96. Spring!

McLoud is filling with tourists who have been spending the winter sunning themselves on the beaches of Goa or in the Ashrams in Rishikesh.  Or at home saving up for their holiday.  They are different.  Mostly they don’t look as…………….well……..….travelled as the rest of us  –  clothes a bit less lived in and more western somehow, they wear cream and beige which look clean.  They walk more slowly and linger in shops.  And they are bigger.  Physically.  Well, they look like hanger outers, very much in evidence in the cafés, no doubt falling prey to the gorgeous cakes.  Also a smattering of Great White Explorers.

We have gorgeous balmy days and horizontal rain.  Outside my window the weirdly shaped, spindly tree that I thought was dead is coming to life and the valley just beyond is greening over, the trees all blossom.  Its like an oasis in the chaos of buildings and tin roofs, with hens scratching around, children playing, dogs sunning themselves, cats fighting.  Eating my porridge I watch my neighbouring families on their roof tops and balconies, chatting, cleaning their teeth, hanging washing on railings, sorting their children, stretching and, like me, watching the world.