Running Mount Royal

True story, unedited to make me appear less strange, so no judgement please. I’ve just devoured a vegan orange infused chocolate croissant (after breakfast)¬†and I think it’s a good idea to adventure on Mount Royal. I start to walk up sidewalks, through downtown Montreal, until I get to stairs, a clear path up the mountain. With a burst of energy, I leap up the stairs, two at a time, taking off layers as the evasive sun shines through the clouds. The redish orange scenery is breathtaking as bits of the buildings peak through, reminding me that I’m still in a city. Continue reading “Running Mount Royal”

Montreal

My feelings always surprise me. I’ve been so ready to leave Providence, yet when the anticipated moment comes, I’m sad. I’m filled with a sense of emptiness and loss, the loss of a life and community I’ve slowly built over the past two years. The loss of a community to which I belonged. Reflecting, I board a plane en route to Montreal, fully prepared to lose myself in the unfamiliar streets of another city. Sometimes I forget that I’m connected to everything, everyone. Continue reading “Montreal”

Jiufen Old Street

Waiting. Waiting for a number. Number 1062, the bus number that will take me across Taiwan to a picture of something I once saw, an idea I’ve followed here. Is this a good idea? The number appears, I drop my money into a box, and squeeze my way into a crowded bus, standing room only. An hour later, I am surrounded by lush, green hills, and the bus pulls drives into a painting. A painting of an old city on a hill, colorful temples, a market like a maze that stretches deep into the village, winding roads that travel up the mountains, weaving through the city, contrasted by a piercing blue sea below. Continue reading “Jiufen Old Street”

Lamma

Anticipation. I navigate the hectic, crowded streets of Hong Kong Central. Tourists and business men alike plough through the incessant traffic. Bodies run into me as I seek a ferry escape to the nearby island of Lamma. After navigating the complex, impassable streets of the Central Business District, I gratefully board a ferry to an unknown destination, a village name, and cross my fingers I’m headed the right way. Such is life. Continue reading “Lamma”