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Chennai-Denmark 4: A Roman Holiday

It was still dark when I woke up to the warm, comforting smells of lemon-flavored rice and its accompaniment, potatoes roasted red in oil and chilly powder. Smiling at what lay ahead of the day, I woke up K and R and went into the kitchen. Sumi had already made everything ready for the day ahead. Packing all of the food into assorted plastic boxes and getting into fresh clothes, we made our way to the bus stop when a slight drizzle began. Each raindrop stung like a pinprick, but we continued our trudging up and down the roads around Aarhus to reach the bus stop. A 2-hour bus trip stood between us and the Billund airport, from where we would catch a flight to the papal land. The bus shelter resembled the lobby of a 3-star hotel in Chennai; it had clean, neat rows of furniture for people sit with their children, read books, or even look out the clean glass windows at the far off harbor, where ferries and ships played hide and seek.
We made ourselves comfortable with a piping hot black …

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