Film Revisited: The Human Centipede (First Sequence)

Katsuro: Hey girls! Hey mister! What an insane world we live in.

Horror is an interesting genre. Our media is saturated with reports of human violence and depravity on a daily basis. In fact, at the time of my writing, 24 year old James Holmes wounded and killed several cinema goers at a midnight screening of ‘The Dark Knight Rises’, another film that revels in the depiction of acts of terror and annihilation. Our society and culture is one in which real life crime and murder is sharply juxtaposed alongside sensationalised, no holds barred movie violence. Horror consistently lulls in exhilarated audiences. There is a definitive pull in people to witness, to inspect, and to voyeuristically be part of the dark damage and danger in others as they commit the most deplorable of acts. In 1998, artist Tracey Emin unveiled 'My Bed', a trashy ode to sex, alcoholism and bed ridden breakdowns, and called it art. In the same way Tom Six has made a film about three people being sewn together and called it 'horror'. If true horror is about presenting audiences with the vile and unimaginable, breathing life into the warped, twisted and unnatural, then Six succeeds.



I’ve long been fascinated with the horror genre; at the insight and revelation it can provide as it enables us to delve into the darker, more nightmarish aspects of some of societies sicker individuals. Tom Six’s 2010 release ‘The Human Centipede (First Sequence)’ is a film that has extracted much curiosity and controversy from horror lovers and loathers alike. Many reacted and recoiled with horror at a concept that is truly distasteful and projected in a most harrowing and relentless way. For this reason, I decided to open Pandora’s Box and watch a film that both intrigued and revolted me in equal measure.

The concept of The Human Centipede is simple. Lindsay and Jenny are native New Yorkers on a road trip through Europe. Currently vacationing in Germany, the two are destined for nightclub ‘Bunker’ to meet a companion. En route their car breaks down and they seek solace at the home of Dr Josef Heiter. It soon becomes apparent that Heiter is not the most compassionate of hosts. He pretends to call a car company to resolve the girl’s problem, lacing their water with rohypnol and watching the drug take its drowsy effect. Lindsay and Jenny awake beside a man who Heiter announces is not ‘a match’. He promptly disposes of the man and replaces him with Katsuro, a Japanese tourist.



Heiter introduces himself and presents his idea. Through Heiter, Six introduces us to a concept that sickening sinks to a yet untold level. Heiter, a retired leading surgeon sustained himself with a career spent separating Siamese twins. This idea of separation led him to a fascination with the possibility of conjoining, of completing and creating. His first attempt at concocting a pet for himself emerged when he connected three Rottweiler’s to form a ‘three hound construction’. The Dr reveals that he now intends to concoct a ‘Siamese triplet’ consisting of components A, B and C. As he anesthetises his patients, Lindsay releases her binds and escapes, sealing herself in an upstairs room, but Heiter, growing increasing aggressive at his escaped victim, appears at the window with a loaded gun, smashes the glass and follows her as she runs away and falls into a swimming pool. Heiter picks Lindsay as the middle piece for punishment and pushes a button to entomb Lindsay in the pool. The electricity cuts out and she returns to the house to release Jenny, interestingly choosing to leave Katsuro behind. Lindsay manages to drag Jenny outside but is shot in the neck by Heiter’s anaesthesia dart.



The three awaken connected and bandaged – a new perverted, unnatural creation, laid at their masters feet. Heiter attempts to ‘train’ and ‘torment’ his pet but tires of the lack of cooperation from the lead Katsuro who he taunts and teases with racist slurs. Katsuro’s screams of anguish keep him awake at night and he realises that his pet is less of the compliant subordinate that he desired. The centipede rear, Jenny, is contaminated with blood poisoning and Heiter realises that he must replace her, creating a four person centipede instead.



Two detectives, Voller and Kranz investigate the area attempting to locate the missing tourists but find themselves targets for Heiter’s groundbreaking experiment. The film ends unapologetically with the deaths of Voller, Kranz, Heiter, Jenny and the suicide of Katsuro who believes his selection as part of the centipede to be punishment for his mistreatment and neglect of his family. Lindsay alone remains alive, trapped between her two dead ‘body parts’.

What I have witnessed is a stark, bleak, brutal, nihilistic exploration of the meaningless of human life and the bizarre, moronic ease with which it can be snuffed out and stripped away with relentless, immediate, unapologetic and unforgiving readiness.

How can I organise my thoughts clearly when a wave of numb, shocked, apathy washed over me upon completion of this film?



The first issue I wanted to address was language. Heiter targets three foreign tourists; two American females and one Japanese male. Prior to this, language itself serves as an unbreakable barrier for the women when their car breaks down and a German driver pulls up alongside them. He converses with the girls in German but the three are unable to understand one another. As such he is unable to assist them and instead regresses into crude sexual facial expressions. Heiter himself speaks in German when he initially becomes angry with the girls leaving them essentially excluded from the root of comprehending such unbound nonsensical hostility. He is angry, and the girls know he is angry, but they do not know why. The language barrier is an interesting way of making that which is already, by the very twisted sickness of its nature, impenetrable and unknowable, even more maddeningly evasive. We can never bring ourselves to understand the deplorable workings of such an evil mind, but even if there was some way, some insight to be garnered through communication, this is blocked too and inaccessible. The Doctor does not want to converse with them, he does not want understanding, he does not want to be understood, he wants to use them.



Katsuro himself speaks no English or German and so he is completely alienated. He cannot ask why, he cannot plead for help and he cannot beg for escape. Lindsay and Heiter regularly converse but Katsuro, ironically the front of the centipede, is completely unable to comprehend a word the Doctor says. He cannot comfort the girls, nor can he insult the Doctor. He is simply stuck in the limbo of his own language. However, language is not needed to understand this assault, because it cannot be understood at all. The issue of language is one further barrier, but even with words, there is no way to grasp the horror and pointlessness of Heiter’s experiment.

Language is one in which Six enables us to experience the dehumanisation of his three protagonists. Katsuro in particular, in not being able to communicate with the Doctor, is reduced to no more than a yapping dog that the Doctor cannot understand need not answer to. Lindsay and Jenny, the mid and rear of the centipede are stripped and silenced of language altogether, stitched and sewn up so that Heiter need not address them. They are not the head of the centipede; they are merely its body. He has removed any autonomy and independence and any sense of rebellion, of courage and of spirit is literally stuck and sandwiched. Lindsay, who puts up the biggest fight, is rendered the most helpless.



