Finding a spot where I can become a “regular” has been delightful. I see the same people, we might nod or just silently acknowledge. What I order varies little, yet they do not assume, which I appreciate. The floor is slightly unkempt, flecks of croissant strewn around. Patrons drift in for bread and cheese and occasionally lounge around with coffee and newspaper; I didn’t know people still read them.
I sit for an hour or two if I can peel away that long from work and leave a minute or two before they close at 2pm.
Hot, humid, sultry, and sweaty; Noisy, crowded, busy, and bustling; And yet, efficient, modern, convenient, and comfortable. A 180-degree change from -2 C to 32 C was a shock, to say the very least. And to think I’ve spent the first half of my life in temperatures hotter than this, and yet unable to tolerate it anymore, was amusing.
The contrast of colors shook my soul awake. The juxtaposition of tradition ebbing in the architecture against the backdrop of the modern system and skyscrapers was exciting to see.
The sharp sun, coming in at an angle different from the northern hemisphere (i.e., none at this time of year), cast crisp, beautiful shadows on the streets and buildings.
Colors popped everywhere
Unlike what I remember from my visits to Tokyo, Shanghai, and New York, the abundance of greenery was a welcome departure. It caused a strange sense of deja vu that I just couldn’t pin down
A few days later, I was blessed with a welcome respite of rain. To say it rained is an understatement; it poured, nonstop, ironically bringing the humidity down.
Accidental discovery of Din Tai Fung, brought back memories of Hong Kong, where I first discovered it.
