He walks steadily. Not the strolling amble of taking the air, but the unvarying march of someone with a destination in mind...
A home?
Some house or apartment?
But he walks... And keeps walking...
And I follow.
The dwellings I pass become more upmarket. Instead of shabby brick-builts converted to apartments, these look like the homes of the middle-classes. Neatly trimmed lawns and flower borders frame the kind of properties where you would expect to find lawyers, doctors and teachers.
And still we walk.
Where the hell's he going?
After nearly an hour, we pass beyond the residential areas, back into the commercial district. Streets become highways, lined by cash-and-carries, glass-plated car showrooms and furniture warehouses.
A workplace perhaps?
The pattern suggested shift work...
My mapping app is tracking the route. Even so, I'm not too sure where I am.