Sometimes when I’m ambling down the street and fellow city workers rush past me, I sing a little song to myself: “I’m a slow walker and you think it’s not fair, but I’m a slow walker and I don’t care.”
Friends have tried to make me speed up but that just makes me want to drag my feet out of stubbornness. City walkers move impatiently past me, but I don’t rush from place to place and I don’t see why I should. I don’t stand and gawp in the middle of the sidewalk, and I keep to the right so it’s easy for people to pass me, so I don’t understand the sighs of frustration as people do pass me. There’s sidewalk enough to share!
At my pace, I’m able to see little things to brighten my day or amuse me, like a kid making up a hopscotch game as she waits for the bus with her mom. At my pace, I can look around and enjoy the sights, and feel like I’m really a part of whatever place I’m in.
I’m a slow walker at home and I’m sure that won’t change when I go on my trip. Since most of the time I’ll be doing my own thing, it shouldn’t be an issue. I will have to speed up some if I go on tours, so as not to slow down the whole group, but otherwise I’ll see foreign sights as I see hometown ones–at my own pace.
Image from here.