On the first page, Mea listed the places she wanted to see. Colombine drew a small blue flower between them. Lu Cia left the next page blank. For whatever occurred to them along the way, she said. And so their shared travel plan took shape: part intention, part mischief.
Illustrated fiction inspired by original Travel2City photographs. Four remembered moments, rather than a one-day itinerary.
The yellow tram passed the church just as Mea was about to begin a sentence. Its bell got there first. Colombine bent over the open notebook and drew a window with one stroke, then added three heads. “We haven't even boarded yet,” Mea objected. “That's the advantage of drawing,” Colombine smiled. Lu Cia leaned closer until their shoulders touched. “And where are we going?” Mea glanced at the list, then at the three faces in the window. For once, she didn't mind all the empty paper between the place names.
“Leave room in the margin. We might still fit there.”
On the steps at Sintra, the notebook suddenly weighed more than it had below. Mea tucked it against her side and considered the next stone step. “The plan said romantic wandering,” she breathed. “This is the vertical version,” Lu Cia said, offering her hand. Behind them, Colombine laughed so hard that all three had to stop. For a moment there was nothing to photograph or write down. Just warm stone, one hand in another, and Colombine's blue flower slipping precariously behind her ear. Mea straightened it with her free hand. Then they climbed a few steps more.
“It's still romantic wandering. Just a little uphill.”
At Guincho, Mea opened the notebook to add a few lines at last. The wind turned three pages at once. Colombine caught one with her palm, Lu Cia held down the opposite corner, and Mea tried to rescue a sentence she had already forgotten. Her scarf danced between them like a small unruly flag. “I think the sea is editing us,” she said. “Making cuts?” asked Colombine. “Rearranging things,” Lu Cia decided. All three bent over the paper, their hair tangled by the wind, their shoulders close. The open page held only that blue flower. Suddenly, it was enough.
“You don't have to fill every blank page straight away.”
The lighthouse above the cliff caught the last warm light, and Colombine finally put her pencil away. “I'm going to let this one happen,” she said. Mea closed the notebook but kept a finger between the pages. Lu Cia noticed the small movement and smiled. “Afraid you'll lose your place?” “More afraid it might look like the end.” They stood together for a while, looking along the coast. Then Colombine linked arms with Mea, and Lu Cia fell into step beside them. The notebook stayed closed. When it opened again later, the first sentence on the new page read: We haven't seen everything yet.
“We haven't seen everything yet.”
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.
