Friday, June 22, 2012
After breakfast I hike the roads overlooking the village, thanking God for Zumba as I make my way up steep, windy hills. As usual the vistas are both breath-taking and quaint, like a Cezanne painting.
I move along and feel a funny contentment. No doubt some of it comes from being unshackled from the washing machine and dirty dishes. But it’s also the air, the food, the sun. I think of the people back home who would love this trip and know I’m lucky.