The World at my Feet E-Book

Monique Teggelove

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Deutsch

Seitenzahl: 200

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Traveling across the seven continents, the author experiences what it is like to step into the fog of notknowing, to lose sight of the shore, to go with the flow of life, to trust in higher powers and to climb from the valley back to the top. Monique takes us on a camel trek in the Sinai desert, to a tribal meeting in the Andes, on a hiking trip to Machu Picchu and on an adventurous journey from Peru to Bolivia. On Christian Island in Canada she receives a yellow heart and on the Faroe Islands she goes hitchhiking. In Australia she visits Aboriginal sites, in Japan she challenges herself to eat fugu and during a boat trip to Antarctica she learns about historic huts, albatrosses and penguins. Finally, she returns to Egypt to meet Sekhmet. Monique has traveled through more than fifty countries and lived in Mali for eleven years. Tue World at my Feet is her third book.

Leseprobe

The miracle is not to fly in the air or to walk on the water, but to walk on the earth.

— Chinese proverb

To

Barbara Johnsin heaven

Preface

For me personally, the year 2005 was a year of massive changes. I had been struggling for a while with the lack of meaning I felt in my job and in my life in general. People were happy with me and my work, but at the end of the day I drove home wondering why I wasn’t.

In June that year I had put my apartment up for sale, and I dedicated the summer holidays to a series of workshops focused on personal growth and healing. I felt change coming and had no idea yet to what extent it would be. When I sold my apartment I hadn’t yet been able to find a new place. In fact, I had been utterly surprised by a series of events, including real estate agents refusing to communicate my bid to the home owners, and two other places being withdrawn from the market.

Shortly after I had put my apartment up for sale my close friend Marloes was visiting. Sitting at the dining table she suddenly started to sob, sharing with me that she had had a vision: I would be going abroad. I had looked at her in surprise and had assured her that I had no intention at all to do so; I was just going to move.

Sure enough she was right. There was no house waiting for me. Instead, I quit my job, sold my furniture to the man who bought my apartment and gave away most of my belongings. I was living life in the fast lane, and regularly felt like a spectator standing on the side-lines of my own life. Like on the day when I wondered if I would still need my car after my last day at work. That same evening my car was broken into and the steering wheel was damaged. I could not even drive home with it anymore and had a good laugh over the answer having been given so quickly. It felt as a sign that I had no more control over the direction of my life. Instead, I simply would have to surrender.

The weeks that followed were like a rollercoaster ride, where everything clicked into place like it was predestined. My brother offered me a room in his house for the in-between-travels-time. Marloes gifted me a backpack. And I, I was going with the flow, trusting that everything would unfold, and so it did.

When I had put my house up for sale, I had a clear wish: I wanted more room and freedom. I did not quite get what I initially had in mind. I got more: the entire world.

Had I expected to become a full-time traveler? No, not at all. Yet, I got easily used to the freedom of being untethered and of not being bound to one place. I trusted my gut feeling on where to go and who to travel with. If it felt right, I just went for it, putting aside all the ‘buts’ my mind would present me.

During five years I travelled around the world, setting foot on all seven continents. In this book I share a series of short stories, including an experience or trip on each of the seven continents.

Enjoy the read,

Monique Teggelove

Egypt, January 2023

Contents

Preface

Contents

On a Camel through the Sinai Desert

Egypt, Africa, 2005

Meeting of the Tribes, Qoyllur-Ritt’i

Peru, South America, 2006

On the Salkantay Trek to Machu Picchu

Peru, South America, 2006

Adventures on the Way to Bolivia

Peru-Bolivia, South America, 2006

Christian Island’s Yellow Heart

Canada, North America, 2007

Luxury and Hitch Hiking on the Faroes

Faroe Islands, Europe, 2008

Walking on Sacred Land

Australia, 2009

Temples, Yummy Food and Hiroshima

Japan, Asia, 2008

Penguins and Pancake Ice

Antarctica, 2009

When Sekhmet calls

Egypt, Africa, 2021

Epilogue

Travel tips

Acknowledgements

Photo credits

Literature list

Contacts

About Monique Teggelove

Other publications by Monique Teggelove

Publications in Dutch by Monique Teggelove

On a Camel through the Sinai Desert

Egypt, Africa, 2005

God takes everyone he loves through a desert. It is his cure for our wandering hearts, restlessly searching for a new Eden...

— Paul E. Miller

In March 2005 I first travelled to Egypt for a camel trek with Bedouins in the Sinai desert. I loved it so much, that once home, I instantly booked a second trip for November that same year. Little did I know at the time of booking that this was not going to be a break from everyday life, but in fact the first trip of my now nomadic life.

