A colleague recently pointed out, while asking B if he had visited Piața Centrală in Chișinău, that markets like these offer a glimpse into the local culture—how people interact, behave, and speak, revealing their backgrounds and way of life.
This idea applies to campsites too. With little (to none) privacy, an early morning coffee outside your tent becomes a window into the lives of others. Each campsite is like a small household, reflecting how people manage their space and relationships. Most people here are couples or families.
I enjoy (maybe too much) observing and imagining their lives. Some operate like a well oiled machine: the husband makes breakfast, the wife tidies up, then brews coffee. They sit together on a mat, enjoying a quiet breakfast, exchanging small talk; they also pry on others (thank God, I'm not the only one!). They're in their mid-50s. Another family is packing up. The dad struggles with folding a beach tent but remains patient, while the mom feeds the kids and organizes their things. Everything moves slowly, calmly. There's no stress, no friction. The dad keeps trying, taking his wife's advice without frustration (I suppose one learns in time which fights are worth picking in life). Nearby, kids about seven years old make tea while their parents sleep. It’s such a lovely scene.
These moments mirror their everyday lives, their natural rhythm. There's apparent alignment.
I keep watching, typing, and reflecting.
