way to lahore

I was in a bus, women next to me was sick. All the way.

I thought it was good sitting next to the women, no, I wasn’t.

We were driving with two police cars- one in front and one behind us. They had almost constantly their siren on which made me laugh. Three stops for meals. Wagah border, where the ceremony already started, police had to organise drive through all these hundreds of people. There we were, in Pakistan. No going back, I had to go, face my destiny, or better say- my crazy travel ideas.

Porters in blue turbans with long beards were really dissapointed I didn’t let them carry my rucksack. I was dissapointed as well. It was hot, rucksack was heavy and controls were many. But I really had no money at all.  Border controll lasted forever. Bus was full of people, children and laggage. Porters carried every bag, package, sack and suitcase from the bus all the way to the check- point and then back. They controlled everything. They also opened mine. I forgot about the pepper spry that Cris gave me ‘just in case’. When they took it out and ask what it was I didn’t know what to say, I completely forgot it was there.

‘Mosquito spray?’ they asked helpfully.

‘Yes, yes! mosquito spray!’- easy.

Also, totally unaware I smuggled a small plastic bottle of vodka, mine and Cris’s idea to keep our stomachs free of bacterias.

After controls, there was yet another meal. Tea with deep-fried samosas. I had enough. I was not hungry which caused general surprise. Not carying about anything anymore I was sitting outside. Our bus was late and my mobile didn’t work. I asked to make a phone call.

In a small, dirty office I called him just to say we will see each other in about an hour.

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