A few days back, after taking a round of beautiful hills surrounding Salt Lake City (SLC), we drove down to a popular, somewhat fashionable spot -- Harvey Milk Blvd -- not very far from the Down Town.
We visited a few shops, where mainly souvenirs were being sold, and also a few sex toys! Finally, we visited an ice cream parlour, where we tasted Italian ice cream. It is a well decorated parlour, with different coloured lovely goodies hanging across the restaurant. I took a lemon flavoured ice cream -- really liked it. The parlour is called Dolcetti Gelato.
Thereafter, while returning to take the car, we found two persons sitting on outdoor chairs, with old manual typewriters on makeshift tables. They were typing out exactly the same way I used to in 1980s to do my stories before faxing them from Moscow to Patriot office in Delhi.
I got interested. I asked them why old typewriters instead of computers? They said, tell us something, and we will type down a poem on a postcard, and give it you. I didn't ask them what were their charges, but they got interested in us, asked us where were we from. We said India, and I told them it's nostalgic for me -- as I used it decades ago for many years as a journalist.
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