When you’re in a place, a kind of robotic, mental head space as I’ve been in the past week (since the robbery), it often takes something just as unexpected to snap you out of it and Tuesday 22nd was such a day.
The day started with Pablo, a fellow yogi, treating us to a quick walking tour of BA before inviting us to lunch. He was the perfect guide; it was like I was seeing Buenos Aires with fresh eyes and I found myself looking up and around again, instead of in. Before I could fully comprehend the change of play, we’d left Pablo to his schedule and leapt aboard a bus, careening towards San Telmo and the person who was about to make the final cut.
The day before, I’d received an email from a fellow Aussie traveler, Ben Boyle, who’d been on walkabout in South America for the past 8 months. Although I didn’t know Ben, Renae Marsh, director/teacher Bikram Yoga Caloundra (just down the road from my home studio) had mentioned to him that our paths were sure to cross.
Ben was the first Aussie I’d seen since Vancouver, more Oz than the crocodile hunter, and sporting an accent to make all Australian’s proud! We entertained ourselves, chatting about our differing experiences on the road. I was jealous of him for the freedom to explore the length and breadth of a country, and he, jealous of me for the experience of travel with a daily yoga practice. It was easy to expose circumstance, laughing at how the universe provides and uncovering the little messages lying in wait. Two hours flashed by before Ben dropped 100 Pesos on the table, disappearing on route to his next adventure.
Then slowly, quietly, came the uneasiness – something just didn’t feel right, I was spooked. I looked around, not remembering where I was in the city – nothing seemed familiar: the cobblestones, the air, the people… and then I realised: I was traveling again – the uncertainty, the excitement, the unknown.. were my friends again.
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