Thanks Frank for another lovely photo from your travels.
I had come to pay my last respects to an uncle I hadn’t seen for two years.
I’d asked for directions from one of the villagers and amid rampant arm waving, pointing and hand motions, felt a long trek before me.
When asked how long it would take, I was told it was about half an hour’s walk.
I was already exhausted.
There was no cafe to sit in to recharge my flagging spirit and tired body.
Defeated, I sat down on the pavement.
‘Hey, mister!’ shouted a young boy of about eight. ‘I know a short cut!’
Excited, he helped me to my feet, and turning a corner, pushed me towards a flight of stone steps.
‘When you get to the top, turn right and the cemetery is directly in front of you.’
‘Thank you. But why didn’t the old man tell me that?’
‘Haha. That’s my grampa. He doesn’t like strangers passing his door at tea time.’