The film also got me thinking about common horror themes; the sense of disassociation and individualism that abounds in modern day civilisation that enables so many to commit such atrocities unprovoked and often undiscovered. You may be familiar with Josef Fritzl who imprisoned his daughter Elizabeth in his basement and impregnated her. Many feel separate and isolated, culture and community has broken down and so individuals live hedonistic, secular life’s, barricaded in their own fantasies and escapes. Some escape to alcohol, others drugs, some sex, or video games, others retreat into a deeper, denser madness. How must one perceive ones fellow humans in order to be able to treat them in this way? Killers commonly proclaim that they felt distanced and disconnected from other humans, that they saw them as animals, or lesser still. On the whole, we are disconnected from nature, from animals, from others, from ourselves.

Heiter is a misanthrope. He confesses: ‘I don’t like human beings’. What he likes is the idea of a pet, a slave. He can transform human beings into something animal, something he feels is subservient and malleable.



The film is also an exploration of perversion and what constitutes a perverted act. Most cultures and civilisations, bound by some form of modesty or decency, are unravelling at an alarming rate as our concept of freedom clashes with ideas about morality and respect. Sex is no longer taboo. Instead it is sensationalised, saturated, commoditised and capitalised as never before. The film insinuates that the acceptance, tolerance, perhaps even normalcy of everyday perversion has enabled and exemplified larger acts. It is these smaller, almost unnoticeable perversions that act as a microcosm of a larger, festering truth. The driver who initially appears to want to help the girls instead makes a salacious remark about ‘fucking’ and makes crude facial gestures. Heiter seems to receive some sexual pleasure from the fantasy of his centipede. He reacts with great joy when Lindsay is forced to swallow Katsuro’s excrement. There is something pornographic about his joining and merging of the three tourists, the implied threesome, the intimate physical connection forged and the humiliation and training of his new ‘pet’. The film is asking us: what is the line? How much can we watch? How much can we take? What is an analysis of the debauch of the soul and what is simply a peek into the vapid black hole of soullessness?



The nature of quick, fast, instant access to anything, including that which was previously taboo, means that every fantasy, every desire, every need and every want from sex to violence to fast food can be acted on immediately with little pre-thought and little analysis afterward. We no longer need to mediate on why we want what we want. We can simply have it. The horror genre is constructed in such a way that it must continue to out-titillate and tantalise itself. This is something sex and violence have in common. ‘Vanilla’ sex and ‘vanilla’ violence can only satiate the hungry viewer for so long, before the baying mob craves more to satisfy their cravings. ‘Scream’ revealed a potent horror truth, a sacred rule, sequels must have a higher kill count...and the killings must be more inventive. Contrasting Hitchcock’s ‘Psycho’ and ‘The Birds’ with modern day horrors such as ‘Saw’ and ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre’, we can see a shift from horror of the mind (the warped Norman Bates for instance) and pure, brutal, unflinching, visual horror that leaves no room for exploration or understanding. In the Human Centipede, there is no strict, stark motivation. We are presented with a clean, sterile monster with no morals and a loose conscience, who seems to have no real reason to be doing what he does. And we like to rationalise evil with reasons because then we can understand it and box it away.



Many horror films provide us with a villain we can analyse because boy do we love to ‘understand’ the bad boy. Jigsaw is motivated by karmic redemption, Norman Bates was the victim of severe mental illness...but what intentions can we instigate for Heiter?  He is an intelligent, amoral man of great precision and skill who creates a centipede because he can, because his dextrous hands can breathe life to the brutality of his every fantasy, he can create his very own monster a la Frankenstein, and in a world of separation, disillusion and veneers of normalcy, he can do just that with complete protection and anonymity. We are protected from being uncovered because we have become unknowable.

The film generated further ideas for me also....

• What is the significance of a German doctor as the films adversary? Is it a parody, a spoof of German efficiency and history?


• What is the significance of three foreign tourists as the protagonists? Is this an exploration of the idea that the ‘other’ is always excluded, ostracised and exterminated by the native?


• What is the significance of Katsuro’s playboy tattoo? Does this represent the normalisation of hyper sexuality and the commoditisation of sex?


• What is the significance of Katsuro being at the front of the centipede? Does this reflect and represent patriarchy? Do women literally have to swallow the s*** of male leadership and influence from a position of enforced powerlessness?

The Human Centipede could easily be dismissed as something sick, irrelevant and banal, but I found it both disconcerting and worryingly relevant. I think Six’s style of straightforward, merciless cruelty reveals a great deal about the fragmented psyche of supposed normal individuals who commit abhorrent crimes. Our newspapers and TV’s are littered with them. Are we really any closer to understanding the true motivation of such consuming evil?

I’d like to explore some of Six’s own revelations and inspirations regarding the making of this film.

• Six explained that the motivation for this story came from a joke shared with a friend regarding an appropriate punishment for paedophiles. This for me introduced an interesting truth – perfectly normal people can envision pure evil as punishment for something they consider distasteful and morally abhorrent. Evil can be a reaction to other evil


• Six loathes political correctness and the Human Centipede is definitely as un-PC as they come


• Six was fascinated with shows such as Big Brother and more importantly the idea that people partook in unusual activities when they felt they were unmonitored. We are conditioned to behave a specific way when we are watched but when we are not, what comes out? What outlet do we have for the ‘darker’, uglier aspects of our natures?


• Six reflected that 'The Human Centipede' is in part a look at fascism and the ripples and repercussions of guilt felt by generations of ordinary Germans in the aftermath of WWII. He explained the film as a “grotesque [parody] of the German psyche”. We can dehumanise others when we feel they have dehumanised others in turn. History repeats itself. We are guilty of the very thought processes that have incited hatred in every corner and quadrant of the world


• Six enjoys using and breaking various horror movie clichés, such as the naive, gullible leads, the wandering through the woods and the broken down car. This sets an uneasy contrast between audience expectations and the gravitas of the subject matter

I believe that the horror genre continues to be an essential medium for the focus and exploration of our darker selves. I believe horror can be an important outlet and assist us with grasping and comprehending others completely alienating acts. Was this a film that needed to be made? This is not your typical slasher movie, nor is there a satisfying conclusion where there is a glimmer of hope for the victim. This is bleak, dire material, much like ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre’, ‘Dogtooth’, 'Antichrist' and ‘Melancholia’. There is no rhyme or reason, no sense nor logic, to the calm, static madness of Heiter and the insanity of his scheme. Is this a film to generate discussion or is Six merely seeing how far he can push us, laughing all the way? There are sensitive, psychological, poignant horrors and then there are relentless road runners that go straight to hell and don't dwell.

