Bodhgaya To Delhi To Dharamsala
Dom and I split off from the group for a couple of days. Instead of another long bus and train ride, we fly from the capital of Bihar (Patna). We take a Tata driven by the fellow whose nieces I met yesterday. Annand is along for the ride.
Once again, we are in Maoist country. It looks much different from the car than the bus. The houses are close. The wood fires fro breakfast n the grass huts stings the eyes.
We stop for tea at a crossroads. I can terll from the wide eyed look of the people in the “tea house that big white guys with pony tails don’t stop for tea every morning.
It’s a modified grass hut with deep recesses and an open front. There are maybe ten long tables (like the coffe shops in the real Italian partds of north beach. It,s dark back there and staring eyes are <–Previous – Next–>









