MADE IN NIRVANA
The Valley of the Gods
On the journey down from Mcleodganj, Maria recognized the road they had covered just a few days before. At the chai-shop when they stopped for a break she ate the samosas that she remembered were not too spicy. Everything seemed much easier than the first time. It was nearly four o'clock when they arrived in Mandi. The bus station, the street stalls, even the cows that gobbled up whatever was lying on the ground, were the same as the week before. They bought their tickets for the next day, Maria and Franca for Manali, Barbara for Delhi. Then they walked up the hill, trudging up the steep steps that led to the Tourist Bungalow. It was like coming home....
Franca decided that, this time, they were going to travel separately. Why don't you want us to sit together? Maria asked. Because it was always the same, said Franca and we 'never get to know anyone new'. If we sit one here and one there we'd speak with different people and then, on arrival, we'd have things to tell each other....
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