…If there had been tears, we would have drunk them.
Thma Puok is far away from the closest village. It is the first time that we do such a long distance without finding a house, a gas station, a small shop or an umbrella with the typical little orange refrigerator…. The road is being repaired, which doesn’t mean asphalted. Road rollers are pressing and replacing the ground that will likely be swept along in the next rainy season (if not before, with the movements that trucks loaded until the impossible make when passing over it). Great Murphy came to accompany us in this lonely highway and, although we always carry some water with us, we did the whole way without a single drop. There weren’t so many kilometres, but the sun, the heat, the dust and not knowing how far we were, all salt-peppered with a feint of having left the village behind (when there were actually ten more kilometres to get there), made it an eternal way. The oasis from the desert caravans and the first gas shop at the entrance of Thma Puok, turned out to be the same thing for us, little heat waves when looking from the distance included.