like as the the birds that gather
in the trees of afternoon,
then at nightfall vanish all away,
so are the separations of the world
                          JK, Dharma bums
Humberto, Varige, met Dorothee on the backwater boat to Varkala. I met Dorothee, Lufthansa, in Goa, over breakfast at Camilsons. Dorothee left for Hampi, where she met Sybille, Swissair. Sybille met Grahame, Air Canada, touring the backwaters on a houseboat.
Somehow, one fateful morning, for the first time, we are all together for breakfast at Cafe del Mar. That same afternoon the five of us get together for a long and lazy lunch to send off Dorothee, who is leaving on the nighttrain, the lonesome traveler's favorite transportation. Could that be because when we wake up in the morning, after a nightride home away from home, the thrillsof the new town drowns the heartache that is leaving people and places we call friends and home for a while?  
But here, right here, between the red cliffs and the waves, we feast on a tasting menu as international as the company. Prawns fried rice is served with vegetable curry and chapatis, followed by spring rolls and 'spaghetti al olio e aglio' and then barracuda in garlic butter...and damn the torpedos.
Did the radio play a forgotten song, Sybille dear is coming on strong:
'She's leaving on a nighttrain, don't know when she'll be back again.' 

sneak a peak at Dorothee's journal for another look at this day


or http://blueprint21.de/diary/m58-kochi.htm

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