There is a terrific peal of thunder as lightning arcs across the sky, making everyone jump. As the first raindrops begin to pelt down the wind suddenly whips up into a frenzy, swirling clouds of dust across the earthen parking lot. People shriek with surprise and flee to the cover of the shops along the edges of the lot, and for some reason it all feels uncomfortably like the end of the world for just a moment.

One of our favorite aspects of traveling is the "travel day" - those times where the entire day is more or less spent getting from one place to another. We've had dozens upon dozens of them over the course of our adventures together, and have generally loved every single one. But none of them hold a candle to this one.

As soon as I stepped out of our room into the dim, empty hallway I could tell something was wrong. There was a bizarre, almost musical humming coming from around the corner, and the light was shimmering around oddly. Curious, I turned the corner, and beheld a scene that nearly defies description.

There are a few people we've met who have been curious about how we're able to afford our travels. They're almost suspicious about how we can do it. We joke that perhaps it would make more sense if we had won the lottery: windfalls are sometimes easier to accept than budgeting.

There's an enjoyable other-worldliness about the place. It would start right when we'd wake up in the middle of a completely circular room, with the pattering of the falling rain outside punctuated by the bleated complaints of the soaked livestock.