When I flew back to Cairo last August, I had a nice nine hour layover in Amsterdam. Having never been there before, I decided to take full advantage by exploring the city before departing for my destination. I’m horrible with names and I wish I had written down the streets I passed through, maybe next time when I am able to visit again. Regardless, this was a tunnel I had sauntered through. Great lighting at the end and an interesting self-reminder that even in darkness there is light to guide one through as one cannot know or perceive one without the other.
Strolling in and out of corridors created by a blend of old and new buildings, an overpowering feeling of nostalgia for the past consumes me. It’s not so much that the past is better or worse than the present as I am more than well aware that people often feel a longing for the “way things were” but it’s really just the visual stimuli that I long for. Ironically enough, it’s in the midst of the clash between old and new, when the stimuli is most bluntly displayed, that I feel most nostalgic. Perhaps it’s that seeming feel of originality and/or authenticity that accompanies the past or maybe it’s an “old-world” kind of beauty.
The seeming displacement and beauty of a little bit of old and a little bit of new.