Yoga trip to Puglia
If there were not so many ants, I would probably hug the gnarled olive tree with enthusiasm about myself. So I am more introverted, but no less happy about the fact that I have just managed the bow posture for the first time: Over the last few days I had struggled with her, in vain, my body resembled no bow, but at most a deformed suspension bridge ,
But then something happened to me today and Urdhva Dhanurasana, as this yoga posture is called. "Push your arms through, with momentum," yoga instructor Lina fired at me. "Up your butt!" With all my strength I braced my hips, ignoring the burning of my upper arms, not letting go - and suddenly my body bent perfectly: I stand on my soles and hands, and while I stretch my upper body dynamically sky, everything is suddenly so easy. The sun tickles my stomach. And I feel like I was eleven when I jumped off the dashboard for the first time.
The luck with the yoga trip
When the day starts: run over poppy meadows
Happiness through sport - I've rarely experienced anything like that in the past few years. Although I started yoga a bit during my pregnancy, I stopped it again. Later I started again, but rather listless. and other sports, where you have to move even more, were already out of the question. Until my body sent first SOS signals last summer: whistling in my ear. Thoughts in the head, the carousel at night drove. I needed something that would rebalance body and mind as gently as possible.
Just then a friend of "Santa Maria del Sole" raved in Puglia: a yoga resort that offers a variety of directions, from dynamic power yoga to yoga with tai-chi. The teachers come from Germany, Italy, England, Canada and America. They bring their own students, but usually still have places available. And best of all: Each course has the whole area for the whole yoga week on its own. I would have guaranteed peace there to recover. How well I would make friends with yoga, that was another question. "Five hours a day, a whole week," my daughter said goodbye to me. "You can never do that!"
Beautiful practice bowing - with help
"Santa Maria del Sole" is a nearly 400-year-old farm that was restored four years ago and converted into a yoga resort. The Masseria, as they call it, is located in the heel of the Italian boot, about 80 kilometers southeast of Bari. The wild sandy beaches of the Ionian coast are just 25 kilometers away; The rocky coves on the opposite side of the Adriatic are about 40 minutes by car. In this region there are many trulli - small round stone houses, with their pointed roofs with pompons on top look like oversized pointed caps. My temporary home. Around me: almond, lemon and olive trees.
On the first morning a cock crows in the distance, I hear the calls of a wild donkey. I have booked with two Swiss: Lina Baggenstos and Michael Thurnherr from Zurich teach us, they combine yoga with elements of Ayurveda. And every day begins at half past seven with a meditation walk. Silently I trudge along with the others in the morning mist through winding herb paths and flowering poppy meadows. Then we meditate for half an hour: All sit in a circle on the floor drape blankets, pillows and pads under the knee, between calves, thighs and around the ankles. For me that does not look like yoga, but rather a rehab group. So I try to stay ceilingless in lotus position. After a short time I limp with deaf legs to the pillow cage. But even upholstered I do not succeed in sinking myself into myself. Instead, I count the minutes until there is breakfast at nine o'clock.
Meditating will not be my favorite activity. Also in yoga, two sessions of one and a half hours per day, I seem to be the least skilled in our group: next to me Valerie, a hotel manager from Arosa in Switzerland, casually leans into the dog looking down. On the other hand, I cant with the individual figures of the sun salutation shaky to the side and lie after the third repetition like a cockchafer moaning on his back. Looking for confirmation, I turn to Elsbeth, who, at 55 years of age, is the eldest here. She does not even sweat! Was my daughter right that I could not stay here? And where is the hoped-for relaxation, the recovery that I so desperately need?
When the day ends: nibble focaccia with rosemary.
The only therapy that I master effortlessly right from the beginning is eating. Eating well, Lina assures, as we sit together on the long table outside on the terrace. The refined salads and imaginative vegetable creations are delicious: fresh buffalo mozzarella and goat's cheese wrapped in fig leaves. Bean puree with chicory herb, salad of raw cabbage, juicy pears and roasted almonds, rocket and borage flowers from the garden, with freshly baked focaccia with rosemary.
Plus: huge bowls of homemade pasta! But already on the second day, I suspect that I may have done wrong in my impatience to yoga. Because no matter how idiotic you look - a little the exercises seem to work already: We practice the water chakra, which is supposed to stimulate the kidneys and bladder. Although I am skeptical that there is no scientific evidence that these chakras exist at all, those parts of the body where particular energy is supposed to circulate, I have to go to the toilet five times a night.
My thighs burn hellishly
My body and me: dandelion juice for the liver.
Our teachers complement each other wonderfully. Lina, the gentle and empathetic, stands behind me immediately, if I do not know how to lift my arm, bend my leg or turn my shoulders, and gently push me, with tiny corrections, into the right position. And when Michael, the rousing and persistent, tells of the "Ocean Breath", one means to hear the waves of the ocean rushing. Or he lets us rock music to Sting with his legs slightly bent in the "Sumo Ringer Pose", saying, "Imagine riding on a little elephant." While my thighs are burning like hell, he explains the small difference between "sweet pain", where you can still hold something, and real, unpleasant pain that you should avoid. Already I manage to ride on my imaginary elephant one more lap.
