My travelogue

In 2011, I was chosen to represent India at an International Youth Forum in Tver, Russia. As always, the travel bug in me and my air France flight made me extend my 10day trip to a good 20days as: Mumbai – Moscow –Tver – St Petersburg – Moscow – Paris – Switzerland – Paris – Mumbai.
Russia was an experience of its own where I communicated with people through broken translated words and actions. People were warm and helpful but most would speak only Russian.
The camp involved living in the woods and it was an experience far from civilization with great speakers from across the world to learn from. It was now the last day at the camp when we bid farewell to our multicultural network I was bitten by a bug probably a mosquito and I did not care much as I traveled to St Petersburg that night. As I woke up in the bus next morning I saw my big swollen foot. After some anti-inflammatory spray from the hostel caretaker, I managed to limp without much pain for 2 days and saw the beautiful Venice of the North. The beautiful city of canals stole my heart. It was a friendlier and sunnier city as compared to Moscow and it had more life and some amazing architecture like the Hermitage to see. On day 2, I enjoyed a ferry ride across River Volga y the white nights.However, later that day my foot gave up. Luckily I had friends from the forum with me who carried me back to my room. But on our way we came by a doctor who volunteered to help and suggested a painkiller but prescribed in Russian. I popped in the pill and the pain lessened but my foot was still big and sore. Next morning I traveled to Moscow and then to Paris with a girl from the forum who lent me her big-sized slipper to wear. On reaching Paris, I met a doctor who could speak English. She told me it was an infection due to an insect bite and I started to pop in the new set of pills that she gave me. I decided to go to Montmartre that evening. As I entered the beautiful Basilica of the sacred heart of Paris, the Sacre Coeur, I forgot all my worries. When I walked inside the church, I observed people in a line waiting to write a wish/message to God in a book. I smile and walked past but then came back and decided to write to God about my foot. With an evening well spent I went to bed back in my hostel.
Good morning Paris! Day2 had something better than the Eiffel ; my foot was smaller. I could now wear my own shoes. As I popped in my next pill, I wondered if it was the doctor or the book at the Sacre Coeur.