Tbilisi. The sound of this word is a beacon for me. It’s an audio lighthouse blinking me to a safe haven where I can rest and recover, where I can feel normal for a little while.
The heat brings out the worst in me.
The sweat, the discomfort and the constant unquenchable thirst break my walking stamina, the little I have left at this point. My bad mood is made worse with sudden menopause-related hot flashes that make my head burn even hotter in the baking sun.
Here are a few special moments from our walk in Iran.
Thank you, dear people, for making your country so beautiful to us.
Aquí hi ha alguns moments especials del nostre viatge a Iran.
Gràcies, estimats, per fer que el vostre país sigui tan bonic per a nosaltres.
I quit this walk a hundred times a day. Really. Every single day.
I have conversations in my head all the time about how much I hate what we are doing, how I want my Barcelona life back, how I was happier then.
More often than I should, I count off all the reasons I want to stop, and all the things that make me tired.
Hello Dear Followers,
We think of you all the time and want to thank you for your good wishes and ongoing support.
It’s hard doing what we do every day, but your kind words in the form of blog and social media comments, emails, Whatsapp, Messenger and Telegram messages, voicemails and donations give us so much energy. It may take us a while to respond to each of you individually, but please know that we read everything you write and feel your love. Your hellos and notes make us smile and help us believe we have what it takes to keep going.
Cheers to all of you! We love you, and we always carry you in our hearts. We are so grateful you are in our lives and part of this walking journey!
Your two happy walkers
Fatima brings out her atlas. She wants to see our walking route.
Her initial shyness has melted. Her light blue eyes dance with wonder and travel lust.
Ali waves to us from the top of the hill. We wave back, reluctantly.
It’s the end of our walking day, and we are scanning the desert landscape for a suitable campsite. We have our eye on an abandoned house on the flattened section of the hill not far from where Ali is standing. Continue reading One Moment: Those People
Here are three fleeting moments within the same 30 minutes. They are representative of the many fleeting moments that mark much of our time in South Asia.
I stand in a shower of full moon beams, listening to the prayers vibrating from the nearby loudspeaker of the temple. The shadows of the trees in the garden dance on the ground.
We let our feet soak for a couple of seconds in the cool, shallow pool of water. We step onto the sticky plastic mats, doing our best to ignore the clinking sounds of metal plates being tossed into the wash buckets in the busy community kitchen. We cross the elaborate archway, and stand on the hard marble floor. Our eyes are fixed on our prize: the Golden Temple.
For Sikhs, the Amritsar temple is the equivalent of the Christian’s Rome and the Muslim’s Mecca. Devotees from around the world come to bask in its welcoming glow. For me, this special place marks my official finish line for our walk in India.