My love for Japan is a secret to none. But lately, I have been wondering:
Can I love Melbourne as much as I love Japan?
This question arises almost every morning ━ when I must layer my clothes, put on my boots, and zip up my Uniqlo puffer jacket to work.
The question has been lingering throughout the cold days.
Kept appearing and reappearing during the hours I spent scrolling through Japanese feeds fed by Instagrammers who live in Japan.
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The answer appears ever so slightly…
When I sat in front of a plate of piping hot soup, Buntut served at our go-to Indonesian restaurant or when I took the second serving, making the best of the $17 buffet deal at our go-to Srilankan restaurant.
When I hear Melbournians cherishing Melbourne, from celebrating the new cafes to swarming the pop-up farmer markets.
Or when I sip flat white and immediately rain on the sense of gratitude that I am drinking the best coffee in the world (don’t even try to argue with me about it).
Can I love Melbourne as much as Japan?
During the long drives to get drunk at the best wineries drinking the best wines our money can buy.
When every turn in the Collingwood neighbourhood transformed into a catwalk, realizing it was the first time when my senses were delighted by the street fashion.
Stepping into the indie bookstore scene in unassuming corners of the city, discovering and celebrating the local talents.
Can I love Melbourne as much as Japan?
During my time with Liz exploring South Yarra ━ we made plans to check out new places in the once-shared neighbourhood, knowing fully well that we would squeeze in a few dates in Dainty for the lethal combination of toothpick-beef and cold noodles.
Or when I stopped for obligatory shoe pictures surrounded by beautiful autumn foliage.
The same answer peeked into my mind earlier today when I grumpily turned to a street to catch my bus in the cold morning and was treated to a beautiful view of the winter sky.
Can I love Melbourne as much as Japan?
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