I love being back in Dahab and seeing Joyce and the Bedouins again. Having arrived a couple of days before the rest of the group is so good. Joyce and I have been invited to join Musa and Moni for lunch at their family home. Being the guest of a local family is always something I enjoy and today is no exception. We are being welcomed and treated as family members. As a family we all eat together and from the same plate. After a few bites I put aside my spoon and continue with my hand, as is the custom here. There is something special about eating with your hand. While many people in the so-called first world countries consider it dirty and uncivilized, I find it quite the opposite. Thorough handwashing is common practice and only the right hand is used for eating. Touching the food creates a connection, which goes beyond anything I experience when using cutlery. It feels like I am honoring and appreciating the food even more.

Moni has prepared a delicious meal. Even more important is that we are having a wonderful and fun time. It is so good to see them again, and to meet their recently born daughter, Nora.

Earlier today our group of eight was dropped off at the starting point of our desert trek, where the Bedouins and camels were already waiting for us. I reconnect with beautiful Haluan, who was such a great teacher on my March trip. He would regularly take me away from the group, showing me that I do not need to be in control and that it is great to explore off the beaten tracks. I don’t even have to think about it; I want to ride on Haluan again. But he is definitely not having his best day and even tries to bite me a couple of times. Musa decides it best to take the reins and to guide Haluan today.

There is no doubt that my energy has changed since my first visit. The past couple of months have been intense with the letting go of my job, house and old life. On top of that I met someone I feel deeply connected to and have been in touch with, on an almost daily basis.

The desert invites me to live in the here and now, to take some distance from all that’s been keeping me busy and to focus on my well-being. I will not have cell phone coverage for nine days. It provides me with quality time to just be, to feel what’s good for me and to enjoy everything to the fullest.

For some reason food tastes so much better in the desert and drinking water feels like pure luxury. The peaceful atmosphere when sitting around the campfire in the evening, sharing stories or just being quiet cannot be explained; it has to be experienced. Sleeping under the stars, far away from light pollution, is simply magical. Tonight, I will be sleeping in the same spot as when we were here during the March trip.

After a relatively short ride this morning, we have arrived at the foot of a rock cave. I remember the fear I felt last time when climbing up. And even more so when having to descend. For the Bedouins this is just a fun playground. They effortlessly make their way up and together with Joyce they tumble down having lots of fun. This time I too climb up full of confidence. I enjoy the mesmerizing view and surrender to tumbling down with the others. It makes the experience all so different. Who cares about the sand being everywhere?

Being here and enjoying it so much explains already why I had to return. In March the desert invited me to let go. Tears flowed and a surprise rainfall let me know that I was in sync with the Universe. This adventure is different. I feel I can just be; I feel blessed.

The night was cold, and I am grateful that Joyce had warned us of the nightly drop in temperature. Base layers and a warm sleeping bag have contributed to a comfortable night. The time before falling asleep, watching the stars and surrendering to the beauty of the connection with all that is, was just as amazing as I remembered it from the previous trip.

In the desert it is so easy to forget about the rest of the world. There is just peace. Being blessed with a nice group of people to share this trip with contributes to the feeling of home coming.

In the morning, I am woken by the feel of the sun kissing my face. There is complete silence. I open my eyes to a stunning view. I could easily get used to this.

We are truly blessed with the weather. The day-time temperatures range from pleasant to warm. Thanks to there not being much wind, the nights are pretty comfortable.

Today’s stretch has been adjusted since my previous visit. While it is totally understandable that Bedouin families try to make a living from tourists, the constant coming and going of people trying to sell souvenirs had felt uncomfortable for many. The change in the route is actually quite nice.

Yesterday we had a lunch stop in a rather green wadi. Two of the Bedouins had set out in search of firewood. Talal came rushing back to the camp. He had been bitten, but had not seen by what. It could have been a snake or even a scorpion. Being aware of the risks, he had not hesitated a second and given himself four cuts, so the venom could leave his body. The other team members, who had been busy with food preparations instantly switched priorities. No words were spoken; they simply set to work taking care of Talal and his wounds. And just as naturally as they had switched to taking care of Talal, someone else took over the cooking duty. I had admired the natural flow and the care shown. The Bedouin men are so connected. At night around the campfire they sit together, leaning against one another or giving each other massages. They have lots of fun together and talk all day long.

