Colombine announced that this time we would pay attention to the grand things. City walls, history, panoramas. Lu Cia nodded so solemnly that I began to suspect trouble. I adjusted my scarf and decided we could measure the size of our experiences once we got home.
An imagined story inspired by original Travel2City photographs. The four scenes bring together separate stops, rather than a one-day itinerary. The characters, dialogue and viewpoints are an artistic interpretation.
Dubrovnik's walls rose so high before us that Colombine only had to extend a hand and look as though she had personally commissioned them. “See? Exactly what I had in mind.” The stone glowed in the sun, blue sky stretched above the tower, and for a moment I forgot what I had been about to say. Lu Cia held her notebook to her chest. “Should I start a new page?” “At least two,” said Colombine. I smiled. The journey had barely begun, and we were already in danger of needing bigger paper.
“We've found the grand things. Now to fit them in the notebook.”
In Trsteno, tall bamboo stems surrounded us. Light drew stripes between them, and I tilted my head to see all the way to the canopy. “Hold still,” said Colombine. She carefully lifted a tiny leaf from my hair and showed it on her fingertip. Lu Cia laughed. “You've found a souvenir.” “It found me,” I corrected her. Colombine ceremoniously presented the leaf as though it were another Dubrovnik tower. “The smallest attraction of the day.” Beneath the tall bamboo stood three grown women admiring one perfectly ordinary leaf. For a while, none of us felt like moving on.
From the water, Korčula's roofs arranged themselves into a quiet picture. A bell tower rose above the trees, a stone wall ran beneath the houses, and the surface glittered between us. We leaned against the little boat's rail. “Well?” Colombine asked. “Can this hold its own against our leaf?” Lu Cia closed one eye as though comparing two works of art. “An entirely different category.” I pointed to the tower, then to her notebook. “Give each one a page.” Colombine nodded contentedly. We didn't have to decide whether the wide view or the tiny thing from my hair was lovelier. Our journey had room for both.
On Pelješac, the sky blazed orange and pink. We sat on a low wall, and Lu Cia left her notebook closed on her knees. Colombine leaned forward. “All right. This really is magnificent.” For a while, we simply watched the colours changing above the dark hills. Then Lu Cia remarked quietly, “And the leaf has the best place in the notebook. It doesn't have to wait for me to draw it.” Our laughter returned like an old friend. I drew my scarf closer and looked at them both. One day, we might muddle the order of our stops. Probably not this evening, or that sentence.
“The smallest souvenir had a page of its own.”
From notebook to book
The Map with No Last Page
The world of Travel2City continues between the covers of a book. Discover The Map with No Last Page and more illustrated journeys.
