Last Friday, two close friends and I set off on a road trip. It was just like old times, except instead of a weekend’s worth of booze we each loaded the car with modestly packed bags containing leisure wear. We were off on a two-night yoga retreat.
The weather was drizzly and the forecast was promising more of the same for the weekend, so thoughts turned to red wine but we maturely resisted the urge.
We drove ahead of the weekend rush, escaping north and then slightly west into the green of the Glasshouse Mountains. Getting out of the car in the cool afternoon air with the mountains looming large in front of us, I felt my shoulders relax. Time for me. To restore. To get a guaranteed uninterrupted sleep. Continue reading