Somehow these thoughts keep flowing these days. Maybe deep down inside I wish I were a columnist. But that comes with unwritten worries about writer’s block, so maybe not.
Anyhow, if there’s something about myself I’ve discovered, it is that: I’m a walker. I walk.
Quite literally, I do. I walk about 15 to 20 minutes every morning to get to work upon alighting from the bus at a stop rather far away. Yes, this is in heels and work attire. Yes, this is come rain or come shine.
On Sundays after tuition, I walk home. This is easily a 20-minute walk depending on my speed, even further from work. I enjoy singing to myself when I do. Occasionally I take a detour to the supermarket and then back. That could be half an hour’s walk in total.
While on exchange, I walked to school and back everyday. This was a 30-minute walk one way, but the weather (both temperature and humidity) was much lovelier and much kinder.
When travelling alone in Paris, I walked all day before night fell and I took a metro back. I got through malls, random streets, stopped by a little booth to buy a crêpe then sat on the steps with strangers on their lunch break, and people watched before carrying on walking along the river and down to the cathedral. I always think you see more of the city this way.
I’m the sort of person who would rather hop out of a cab and figure out the way myself if I’m lost and the cab driver had no idea where I wanted to go.
I’m the sort of person who is delighted when her boyfriend tells the kind waiter at the bar in Four Seasons Langkawi (we crashed it for drinks, we did not stay there) not to send the buggy to take us to the reception, “we prefer to walk” as he would say.
This is despite the fact that we spent quite some time figuring our way around and getting lost in that wondrous resort. Walking was still preferred.
Perhaps growing up without a family car contributed to this. Perhaps it’s the idea of being in control of my speed, instead of leaving it in the hands of traffic conditions. Perhaps walking helps me think. Perhaps walking lets me smells the flowers along the way.
I may not be much of a runner; I may not be much of a swimmer. But I’m a walker.