On my way to the station, I cross the square with the little café. We have had some good times here! The terrace is full of people, laughing and dining. As I glance over, I feel very much a part of it. For years I had been waiting for such people to join me on the road, now I know they never will. And that’s fine. I now know that most of them will always stay here. Not me. What has changed? Me!

The Midnight Coach for London departs. The bright red traffic lights, the road closure ahead – they are all irrelevant. I greet my trusted friends: neck pillow, earplugs & eye mask. I feel so happy inside. It has been a while since we have travelled, I think to myself. After settling into my seat, I lose myself in memories.

Two and a half months in the Netherlands have flown past. Months of working intensively, of joining forces with actors, director, musician, lighting designer and theatre to create my play. A time of drive, of inspiration, fun, learning and growing; of connecting with the other Moon Scouts, a nearby spiritual centre, several women groups; of long cycling tours; of philosophical discussions.

I am woken by the passenger beside me. My eyes squint in the bright lights. The red digi-letters show 3:28. Customs – twice. Back in my seat, I float off again.

Here I am on the bus to London. My project has finished; with raving reviews. The time to move on is approaching. A wonderful circle of friends has grown in a short period of time. I feel at home within the local community. At the same time, I am looking to the next adventure.

People know I’m only passing through. That doesn’t mean they keep their distance though, because I don’t.

One of the secrets of being an Earth Pilgrim is to deeply connect with those around you. Connect on a personal level. Connect like you will always be there. Because you are. It doesn’t matter whether it is only for an hour, a day or three months. It is all about how well you connect with people in the moment!

I think most people nowadays misunderstand this. With tools like texting, email, skype, VoIP and facebook, nobody really leaves anymore. You can keep in touch. True, but often these become tools to hide behind. Great, you can talk to people anywhere. But how about connecting to those around you, in the moment? That is still up to you!

This evening, in London, the colouring in the sky was phenomenal. On the train, no one was paying attention, they were all too busy “connecting” on their phones. Occasional glances were just thrown to check if I was watching them. Is that real?

Connecting is more than just texting, or spending hours together. Do you remember that lovely guy or couple you met on holiday? The same kind of people live next door to you, two houses down in the next block.

It is you who opens up when you are on the road. You can do the same at home. When you run into your neighbour next time, make an effort to go beyond: how are you – have a nice day. You’ll be surprised!

Even better: imagine really connecting with your partner – again, or maybe even for the first time. Now there’s a thought!

Spare five minutes, thirty minutes, even an hour and genuinely listen to what others have to say. All they want is to be heard. Your contribution to make the world a better place.

Everyone is an Earth Pilgrim, whether you are on the road or not.

It’s one of the great new galleries to go and see in London, the new Saatchi Gallery. It has moved from its unhappy home in County Hall, on the South Bank, to a new home at the old Duke of York’s Barracks on the King’s Road. It is an impressive building, one that certainly gives gravitas to the collection. The collection is a private collection, by Charles Saatchi, of the most sought after of present day modern art. It is an eclectic collection of paintings, sculptures and other works that gives you a great overview of where modern art is today. Whether you are a fan of this type of art or not the building is certainly worth a visit.

The impression of the outside of the building is totally at odds with the reputation of the collection as being at the forefront of current modern art. It’s an old, classical building which says solidity and reputation. The shame is that what’s inside doesn’t live up to expectations created. I’m not referring to the collection, I will talk about that presently, but to the handling of the architecture itself.

Once you step through the doors it’s as if the impressive building is left behind. We are told that,

“The brief from the Saatchi Gallery to AHMM (the architects) was that the display of the collection should be paramount and that the architectural details of the interiors should be suppressed in favour of an absolutely minimal set of elegant white spaces with an understandable geometry and visual connectivity. Everything had to be subservient to the art itself.”

That is a common approach today to the question of how to display art. It results in vast white spaces with isolated paintings or sculptures. It suggest a reverence for the work which is sometimes misplaced. This should be contrasted with a older, more classical view that works should be crowded together and displayed against an interesting, rich coloured background, much as they might in a private home.

The building certainly succeeds in the ail expressed above but at the expense of any interest or any attempt by the architect to create impressive spaces. I was very disappointed and found the spaces lacking in any emotion.

To some extent I am alone in my assessment. Stephen Bayley of the Guardian said,

“They are boldly white, sparely finished and top-lit, designed to create a recessive background for London’s reclusive modern Medici. If they are recessive it is not because of a limited budget: none has been declared, but we may be certain Charles Saatchi does not stint himself. Anyway, this sort of recession is surely the right thing because so many art gallery designs – the Guggenheims in New York and Bilbao and the National Gallery extensions in London and Washington – fail because the showy architecture overwhelms the subtleties of painting.”

