One Road, A Hundred Walks
Have you thought about this?
There’s a road in Bir. Around the Landing Site. The one with all the cafes, the one where everything happens.
I’ve only been here for a month and a half, but I’ve walked this road more times than I can count.
During the day. Twilight. And night.
Alone. With strangers. With friends.
Same road, same backdrop, same shops. But never the same walk.
One evening, I was walking fast, matching the pace of a conversation that made my soul jump in excitement. Our words tumbled over each other, spilling into our steps. We weren’t rushing anywhere, but we were rushing together—two kindred souls finding a connection we had both longed for. The buzz of the cafes, the hum of the street, everything matched our energy.
Another night, it was the opposite. A slow stroll in the drizzle. The kind of quiet that feels safe. Two weeks of being roommates had already built the connection; words weren’t needed. We were just stepping out to shake off a bad day, letting the stillness of the mountains and the rhythm of our steps bring us back to ourselves.
Some walks have been full of laughter, my eyes always catching flashes of colourful paragliders in the sky. Some, just venting, weaving complaints into the mess of the street. One time, I got lost in a conversation about life and dreams, noticing all the different kinds of people I passed. Another time, I just listened—realizing the complaint wasn’t really about someone else’s mistake, but a reflection of the speaker’s own insecurities.
And then there were the walks with just me.
Some days, I walked like I was carrying something heavy, unsure how to set it down. Other days, I moved as if there was music playing just for me—light, easy, free.
Same road. A hundred different rhythms. A hundred different versions of me.
And I’ll be here for another month. How many more walks will this road carry? How many more versions of me will it witness?
This is what happens when I travel slow. I stay long enough to form a bond with a place, but never long enough to forget I’ll be leaving soon. The awareness of time is sharper, impossible to ignore.
But isn’t this true everywhere?
Haven’t we all walked the same road in a hundred different ways—without ever stopping to notice?
I think about that now. How every street I’ve ever walked has held so many versions of me. How I’ve rushed, wandered, hesitated, danced. And how the streets reflected it back—sometimes in the pace of people around me, sometimes in the details I chose to see.
And I wonder—what if I paid more attention? What if I walked every road like I was only passing through?
Little Joys
“Joy is always around if only we pause to acknowledge it.”
With life's burdens and big ambitions, it's easy to overlook our everyday joys. Let’s take a moment to acknowledge the small joys from the last week. Here are mine -
My favourite cat from the place I was staying came to cuddle with me on my last day there. She came to me on the very first day I was there.
I made a real painting! With real paint, a real canvas and real techniques.
Had an amazing night with a couple of friends that kept going till dawn.
Made an sweetheart of friend with whom I’m now neighbours with for the next one month.
Back to having a private room after 3 weeks of being in a dorm. While that was fun too, it brings me great joy to have privacy again.