I couldn’t find a direct flight from Hervey Bay in Queensland to the Gold Coast of New South Wales, so I had to fly down to Sydney and double back up, arriving at Coolangatta airport after dark.
Driving an older white Mercedes, Madhura Priya pulled up to the curb looking as I remembered her: a vivacious dark-haired Italian, full of life. Even though we hadn’t seen each other in 20 years, we felt comfortably familiar, as you do with someone who’s shared part of your youth. She gave me a brief tour around Coolangatta in the dark before heading inland to the small town of Uki.
Madhura Priya’s partner Deva welcomed me warmly into their home. I was so grateful for their hospitality after traveling solo this past year. An Aussie raised within the Hare Krishna community, Deva is a fantastic chef of traditional Indian food. He and Madhura Priya met while traveling in California. They married and she moved to be with him.
We chatted over tea, then I got a tour of their home and the back veranda which faces Mt. Warning (Wollumbin), remnants of an ancient volcano. The land was alive with the song of crickets and cicada. Cozy in bed I fell fast asleep.
We spent Sunday morning at the temple of their guru making garlands of fragrant gardenia and frangipani for the alter. Deva and Madhura Priya are active members of Shri Govinda Dam, a Hare Krishna temple located close to their home. With three Krishna temples in the ‘North Rivers’ region of New South Wales, Krishna has a strong presence here.
In the afternoon Madhura Priya and I drove to Byron Bay to walk around the craft market followed by dosas for lunch at a local Indian restaurant.
We cooled off in the ocean for a bit before heading back to Uki in the late afternoon.
Krishna Village
I was scheduled to start a volunteer work-trade program the next morning at nearby ‘Krishna Village,’ a Hare Krishna temple, retreat center, farm, primary school, yoga teacher training, “eco-community” and tent village of about 50 rotating volunteer workers from around the globe.
Monday morning Madhura Priya rummaged through her home to find bedding and a tarp for me, then we drove to Krishna Village. By the afternoon I was climbing a tree in the pouring rain trying to secure the tarp over my tent, which was particularly difficult in a downpour as I kept sliding back down the tree. Eventually, I got things situated but not before I was completely soaked.
Few volunteers at Krishna Village identify as Hare Krishna devotees. Most come to learn about farming, healing, yoga, and a spiritually conscious way of life.
For me, the draw was nature and a supportive community where I could deepen my yoga and meditation practice. An Aussie friend I met in India recommended the village, assuring me that my lack of connection to Hare Krishna teachings wouldn’t be an issue—and they were right. While I have no aversion to Bhakti Yoga, my path has always leaned in a different direction.
Hare Krishnas practice ‘Bhakti Yoga,’ the yoga of devotion. For initiates, this means a disciplined life of work, study, and spiritual practice. The goal is to merge Atman (the individual soul) with Paramatman (the Absolute or Primordial Soul) through devotion to a guru, deity, or personal God.
Of the four main yogic paths—Bhakti (devotion), Karma (selfless action), Jñana (wisdom), and Raja (meditative discipline)—I resonate most with Jñana Yoga, the path of self-inquiry and knowledge. Rooted in Advaita Vedanta (Non-Duality), it focuses on transcending the mind’s identification with thought. I’ve always been drawn to this direct approach rather than devotional practices filled with rituals and ceremonies.
That said, all yogic paths share a common goal: breaking free from limiting thought patterns and behaviors. Each mind carries its own conditioning, or samskara’s—deeply ingrained tendencies shaped by culture, upbringing, and experience (including past lives). These patterns influence perception and behavior, strengthening through repetition.
We each have a unique mental and karmic makeup, which is what makes these different paths valuable. Like spokes of a wheel converging at the center, there are many ways to reach the same truth.
So while Bhakti Yoga isn’t my personal path, the environment at Krishna Village is undeniably uplifting. I thrive in clean, mindful spaces surrounded by self-reflective people, and here, that’s exactly what I found.
The schedule at Krishna Village starts at 5 a.m. with a class of yoga asana. Then work hours begin with a group ‘check-in’ at 6:15 a.m., before dispersing to our various jobs (kitchen, garden, cleaning crew, animal care, temple, handyman, etc…). We work for two hours, then breakfast at 8:30. We work another three hours after breakfast, ending at 12:15. Kirtan (devotional chanting) begins at 12:30, followed by rotating classes in various related subjects. Lunch is at 2 pm, then free time for the rest of the day with dinner at 6:15 PM.
The land was gorgeous. I loved the animals, working the gardens, helping in the kitchen, and I did meet some special people. One in particular developed into a true friendship.
Originally from the UK, Kyla lived in Japan for years and now has Australian citizenship. After completing our volunteer work, we spent many afternoons together exploring the coast and surrounding areas.
One evening we drove north to Queensland for a housing auction and just-like-that, Kyla bought a house in Uki. The following week we visited the property a number of times, walking the land and discussing her plans for a permaculture garden and yoga retreat center.
After a couple of weeks at Krishna Villiage, I’d had enough. Kyla was leaving to attend a yoga teacher training in New Zealand and I didn’t want to be there without her. The majority of our fellow volunteers were quite young.
The weather had been an unexpected challenge. I wasn’t prepared for the torrential rainfall this part of the world absorbs on a regular basis. Working in the rain, then resting in a droopy, muddy tent wasn’t what I had in mind, and the thought of doing it without Kyla there was unappealing.
So I packed up my gear, and Kyla drove me to another Help Exchange gig further north in the rural hills of Nobbys Creek. We hugged ‘goodbye’ and she drove away.