Tonja and the Pirate, tales from a gypsy yogi and her bike.

They always say, when you stop searching, you find what you’ve been looking for.

A Pirate.

Not just any Pirate, mind you. A swashbuckling, Johnny Depp look alike, complete with sparkly bandana, baggy trousers, boots, and weather worn face---Pirate.

My story starts innocently enough.

After a very successful Yoga workshop in Dubrovnik, the ancient walled city in southern Croatia, I had a week before my next gig in Zagreb.
They all say head to the Islands when in Croatia, so, panniers packed on my bike, I set out on the next ferry to Mljet, a jewel like island about two hours Northwest from Dubrovnik by boat.

Mljet is known for its natural beauty, secret coves, clear turquoise waters, lush forests and clean empty beaches. I felt like I was on the movie set for Blue Lagoon, it was so beautiful. The humid warm air and foliage also reminded me of islands I have visited in Thailand, so I felt like I was really having a double holiday.

I spent a blissful day, hiking the trails in the National Park that was near my accommodation.

That evening I decided to treat myself to dinner, and as I was settling in with my first glass of wine, when a French woman about my age, who seemed to be travelling alone, appeared in the deserted restaurant. I invited her to join me.

Alex turned out to be fantastic company. She is an artist and Marine archaeologist who dives on Wrecks for a living. She dives, tracks the eco sustainability of the wreck, then in her spare time, between sailing around the world, and her horse in France, draws the old wrecks in pen and ink. Sounds a little like someone else’s life I know. Physically she is very similar to me, and we both were delighted to find each, kindred spirits with a similar Esprit de Vie.

She was just inviting me to visit the boat, when in saunters her most unusual and captivating co-worker, the Pirate.

Enter, Oliver. French Pirate Extraordinaire.

He was a perfect storybook Pirate, and all that was missing was a slight “arggh” and the damn feather in his hat. Now, I have attracted some very interesting characters in my story of men, a Cowboy, a brilliant Iconoclast that was fond of wearing my dresses, Rock stars, Black Giants, Russian Circus Freaks, and men with all manor of piercing, tattoo’s and alternative lifestyles, but I never ever thought I would meet a Pirate.

Not only is he a Pirate, but also Oliver designed, built and currently travels with the research ship wherever it goes. Absolutely charming, and a bit mumble in that Depp Pirate way, he bought us dinner and drinks, and soon a suggestion of me hitching a ride back to Dubrovnik on there boat circulated.

Now, as fun as a sailboat ride might sound I do need to tell you that boats et moi don’t mix. I have a very weak stomach for rollercoaster rides that don’t have a saddle and four hooves.

But, never one to turn down adventure with a Pirate, I conceded.

The next morning, we set sail.

Bike firmly ensconced in the Cargo Load, and Directions given in French to the crew (I guess that some how included me) in case of mishap, we were off.
How wonderful to stand at the bow of a sailboat, feeling the breeze brush my face, and the mist from the Adriatic blow through my hair. But as we left the safety of the Island Archepegalego, the wind started to pick up, clouds loomed overhead, and sea turned bruise blue.

Suddenly, with a loud “crack” the sky opened up and the waves swelled in great valley’s to meet the deluge. It was in a moment total chaos. The wind was so strong we had to hang on to the ropes as the waves crashed over the bow of the boat. The sea became like a giant rollercoaster set on the devil’s course, careening and bucking in all manor straight to hell.

I wanted to die.

All I could do was hang on to the side of the boat, and let my guts try and come out my mouth as the waves spit and sprayed over me. I have never been so sick, miserable and soaked in my life. The worst part is, there is no way off this ride. I started to conculate, which would be worse, die in the boat being sick, or dying trying to swim to the distant islands that seemed like a dream away.

Finally, four hours later, we entered the Dubrovnik Harbour, and like nothing had ever happened, the Sea immediately went calm. I just lay down on the deck and started crying.

So much for impressing the Pirate.

I couldn’t unload my bike fast enough and get on that damn boat. They were so sweet and offered to talk me for dinner, but since I could hardly stand, I declined. Plus, I had a bus to catch for a 10 hour over night bus back to Zagreb.

I thought, how the hell am I ever going to teach a weekend workshop the very next day in my condition. It was the biggest workshop we had planned, at a beautiful modern Studio in Zagreb, and where I had the biggest chance of making some really great contacts.

Fortunately the body is resilient, and the Yoga body is extremely resilient, and our workshop at Divya Studio went without a hitch.

Sandra and Petra, owners of Divya, are incredible, wonderful teachers, very grounded and focused yogis and professional hostesses. They made our workshop so easy in their beautiful space. All the workshop attendee’s were familure with Ashtanga, the style practiced in Croatia, which made my job teaching Vinyasa Style so easy.

They loved the partner/Thai massage yoga and we were invited back anytime. I am wishing that at every place in Croatia, I had booked the Studio for a week of classes because the reception of my teaching has been so wonderful. Next tour.

I now have two and half more weeks in Croatia, and frankly I am ready to come home. The yoga at the Retreat Center in Linden never got off the ground, because they weren’t clear that there was actually no usable studio and it is a work in progress. They were not ready for me. The weather has turned cold winter, making cycle touring very difficult. I am learning that I need to set up my classes with not too much space in-between, and stick to either Yoga or Cycling. Both has been exhausting and somewhat of a hassle. Next bike tour, I do with a group in a country that is really set up for cycling. I have met some incredible people, and made some great contacts, and if they paid me handsomely, I would definitely come back and teach at a retreat on one of the Islands. The next time I travel, it will be for a specific purpose, for a class or to learn the language, or to be set up in one location. I don’t need to wander like a gypsy anymore. I am ready to re unite with my community and create a home with lots of color, laughter, warmth, openness, artistic and creative intellectual thought, hugs, and always something delicious on the stove or in the pantry to eat or drink when people come to visit.

I am very very tired and ready to come home, snuggle in my favourite warm coat, take a walk in the Northwest woods, and hug my friends!!