Undoubtedly, The Human Centipede will continue to be a cult classic, dividing and polarising audiences for some time to come.

Beauty Trick: Hair Oil Slick

Product: Olive Oil



There are a myriad of hair products on the market; solutions, sprays and serums designed to sleek, sooth, shine and soften the hair.

Some of these products are affordable and others are far pricier and involve somewhat of a financial commitment to maintain.

It seems silly to me that we spend so much on these products collectively when hair produces its own natural oils to lubricate and clean the hair.

Besides, if we are eating a healthy, balanced diet, the effects should shine through our hair, and I know many women who use no products on their hair whatsoever, whose hair gleams and shines au natural.

What has added to a nation of dry, Weetabix haired women is a tendency to over style with heat: blow-drying, straightening, curling and dying, something which most women are guilty of at some time or another.

My hair has been in much better condition since I stopped drying and styling and I actually prefer the way it looks naturally, but there is still some damage from my old straightening days.

The best cure is a permanent solution: cutting out the damage.

But if you are reluctant to do this, or the damage isn’t too severe, you might want to use products to soften dry, limp ends.

Rather than investing in expensive products that might not even work and are usually full of as many damaging chemicals as nourishing ones, you might want to try a natural solution first, which has apparently been bandied around for a long time, so naturally, I have only just heard of it.

As my hair is quite thick and down to my waist, I would like a solution that’s cheap and consistent (and preferably works!), so I tried the ‘Olive Oil’ look, a product that knocks about in most peoples kitchens (especially Jamie Oliver’s).

The effects on olive oil on the skin, hair and nails are often heralded, and you don’t need to break the bank to incorporate this into your beauty regime. A lot of oils and greases in products are synthetic and coat the skin/hair rather than actively absorb and hydrate it, creating an illusion of softness that doesn’t really permeate. A lot of synethic products cannot be actively absorbed, and those that can often also contain chemicals that are not great for your body, meaning you are absorbing all of those too.

I drenched my hair in olive oil and left if for about an hour. I ran myself a bath and washed it out.

Not only was my hair a lot softer (aside from one area of damage which is probably beyond repair) my skin was loads softer too! (Two birds with one stone).

I think I actually used TOO much because the top of my head was slightly greasy.

So learn from me:

1)        Less is more

2)        Wash thoroughly

For shiny, soft hair on the cheap!

Candle Meditation

I’m relatively new to meditation but it’s something that everyone seems to recommend consistently for every ailment in the same way that the benefits of apples, water and a good night’s sleep will never go out of fashion.

Meditation is a relatively simple process in theory. You sit or lie in a quiet position and simply let thoughts pass in and out of your mind without analysing or obsessing. In this way, you practice mindfulness. You attempt to quiet and steady the mind.

I’ve been practising a variation of a meditation/self-hypnosis supposedly used to banish fear, but I think it could equally be used to obtain focus, ease you to sleep or create a feel or mood of power, or even just a deeper connection with the elements and the soul. Fire can produce a powerful atmosphere that can totally transform and transcend regular surroundings. If you’ve ever entered a temple or place of worship, the use of candles really can elevate a basic setting to a spiritual and instinctual place. It can invoke passion, anger, lust or leadership, but when it flickers with a steady flame, it can be a source of great comfort and strength.

The original meditation is very simple.

You sit or lie somewhere quiet and light a candle (scented or unscented is a matter of preference).

Focus on the candle for anywhere between 20-30 minutes.

During this time, simply concentrate on the candle and allow your thoughts to come and go. The idea of concentrating sharpens focus and serves as a distraction. If you recall the feeling of sitting around a camp fire or by your fire place on a cold day, you’ll know there’s something soothing and calming about the pulse of a steady fire flaring nearby. This distraction enables fear to melt (or squirm) away, even if temporarily. It’s a great way to alleviate stress and anxiety and to put your trust back into all things elemental.

The exercise also encourages you, once you’ve practiced focusing for 20-30 minutes, to use this time to focus on the issue or problem causing you fear and think of ways to resolve/ease the feeling that arises. An answer, solution, relief or acceptance may come to you during these moments.

I find it difficult to sit in complete silence so I’ve created a playlist which is essentially a mixture of Native American and Middle Eastern music (with a few curve balls thrown in).

None of the songs include singing, and those that do are chanted/sung in a foreign language, meaning that I don’t focus on the words. Instead I focus on the beat and swell of the music, music that represents and solidifies what I want to feel.

I let the playlist run and stare at the flame.

I feel a strong sense of comfort, calm and the greatest paradox of all, peaceful and powerful.

During this time, I simply sit and stare at the flame, I let myself think thoughts I want to purge myself of and mentally place them into the flame. I then admire the flame. In focusing on it, I see all of its details. I start to refine and focus my thoughts repeating affirmations, ideas, desires that I want to manifest in my life and in myself. Finally, I lose all thoughts altogether and instead I just feel….alive, real, okay…

As I said, this meditation/hypnosis combined with the right music really calms the soul.

It can ease fears…

Sooth you to sleep…

Placate anxiety…

Inspire creativity…

Wake you up…

Get you in touch with fire and all traits associated with it…

Help you feel powerful…

Help you focus…

Inspire ambition/inspiration/action…

Purge you of toxic thoughts/feelings

I urge you to try it out and see what feelings arise and melt away….

Happy meditating!

Original meditation/hypnosis taken from 'The Answer' by Glenn Harrold

Two Wolves - A Cherokee Legend

An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. "A fight is going on inside me," he said to the boy.

"It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego." He continued, "The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf will win?"

The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."

