Memoirs of a Traveller Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Coffee and Camera

This city was full of hills.

While the roads were clean and well maintained, they also seemed quite narrow and intricately connected.
Visibility wasn’t too great either, probably due to the changes in elevation.

Having just arrived here, I felt a little uneasy.

At least that’s what I told myself, deciding to park my car in a random parking lot and walk.

There is something I really like about walking.

No, that’s not quite what I mean.

and I guess you could say I felt a faint yearning for wandering around it on foot.

U-turning and changing streets when I hit a dead end.

But since wandering itself was my objective, I guess this was satisfying in its own way.

I had memorized the name of the street where I parked, so I won’t end up collapsing on the road somewhere.

Come to think of it, since arriving in this city I’ve spent a long time walking without ever stopping to rest.

As I looked around for somewhere to take a break, I spotted a cafe nearby.
It was an attractive little building, not too big, with a triangular-shaped roof.

I think I’ll try this place.

The inside of the cafe had a more antiquated, relaxed atmosphere than I had expected from seeing it from outside.

although the old man was more scary than attractive.
And so I went to sit at the counter, being very careful not to let my fear show at all.

“You a tourist?”

The owner’s voice was (if it’s not rude of me to say) surprisingly soothing.

“Yes, I just arrived in the area a little while ago.”

I found myself calmed by his voice, and ordered a coffee as I complimented him on what a nice place he had.

Besides me, there was only other customer.

She seemed engrossed in reading,
so completely focused on her book that she hadn’t even glanced at me when I entered.

There was classical music playing, sounding like something from a record,

The song was a concerto dominated by low-pitched string instruments.

These were photographs of things like scenery and people.
Oh, and behind the owner was a shelf lined with glasses, cups, and a single camera.

Just perfect.
I’ll talk about that camera.

I felt somehow relieved to have found a suitable conversation topic.

But that name doesn’t really seem right for such a down-to-earth place.
I guess I’ll just play it safe.

“Sir, are you into photography?”

The man glanced over his shoulder at me.

“I was, long ago,” he answered briefly.

“I like photography too, and carry a camera around with me.”

I removed my camera from my backpack, and held it where he could see it.
After asking politely for permission, he carefully took possession of the camera with a practiced hand, and then returned it to me gently.

“It’s pretty old.”

“Yes, it does seem to be.”

“Was it a gift?”

“Yes.”

“That’s quite some camera.”

“Yes, it is.”

During our short conversation he brought out my coffee.

I decided to simply enjoy my coffee in silence for a little while.

I try to have a cup each day, even when I’m out camping.

“A long time ago, I used to travel quite often.”

His voice came from the other side of my coffee’s fragrant steam.
I was startled by its suddenness, but decided to be polite and listen to his story.

“Together with that camera you see on the shelf,

and took many pictures.

I had wanted to preserve the memories

But, one day,

The thing is, I couldn’t remember all of them.

But there were also many that I didn’t.

I decided to take a single picture
only when I found something I really wanted to remember.”

The owner went on to tell a story about each of the photographs on the walls.

Enjoyable stories, unpleasant stories.
But I thought it was nice how he could talk about every one of these memories.

“Sir, it looks like you’ve went on many wonderful trips.”

The owner smiled slightly.

“Actually, I’d much appreciate if you’d call me ‘barista’.”

Upon hearing this, I realized there was something surprisingly refined about this gentleman.

Just then, the young women sitting at the counter finally looked up from her book and called out to the owner.

“Grandpa, another milk tea please.”

This place seemed to have such an at-home atmosphere.

“She’s my granddaughter and is helping out here.”

So this cafe was family-managed.

Apparently she was attending a college in this city, and was studying to become a school teacher.

With everything that happened, I ended up staying there for quite a while.
I said my goodbyes to the owner and his granddaughter, and left the cafe.

Sometimes I think about how the flow of time within a nice cafe seems to be different.

As I was considering what to do next, I heard a voice from behind.
It was the granddaughter from the cafe.

“My grandfather said to give this to you.”

It was small bag filled with several rolls of film.

I decided to accept the gift,
and politely thanked her.

“It’s really too bad though.”

There was a hint of mischief in her smile.

“This is just a regular city with nothing special in it.
I’m not sure if you’ll find anything memorable here.”

As she spoke, the young woman was framed by a beautiful cityscape painted in the hues of a dazzling sunset.

“Sometimes it takes an outsider to realize a city’s true beauty.”

I said this and took out my camera.

This was a bit of a challenge for me, being as greedy as I am.

I carefully focused the scene.

Only once for each memory to remember.

Because that was my own memory of that time.
One was all that I needed.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget about the day I took this picture.

Chapter end