The architecture here certainly doesn’t overwhelm the subtleties, there isn’t any, but the spaces and the lighting do. The enormity of the large white spaces is over-emphasised by the overall, bland, bright lighting. The brightness of the Barrisol, stretched fabric, ceilings attracts the eye and burns it out. Why on earth, just because practicality demands even lighting does it have to dominate.

We are told,

“AHMM also suggested to the gallery that they should approach ERCO, the German lighting manufacturers, for a complete design and supply service. Working with ERCO and Barrisol, the gallery’s lighting design team, AHMM and ARUP (engineers) removed all the original office lighting and designed an indirect/direct lighting scheme based on shallow stretched fabric light boxes and an integrated light track. This provides both wall washing and feature lighting for the central gallery spaces. The light boxes punch through the ceiling plane and give the illusion of toplit light wells. It was essential for the gallery that turnaround time for shows was kept to the minimum and so much of the wall wash lighting is totally even, allowing hanging to be carried out without any major changes to the lighting layouts. Feature lighting can of course be amended by use of the flush ceiling mounted track.”

Well they don’t give the impression of light wells and they light the floor far brighter than the walls. Surely the focus should be on the artwork on the walls not the beautiful white limed timber flooring. It’s so bright I even noticed what the floor is made of (perhaps that is a work itself!). Can’t the architects learn the lessons from the Tate Modern that lighting it like an office is not a good idea.

It becomes ridiculous in the room housing ‘Richard Wilson 20:50‘ (Site Specific Oil Installation: 1987, used sump oil and steel) where the major view is of the lighting, that’s what you see in the oil! The work is an intervention in architectural space which draws heavily for its inspiration from the world of engineering and construction. It is characterised by it’s size and structural daring. Yes, the lighting is an essential part of the space and therefore should be seen, but it creates a deeply uninteresting work.

Apart from the illusions of the Richard Wilson work, the work that made the greatest impression on me was in the Project Room. It houses ‘American Servicemen and Women Who Have Died in Iraq and Afghanistan (But Not Including the Wounded, nor the Iraqis nor the Afghans)’ by Emily Prince. It is a tribute to every American soldier killed in Iraq and Afghanistan since 2004. It currently comprises 5,158 drawings bringing attention to the human cost of war, turning statistics back into portraits of real lives sacrificed on the field.

For me it wasn’t a work of art rather an extremely impressive work of politics and documentary that stops you and makes you see what is happening. It is very powerful indeed.

Interestingly in the room where this is housed, The Project Room, the lighting very successfully places your focus on the walls and the work itself. The ceiling and floors recess into relative darkness and your eyes are riveted on the work. Hmmm… perhaps that might work elsewhere…

I had a fabulous day in Winchester in Hampshire, just south west of London. It’s one of those perfect English days with a clear blue sky and crisp chilly air. Just right for putting on your warm coat and walking boots and striding off across the Downs. The countryside is beautiful rolling hills. They are farmed and they have rough heathland and woods on them. So we wnt out for a 2 hour walk through this fabulous countryside. We strode along muddy paths, slipped in brackish puddles and had a wonderful experience. There were views across to The Isle of Wight and all around from the high position we were in.

Towards the end we stopped to look inside a lovely old 12th Century Church. It serves a small community, there are only 50 people on the electoral roll in the parish, but it is still beautifully kept. It is lit, still, by gas lighting and retains the feel of an old, loved building.

Back home for much needed glass of red wine and a gossip in front of the log fire. Can life get any more perfect.

My partner had to attend some meetings in London, and as we are temporarily based in France, I used Google to find the best way to travel over there. Thanks to the man in seat 61, I came across the TGV website. My partner and I both love to travel by train, and with airports being quite a drive away from our current location, we decide to go for that option. And what a great choice!

We leave just after 5am to drive to the station in Poitier. The early morning road is empty, so is the centre of the city. We joke about its ghostlike appearance. It takes us a while to realize that today’s date is the 14th of July, which is a jour-de-fete in France. That explains it! Walking to the station I am in a state of bliss. We have been in the same place in France for almost 4 weeks now, and after having almost continuously been on the road for 3 years, I realize I miss the excitement of going to a new place. The sound of our trolleys, a croissant in an early morning café before boarding the train, the sunshine, the freedom, brings out the traveller in me…. I love it!

The trip up to Paris is very comfortable. It being the 14th of July the train as well as Le Metro is pretty well abandoned. We cross Paris by underground in under 20 minutes and are well in time to have a sandwich before we board the EuroStar train to London. After check-in we have to go through customs, as we will be travelling to another country. The regulations are much less strict than those at an airport. No fuss about us having filled water bottles for instance, or a new bottle of shampoo. And no messing about with weight either. There are people with loaded up trolleys, no extra charge!! A gliding staircase gently floats us down to the train and we find our places. 2 hours later, we have lunch at St Pancras station in central London, and my partner is off to his meeting.

Under 6 hours to get from mid France to the throbbing heart of London. What a gift to be alive in this wondrous day and age!