Looking along a long straight road amidst lush green farmland

Home Travel StoriesWatford 2015 - Meeting Monk

Meeting Monk

By Ren Withnell

I'm meeting Hugo, aka Monk, at 1100 at a place called "Battlers Green Farm" which, according to my maps, is between Watford and Radlett and some 25 miles away from my present location. I'm awake at 0530 which is not unusual for summer, what is unusual is that I am not rushing. I lie in my sleeping bag for a while, resting. I catch up online and reply to a few emails. I make a cup of tea. I warm some baked beans on the stove for breakfast. I do my ablutions - there's a queue in the toilets which is annoying. I talk to a few campers while making another cup of tea. Before I know what's happened it's 0930 and I really must get this tent packed!

baked beans cooking on my coleman stove inside the tent at home farm
I wonder if it will get windy later?

I'm organised and ship shape by 1015, leaving me 45 minutes to cover 25 miles. I just hope to goodness it's quiet this morning and it's not all 30mph zones. And yet, somehow, someway, I am aware I need to be moving but I'm not in a flap. Is there something in my tea? Have I been unconsciously taking chill-out pills? It makes no sense at all but it is preferable to stressing out.

As I ride down the A41 I am a little concerned as to what the day may bring. What if Monk turns out to be duller than dishwater? What if he is a slimy creepy kind of guy? He's asked if I'd like to stop at his place this evening, he might be a psychotic axe wielding murderer! Is he married, is he clever, is he rich, is he well travelled, is he loud, is he ebullient, is he gay, is he a catholic, is he completely normal? I know nothing of this man I am to meet other than he rides a new CBF 125 and lives in Watford. Experience tells me there's a 99.9% chance he'll not be what I expect but he'll be fine. There's still that 0.1% chance he'll be hateful and bailing out can be awkward. I'm calm, concerned but calm.

My map app tells me I've taken a wrong turn on this damp morning. It takes 2 minutes to correct my error and I find Battlers Green Farm with 10 minutes to spare. As I ride around the car park sussing out the place I spot a dayglo biker type and recognise the face from the pictures on my website. I park up next to his shiny CBF and we greet each other. Oh heck...what is this going to be like?

Monk on his honda cbf 125 and dayglo bike gear
I'm glad to see Monk can be seen. Instantly recognisable.

Over a hot cup of tea outside a suave and trendy little tea room at Battlers Green we sit and we start to talk. Monk is a 64 year old gentleman whom it seems has something of a chequered history. While his demeanour is calm and collected his history is complex, chaotic and troublesome. To hear his tales makes me fully appreciate how fortunate I am to have been brought up in a healthy manner and how thankful I am to have avoided the worst of life's temptations and evils. And yet he sits here before me coming across as a gentle man.

Why? Because in his darkest days he found the Hare Krishna movement. Before your mind turns to thoughts of religious cults and weird folks chanting, open your mind to the notion of sanctuary. Monk tells me of very early mornings, of long hours spent in calm meditation, of chanting, of simple work and chores and a culture of calmness, spirituality and simplicity. For a man who's life was in chaos this structured, orderly and understanding way of life proved to be a blessing. 

Monk then tells me that, if I so wish, we could dine at the nearby temple this afternoon. Oh, oh heck! Gosh, what if they brainwash me and I end up wearing an orange robe? What if they tell me motorcycles are the devil's transport? Don't be stupid Ren, and don't be so ridiculously prejudiced. While I have my apprehensions I have before me an opportunity to actually experience for myself a different culture and an alternative way of life to that of our western world. I can do this not 10,000 miles from my home but here, now, on the outskirts of London. I have my doubts but is this not exactly what adventure is about?

Monk leads me to the temple, a mere handful of miles away. As we ride I notice something unexpected, countryside. I thought anything within the M25 ring road would be completely built up, I expected it all to be "city". And yet here are trees, fields, farms, cattle, crops and even woods. And the temple? No minarets or yurts, just a large and rather impressive country house with many outbuildings, you could almost call it a stately home. Apparently the place was purchased by George Harrison of "The Beatles" fame and donated to the Hare Krishna movement. 

Old half timbered buildings at the Hare krishna temple
It's not exactly scary is it. In fact it's rather pretty.

At first glance the place feels business like. There is a proper car park for visitors, signs to guide you and even a website(Bhaktivedanta Manor). I start to relax, there are quite a few other people here, far too many to kidnap and brainwash. I'm also aware that despite the necessities of managing visitors there is a sense of calm. Initially Monk leads me to the cow sheds and I learn Hare Krishna has much in common with the Hindu religion and cows are sacred here. While dairy produce is on the menu the cows are not killed for their meat and live out their lives in what seems to be a bovine utopia.

a large, smart and modern cow shed for the spoiled cows at the temple
The cow sheds. A lot smarter than the pig sty I live in.

The temple is not a temple as you might envisage it. Inside I am required to remove my bike boots but otherwise the rooms are much as you would expect in a home like this, save for a lack of "home comfort" furniture. Monk tells me there are icons and such but I don't notice them, they are not "in your face". We join a long queue of people and slowly filter through a stairway and corridor into a room with large simple pans and paper plates. My plate is filled with rice, some kind of potato and vegetable broth and a peculiar mash of unknown origin. Outside as the first rays of sun start to poke through the last of the rain clouds we sit on a bench. 

