When you love a city and have explored it frequently on foot, your body, not to mention your soul, gets to know the streets so well after a number of years that in a fit of melancholy, perhaps stirred by a light snow falling ever so sorrowfully, you'll discover your legs carrying you of their own accord toward one of your favourite promontories.
My Name is Red, Orhan Pamuk
It happens to me in Mexico City and in Puebla, every time, even though we don't have snow here. I don't even have to be melancholy, I just set out and walk, and end up in the same places, time after time. It's wonderful.
Do you have any favourite haunts, that you go to without even meaning to?
|Independence Column, Mexico City|
|San Pedro Cholula, Puebla|