Island visit | Elephanta Island, Maharashtra, India

IMG_6061 IMG_6055 IMG_6052 IMG_6047 IMG_6031 IMG_6018 IMG_5859 IMG_5855 IMG_5853 IMG_5845 IMG_5837I found these images this weekend tucked away in a folder. Early August in India was pretty great.

On this day, so many months ago now, TT, Jess, and I made the short boat ride out to Elephanta Island from Mumbai. What I remember most from this place is the color. Everything seemed to glow.

Today in Chapel Hill, I’m wearing fur and its winter, but its just as bright and sparkly as it was in India on this day.

The good trains

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The good trains looked like this.

And I spent my time reading, writing, drawing, and taking pictures of my beautiful mother.

Today, I miss India. I miss moving. I miss the sounds.

[Photos: A train ride from Mumbai –> Delhi//Grace Farson]

Maybe I’ll come home. . .


Just maybe I’ll come home after all.

Three months ago, I left for India in a rush and now I’m coming back home entirely worn down. I feel that I’m returning home victorious, even though India and Nepal ultimately always win.

My body is broken, but I’m HERE. This was one trying though fulfilling summer and most importantly, it was a summer of learning a lot about LOVE. Love of place and love of people and opening up to it without any restraints.

This is the first time in all my travels that I’m actually excited to go home. In the past I’ve always pretended to be excited about returning, but this time around its real. I’m so looking forward to the security that’s found in the familiar. I am ready to feel safe, comfortable, and still all over again. And most of all, I’m looking forward to not standing out and going back to a place where I can go and not be questioned.

I look forward to home and to finding new adventures there too. This life and mindset doesn’t have to end just because I’ve packed my bags and am flying back to NC.

For now, I’m looking forward to 17 good hours in little London town and then d.c. and finally, home.

Until that next time.

[Photo: Yoga on a roof in Rishikesh at the start of this journey//Grace Farson]

Here now

look2I still cannot believe my lovely mother is in INDIA with me!

Today we’re celebrating her birthday in style -> Chor Bazaar with Ora and Aviva and friends, hanging gardens, and then dinner in style at the Taj!

Love from sunny, humid Mumbai.

[Photo: Gateway of India with Mother Teresa//Grace Farson]

Back to it. . .

trains copy

Train booked.

Traveling by train will be nice. No more buses again (*at least for a while).

Leaving the city of death (aka lovely Varanasi//Banares) the day after tomorrow and heading back to Mumbai.

Plans change, but its all a part of the journey.

“I wanted to go on sitting there, not talking, not listening to the others, keeping the moment precious for all time, because we were peaceful all of us, we were content and drowsy even as the bee who droned above our heads. In a little while it would be different, there would come tomorrow, and the next day and another year. And we would be changed perhaps, never sitting quite like this again. Some of us would go away, or suffer, or die, the future stretched away in front of us, unknown, unseen, not perhaps what we wanted, not what we planned. This moment was safe though, this could not be touched. Here we sat together, Maxim and I, hand-in-hand, and the past and the future mattered not at all. This was secure, this funny little fragment of time he would never remember, never think about again…For them it was just after lunch, quarter-past-three on a haphazard afternoon, like any hour, like any day. They did not want to hold it close, imprisoned and secure, as I did. They were not afraid.” – Daphne du Maurier

[Photo: Delhi’s trains//Grace Farson]




Writing from Rishikesh! (*Note: not pictured. That’s still Mumbai)

Ric Duncombe, you were right when you said time didn’t matter, but I’d know in a moment if I liked the place . . . and with Rishikesh, it was more like love at first sight!

Gorgeous. A bit cooler than Delhi. Yoga-filled.

Grace is content.

The area in Rishikesh near Laxman Jhula is an earth-child//tourist’s dream, much like Thamel, Kathamandu. . . It is all you could ever want and the world is made convenient and peaceful.

More to come later. . .

[Photos: Driving around Mumbai//Grace Farson]