It is alone that I most enjoy visiting the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Roaming through the large domed rooms and long corridors excites in me the same feeling as standing in the center of a dark field under a starry sky; one feels minuscule, solitary, but also acutely aware of the transcendent powers of human intelligence. True, one is never alone at the Met but the presence of others need not be a hindrance. Rather, the comings and goings of others, their preoccupation with family and selfies, provides continual insight into human nature.
As a solo traveller, I have friends scattered throughout the museum.
Slavery