In between, a detour into Italian life: Claudia Merkle in "Café Tripoli" in Martina Franca.
Break from yoga. I drive first to Martina Franca, into the bustling old town with the kitschy-opulent Baroque facades. In "Caffè Tripoli" I drink Granita al caffè, a half-frozen espresso with a gigantic whipped cream to wake you up for breakfast in the morning. Afterwards, I stroll through the winding streets of Locorotondo, the city of white wine, and later turn leisurely along the coastal road towards Gallipoli. The sea glitters in the sun, and almost everywhere wooden boards lead down to the wild sandy beaches. The street signage is poor, my sense of direction, however, too - so I finally in Sava, almost back in the country, a group of elderly gentleman to ask for directions. They are waiting in the piazza in front of the village church for a wedding, which should take place in three hours. Just sitting there on their folding chairs, wonderfully relaxed. Without yoga. That turns off. I sit down with them, we chat a bit about life, and I feel like in a movie where the slow-motion switch was pressed.
My yoga journey pays off
The "standing heroine" for a powerful back.
After four days, my body shows very clear reactions to the regular dose of yoga. My back feels as mobile again as if someone had chiseled away a load of cement between the vertebrae. And day by day, as I become more flexible, my muscles become softer and more flexible. In the meantime, I have completely converted to pranayama - breathing exercises that I underestimated in the beginning: unbelievable in how many ways a yogi can inhale and exhale. And how immediately the body reacts to it! Bringing you fast, powerful and only through the nose air, that is stimulating.
When the day ends: nibble focaccia with rosemary.
In contrast, simple abdominal breathing in turbulent phases is as effective as the pressure relief valve of a pressure cooker. It sometimes does not bother me at all that you sometimes sound like a dog that is panting. And every night I fall exhausted and tired into bed; and my thoughts, which at first galloped wildly behind the eyelids, turn into a peaceful flock of sheep.
On Sunday morning I sit next to my packed suitcase one last time under the almond and olive trees in the grass to say goodbye. All around flowering meadows, crisp poppy fields and this incredible width. So much green. Nothing that blocks your eyes. I am full of energy. As if I had taken a deep breath down here in Puglia and simply blew the hooks of my tight-laced everyday corset. I'm not going to tie a new one up so fast.
Information about the yoga trip and Apulia
Yoga Retreat Santa Maria del Sole At the former estate, yoga teachers from various countries hold one- to four-week courses - from dynamic power yoga to yoga with tai chi. Information on the course program is provided by the resort (Via Monti del Duca 302, I-74015 Martina Franca, www.santamariadelsole.it, inquiries to info@santamariadelsole.it will be answered quickly).
The respective seminars are then booked directly with the yoga teachers. The next holiday course by Lina Baggenstos and Michael Thurnherr will take place from 13th May to 19th May 2012. One week course, transfer from Bari airport to Santa Maria del Sole and back, as well as DZ / VP from approx. 1100 Euro (Yogaloft, Holzwiesstrasse 37, CH-8645 Jona, Tel. 00 41/76/344 50 44, www .yogaloft.ch). Good preparation: Anna Trökes / Detlef Grunert, "The Yoga Health Book, specifically to heal ailments with Yoga and Ayurveda" (240 p., 23 euros, Graße und Unzer).
Getting there
For example, with Lufthansa (www.lufthansa.com), return flight from Hamburg to Bari from about 300 euros or from Munich from about 350 euros. Then from the airport continue by rental car, a week from about 200 euros (for example, AVIS, Hertz).
phone
Area code for Italy 0039, then continue with the area code, always dial the zero, even within Italy always dial the full area code with the zero and the phone number.
Enjoy
Trattoria Piazzetta Garibaldi, Typical dishes of the region as with Mama, as well as delicious antipasti. A specialty is the home-made "Orecchiette con ricotta forte", small, round noodles with wonderfully aromatic cheeses from the region (Piazza Garibaldi, 17/18, Martina Franca, Tel. 00 39/08 04 30 49 00).
Caffè Tripoli. The oldest café in the small Baroque city, right in the middle of Centro. (Via Garibaldi, 10, Martina Franca, Tel. 00 39/08 04 80 52 60).
Gelateria Bar Adua. According to old family recipes, the third generation of delicious ice cream and dolci are prepared. Be sure to try the divine pistachio honey ice cream! (Via Paisiello, 62, Martina Franca, Tel. 00 39/08 04 80 70 34).
Read
Andreas Haller: Apulia, Michael Müller Verlag, 19,90 Euro.
Ekkehart Rotter: Art Travel Guide Apulia, DuMont Verlag, 25,90 Euro.
info
Martina Franca, Piazza Zo Settembre 3, every day except Sunday from 9am to 1pm and 4pm to 7pm Tel. 080/4805702, www.martinafrancatour.it
Locorotondo, Pro Loco, behind the Porta Napoli, Piazza Vittorio Emanuele 27, Mo? Fri 10? 1 pm and 17? 8 pm, Tel. 080/4313099, www.prolocolocorotondo.it
The official website of the Apulia region