As we talk of the peace and tranquillity we eat. The rice is delicious, the potato broth is strange in that it has an Indian flavour to it that confuses my pallet, the strange mash is sweet and rather nice. Monk warned me it may come as a shock to my westernised tastes and it does rather, this is an unusual but worthwhile meal, I put most of it into my belly quite happily.

We walk around the gardens. It is truly a peaceful place and I wonder how this can be, considering the M1 is perhaps a mile away and we are within the M25. Monk occasionally stops to catch up with a devotee he knows and talks to them in quite a different manner than he's been talking to me. They seem to use peculiar words from time to time and bless each other as they meet and part. It is strange and it is not my culture but I see respect and warmth between them.

Looking back at the Manor house from the broad well kept garden
It is a truly fascinating place filled with calmness.

From the temple we make our way to Monk's flat in Watford, overlooking Watford's tube station. "Tube" station implies underground, here the trains are overground. It's a strange place this "daan saaf" I tell ya. After another brew and a chat I encourage Monk to join me on a ride around the area. He seems to struggle with the idea of "just riding" for no other reason than to "just ride". We aim for Rickmansworth but that doesn't pan out as planned so I just ride as Monk follows. By accident and design I complete a loop that takes in more countryside, a lot of town and a few retail parks. If I'm honest it all looks much the same as it does "ooop norf".

We dine at a Harvester and return to Monk's flat. Monk was due to go to India as part of his spiritual journey with the Hare Krishna. A week before he was due to leave his life took another turn. At the temple he met Liba, a lady some 30 years his junior and something just clicked between them. There's no shame or problems leaving the temple and discontinuing your role as a devotee it seems. Monk started a new life with his now wife but remains still in contact and in spirit with the temple. I am pleased to hear that egos don't get in the way of a Hare Krishna follower's choice of life. 

two motorcycles parked on the street near some flats
There's always somewhere to park on a 125.

Back at Monk's place the rest of the evening is spent talking motorcycles, music, philosophy and general chit chat on any and every subject. Tea is drunk and guitars are twiddled, thoughts expressed and opinions listened to. I stop myself for a moment to be thankful that while this is still a surreal experience meeting random folks, that I am comfortable and relaxed. It's late before his wife returns from her challenging role as a senior nurse in a premature baby unit. It is time for bed, much to my embarrassment Monk insists I sleep in their bed and they'll use the bed-settee. 

After checking up on my social media and settling in, I reflect on what has been a most curious day. I never expected "Monk" to ever have been a real Monk, or as he referred to them, "devotee". I never ever would have considered visiting a Hare Krishna Temple let alone finding the experience to be informative and quite calming. While I don't feel the need to devote myself to any way of life I can certainly see, understand and appreciate why people do and I have come away with a greater understanding and respect for them. Monk's life is far from perfect or utopian, but it is plainly obvious he is in a far better place today due to the positive influence of the Temple and it's people.

Time to sleep. My only worry is the bike is parked far below Monk's flat, out on the street. I recall the peace at the temple, relax Ren, it will be what it will be, there's no point in worrying about it. 

It Never Rains Down South Ren heads south on a mission to meet BAT reader and contributor "Monk". Contrary to popular myth it definitely DOES rain "daan saaf".
Meeting Monk Ren meets Monk. But...what if Monk is a psychotic axe murderer?
A Taste Of England Ren returns home after stopping at Monk's place. The sun is shining and there's time to think on the way through Middle England.

Reader's Comments

Monk said :-
What a lovely write up Ren. There's nothing I would add or subtract to your deeply honest perspective. You were excellent company and if you're ever darn sarf again you know the door is always open both to my humble abode and perhaps more importanly too perception.




01/01/2000 00:00:00 UTC
said :-
Just before I go...

https://youtu.be/qnJQMaoOdTU
01/01/2000 00:00:00 UTC
Henrik said :-
Yes, interesting and good write up, and btw, now we are at it, a big up for BAT in general, its unique, and much appreciated here,(for various reasons).
Monk: your contributions to the site is appreciated as well, even when I feel more in tune with orange bike's than orange robes, hehe,..
01/01/2000 00:00:00 UTC
Monk said :-
Henrik... nice to read your thoughts. Orange bikes...why not! If Ren ever gets it together to visit you I can guarantee you won't be disappointed, he is a most agreeable fellow, full of insight and honesty. His visit to me was, in some sense, what I expected yet far more than I had hoped for. He taught me much about bikes and my riding has genuinely improved because of him. I to am grateful for BAT it's a great resource, full of excellent information.All the best and happy biking! :-)

Lest I forget...


01/01/2000 00:00:00 UTC
Ren - The Ed said :-
Enough already...its embarrassing!

Hare Krishna Motorcycle Club...now there's a thing :)
01/01/2000 00:00:00 UTC
Henrik said :-
:-)


01/01/2000 00:00:00 UTC
Ren - The Ed said :-
Fab pic Henrik.
01/01/2000 00:00:00 UTC
Monk said :-
Nice one Henrik..see Ren, your trip has really started something! A positive move I've no doubt.

Motorcycles...bless 'em!


01/01/2000 00:00:00 UTC

Post Your Comment Posts/Links Rules

Name

Comment

Add a RELEVANT link (not required)

Upload an image (not required) -

No uploaded image
Real Person Number
Please enter the above number below




Home Travel StoriesWatford 2015 - Meeting Monk

Admin -- -- Service Records Ren's Nerding Blog
KeyperWriter
IO