Jima, Musa, Talal, Mohammed, Ibrahim, Mahmud (the Benjamin) and Ied are an amazing team and do a great job taking care of us and the camels. Joyce is one of a kind; it is such a joy to be traveling with her again. Mirjam and Marloes, who were part of the March group as well, are also back in the desert.

The fifth day of the trek has arrived already. I have to remind myself not to count the days, but to stay in the moment.

This morning we visit the closed canyon. In March I had a claustrophobic panic attack and rushed back out with a heartbeat well exceeding anything healthy.

Yesterday evening we had so much fun around the campfire, that part of our group got all excited about the idea of walking the canyon at night. Off we went with our headlights, laughing enthusiastically about the challenge we were setting ourselves. It was short-lived. Musa spotted a venomous spider. His message and body language were so clear, that all seven of us had turned around in the blink of an eye and rushed out of the canyon. Apparently, this type of spider only comes out at night. Luckily nothing happened and it actually was quite a hilarious situation, which set us off laughing.

It feels as if last night’s experience has made it easier for me to enter the canyon this morning. Much to my surprise I feel confident enough to be the first one to enter. This means that I will have no chance at all to get out if I panic, unless all the others turn around as well.

I do not panic. On the contrary, I thoroughly enjoy the experience and navigate the narrow parts with ease. Yesterday evening I could only see a few metres ahead. My focus was entirely on where I was and I did not think about or worry about the rest. I simply took it one step at a time and trusted the guidance. Has this subconsciously created a knowing that I am capable of doing it? What a win.

In the years to come I will often not know what is awaiting me when I feel drawn to visit a certain country or place. Surrendering to the not knowing makes it easier to go with the flow.

Fellow traveler Tony surprises us all. He has brought along a chocolate letter; a real Dutch treat for Sinterklaas, which is celebrated annually on the fifth of December. Miracle of miracles the chocolate had not even melted and with precision it is divided in 18 pieces.

I find myself fully surrendering to the flow. Riding on Haluan, enjoying the desert scenery, tucking into the delicious and carefully prepared meals, having fun over the campfire games and appreciating good conversations.

This morning I grab my ipod to listen to Omashar’s music. His beautiful songs match my mood and the desert atmosphere.

Ied, Haluan’s owner, surprises me by giving me Haluan’s traditional decorations; what a very special gift. I feel humbled and rather speechless1.

We eat our lunch at an abandoned Bedouin village. It is an amazingly beautiful place with lots of fruit trees and a well with good quality water. I fully understand that people move to the city, to be close to work and facilities, and yet I do hope that one day there will be Bedouins moving back to this village. I have seen the longing for the simplicity and peacefulness of desert life in the eyes of many of the Bedouins.

Musa is incredibly proud to show us the generator which takes water from the well, allowing us the joy of an open air shower. The feeling of running water on my body after a week in the desert is quite incredible. I grab the opportunity to give my eyes a good rinse. They have been tearing a bit yesterday. Apparently, there were a few more tears to be shed from the depths of my being. The desert environment facilitates the clearing out of old energies.

The Bedouins have a more down-to-earth explanation: blue eyes cannot take in this much sunlight and get inflamed as a result. In a stern voice, I was told that blue-eyed people should always wear sunglasses in the desert.

When my car had been broken into a couple of months ago, the thief had stolen my sunglasses. One of the friends being present that evening, had made a clear statement: it was about time I stopped hiding behind sunglasses. Her remark had resonated; I had long used my sunglasses to feel less visible, and it was about time to step out of that comfort zone. Even though I strongly feel that the energy of the sun is healing, it may be wise to give my eyes a bit of rest and go for a more balanced approach. Part of the day I use my sunglasses and part of the day I ride with my eyes closed, allowing the sun to share its healing energy with me.

Riding with my eyes closed is actually quite an amazing experience. It forces me to let go of control and to do a full surrender to the knowingness that Haluan will be taking good care of me. I happily take up the challenge to trust and enjoy my inner world. Every now and then Talal or Ied checks in to ask how my eyes are doing. I appreciate their caring attitude.

In the afternoon we arrive at the sea. On the previous trip I experienced this moment with mixed feelings. It was amazing to see the sea and it felt strange to leave the desert.

Going for a refreshing swim at dusk, and hearing the sound of the wind and the waves, I feel entirely happy today. The time in the desert was precious and so is this moment.

The last day of our desert camel trek has arrived. It is fun to spend the morning at the beach. I love collecting the beautiful shells, and regret not being able to take them home. Egypt has clear regulations: no shells are allowed to be taken out of the country. Instead, I gather them at the beach and put them in a nice pattern. This way I can still enjoy them in this now moment.

