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The bus stop abuts a "lovers' patio" where countless couples before me have purchased little colorful tags, written both their initials, and affixed them to the terrace's fence—same idea as the "love locks" on Pont des Arts bridge in Paris. Then I spot a Mc Donald's with unfamiliar food on the window decals and decide to go in; checking out weird regional variations in fast food is a hobby of mine.(Starbuckses in Taipei sell gelatinous tarts, and they are revolting.) I order the cheesy champignon Angus burger and sit at a long communal table. It tastes like a Shake Shack burger and mushroom stroganoff had a love-angel-music baby (with all due respect to Queen Gwen [prayer hands]).Ritz-Carlton Hong Kong, where a welcome note, a box of pretty chocolates, and a few buttery cakes await.

For context, that third one also just moved to Amsterdam after the couple spent nine months cavorting through Southeast Asia together.There's only one open spot inside the bus, next to a grandma sitting across a little table from her grandkids, so while couples who board with me must tromp to the open roof deck for sun-blasted seats, I sidle in with the family and cheerily plug in my headphones for the audio tour.Midday, I decide to depart from my red, double-decker chariot for lunch in Stanley Bay, a cool seaside town.Every travel decision is entirely my own, and I wind up meeting so many more cool fellow travelers or locals when I'm not perpetually engrossed in conversation with someone I've been talking to near-constantly for years.I've hooked up with hot dudes in far corners of the world, and I finished my novel with my feet buried in Balinese sand.

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