I walk. I can walk for hours. I also found out this weekend that speed walking is a sport. An olympic sport. I took that class during PhysEd, sure. But my motivations included a strong dose of laziness and athletic rejection. Who knew. I guess, my gym teacher did. But back then, I never trusted anyone who runs for fun. Oh god! What are you??
But now, age has given me something called wisdom and something dumb and useful called experience. I realized that the thing that brings me utter joy always involve walking...or talking. Preferably, both. On a day like today, a light fabric falls on my body as I slip on some sneakers and socks (blisters aren't fun!). So while my travel compadres are struggling to keep up with me, the enthusiasm of this new city drives every single step. I am mesmerized by the cobblestone, the French influence injected in every building, cuisine, language, and person. The perfect attire. The perfect weather. The perfect city. Oh, Montreal. And, the perfect stroll.
Photos by Pedro MoralesBy Lynn Kim Do