I left for South Africa and Mauritius at the end of March with two large suitcases and one smaller carry-on, all containing a stack of The Saffron Path, my book covering my walking adventures around the world. After bidding farewell to the Mauritius community, I wheeled my carry-on in one of the big suitcases, and the second suitcase full of gold-coloured costumes to bring back home. The books were hotcakes – not enough of them!
I’m a happy camper returning home after a number of accomplishments overseas. The daily walk by Belle Mare at sunrise was great for my health. Delivering classes, kirtans, workshops, a drama, counselling, and more, was just a bit of what I did before covid. That’s how everything is measured nowadays. ‘B.C.’ now means ‘Before Covid;’ ‘A.C.’ means ‘After Covid.’
The long flight to Paris was panic. The lineup for simply getting a boarding pass was tedious. I’ve never seen such grumpy travellers – I was one of them in the tardy lineup. People had to race to their gate, but then you had to go through security again. Being that I have new bionic knees, the buzzer goes off. The security frisking me took his sweet time and told me it was a massage. He then undid my rolled-up dhoti (robe) fabric (by mistake). “What’s this?” he asked about my sacred thread tied around my torso. I explained. “Hurry up!” I said in my mind to him. Panic! Sweat!
A nice couple from Scarborough and Kshitish from Don Mills all kind of shared the pain with me. The flights were great, though. We tend to remember what aggravates. I can’t really complane. I was happy to see Nanda pull up at the Toronto Airport. Thank you, Rajasuya, for the travel setup (this is not sarcastic).
Source: https://www.thewalkingmonk.net/post/get-back-to-where-you-once-belonged
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