We slow to a stop and park the bike. I swing myself off the backseat and achingly stretch for a moment before staggering towards the chai shop.We’ve been riding for over 5 hours now – my bum is sore, my clothes are wet and my face is far to wind-swept. Hot chai and greasy pakora hit the spot – sweet and salty, smooth and crispy. Yes.
Later, we take two small cups of lentils mixed with chilli and onion, to compensate for the guilt of mowing down on deep-fried chickpea flour.
My body is still buzzing from the intensity of riding fast and steady.
We take another chai, the warmth is everything I need.
We travel without a plan, no real destination. Just heading up into the hills, into the jungle. We’ve been on the road for only a few days now, but it feels like a whole new chapter.
Our relationship is in it’s flow. We are the same. Moving through time and space, together in synchronicity.
We’ll ride until dark and take the cheapest room. As long as we have a place to sleep and each other’s bodies to stay warm, we are content.
I don’t consider myself ‘lost’ anymore. I was confused before but now I better understand.
I’m not lost. Actually, I am completely free.