A whole three months later, I am showing you the last photo I took in New Delhi, just before getting into a taxi to go to the airport. Those are our street cows, showing me their bums because they don't care that I am going home. And there is the gentleman that spends his days sweeping rubbish onto heaps just for the wind to blow it all over again. He lived in a little hut in an alley, I honestly don't know how he slept in there. One night he nearly spat on me. He didn't hear me coming down the alley, but fortunately he cleared his throat before spitting, so I waited for the fluid projectile to fly past before walking on.