The Answer - Glenn Harrold

I’m a big lover of self-help books. It’s not that I perceive myself as a particularly damaged individual in desperate need of guidance and coaching, but I am most definitely an over thinker, and I find such books very calming and ‘stilling’. I enjoy such a book at particularly perilous times; before my first stint to Thailand I got myself straight to Gatwick’s WHSmiths and loaded myself up with ‘feel good’ books or books about individuals triumphing over adversity, anything to make myself feel braver and more competent by osmosis. This time, wandering around Heathrow, I picked up a little book called ‘The Answer’ by Glenn Harrold. The inspiring motif intricately written on the cover urges readers to ‘supercharge the Law of Attraction and find the secret to true happiness’. The back conveniently reminds us ‘the secret to happiness is within you, unlock the secret with the answer’.

Now there’s something tantalizing about a book called ‘The Answer’, especially for someone as curious and into taboo as me. First of all, what’s the question?  Clever marketing strategy there. They know that people like me won’t be able to resist. The aesthetic of the book is also rather desirable. It’s a small book with gold lettering on a red backdrop; red – the colour of lust, anger, passion, volatility –it could almost be a miniature bible. What is it promising? The meaning of life? The way to happiness?

The ‘answer’ if I’m honest is ever so slightly disappointing.

Firstly, the good points.

It’s a short, concise book which means no lengthy reading, no exaggerated, tongue-twisting spiralling sentences that could be boiled down to a meagre five word sentence and no trawling through for specks of nourishing heart and soul feeding advice. The booklet is divided into sections focusing on a different ‘theme’; love, fear, career, wealth etc. and providing to the point advice on how to maximise your positive potential in these areas by harnessing the power of the law of attraction and combining this with thoughtful meditation and hypnosis. The book then provides examples of meditations and exercises that enhance the message of each chapter, enabling the reader to utilise their desires in this area.

It encourages you to think about what you want in each area of your life and then attempt to think/feel it into existence. Of course thinking and feeling alone do not cause miracles to materialise out of thin air, but they are a starting point. Rarely do you hear of positive things happening to negative people. Usually it’s because they wouldn’t recognise a positive occurrence if it smacked into them, but also it’s because negative people rarely attract positive things, and if they do, not consistently. In saying this, a rapist won the lottery once so….

I like the simple, straightforward advice. ‘What do you want? Think positive. Feel positive. Complete this exercise. Meditate’. It’s all about getting you into a good head and heart space so that you can encourage good things into your life and allow your desires to manifest. It also encourages and inspires action and doing.

I definitely agree that it’s true that usually when things aren’t happening for us, it’s because some part of us is resisting it, whether through fear, anxiety or security. This negativity can appear in many guises, from procrastination to inaction to apathy. When we think positively and move
freely, there is something contagious and infectious about this. 9 times out of 10, people will be encouraged, inspired and motivated by your confidence and competency and things will start to happen in some way. When we’re feeling negative and insecure we tend to shy away from opportunities, challenges and experiences that would promote our growth and materialise the things we want. If you aren’t feeling pretty, you won’t want to go on that date, if you don’t think you know what you’re talking about, you’ll mess up the interview if you show up at all.

I’ve read various books that revolve around this subject matter: the power of our thoughts, the importance of understanding them and utilizing positive thinking and hypnosis or meditation to increase our potential and contentment.

Read this book if:

• You like a short, concise, to the point guide


• You’re a ‘doer’ prepared to complete exercises


• You are prepared to combine the law of attraction with hypnosis exercises


• You’re on the move and need to tuck a little positive self-help away


• You’re looking forward to the candle exercise for relieving fear. This worked powerfully for me

Leave this book if:

• You’d rather a more extensive read about the law of attraction and hypnosis


• You don't want to use meditation/hypnosis


• You're looking for an answer rather than an action plan

 

 

Making Memories in Mehico (home of Bumblebee man and Apocolypto)

Place:

Grand Riviera Princess All Suites Resort & Spa – Riviera Maya – Playa del Carmen - Mexico

Duration:

14 days

Day One:

There is something about travelling that makes me feel like a child. In fact, I think it’s one of the best ways of connecting with your inner child there is. You’re seeing everything afresh for the first time with new eyes. You don’t understand a thing. In many ways you’re excluded by barriers of language, custom and culture. Instead you sink into your surroundings with your senses; you taste food, you smell the air, you exchange a smile with a local. You rely a lot more on intuition, instinct, and animalism. You’re the stranger, the wanderer in a land that’s already established itself and knows what it’s doing. There’s something equally terrifying and exhilarating about that.

The journey to Mexico enlivens and invigorates me. I feel gratitude and appreciation (two emotions I don’t think I feel enough of...) flood through me as I sit beside my mum, nearby people that I love on the plane and we discuss a myriad of issues and subjects with a glass of complimentary champagne. I feel that familiar feeling, that delightful lift as the aeroplane takes off. It’s a feeling I’ve loved since I was a child. It’s the physical pull of being dragged away from one place to another. There’s a little resistance, but overall you’re ready, and you can’t resist it.

We arrive in a thunderstorm which is unexpected but atmospheric. G feels unwell for much of the journey, we are all exhausted and the coach leaks on us, but when we arrive at the hotel, it’s a palace. I immediately feel welcomed and enveloped by its palatial halls and the gentle sway of palm trees in the hostile rain. It’s the perfect mix of nature and civilisation. If you’ve ever seen ‘Queen of the Damned’ it reminded me of the kind of grounds that Akasha and Lestat vacate too. There’s something mesmerising and magical about it – it’s Mexico!

The grounds are abundant with beautiful statues and gardens flourishing with beauty and wildness. A day of travel sucks the life out of you. We all fall asleep quite soon. PS our room is upgraded and we have our own Jacuzzi! (I only end up using it once the whole time by the way...)

Day 2:

I awake to the best breakfast I’ve ever eaten. You’re probably familiar with a quotation accredited to Adelle Davis which goes as follows:

‘Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, and dinner like a pauper.’

For the first time in my life I did just that (except the lunch and dinner were eaten as though my reign was still continuing...)

I had three plates of fruits, eggs, tacos, bacon, sausages and pasta (pretty much all at the same time). I had my 5 a day by breakfast. Never have I seen such variety. Give a person a choice and they might make the right one. My stomach wrestled between whether to feed me light fruit or stodgy pastries, so of course I placated myself by eating both.

