Astrology, fortune telling and real life

Blogging is quite difficult. Short blogs seem better than longer ones but sometimes longer blogs are required.

Next week I will have been married to the same man for 53 years. In anyone’s book this is a long time. A life time. I could witter on for quite a long blog but I’m not going to. Here’s a photo of the bride and groom. So young, so callow …

Years ago, in Australia, I went to a Chinese astrologer. This dear old man told me that, because in Chinese astrology I was a monkey and Roland was a tiger, there was no hope for our marriage. He then asked for our Western astrological signs – a bull and a scorpion. Even worse! He was flabbergasted when I told him how long we had been married. I think at that stage we had been married about 25 years. Oh well, you can’t be right every time.

In South Africa, a Greek lady once read my fortune in coffee grounds. She was quite accurate about my history – possibly because her daughter was a friend of mine. I can’t really remember what she had to say about my future and, in the event, it would all happen as it happened anyway.

Even further back I had a reading done by a strange man who was more concerned with how I pulled faces when I spoke (I do, I know I do). He was also concerned that I should pay him immediately. I remember nothing that he said but I do remember that he was pretty creepy.

There was one astrologer I visited annually, here in Western Australia. She would draw up my star charts and her readings were usually excellent. She would tape the reading and give me the tape. Her readings for the year ahead were quite specific and accurate. I was sorry when she stopped her work as an astrologer and went to uni to do a psych degree. I imagine she would have excelled as a clinical psychologist.

Many of the times I visited soothsayers, astrologists, fortune tellers and the like was when I was in a state of flux. When I was at the crossroads, so to speak. I can remember sending a friend a cartoon of myself standing at the crossroads with signs pointing north, south, east and west. This last weekend when I was at a mindfulness retreat I drew a picture of myself with many pathways leading who knows where. In my drawing I’m heading off the page following a magpie. You’d know it was me because of my purple top and dark sunnies.

I’ve learned now that life keeps on whoever I consult. I make decisions which may be right and may be faulty but I do what I do.

Roads, Rocks and Buffalo

Water Buffalo on the road

The road to Tanjung Aan Beach is not the best we’ve ever travelled. Roland immediately named it The Binga Highway after the road between Binga and Kamativi in Zimbabwe (the worst road we’ve ever travelled). Water buffalo on their way to the beach keep the pace slow. Their skin looks like it is made from thick grey canvas with bright pink underneath, especially the males’ testicles. What do the buffalo do on the beach? I don’t know – they just seem to roam around and then go back from whence they came. There are many children with buckets on the road. I thought they were begging – which they are but also filling in the potholes with dirt! So tourists are invited to give them money for fixing up the road! Abdul (our driver) took the road slowly, dodging water buffalo, children, tourists on motorbikes with surfboards on the side, and potholes. In fact, the road was more potholes than road. This southern end of Lombok has a similar climate to Northern Australia. At this time of year (August/September) the rains have not yet arrived and the landscape is dry. Hence, the crops on the side of the road are similar to Zimbabwe – tobacco, maize, fodder for the cattle.

Tanjung Aan Beach is a beautiful spot. The day we went, there were few people and not many hawkers. Abdul told us to ignore the hawkers – he really looked out out for us wherever we went. but even he had to pay to park the car in the shade!

Building a shelter for the tourists

Beach dogs scavenge along the water line. I heard that the bitches whelp up in the dunes behind Warung Turtle. Some beach dogs die because of eating blowies (toad-fish) which are deadly poisonous.

We climbed to the top of a huge rock. Going up was easy enough but coming down was a different story. I had to slide down on my bottom. There were a few other people on top of the rock including an old woman with a bale of sarongs. She was sitting right on the edge of the rock over the breaking surf. When she stood up she hefted the sarongs on to her head and gracefully made her way down the rock … standing up!
The sand at this end of the beach is not crystals but round grains. I believe quick sand is similar and it is difficult to walk through – dry or wet. I can only compare it to tiny ball bearings.

View from the top of the rock

There were a few surfers; from where we were standing they looked to be children. The surf was enormous. Since returning to Australia we’ve heard of three surfers going missing off Bali and Lombok.

More to come. Watch this space