I like Chinatown.  I love the overwhelming smells, and the man who yells out a never-ending list of random things, like ‘movie tickets!’ and ‘do you want some tea?’ to no one in particular.  I like the cheap and brightly coloured items that make me clap my hands with delight when I discover something new.  There is an old cabinet with chipped green paint that I covet in my favourite store.  It has been in the shop for as long as I have been going there.  I like to visit it, open its doors and run my hands along the sides.  It is one of those things that make me totally and completely happy and I hope that one day, if things work out, I’ll be able to bring it home and open the doors to my heart’s content, run my hands along the sides and love it unconditionally. 

 

I always go to Chinatown with the same person.  She is equally enamoured of the trinkets and bright colours and she lets me spend as long as I need picking out the perfect item from the pile of items that are, to the untrained eye, exactly the same.  Our little adventures remind us of foreign countries that we long to return to.  One day we will get back there, but for now we are content to explore this different world within the walls of our city.