Lazy Letter: Window Seat
I am on my way to the other town in the south. The first few moments of arrival would always be stressful. I always ask myself what if I don’t like it, or if I couldn’t enjoy it, which is all nonsense; every trip is special in its own way. It must be a part of the power of small towns and villages.
Seems so romantic to travel by train, but for some reason, I always take the bus; it must be the road itself that I’m attracted to. Or maybe because it’s easier to travel by bus. The clouds look lovely. Some of them seem so near as if I could touch them if I reached for the sky. The silver lines around the clouds that is a reflection of the sun makes them even look more dreamy, white, gray and so many other colors within just one piece of cloud. And a little bit of the blue sky here and there. So many layers of clouds, hard to tell the name of each one, or what type it is. They’re covering each other up. Some are dense and fluffy, like a pillow, a comfortable bed for a power nap. Some others are thin and shallow, just floating in between. It’s a pity that I’m not sitting by the window.
A break is needed every now and again, even if it’s only for a couple of days. Maybe I do need time to adapt and adjust to the new environment. It’s going to be a whole other town, I know. Feels like a whole other country in a way. The land looks different, people are most probably different too. The color of the sky is different anyway.
2.Nov.17 – on my way to Messajana
P.S. They said it’s a village, but I don’t think it’s a village. It’s a small town, perhaps the smallest one ever. Villages don’t have a museum, or a local sports club. Villages don’t have so many cafes. Although, what kind of town is it that doesn’t have a grocery store?! I think I need to get used to the fact that they just don’t! There are local shops, but not any supermarkets. And they don’t sell everything! They don’t sell parsley, for example, since most of the people grow them in their yards. No lemongrass during summer since it’s not the season. These locals shops and bakeries don’t even put up a sign because everyone in town knows where what is. It doesn’t really occur to them that there might be visitors around.
3.Nov.17 – Messajana, Portugal