I was walking through the terminal, watching people walking quickly, almot running- perhaps they were late for their flight. I saw some people talking, but despite not knowing what they were talking about, I was interested in their body language. The man was facing the woman, keeping his focus on what she was saying. She was animated, talking a lot, hands waving around. They looked, I had decided, to be on their first holiday together, or their honeymoon- and what a funny thing, I was travelling alone.

I was walking alone, I’d be sitting on the beach alone, I’d be sightseeing alone. Yet, all of this loneliness did not make me feel lonely: it made me watch what was going on. I would be watching, looking, scrutinizing, analyzing. And with all of this observing, I would be able to pretend I’m in different worlds leading different lives. I could be watching a man in a bazaar trying to sell trinkets to unwilling European tourists and I would be understanding of his desire for some money, or at least some excitement. I could be watching a group of girls at the beach laughing and relaxing in the hot sun and wishing for peace and quiet. Travelling alone is understated- imagine the fun that you and your imagination could have if you sat in a cafe and just looked at the world around you.

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