Half way house

Half way there, or just over.  The first leg was easy.  Easy in the sense it’s been done many times now.  

I’ve discovered a new book.  (Well, actually an old one, that I just haven’t got round to reading yet).

If you haven’t read it yet, you must.  Whether you love mountains or climbing or adventure or just the mysteries of life, it is very well written, and I am hooked.  Reading it at every turn, in every queue, at every minute.

If the word Grindelwald doesn’t do it for you, I don’t know what will.

I’ve found my gate, devoured a questionable looking chicken biriyani and am now surrounded by malayalee voices and moustaches.  Why are there so many men?  Where are all the women??

The answer, probably back home in Kerala rearing their young.

This is a usual for Keralites, head to the Middle East for some money, then send it all back home.

I have close family members who live this way, miss-calling each other just to say ‘I’m thinking of you’.  It’s really sweet actually, watching them waiting for their missed-call dance.

There is more to say, I know.  But I will keep those cards close to myself.

See you soon, no doubt.


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