If I were on this tour bus I wouldn’t have been able to take this picture.

There are a myriad of ways to transport yourself on a vacation. This tour bus, as it goes by, shows faces inside glancing at me as the tour driver describes thIs area with a microphone in his hand. Inside a tour bus you can’t stop a moment, poke around, talk to someone, have a bite to eat, try to understand a sign in a foreign language. You are moving quickly and if you are thinking about your security system back home you miss a Presidential Palace, or the church where Columbus attended his son’s wedding, or a great cafe where locals eat.

You can’t know a place by listening to a driver tell you what you are passing after you have already passed it.

I’ll know this place like a tour guide before I leave and take some of it home in postcards and memories.

The tour bus passes me and I can hear the driver talking into his microphone, the facts sounding a little garbled and out of sync with the surroundings.

His words sound, to me, like the clouds in your coffee.

 

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