Last evening in Khajuraho

Another lazy day in the Radisson bubble is over. I slept in, ate, and then read a book by the pool. Some seriously needed downtime.

In the end, I did not rent a bike to go out into the countryside, I did not book that tour to the waterfalls and the canyon nearby.

I was tired. Tired to go out and walk over to a store to organize a bike or tuk-tuk and haggle with them over the price, knowing the first quote was grossly overpriced…

 

Tired to even walk down the street and either have to ignore the five kids, who, one after the other, try to get me into a conversation. But after 25 of these ‘conversations’, I’m just no longer up for it.

So I put on my headphones, played some music and walked down into town, just to make a sharp left before the lake and walk out into the fields, to a temple that was supposed to be quiet and good to watch the sunset.

I found some temple ruins, no temple. I was quiet, and the sunset was beautiful to watch.

I remember sitting there, on the edge of the old stones, and watching the sun set in the West. And I had this strange feeling of ‘home’.

I knew, there, in that direction, following the setting sun, was home. I would take years and years, but I would eventually come home to Europe.

It wasn’t a sad feeling, rather a soothing one, and one of ‘connected-ness’.

Here I was, somewhere on the Indian subcontinent on a temple, long in ruins, and after nearly circling the globe twice in the past year, but I could feel that all this around here, and my home back in Germany, was somehow connected over time and space, over millennia of trade and migrations of people and peoples.

Maybe it was a feeling of one-world-ness, that overcame me, after all that traveling, there, on those warm stones, as the sun set over India.

It’s hard to describe. I was not stoned and sober, if you wonder.

That’s all I did today, followed by a dinner with Mallory in our favorite place, the Raja Café. Tomorrow we’ll be off to travel to Agra, by train.