This place was sacred. Bodies burned day and night on the ghats, the steps leading to the Ganges; it was not uncommon to find bits of ash in your hair or on your skin. I balked at the chance to drink tea with the holy men after I learned that the Ganges was the source of the water, even though, as my guide told me, “It will make you closer to India.” I watched each morning as men and women bathed in the river, washed their faces in the river, drank from the river. Hindus and Jains came here to die, the Ganges serving as the divine cosmic road to salvation. Tourist boats rode up and down the water, the people on them snapping photos of cremations.
"the last time i saw you"
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Two weeks ago, I was in Berlin. I had met a group of backpackers at the hostel and we went out for burgers at Burgermeister in Kreuzberg (if you get the chance, you should go). We got our food and sat at one of the tables near the road, laughing and drinking beers. One of the girls had put her purse on the table, right next to the road. Picture a high table, with a barricade blocking the street, but not sidewalk; that meant, if someone on, for example, a bike or a motorcycle wanted to reach over the barricade and grab something off of our table, he or she very well could.
“You should take your bag off the table,” I cautioned. We were in a safe neighbourhood in one of the safest cities in Europe, but still I couldn’t help but think that her purse looked awfully vulnerable.
“I know, I know, I always forget to do these things!” She laughed. “Maybe this is why I’m always getting things stolen from me.”
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Clockwise from top left: Rio de Janiero, Brazil; Bocas del Toro, Panama; Cali, Colombia; Machu Picchu, Peru; Uyuni Salt Flats, Bolivia; Winnipeg, Canada; Buenos Aires, Argentina; Flying Over Belize; middle photo,…
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Popayan, Colombia That’s a photo of me and my new friend Pie, from Amsterdam. We met in Cali, although, after talking about our past travels, we realised we were also in Medellin…
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In a way, travel relationships, whether they last for days or for years, start off just like any other relationship. Your eyes meet across a bar full of young and sun-tanned backpackers, you smile at each other over the noise of a street festival, you complain together about the heat or the slow Internet or how long you’ve been waiting for the bus. He’s from South Africa or Sweden, Turkey or Australia, but it doesn’t matter; he’s not from where you’re from.
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Winnipeg, Canada I’ve often wondered where I’ll “settle down”. I put that phrase in quotations because I’m not sure that I’ll ever really settle; my dream life is a slightly nomadic one,…