I wake up to fresh cold air that engulfed this city throughout the year, to a mountain view, to a morning buzz of rover streethawker selling breakfast.
I ride an automatic motorcycle to break the traffic jam that is getting worse everytime I come home. Motorcycle rider is the road owner, sadly.
I calibrate my taste buds, almost in every occasion, from this city of culinary heaven.
I shop at factory outlet or distro, part of creative industry-driven city elements.
I run through the rain that does not recognize any season.
I am served by customer-oriented services.
I am surrounded by soft-speaking, friendly people.
I just hope that I don’t forget coming back to Doha.
I am now in Bandung, Parijs van Java.