The food consumed was swam off (probably) in one of the many phenomenal pools. This is the pool where all the activities take place. The entertainment crew, a gaggle of gorgeous girls and boys, arrange competitive challenges, Spanish lessons, dance classes, pool aerobics and volleyball games, amongst an assortment of other activities. But if you’d rather not participate in all of the excessive sport and exercise, you can swim or saunter over to the pool bar and drink yourself into oblivion with a very sugary cocktail.

The sea is the beautiful turquoise you’d expect of the Caribbean, a light frothy magical blue-green and so shallow all the way through. Powder white sands guide you down although one part of the sea was full of sea weed thanks to the stormy weather. The sea is one of the few places on earth where I feel the closest thing to contentment. I like the way you float and bob along, the way the water guides you and you can also guide it. I like the way you can slice through it like butter, or just float on it like a butterfly pinned by blue. I like the way you can genuinely let go of everything in the sea as you stare out to the water or back to the mainland or up at the sky...or down at the sea floor. I like the way you can lose time and feel like a mermaid. I just don’t like when I get salt overload in my eyes or knocked silly by a wave...

Naturally I was exhausted by all this investigating (...) so I had to have 4 plates at lunch to tide me over. I had a nap before dinner...(all this sleeping and eating is making me sound like a toddler rather than the 23 year old I am).

The people are beautiful. The women are tigers. The men...gods. Dinner...sleep...happiness...

Day 3:

Dad wakes up at 3am and me with him. After that my sleep is ‘in and out’. I can’t keep in it. So I get out of it. I sit out on the balcony and start my diary. I like the world in the early morning. It’s peaceful, calm and quiet. It’s nice to think of other people sleeping before there day starts. It’s nice to think of the potential and opportunity of each day. I listen to and photograph the birds. That’s another thing that makes me feel really happy, as in ‘heart might burst happy’ – seeing animals.

Each day they know what their doing, and even if it’s the same thing, they’re always happy doing it.

We go swimming after breakfast (I have 4 plates) and I meet a woman from Kentucky at the pool bar. We get to talking, and she introduces me to her husband. Americans are instantly friendly. There are a lot of negative stereotypes levelled at Americans – ignorant, obese, stupid. I didn’t find any of these to be true. Yes, a few were big, but no bigger than you’d find back home, and if I lived off of an American diet from the start of life I would probably be the size of a house too. Overall, I find them to be a welcoming and hospitable people. We get burgers and nachos from the beach...they also do hot dogs and paella.

This is a great option for all the sun worshippers and sea surfers. You can go up as many times as you want. Luckily for my waistline, I only went up once this time. Coatis and their babies gather by the grill. If you’ve never heard of a Coati before, it’s a small mammal that looks like a cross between an aardvark and a raccoon. They look like little Disney cartoons come to life. Despite being wild animals with human feeding prohibited, many holiday makers enjoyed chucking pieces of meat, bread and cheese meaning that the hungry animals made a habit of gathering around any human they saw with a handful of food. Some might find them annoying, but I find them adorable and unobtrusive. I felt a bit like a Pocahontas with animals flocking left, right and centre.

Back at the pool it was the US of A versus the Mexicans in a series of poolside challenges. The USA girls are all peachy skin, pearly white teeth gleaming, blonde hair and effervescent competitive spirit. The Mexicans are lean and lithe, tanned and taut with features like feral cats. The Americans put up a good fight but thanks to an injury and a girl who couldn’t sit on a balloon to save her life, the entertainers win.

Later that day we book a helluva lot of trips. We meet a couple straight out of a storybook. They become special friends to us later in the trip.

Breakfast (2 plates – getting less). I literally jump out of bed for breakfast here. I live like an animal. I’m only concerned with food and sleep and the in between is spent thinking about food and sleep.

Today is a beach day. 3 swims in the beautiful sea feeling free. I’ve started a book called ‘Spilled Blood’ which I’ll review later. Me and my dad both have a penchant for psychological thrillers. We are all given a free five minute massage – three big Mexican ladies coax a lot of the tension out of my shoulders. I can feel I’m tense because the massage is that kind of exquisitely painful – it’s good but if it lasted a second longer you might have to ask them to stop. We decide not to treat ourselves to proper, paid massages. We’re investing all our money in the trips. Besides I did treat myself twice in Thailand and they were considerably cheaper there.

Me and G bought matching white hats – Audrey Hepburn style- to wear during our first trip. We went to a different pool today. We passed our time under the bridge in the shade. I spent my time swimming widths and doing handstands. I feel energised and alive using my body (which was surely appreciative). It’s amazing what a difference movement makes. I spend so much of my time at home chained to my desk, that when I’m on holiday, I feel so much more energized just from a walk! Life in England is so ‘rooted’ – you really have to go out of your way to lead an active lifestyle.

I get a little bit ‘deep thinking’.  I realise what makes me happy about travel and holidays (one of the things) is that back home I feel a bit of a spiritual and cultural void. When I’m around nature, animals and people who participate in a culture (even if I don’t fit it) I usually feel that everything makes sense and contentment follows. The culture back home is more binge drinking and ‘The Only Way is Essex’. Hopefully I’ll take a little bit of the Mexican way of life home with me.

One thing I really hope to incorporate is the attitude of letting things go. Here, everything is ‘de nada’ (‘it’s nothing’). In Thailand, it’s ‘Mai pen rai’ (‘it’s nothing’). I’m not the type who easily lets go, so I love the flippancy and detachment of these sayings.

Day 4:

CAMEL RIDING DAY!

Most people will know (those who know we well) that I a massive animal person. I volunteered recently in Thailand with wildlife (the blog is yet to be written) and so I like to think I’m clued in as to the treatment of animals and the tourism industry. Unfortunately, I may have made an error here. We looked into the camel riding day as much as we possibly good and decided between ourselves that it seemed ethical and the animals appeared well treated. I always have massive internal debates with myself whenever animals are involved because I dislike them being used for entertainment/human purposes (however I am somewhat of a hypocrite as I’m not exactly a vegan activist myself).

