My ankles are swollen. From downward dog, I had a clear view of the elastic band pattern left by my socks. This is what 36 hours of transit will do. I didn’t do any yoga during my 5 hour layover in Johannesburg because I was full of “Full English,” British Airways’ version of the biggest breakfast choice at Denny’s. So I did my practice when I got to the hostel in Windhoek. I found a nook where no one was drinking (a common hostel activity that I don’t care for during yoga) or napping (which could bother them, depending on how crazy I got with ujjayi breath.) I stayed on my mat in my nook while people stared, mainly hostel staff who make me think Namibia doesn’t have much exposure to yoga. Obviously (to those of you who know my practice) I skipped Supta Kurmasana and Kapotasana. But my practice felt full and now I’m human again and ready to sleep well (or at the very least reclining.)
After looking at my ankle pic, I should reward you with these pics of my two new friends.