west gate

something akin to a day of rest, which is to say that there was little other than a gentle 18km wander with pauses beneath trees and a coffee, circling around the bay towards a small shell beach at maanshan, sitting listening to the waves and watching as blues and silvers sparkled in confusions occasionally forming the imaginary line of a horizon... later a bus journey north to the weekly night market in Hengchun... rumour being that no one in the city cooks on a sunday, they all head off to the market... could well be... busy and very cool, memories of memories, something akin to things not worth delving too deeply into, vague places mislaid in time... meanwhile the rabbit hole exits in aurangabad...