I did not touch the lion directly, but I touched my hubby who touched the lion. As per transitive law of Mathematics, I touched the lion.
The guides made sure that the tourists spent enough money to boost the economy. We went to two malls, Le Caudan Waterfront Mall and Riche Terre Mall in Port Loius, Mauritius.
Mauritius looks like a tiny speck in the middle of the Indian Ocean, located below the Equator.
We did not realize that just the two of us were walking farther and farther into the forest area. We were walking along the dirt beaten path, lined with dead old bamboo trees and snake nests. We heard voices of people joking and laughing, coming from a distance. After some time, I got scared of the possible wild life (snakes) that could surround us and my hubby became apprehensive of the mysterious faceless voices.
After my visits to Munnar, Goa and Coorg, I have realized that India is a beautiful country. It has a raw and undisciplined beauty, which is different from the European countries, like Switzerland and Austria. I have a personal relationship with this beauty. Every breath of fresh air I take, I feel that I am entitled to it, as though it were my birth right. The air doesn’t seem foreign in the least. I can come back any time to enjoy it without worrying about the visa or the expense. That is the magic of India for me. You have to learn to appreciate it. Like the superman who was willing to mute his senses to sustain on Earth, we have to tune out the crowds and the garbage around the scenic locations to appreciate the beauty of our country.
Our cab driver arrived a bit late and increased the blood pressure of my hubby. He was worried that we will have to drive to Coorg if we missed the bus. It would me mean 3 hours of him driving, 3 hours of me driving which amounts of another 3 hours of him driving sub-consciously. To the great relief of my hubby, the cab driver arrived with apologies, and took us to the satellite bus stop where we boarded the bus to Coorg.
At Vagator beach, we saw a buffalo enjoying the serenity of the sea. It sat facing the sea, observing the gentle waves. Its dark skin shined in the sun. May be the buffalo wanted to soak up the sunlight in the cold winter. The pesky foreigners did not allow the buffalo to enjoy its beach time. One foreigner tried to place a green cap on the buffalo from an arm’s length whereas the other foreigner got ready to take the picture. I felt bad for the buffaloes in Goa. They have to deal with these troublesome foreigners who disrupt their privacy.
As we passed along the river we saw a piece of the Parisian night life. The youth sat in groups with vodka bottles and other drinks by their side. Guys wore cool hats and scarves. Women wore long gowns, short skirts and coats. We also heard loud music and saw people were dancing. A person of African origin was teaching a white woman how to dance. A dining cruise passed by us. Couples seated across each other got to know one another as they waited for the food. On the banks of River Siene, I saw nothing but love and happiness. Paris indeed comes to life in the night.