OLD WORLD CITY/ SLOW TOURISM

Just walking along to the music cellar last night was as exciting as being in the place itself. Walking under an old clock, through dimly lit streets. Catching a thrill from the just-turned-Autumn air. Feeling very alert and prowly like a wild animal in new surroundings.

An unusually high number of people here seem to have deformities (rickets?) so it makes me conscious of how wonderful it is to be able to stride along. This is also because I got into some tortured thought process (because of a slightly sore back) at lunchtime that I might be going down with MS! No idea why. But for a few days afterwards, you feel differently about walking.

In the cellar, there is the kind of slightly shabby wooden decor that reminds me of an old cinema ad where people got holed up to dance the night away when there was a hurricane blowing ouside. I feel more at ease than I have for years in club-type environments, which I generally don’t enjoy that much. But it wasn't set in stone and maybe I'm a different person.

Maybe I was playing at being someone different when I was in the UK? I know that every time I open my mouth to launch an opinion, especially of the “generally, I don’t…” variety, I am forging an identity rather than describing anything. So much of our behaviour is just reacting to what others expect.

Now it's the weekend I should really be doing some more sightseeing. But why rush it? I love this slow tourism. It means that a metro station can be enjoyed as much as an art gallery, even more perhaps, because of the atmospherics.