We ride along the coast to Blue Hole, and I thoroughly enjoy this final stretch of the trek, breathing in the atmosphere and enjoying the connection with beautiful Haluan.

We arrive all too soon. It feels strange to be back in civilization with all its sounds and impressions. The time has come to say goodbye to the Bedouins and to the camels. Obviously, this is not my favorite part of the trip; nor is it for the Bedouins or the other group members.

The Bedouins take the camels and start their ride back to Dahab. A minibus is taking us back to town.

After dinner Mirjam and I set out for a cup of tea, a water pipe and good conversation. A great way to finish the day. It is time to go to sleep, inside, no fresh air, no stars, no campfire… Another amazing desert trek has come to an end. I know one day I will be back.

1 In August 2020, unboxing the souvenirs collected during my travels around the world, I reconnect with this precious gift from the heart, honoring my connection with this special camel. The beautiful decoration still has his smell and his memory lives on.

Meeting of the Tribes, Qoyllur-Ritt’i

Peru, South America, 2006

The future depends on what we do in the present.

— Mahatma Gandhi

Twenty years after my first visit to Peru I am back. This time to take Spanish classes and to explore more of this amazing country. There is something special about the first faraway country you get to visit in your life. So, probably it is not a coincidence that out of all the Spanish-speaking countries in the world, I have chosen to go back to Peru for my Spanish classes.

Danielle - a lovely Dutch girl attending the same Cusco language school - and I have managed to arrange some days off from our classes to fulfil a dream I have had since my first visit to the famous Inca ruins: hike to Machu Picchu. While the Inca trail is the most popular and well-known one, we have our heart set on the Salkantay trek.

As we step into the office of the travel agent to book our tour, an elderly Peruvian man is talking with the travel agent. When the man notices us, he gently rises and moves to the waiting area, gesturing us to take the seats at the desk.

Sharing our wish to walk the Salkantay trek and the dates we have in mind, the travel agent provides us with all information. There being a few others interested in the trek, we will discuss it with them first and come back later that day. On our way to the door, the beautiful old man looks at us lovingly without speaking a word.

Just before we step outside, the travel agent calls us back: “There will be a meeting of the tribes up in the mountains. The dates have just been announced; it is taking place the weekend you intend to do the Salkantay trek. I will be taking part in the event. If it would be of interest, I’d be happy to tell you more.”

Danielle and I are instantly triggered and before he has even spoken another word, we know that we want to join him on this trip. We feel privileged and are beyond happy that we have followed up on the prompting that we needed to enter this travel agency, out of all the agencies in town. We will not regret it.

Every year in early June Qoyllur-Ritt’i, a fabulous magical-religious rite takes place on the slopes of the Ausengate, about four thousand and seven hundred meters above sea-level. The pilgrimage festival, where miracles of the Lord of Snow are sought through a series of rituals, dates back to 1780.

While several friends have stuck to their plan to walk the Salkantay trek this weekend, Hannah from the US is joining us to the meeting of the nations. It is 10:20 pm on Friday when a lady from the travel agency meets us. By taxi she takes us to the bus stop, where we are boarding for Qoyllur-Ritt’i. The Limacpampa square is not truly a bus stop; it is the place which has been appointed to serve as such for this annual event. All buses leaving here have the same destination. Street sellers are taking advantage of the occasion and have transformed the street into a temporary market place. They are selling food, candles, gloves, torches and anything else that might be of use in the mountains.

It feels rather mystical to set out on a journey so late at night and to travel through the night to an unknown destination. The three of us being the only foreigners on the bus, it is clear that we are up for a truly local experience. Our hope that we would be able to grab a few hours of sleep is short-lived. The bus is filled to the brim with people and luggage and we are treated to Peruvian music throughout the night on the Madre de Dios route.

It is still dark when bus UZ-2222 parks next to several other buses at what looks like an uninhabited area at the foot of the snow-capped Qolquepunco mountain in the Mawayani community. The travel agent, our guide, is waiting for us. He had warned us: it is going to be cold in the mountains. So here we are, all bundled up. In the past week we have set out on special shopping expeditions. I am wearing three pairs of pants, including a woollen one, two pairs of socks, six layers of shirts, gloves and a hat.

A temporary village of blue plastic huts has been erected to serve the needs of the pilgrims. It being rather cold, we soon have to check out the toilets. A pair of wooden planks have been placed across a stream, with enough space between them to squat over. A frame of wooden sticks covered with blue plastic provides much appreciated privacy. Basic and efficient.