical pleasure. Then there are meanings behind the words, not that it matters in all cases and not that I even knew everything I would be singing, but if it is beautiful poetry about the existence of everything, great! We even sang ‘Row Row Row Your Boat’ as a mantra. Singing with gusto in a group is always heart warming. For me a choir of voice almost always finds a beautiful natural harmony, no matter whether the singers are strong or not. When it came to the fire ceremony we had to then sit by the fire and throw rice in as an offering as we finished each mantra we repeated. There were three mantras, I was in on the second round of mantras by the fire and the others I was with the rest of the group. Each of those mantras were repeated 108 times (it was during this I learned why monks have prayer beads). I bloody loved it. There is even a video on Hariharalaya’s Facebook page if you are interested, but it’s a long one! After the offerings we sat to meditate as the fire burned then slowed. A wonderful evening.

One of the other things I appreciated, for the most part was the silence. At certain times we are asked to be silent until we break it with food or such. The best of these was the day that we had a silent morning. Not a word spoke. We were asked instead to focus perhaps on artistic endeavour or quiet contemplation. It was a great morning…well apart from at the start…Not sure if this is a necessary tale but it happened. Part of the goal in Hariharalaya is mindfulness. That is to both the world at large and simple consideration for others. In mindful mind I went for my morning poo, but took my bug spray in with me, you know to mindfully mask for the inevitable next guest to the chamber. Well, so far so good, poo complete, I then sprayed my bug juice washed my hands and left. It was only upon crossing the next guest on the path that it dawned on me. I had forgotten to flush. I can only apologise fro the horror scene that greeted the next occupant but luckily I think they were either too kind or had simply forgotten in the silence to bring it up. I however spent the next few hours quietly contemplating the very real need to make my first words be of utter apology, at first I thought I should just await the exit of the next person, in full deferential, but silent bow, but then as you play it out, different options spring to mind. Given the awkward logistics involved of approaching someone to apologise for a ginormo shit cadeau in front of a group of hitherto silent folk, I chose the pretend it never happened option instead.

However, once that decision was made, I had a blast. Drew my first picture since university in the early 2000’s, Even wrote some poetry and fully enjoyed myself doing it. James drew the most amazing picture of me whilst we were in the art room that afternoon (he was drawn in by the beardy wonder), so much so I have it still with me, hoping it survives the journey unsquished.

We even had a jam night as that evening’s entertainment. Turns out whereas I am jack of all trades and master of none, James is master too. Boy can that chap sing a song, and his own song was wonderful. Better still, despite my usual shyness and reticence to sing or play to and with other people, there was a nice feeling in the air and we along with Nu (who can also sing and play way nicer than my hamfisted approach) jammed out some songs and it really was nice.

The biggest and greatest revelation of the whole thing came not from without but within. I learned things there that I will never forget. Joel does these things he calls Dharma Talks. He is a very engaging speaker. If a little funny at first because he often closes his eyes, kind of to limit the information overload. Still he has a really interesting way with words and timing that seems to resonate. I’m not able to recite his words nor would I want to, but in the moment, in one way or another a lot of what he says makes sense. I don’t even subscribe to the same philosophies on life and creation and such as him, I don’t even know really where he sits on that, but all of that is kind of redundant. The truths we find or I found to some extent are not in the details and minutae of verbosity, language and terminology. It’s in finding a balance within ones self and the world, or maybe even the universe. I am by no means complete, nor have I found that balance, but still, through the practice I learned there I really do feel I can edge a little bit closer. To live my life that little bit more wholly, whatever that means. The idea of living the moment, embracing the child in us to enjoy the marvel of every second. This is best highlighted when Joel, new to talking on a web stream, remembers that he is and a spark of joy spreads wildfire across his face, his eyes not only open but positively beam and his smile radiates from deep behind the beard. While there is talk of the things that I don’t necessarily agree with (nor do I disagree with those that think them, it ought be said), none of that is the important. I don’t see the world as energy flows or deep rooted invisible connectivity and predestiny or intelligent creator/curatorship, but that is just the terminology employed and chosen by the folk leading the way here. What they do is set you on your own path to follow your yoga. To ultimately through a few simple tools and a mindful approach to become the real you in a way that only you can teach yourself to do.

The people I met there, not just those mentioned but the likes of the inimitable and ever resplendent Rosie, Phil and Anez, the Tamars, Claire, Bronwen, Oreana, Hari and more, I am truly glad to have spent time with you all.

It is by far one of the greatest experiences of my life so far and I think this place is, has, was, and could or should be something for everyone. I could not say with more certainty that the world would be a far better place if everyone got to taste a little Hariharalaya in their lives, and I would see as many people do so as I can. To this day I am practicing my yoga daily, and even increasing my meditation times. It truly is a wonder and the magic is deep and true.

Simply put Hariharalaya is thus far my favourite place on Earth.