The lovely couple we met whilst booking the trips are in our car (they’re going parasailing). I felt a little apprehensive this morning so I had a small breakfast. We arrive to the sounds of Mexican men strumming guitars and singing. One thing I should mention: the tips culture is VERY much alive here. You’re expected to tip people for EVERYTHING as this is where they make the bulk of their earnings. As such, everyone’s trying to impress you, clamour for your attention and put their best foot forward. Although it probably is, this never feels insincere.

We are briefed on how to approach and ride our camels: we always approach from the left, never the front or right, we sit on the back and lean back holding tightly as the camel lurches forwards and up. We can stroke the camels but not startle them. I was hoping to get Tara, the lead camel and by far the friendliest, gentlest and happiest. Instead I get a moody camel (let’s hope we weren’t matched by personality) that didn’t want to get up and had to be muzzled. When I query this later, I’m told that my camel can essentially be a bit of a jerk.

My ‘inner activist’ kicks in. I start to feel guilty that my camel doesn’t really want to take me anywhere and that if it wasn’t muzzled it would probably bite me to shreds and then not even bother to eat my remains. It’s quite exhilarating going up. You know you’re always told it’s not the amount of breaths you take, but the amount of moments that take your breath away? This was one of those moments. It’s the ‘plane takeoff’ feeling again – there’s a little tummy lurch and then you’re up and gone, a level higher than you were before, and camels are pretty high up. We could also have taken this trip on horseback, but camels felt like a more unusual and unique experience.

The rhythm of a camel is slow paced and relaxing. It’s not constant and stable like a horse trot. There’s a lot of ‘up/down’ and mild side to side lurching. Once you lean into it, it’s really quite nice. We followed a jungle path and stopped at the beach to give the camels a rest. This was where the already testy bond between myself and my camel reached a new low.

Before I get on, I stroke my muzzled camel with as much affection and love as I can muster. They are goofy pretty, with big, cow like brown eyes and long eye lashes, and silly faces that look a little cynical and murderous. My camel nestles into me and rests on my shoulder. Just as I open my mouth to say ‘awww’ (in fact I’m halfway through saying it), my camel takes a bipolar turn and sharply buts me in the shoulder. I feel a crash of pain, a splintering feeling, and fall back but not over. The pain shot right through me and I immediately felt sick and faint. I feel that sick that I can’t even speak. Instead, on autopilot, I get onto my camel and just as we set off, I feel I might pass out and fall off (I’m sure my camel would promptly trample me to death just to finish me off). Luckily my brother is not up on his psycho camel yet (it lurches up as soon as he puts one leg over) so he can rush over to me with water which seems to make a world of difference. We move on but the rest of the journey is grudgingly accepted for me because I LOATHE my camel and my camel loathes me, but he HAS to ferry me around and I HAVE to sit on him. Despite this I really enjoyed the experience and the privilege of being carried through a jungle walkway on a camel’s back. We eat a lunch at the beach and return to our hotel where we all have a long nap. I told you we were children.

Me and dad go for a walk and a swim whilst the others are still sleeping. I decided to go to the gym for a bit after the camels, which was a bad idea. My shoulder cained and I felt a little dizzier than before. The gym is small but it has everything you need. There’s a spa as well for pampering if all the exertion gets too much.

To summarise, Brendan Fraser never got butted by his camel in 'The Mummy'....

Day 6:

Today we see one of the 7 wonders of the world: Chichen Itza (I pronounced it ‘Chicken Itza’ at work). I wake up smothered in mosquito bites. I never can seem to vanquish the b******’s. My blood must be laced with heroin. I’m itchy as all hell in a straightjacket.

I pack my things; sun tan lotion (factor 50), camera, sunglasses, shoes, iPod. The car journey will be three hours and we have a breakfast box prepared for us by the concierge at the hotel.

We meet our couple friends in the lobby but unfortunately they aren’t in our car. Our journey is 3 hours in a small van of all Americans. Our guide is Sergio, a French Mexican who informs us that 20% of Mexicans are white European and he is one of them.

Chichen Itza was like being in the movie ‘Apocolypto’. It’s a fascinating, ethereal place with both an advanced and a primitive past. It’s fascinating to walk in a place where so much happened, both exalted and barbaric. I take so many pictures hoping to capture the eerie, hypnotic feel of the place, but I just can’t. If you clap three times, the clap echoes back to you from far away. The Mayans designed this place to be a place of astrology, science and precision. Everything is designed and accentuated for a purpose. This is of course the place where the prophecy that the world will end in 2012 was formed. I feel quite humbled to be in this magnificent place, both sinister and noble.

But the real highlight for me is swimming in the cenote – an underground water formation. We descend into a dark cave. The only light creeps in through a hole in the ceiling where a great trees detached roots dangled down. The cenote is lit from the inside by many lights that change colour. The water is chilly but makes you feel alive. This and Chichen Itza are two other moments that take my breath away. My body adjusts to the icy water and I swim as far as possible. I swim to the roots of the tree and around the cenote which is filled with fish. The cave is swirling with bats. I feel very peaceful and ‘Zen’ here, but then I do love water. Maybe it’s something to do with the fact that our bodies are primarily water, but when I’m in liquid, I feel healed and regenerated. If I could recommend one thing to do in Mexico, it would be to swim in a cenote.

Day 7:

I can’t divulge everything on a blog but one thing I’ve realised through my travels this year is the qualities that attract me in a man.

Obviously this isn’t set in stone. I’m not into macho, alpha male, materialism, not the contrived manly man that likes football, drinks beer and calls women ‘birds’. What I like is raw natural animalism. Are you into astrology? If you are, this man would have a Scorpio moon or be a Virgo, or something subtle and intense like that. Masculinity, like femininity, when real and unforced, is so powerful and seductive. You can tell a man playing at being a man a mile away. Likewise, you will meet a lot of little boys who think they are men. You’ll also meet a lot of men who are definitely men for sure, but don’t quite have the backbone or the intensity that you’d like. I quite admire and respect this type of man I’m noticing. It’s a hard thing to describe, but you know when you’ve met one because you feel it. Likewise I’m sure men feel the same when they meet a ‘true’ woman. But then again, this all depends on type. I’m liking the strong, silent, brooding type, but not in the ‘emo’ sense of the word. Maybe I need to get me a Native American Chief or something similar. I like these men that are ‘in tune’. They seem to understand what matters, like they’ve got their finger on the pulse of life.

