Flying Suitcase

Outside the walls there’s a whole other world. Two actually. On one side is the city, the rest of the city, where regular people lead regular lives, go to work, go to school, fuel up their tanks, and clean their floors. On the other, is the sea, the Adriatic and everything it brings with it. [...]

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When night falls in Dubrovnik’s old town, the white stones bathe in gold. Under lamp posts, and in the shadows of flickering moths, they sit back and work away the stiffness of an over worked day. The light hits all the right spots – the stained glass of the cathedral, the clock on the bell [...]

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They serve the sea on a platter, in glass bowls, on pizza, between bread. They serve it along the waterfront, in tiny lanes and along the steps. The catch, it goes without saying, is fresh, caught between the dark night and dawn; maybe this explains the lurking cats around the town. The ‘but’ comes before [...]

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I have the city to one side and the sea on another, but my eyes are locked on to this window. It opens out to the walkway on the wall, unwittingly inviting a stream of tourists in. I can’t imagine living with this kind of pressure, let alone drying out my laundry for the world [...]

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From the walls I look down at an orange sea; the geometric ripples are broken by stained glass windows and bored pigeons. I follow the trail to the end, but when I get there, the rooftops of Dubrovnik just spread out further. It’s all orange but it isn’t the same. There are two colours up [...]

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