Nine things I discovered on a yoga retreat

7. There are not a lot of male yogis.

Back in the early days of yoga in India, it was only practised by men. Western appropriation has seen to that. There were no men in our class. Which is their loss, because there were a lot of hot, single, bendy women. See aforementioned Mila for details.

8. I love being naked outdoors.

Fear not, it wasn’t compulsory or communal. There were hot, indoor showers available but there was a fresh water outdoor shower near our tipi and I loved it. My privacy was intact, it faced a rocky cliff. There was something euphoric about washing with a sunbeam on my face. It does not happen enough in my life back in Wiltshire. Note to self: get naked outdoors. Warn neighbours.

9. We all work too damn hard.

Many of my fellow yogis were retreating from hectic careers. How have we got ourselves into this mess? Our brains are wired and tired. We’re seeking out tranquil antidotes to our exhaustion in the form of paradisical Portuguese hideaways.

I came home nourished, I’d met awesome people and achieved the Crow (YES MATE!) I returned to my house affectionately stroking the walls and telling my garden I loved it. Two days later, a flurry of emails lured me back to a frazzled modus operandi while I clung to my holiday happiness.

In times of stress, I channel the gifts this retreat gave me. We only get one life. More retreat vibes, less computer-fed headaches.