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Finally.

On Tuesday morning I will collect my Mongolian visa and in the same evening I will take the plane to India (Oh is it obvious I couldn't wait any longer ?)

It's a one way ticket.

I actually don't know when I come back to Europe. I need to be in South France on the first weekend of October. That's my only deadline. I guess I'll be back somewhere in September. I don't know where I will be at that moment, where I will start from. Strange feeling.

Suddenly my feeling when i go through Paris has changed. Until yesterday it felt like home, somewhat familiar. Now I feel very intensively that the days are counted.  The places which were familiar: I will not see them again. The people I met in the last two months:  I won't see them again in the next  8 months.

I will take them with me the way I leave them now. In the next 8 months, Paris will stay grey and cold. My friend's horses in the countryside will still be shaking the snow from their blankets. In my mind everything will remain untouched even if I do know reasonably that life continues.

But for me right now, it freezes slowly.