We meet again, lifetime after lifetime.
In this moment, I am sitting at Sarajevo Cafe Jardin in San Cristobal de las Casas in the Chiapas region of Mexico. ‘A Sunday Kind of Love’ by Etta James plays through the speakers. Yesterday, in an attempt to join my hostel friends for a Temascal (Mexican sauna), I missed the timing and ended up sitting in the streets of Rancho San Nicholas, with my phone at 1% battery, no available taxis and the thought in my head that I should be panicking.
I am sitting here at the first table of Fonda Florecita. It is a long picnic table spanning at least 30 feet, almost the span of the warehouse room, covered with a green, yellow and orange striped table cloth with a clear laminate film over it. When I travel, I find myself in enjoying the pleasurable trap of eating delicious foods as much as I enjoy jumping off 7 meter waterfalls.