Yesterday, we saw painted men re-enact a hunt and it was sexy as hell. These men were tall, muscled with amazing faces and a pure kind of confidence and purpose. They moved and looked like animals. Everyone sat watching them enchanted. I felt a little sad that something very animal has died in a lot of people. I don’t mean s****** on the carpet or sniffing someone’s butt, but something that’s really very simple, very sweet and very attractive in a person, but these guys had it, they’d held onto it (whatever ‘it’ is).

Today we spend the day at the beach where time stands still and thoughts lull in and out of your head. We re-meet the couple. We seem to find them everywhere. We exchange emails so that we can keep in touch. They’ve invited us to their home in Seattle and we’ve said they can stay with us in London.

Day 8:

Beach day! I swam 100 widths of the pool urged by D. We had a little discussion today over whether we could swim to what we thought was a distant island, but which was actually something like Cuba. He said no. But I said if I had a life jacket and was swimming for my life, I think I could. After those 100 widths I’m not so sure.

Day 9:

Today we were ‘trainers for a day’ working and interacting with dolphins, manatees, sting rays, sharks and sea lions. We looked into this thoroughly before parting with our money. The animals are very well treated and the company is rated as the best in the world for its treatment and care of the animals. The day started very interactively as our guide informed us about the park and set and concerns aside.

This was a really incredible experience for me again because it was in water and involved animals. The animals showed real personality and tenderness. We performed a kiss, cuddle, hand shake, foot press (naturally my pants fell down and I flashed everyone including my parents) and many other activities. Yes they are overpriced, but i bought all the pictures. We then saw more of the miracle of Mother Nature when an iguana ate a bird in front of us.

I think it’s important to look into things like this before doing them. Where animals are concerned it’s a sensitive issue, because you can’t always be sure if any exploitation is taking place. In this instance, we felt placated that things were fine, but if anyone knows any differently, please leave a comment on the blog. At the hotel, there were numerous picture opportunities with monkeys and birds, some of which were chained. Please refuse these offers whenever possible.

I’m starting to plan next year. A year that will make me feel alive. Get out of the rat race and the 9-5. Maybe less money but maximised happiness?

Day 10:

Every guest at the hotel is entitled to a free pendant from Lapis jewellery shop. The pendant is your name written in the Mayan alphabet. You must use between 4 and 7 characters, but my name is 8, so I used my middle name, Layla, for the pendant.

Naturally, once we were inside the shop, we were assigned a lady named Monica, who urged us to look around the shop to see if we were interested in making any purchases. At first, stoic and tenacious, I told myself I would resist buying any jewellery.

1)      I’m trying to save

2)      I have a free pendant

We left the store with some beautiful pieces. It was all on a very kind and generous dad. Our purchases were so extravagant that the manager slashed our spending by half. My favourite of my purchases, which included 2 pairs of earrings and a changeable, three stone ring was a fire opal bracelet. Just the words ‘fire opal’ made me have to own it. I felt like a phoenix or a human flame thrower or something. It’s a beautiful, subtle bracelet of orange, yellow and green that really pops and crackles on a tanned arm (hoping it will still look as good when the tan fades).

The two extra links of the bracelet where cut off and made into earrings. Monica lamented how small my hands and wrists were so we had to wait a while for pieces to be ‘scaled down’ for me. The Turkish attendee Baba took a shine to me shall we say...he could be found playing with my hair.

Day 11:

Today we rise early and head to Koba (pronounced Kobe-haa). Koba is the last of the pyramids that you can climb and you won’t be able to climb it at all next year. This is something that me and my dad really wanted to experience. We really wanted to be able to say ‘we’ve climbed a pyramid!’ It seemed like such an Indiana Jones thing to do.

We had a brief talk from our guide Daniel and then walked the 2km path to the Koba pyramid. We were told it would take about twenty minutes to climb up and another twenty to climb down. In blazing heat, this did not appeal.

Me, D and dad began to climb. The steps are an odd assortment; some narrow, some broad, and there is one rope running alongside the centre to keep climbers stable. The three of us managed it very quickly. I climbed at a crawl, gripping the rope. The view at the top was a lush canopy of jungle as far as I could see – just a great stretch of emerald green. I experienced a little vertigo, probably a mixture of heat, exertion and another moment and sight that just took my breath away. My legs shook like jelly but I made it back down on my butt. I felt I’d really accomplished something by doing this. We were driven back down the path which was another exhilarating little thrill.

Day 12:

Today we set sail with J and E (my cousin and his girlfriend) to try to find and swim with some whale sharks. There are only two places in the world where you can locate whale sharks – this park of Mexico and Australia. I was quite apprehensive about this one. Of all the things we’d done this was the one that filled me with quiet dread.

I wasn’t even scared about the whale sharks. They are very docile and placid (if very large). But I was scared of jumping off the boat and being junked up with a snorkel, goggles and flippers. I get ever so slightly claustrophobic all bound up like that.

Our journey on the boat was fun as we hit the waves and listened to music. It wasn’t long before we found where all the other boats had gathered. Whale sharks were circulating nearby...loads of them. Apparently they like the interaction with humans. You keep a distance and you never touch them or they shrink away. The sharks swim near you curiously but keep a safe distance too. The others went in first and G’s bravery pushed me to do it too. I felt sick as I sat on the sight of the boat but in we jumped. Seeing the whale sharks up close was very memorable and I’m glad I chose to do it. They are neither whales nor sharks, despite the name – instead they are really just oversized fish.

It was interesting to see their big gaping mouths coming towards us. Despite my fear, I am so proud and happy that I swam with the sharks. We then set sail to the ‘Isle of Women’ or ‘Women Island’ – a beautiful island boasting crystal clear waters – the most beautiful I’ve seen and pure white sand. We ate shrimp from plastic cups and drank coronas in the sea whilst tiny fish nibbled E. I bought an ‘I swam with whale sharks’ top. I can officially say I have now! All proceeds go to the conservation of the species.

Back at the hotel me and mum had hotdogs and I couldn’t resist feeding one of the baby coatis who bounded towards me like a bright eyed bushy tailed Disney character.

Later that day in the shower, I have a moment of pure contentment as the warm water hits me. I feel lucky, happy and grateful. I have water to drink, food to eat, a roof over my head and a holiday full of memories.

