Her shoes had walked enough streets to deserve a holiday of their own. Beside the sea, Mea looked down and decided they need prove nothing more today. This coastal collage begins with an ordinary walk and continues with an event that travel plans tend to underestimate: sitting comfortably.
Illustrated fiction inspired by original Travel2City photographs. The places come from separate journeys, not a one-day itinerary. Characters, dialogue, props and some composition and lighting are artistic interpretations.
Pale mountains rose above Makarska, and the waterfront had plenty of room for a leisurely pace. Mea noticed she was still walking as though she had something to catch. She looked at her shoes. They obeyed without complaint, which suddenly seemed rather unfair. She slowed and allowed herself a longer look across the harbour. Nobody was counting her minutes. Here, she could simply stay and let the view do some work instead.
“We need not arrive anywhere ahead of ourselves today.”
The green bench in Brela required no explanation. Mea sat down, removed her shoes and placed them neatly together. She rested her bare feet on the smooth surface, adjusted her scarf and exhaled. Her two brown companions suddenly looked very content beside the bench. She decided to give them no instructions. Had they been able to speak, they might have reminded her how often just a little farther had meant an entire additional walk.
Near Baška Voda, the pines drew dark shapes across the pale shore. Mea found a comfortable spot, spread a small towel and listened to the water. The shoes stayed beside her bag while the world briefly narrowed to shade, sea and gentle movements of air. She needed neither to collect pebbles nor take notes. Looking was enough. She liked that simple programme so much that she extended it, without guilt, by several very unobtrusive minutes.
“This may quite reasonably count as the main event.”
In Orebić, she put her shoes back on. The sky was trying shades of pink and gold, and the water accepted them without comment. Mea set off along the shore, but this time she was not getting ahead of her own day. She carried the rest with her, as though it fitted beneath her scarf. The shoes continued quietly. They seemed agreed: even after a break, one can walk gently enough not to immediately need the next one.
“Let us go. At a pace the sea would approve of.”
From notebook to book
The Map with No Last Page
Travel2City journeys continue between the covers of a book. Discover our illustrated travel world.
The sea was in no hurry. I no longer needed to be, either.
By evening, the shoes were ready again. So was Mea, though she stopped inventing another destination. Sometimes a journey succeeds because we allow it to stop moving for a while.
