‘Food circle, NOW’. The cries came from the forest beyond the beach, and were echoed by others along the shore. Torch lights began to emerge from the trees and people gathered around the fire, linking hands in a big circle. I joined, seeing for the first time the faces of the rainbow people illuminated by the flames. A few looked like they’d been shipwrecked on an island some months ago, barefoot and bearded, their skin weathered and brown, hair wild and bleached. The newcomers to this scene stood out like dogs amongst a pack of wolves, well groomed and shiny clean.

Fifty or so people were in that circle, old and young; most around thirty, men and women roughly equal, fat and thin (mostly thin) and white and brown (mostly white). A bunch of characters, that’s for sure.

Someone started the first song, I’m not sure who, the same song that was always sung first:’We are circling, circling together, we are singing, singing our heart song, this is unity, this is family, this is celebration, this is sacred’.

The verse was repeated until it’s natural end, at which point the circle was quiet for a moment before someone sang out ‘I am a gypsy, I am a wanderer, I am a rainbow, my soul will never die’ and we repeated this before another sang ‘I am the sun, I am the moon, I am the rainbow, my soul will never die’ and so this went on.

Two stray dogs began to bark, the energy rising as we chanted ‘alek alek bom, alek alek bom bom, alek shiva shambo, Kailash ke raja, shiva bhole, bom bom bom bolenath, shiva nama om, om nama shivaya’. The intensity climaxed and the dogs locked jaws in the middle of the circle, fighting furiously. People broke from the circle and intervened, putting their hands in amongst gnashing teeth to pull them apart.

The songs went on, until someone started a mantra that signaled it was time to eat. With the food sitting in big pots by the fire, this ritual was one of patience and self- control, everyone’s stomachs rumbling.

A few people volunteered to serve, and our pots were filled with simple but delicious vegan food in rounds until everything was gone. Rice, beans, salads, curry, hummus, porridge – this kind of thing. One evening we cooked hundreds of chapati, music and dancing fueling a marathon session of mixing, rolling and flipping. We ate at whatever time it was finished, who cared what time that was.

The meal finished, a ‘magic hat’ went around, people putting in it what they could, even if that was just a kiss.

So who was organising all this? Who was deciding what we ate, what was allowed, what wasn’t? Rainbow gatherings started in 1970s USA and are now held all around the world. There’s no hierarchy or organiser, just a community who get together and live by traditions of the rainbow like the songs we sang.

This gathering had been going since the full moon, and ended on the new moon, although people were talking about a caravan, staying longer. Some people live like this, travelling from one rainbow to the next, it’s a lifestyle you perhaps never even knew existed.

So what do fifty young hippies on a beach in Albania get up to? I thought plenty of psychedelics would be involved, but I didn’t even see a cigarette get rolled. Hedonism was out – no drugs, alcohol, even sugar and caffeine were naughty. No phones either, hence no photos.

No jobs were given at the gathering, but things just got done, and there were plenty of things to do – cooking two meals everyday, doing ‘water missions’ to the well, ‘food missions’ to Sarandë and ‘wood missions’ to make sure the fire never stopped burning. At first I thought these people were radical, but really they just enjoyed living simply, living outdoors.

This is the way of life humans have had for most of our existence. Were people of the past content with this life of survival? For me I’m not sure it’s enough. Today personal achievement is important in most people’s lives. To run marathons, climb mountains, or whatever that may be. I think this ambition is a recent phenomenon, a hunger that’s been embedded by the culture of individualism in which we’ve been brought up. Perhaps because with the death of religion we feel life lacks meaning, so have to find purpose in ourselves. This desire to achieve is embedded and you can’t just ignore it, suppress it, for it won’t go away.

Seeing a different way of life makes you question the way you live. I guess that’s what travel is all about.

People held workshops to share their skills – yoga, meditation, whatever you wanted, but mostly we just sat around talking, on the beach, around a fire drinking chai, late into the night under the stars, guitars, drums and singing often in the background. I met people from Iran, Serbia, Denmark, Sweden, the USA, all over the world. Interesting conversations, which I guess I’ll share over the coming weeks. Thanks guys, it was great meeting you all.

Some photos of a monastery on the hill above the beach: