Oz's last day and he did as little as possible. In fact he was so quiet during the morning & early afternoon he might as well have already been home. I had a last check of Poste Restante. I think dad's letter has gone to Old Delhi but as they only keep them for 1 month and it's at the other side of the city I can't be bothered to check.
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In the early evening Oz loaded up his rucksack for the last time & we headed to Connaught Place. We looked around a few bookshops & took our time over a meal. At around 9pm I left him waiting for the airport bus and surrounded by beggars.
2012
342 days down and Oz and I parted ways. He was off back home to the real world of 9 to 5 work, sensible temperatures and domestic bliss. I, on the other hand, was off to do the lone traveller thing across China, Mongolia and Russia. Still travelling back home but by a slightly more tortuous overland route.
Was our parting that emotional at the time?
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Men were men back in those days. None of this kissing on the cheeks and hugs.
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