Day 13:

I’ve started a book called ‘Me and my Sisters’ (review to follow) which tells the tale of three sisters and what it means to be a modern day woman. This is a topic I find interesting seeing as there is no typical man or woman anymore. We all find our own way in life now which can be wildly disorienting or chaotically fun. I’ve mentioned before that currently I don’t want to be a wife or mother and I have certain opinions on relationships and marriage etc right now that are probably not typically traditional. I guess I’m learning what all this means to me. Right now I want adventures and experiences and I’m figuring a lot of things out about what makes me happy and gives my life meaning. I’m already learning what doesn’t make me happy and that’s 9-5 office life and it’s also not London (at the moment anyway).

This book was just what I needed right now. It’s helping to put into perspective that there is no right way to live a life. However you live your life, someone will criticise and judge, so it really is of paramount importance that you live a life that you can respect and enjoy. There is only ever a series of different roads that you can choose to go down or ignore. Only you know if the road you walk is worth it, or if you’re curious to take a walk down another.

What to study? Where to go? Who to give your heart to? Babies or no babies? If so, when? What job will fulfil you? Where should you live?

We have so many choices that these questions have gone from simple to impossible. Some people are born knowing. Some are clueless. Most of us are figuring it out.

I’m realising if I follow my heart and instincts, I can’t regret too much. The times when I’ve followed these senses have brought me the most happiness AND the most pain (aka LIVING!). I guess I’m quite excited to see where life will take me and all of my friends if we’re brave enough to just go with the flow. Where will we all end up?

We met a bouncy American girl selling tickets to Coco Bongo. She reflected this whole idea perfectly. Her parents were horrified that she was essentially selling tickets on a beach but she was loving it. She was living. She was happy. So is happiness really money? Is it really success? Is it just the tiniest, littlest place where you find bliss?

Me and mum sit and talk for ages about life and love looking out over the water at night. We walk to the beach and stumble across a wedding celebration. Singing, wild dancing and the beautiful wilderness of a dark beach.

Day 14:

What’s weird about diaries is that you’re always writing them a day after. This is D day. We’re off home. I’ve really loved this experience. It’s a beautiful, welcoming and hospitable place where you can chill out and relax or immerse yourself in Mexican living. I’m sad to go home. I can already feel the malaise of England, but for now it’s inspired me to make this year and next, bigger, better and happier.

Quick tips for travellers:

• Mexico is renowned as a dangerous country. The Maya Riviera is a very safe and secure area filled with resorts. We encountered no troubles here


• The resorts are primarily popular with American and Canadian travellers


• Please investigate and research any activities/days out involving animals as there is always a risk of exploitation, even if you are coerced into feeling that your money is benefitting the animals. Please do not allow yourself to be pictured with any wild animals


• You are expected to tip!


• There are several trips you can go on from visiting Chichen Itza, climbing Koba (if you have a real interest in doing this, do it before the year is out!), swimming in cenotes, zipwiring and much more


• If possible, make time to visit a Mayan village


• Be prepared for mosquitoes – lots of them!


• Embrace the Mexican way of life – ‘de nada!’

The Big Year

What would you do if you had one year in which you could do anything? Chances are it wouldn’t be bird spotting, but Brad Harris (Jack Black), Kenny Bostick (Owen Wilson) and Stu Preissler (Steve Martin) are doing exactly that, participating in a ‘Big Year’. During this year, they have to ‘spot’ as many birds as possible, from the common to the elusive. The participant with the most spots (no, not the acne kind) is crowned King (or Queen) of the Big Year. The previous Birder of the year, Bostick (Wilson) is desperate to defend his maddeningly excessive record of 732, abandoning his wife Jessica (Rosamund Pike) and their attempts to conceive a child in order to ascertain who of the frenetic bird watchers are his foes and opponents.

The film is an intriguing look at the reality of following our dreams.

Firstly, when you confess your dreams, most people will bluntly state: what the f***?  You’re giving up X, Y, Z to do WHAT? Or look at you with dementedly confused acceptance. The reality is, one person’s dream is another’s nightmare (or night in). Brad (divorced and unemployed at 36) has a father who simply cannot fathom his sons passion for birding and his desire to derail a year of his life in pursuit of cries, calls and sightings, instead of getting his s*** together. Stu’s firm cannot comprehend why he would throw away a lifetime building up a successful business just to abandon it overnight for a flight of fancy, and Kenny’s wife is infuriated and devastated that furry critters come first for her distanced, compulsive husband, leaving her very much a bird in her own cage struggling to keep the day to day running in his absence.

Secondly, what is your reason for pursuing this dream?

For Kenny, its glory, the cementing of his success, an achievement, which he  viciously guards like a mother hen fending off potential challengers to her young. Kenny would forsake a family and the actual continuation of his name and lineage for a title and the status and accomplishment that comes with that.

For Stu, it’s a shot at another kind of big time, away from business and board rooms.

For Brad, it’s about doing something that he genuinely wants to do.

Thirdly, what allows you to follow a dream?

For Brad, its easy….he’s already messed up his life. There is no real risk or danger. Without a job or family, he has the freedom to make mistakes and act for his own interests.

For Stu, it’s a supportive wife and the assurance to walk away from an established, decade’s long career.

For Kenny, it’s sheer tenacity and willpower to pursue that dream to the brink of the horizon and back.

Finally, what fulfilment do you receive from chasing or reaching that dream?

For Stu and Kenny, the contentment is in the taking part, the journey, even if both had a strong thirst to win.

For Bosick, the measuring stick is the victory at the end. He doesn’t have time to forge genuine friendships or nurture his outside obligations along the way.

It seems there are two types of dream chasers (there are probably more but maths was never my strong point).

The type that chase a dream for the view along the way, and the type that are out to meet an end goal.

I enjoyed this exploration of three men chasing a dream, all for different reasons and with different expectations, sacrifices and results.

You might remember the three leading men and star chasers for their comedic roles – Jack Black (School of Rock/Tropic Thunder), Owen Wilson (Zoolander/Wedding Crashers) and Martin (The Pink Panther/Cheaper by the Dozen) and although there are moments of hilarity, this is a touching drama and is unusually interesting despite the potentially dry subject matter. Don’t write this off as ‘just a film about birds’. It’s really a film about dreams and what we give up to chase them.