India. Ancestral land thousands of years before our era. A land steeped in history and spirituality. Symbol of inner journey around the world, where traditional India and modern India are mixed. Mysterious and captivating, India tempted me into a thrilling adventure that I will never forget. When I arrived in New Delhi, the first thing that struck me was...the smells. Far from the scents of spices, saffron or even incense, I was greeted by the foul smells. The atmosphere and the bustle of the city were as oppressive as the ambient pollution. The city was teeming with cars, rickshaws, scooters and those 28 million souls that populate it. A kind of organized chaos. In this tulmut, I sat down in a small,well-established vegan café, where I ordered a Chapati with several bowls of brightly colored sauces and lentils served with a glass of a hot Chai latte. There I met Sunraj, whose name means "Sunset", a Californian of Indian origin in his early forties living in India 6 months a year. His long silky black hair contrasted with the bright white of his smile. His gaze emanated a deep peace. He explained me that nobody likes Delhi, but for business it is unavoidable. If I wanted to see the deep heart of India: "Go to the East, to Varanasi, and follow the desires of your soul," he told me with a benevolent tone. A renewed hope took hold of me. I boarded one of the famous blue trains of the Indian Railways to Varanasi, originally called Benares, for a "short" ride of 18:30 hours. In Varanasi, the whole country celebrated Diwali, the festival of lights. Varanasi is a small country town where the only tourist attraction is the Ganges River with its purification and cremation rituals celebrated in its waters. On the banks of the Ganges, there is always a crowd of Indian and international tourists and a few Sâdhus, who meditate dressed in orange togas. Stalls full of garlands of yellow and orange carnations and other street shops are scattered along the alleys leading to the banks. Cows ands dogs are wandering freely through the city. Everything was intense: the smells and pollution were much worse than in Delhi. The air was unbreathable. Nevertheless, the liveliness,the lights and the crowd made it incredibly vibrant. Then I became seriously ill. I learnt later that I had contracted a violent turista. Although I brought a lot of medicines, they had no effect on the disease. I could no longer feed myself, walk or even communicate. Two Indians working in the hotel where I was staying carried me with difficulty to the nearest hospital, since I had no sufficient strength to stand. Far away from the sanitized, air-conditioned Western hospitals, one thought obsessed me : "What am I doing here? Am I going to make it out alive? ". I did not find the wisdom nor spirituality I wanted to see here. I did not want anything else, I just wanted to go home. My trip back was planned two weeks later. "How was I going to hold on until then? " Then, I remembered the advice of Sunraj. Follow the desires of my heart. I left the city to reach the south of India in a small village called Candolim. I stopped at the Corner Jazz Café where I was served what seemed to be the best pineapple juice I have ever tasted until then. My senses were awakened again. My palate progressively rediscovered the taste of the food and the local seafood. Having lost more than 7kg in the past week, I was still very weak. The sea air was refreshing to me. The sea was covered with an azure blue, coconut trees had replaced the outdated buildings. Far from the city bustle, here you could feel the time slowing down and take the time to live. On the balcony of the guesthouse I had rented, I saw smiling, shy, mischievous children, intrigued by my mere presence. I got to know simple people from all over the world, and yet so extraordinary that I would never have had the opportunity to meet without this experience. These people become your treasure and you become theirs. And without even realizing it, you finally find that long-awaited magic. You open yourself up to life, as it is at this very point on the Globe. Without judgment and banished from all expectations, there lies the true source of wisdom I came here to seek. It was, in fact, within me. Gilbert Chesterton wrote: "The traveler sees what he sees and tourists see what he has come to see". And you, what did you see on your last trip?