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Me sitting on my bed in Delhi, India

After enjoying Christmas so much, I'm planning a similar evening on New Year's Eve. I take the beer in the fridge, cuddle up in a chair surrounded by candles, and write. I make some tough decisions concerning my onward journey and clear up my mind. I also decide to stay in India for a week longer. I'm feeling too good here, and my adventurous spirit hasn't stirred up yet. Both clear signs that I need even more peace. And since rest has become the most valuable and rare commodity on my journey, I hesitate to let it slip away again. Since my hosts are the friendliest beings, they offer me to hibernate here (like, through winter). For a moment, that thought lingers in my head, but as my budget deteriorates, my helplessness drives me to take action. I will continue into Nepal, then to Tibet, for a short week and a three-day train ride through China to Laos. Then I will almost be in Australia once my budget runs dry. With a bit of luck and volunteer work, I might still be able to do it. I would have to skimp and turn around every penny twice (which I find very difficult), but that would be worth it.

New Year is celebrated in India as it is in Germany, at least the soundscape is similar. I don't actually go outside to see. Out of zeal and thoughtlessness, I booked a train ticket a couple of days earlier, which takes me to Jaipur on the 1st of January 2018 at a little before 7 am. For A. and me that means that we go to bed early on the 31st and get up at an unhospitable hour. I knew from the beginning that I had no ambitions to go to clubs in Delhi, but not two seconds did I think A. might want to party with his loved ones. I'm surprised at myself. I quickly got used to having someone else do things for me. I take notice and hope that next time I think twice. The following day, as always, A. makes me some eggs and toast, a tea and then I stumble out of the house and into a new year...

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