CONSTELLATIONS // NEXT STOP: TRANSCENDENTAL PASTRIES

Mourning the Shops and Stations of Time

A farewell to Philly—for now

by Diana Lu

EXCERPT //

Next spring, after a decade and a half in Philly, my next role takes me back to Chicago. The timing of this joyous opportunity is bittersweet. I begin my pre-nostalgia tour wistfully, retracing walks, rides, and haunts of my favorite memories. So many weekends I walked down Baltimore Avenue, eating, shopping, going to Clark Park, walking and ultimately wheeling Darla. The pet shop. The independent bookstore. Places where I tripped or crashed my bike. Each stroll reinforced my neural pathways, tying me to place and home. Where will my new Chicago haunts be? Which new neighborhoods and corridors would I stroll through daily? The new webs haven’t shaped in my mind, the anchors and paths to be determined, dotted only by Metra, Chicago’s transit station.

Constants like the airports and line colors are permanently embedded in my mind. When I first visited Philly in 2009 as a serious next-home contender, I had three things on my city checklist: hairdresser, good bakery, and good transit. I stayed with my friend Daniel’s sister, who taught me how to navigate SEPTA. “You’ll love that bakery,” Daniel told me with certainty of the French-inspired Metropolitan Bakery, gesturing to my beloved tattoo of the Paris transit sign by French Art Nouveau architect and designer Hector Guimard. This symbol of Paris ties me back to one of the happiest times in my life, studying, traveling, eating, and riding transit in France. Daniel was right. Nearly fifteen years later, I still love the pastries at Metropolitan. //

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