Time never seems to slow down on the road. Lifetimes pass in hours–one moment there is Buddha smiling at me from an incense-filled temple and the next moment there’s a sea of motorcycles passing by. I’ve managed to cross streets and disappear completely. The language, the people and their chaos have embraced me and it feels magnificent to be anonymous, to know lovers by the way their eyes move and not by what is said and heard in passing.
But by far, this is the image I cherish most as a traveler. The man sets his life aside, poring over a book by the lake. He has removed his walking shoes, stilled himself, settled in—and still, the journey continues.
Hanoi, 1o November 2012