I watch the sun come up in Victoria’s inner harbour. The drawbridge goes up. Traffic backs up. Cars eventually block the intersection. Idiots.
There is construction in front of Amsterdam’s Central Station. They drained the canal out front and it looks the station itself is being worked on. In the summertime, the police would come by at midnight with the city utility workers and a firetruck and hose down all the backpackers sleeping in front of the station. They were warned.
There used to be a webcam just outside a bar on Koh Samui capturing the action in the beer bar and on the sidewalk, people walking by in shorts and t-shirts. I never liked these touristy spots, Amsterdam, Koh Samui. The tourists arrived and left. They moved too fast, did too much. True travel is about lounging around, going out to the suburbs and seeing how the locals live.
There used to be a webcam in New York’s Times Square showing all the tourists on the sidewalk there too. People walking by in jackets and baseball caps. I’ve been to New York twice, but never north of Central Park. Tourist.
I never used to have this much time. Ten years ago I would be up and out of the house, taking one or more kids to one or more schools. I’d go to the office, often arriving before 9am. Now I lay in bed listening to a news podcast as I wait for the coffee to brew. I have new routines now. Working from bed.
Then I write 300 words.
But then, 30 years ago I would have been out in front of the Central Station, running for a floating hostel. Then too I had lots of time too.
Time and money are opposite sides of the same coin. If you have time, you don’t have money and if you have money, you don’t have time. I’ve always looked for balance. The third side of the coin is the edge, the corrugated furrows, the parallel ridges, like false realities on the outside limits.