Thursday December 15th dawned warm and clear as it had every day in India.
I left the girls sleeping and did a final walk past the yoga stretchers, jumpers, howlers and sleeping dogs!
I said goodbye to the boats men as they drew their boats out of the water and up the wet sand toward the waiting baskets.
My home was cleared of hanging things as the last of my collection was distributed through the other huts.
My bags were packed and moved into the girls hut.
Today was to be a chill out day. Nothing was planned save a bit of sun, sea and maybe a few snacks!
Today was my last day in Aranbol and I was saddened by the thought of leaving. No other country has made me dread the day of departure. No other country has made me think if it was possible to just to not get on the plane.
India holds a special magic for me and today I just wanted to stay!
When the girls rose we did a final walk up the main village so that I could use the ATM.
Our little girl-guide dog once more joined us as we passed her resting place to walk with us to the main road, just as she had done most mornings.
The girls bought some post-cards.
I took a photo of the village's newest arrivals digging in the damp dirt.
The familiar shops were passed, the last supplies were gathered.
The day passed slowly for which I was grateful but too soon it was time for me to
shower and change ready for my long journey to Mumbai and then to New Zealand.
The girls played cards as I got ready,
Karen came to say good-bye, bringing her new hoola-hoop for us all to try.
Tummy’s turned,
hips gyrated,
tricks were performed as we all took our turns and vowed that we would continue this brilliant exercise when we returned to the UK.
Slowly the time drew near for me to leave. I kissed the girls goodbye and with my bag firmly on my back I walked to the main road and my awaiting motor bike taxi. The ride to the station filled me with a sadness that I didn't want to face. I passed homes and fields that I wanted to stay amongst. If I hadn't been meeting Peter in 24 hours I would have stayed.
The night train was on time. The taxi man at the other end did not agrue when I 'TOLD' him the price to the Airport.
I waited in departures in silence, back in my own world like so many of my fellow travellers.
The plane touched down first in Singapore, then another one took me to Brisbane, one airport now looking very much like the next.
In Auckland Peter and Cian were waiting, each of us as tired as each other, all of us emotionally wired for three different reasons.
We hugged, a tear escaped and we headed out of the airport to hail a taxi to take us to the 'Wicked Van Hire' where our home and transport for the next week awaited!
It was time once again to take another step ......
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