Bubhaneswar, the eighty-ninth day,

           There is always this anxiety from leaving a place with its habits, but also a new way to approach it, improvisation. A train derailed on the line from Puri, I will take a bus, there is no bed, I will put myself on the "waiting list", there is no seat for me, I’ll sleep sitting on the edge of the bed of someone else.

           The day brought the visit of temples inhabited by many deities haloed with cobra heads and some carved phallus emerging of stylized lotus flowers and also the meeting of a new traffic cop, English this time.

 I tried to explain the possible relationship between ethnic fashion "couture" for which I worked and this trip but it seemed difficult to find one with his work. Anyway, the solitude he enjoyed in the middle of the street, away from his colleagues, seemed valuable.