The next morning I was up around six am doing yoga on the balcony of my room, overlooking the maze and rose garden in the centre of it. Since I had fallen asleep relatively early last night, my body felt invigorated enough to have me up just as the sky turned a muted blue, signifying dawn was breaking. My yoga sessions usually took an hour and a half, which, by my standards, was a pretty good workout routine. It kept me flexible and toned.
As the sun came up slowly over the horizon, I switched from my leisure stretches to sun salutations, making sure to take an extra deep stretch from my hips. The whole being tortured thing and then the whole driving for twenty four hours thing had made me stiff, and the way my muscles ached when I did my poses confirmed the theory that being captive had put a cap on my nimbleness.
