On my final train ride from London to Harrogate I have time to think back over six weeks. Six weeks. A short time really. Just over six weeks ago I left. Forty five days; that's 1080 hours, or 64,000 minutes, or a mere three million eight hundred and eighty eight thousand seconds (give or take a few seconds here and there). Some seconds I lived twice heading westward, others disappeared completely across a multitude of time zones heading east.
3,888,000 seconds. It's not long really.
So many moments stand out on the journey.
High above the village of Taprang, in the foothills of the Annapurna mountains, I watch people from the village dance in moonlight and torchlight outside our tents. They dance to the beat of a drum and to the sounds of their singing voices. I watch their silhouettes, and below our hill top campsite the darkness of the terraced hillside villages is punctuated with occasional lights that are the only signs of life here. I watch my friends dance, and I watch mountain man Ram dance, and I don't join in. I watch this enchanting scene, too magical to spoil by taking part. To join in would be like learning the secret behind a magic trick, and to know that would blemish the sheer mysticality (if that is a word) of it. This evening is quite possibly, and very bizarrely, the most enjoyable dance I have been to.
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Dear Anna, I am very glad that you are already home and safe. But I will miss your blogs with your journey:) It was so amazing to read each of your steps! Thank you.
ReplyDeleteMaria from Belarus
P/S you are really STRONG
Hello Maria, Thank you. I'll email you. I look forward to being in touch. Anna from UK
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