New Zealand. We had already planned a trip to that mythical (at least for us) land twice before, but postponed it because of friends’ weddings in South Africa and India respectively. But 2015 was to be THE year. And then life happened again, or more precisely, two lines on a pregnancy test happened. Not knowing how things would pan out, we decided to postpone NZ once again to a not so foreseeable future and look for a closer ‘baby moon’ location before our new arrival.
After spending a few weeks in a foreign country one is sometimes tempted to believe that one has got to know it. The sense of familiarity creeps in slowly until you get the comforting feeling of knowing what to expect.
I spent four weeks in India this summer, working in Delhi, visiting the neighbouring states and doing yoga in the Himalayas. I’ve seen city life and rural life, I’ve travelled by public transport, by rickshaw, taxi and private car, by road and by rail. I’ve lived and worked with Indians, I’ve eaten in five-star establishments and basic street food outlets. The feeling of ‘been there, done that’ started to kick in.
Two months after my first trip I landed in Cochin, Kerala, and I saw a completely different India to what I had experienced before.