I remember the space, the distances, the forests, the sun and the cold, when I left the East Coast to travel inland. I remember steel, rust and Andy Warhol. Thank you John, for showing us Pittsburgh.

We went there to hunt down america’s 4th best sandwich. According to whom? Some journal. I forgot which one. We got there on a day when the Pittsburgh Penguins were playing some important match. The place was packed. We had to wait in line, but it was worth it. The sandwich was great. To avoid confusion, it was an american sandwich, not a british one. It gave me enough calories to skip breakfast and lunch on the next day.

Our path led us through urban wastelands …

… past the landmarks of a once great industry.

I remember the color of bricks and rust under a clear blue sky.

I remember the light.

I remember the spirit.

Things seemed more straight forward …

… pleasures less complex than in a coastal metropolis.

I remember the signs …

… and the beauty of details.

We left Pittsburgh and headed into the wilderness …

… which wasn’t so wild after all.

I remember the freezing cold …

… that caught this logs by surprise.

I wished I had a cape.