When I hold this photo in my hands, the sea surface becomes liquid, flowing under viable rays of late August sun. Is it the memories resurfacing? Whatever the secret of sea coming to life so vividly, it’s the reason this whole scenery is so “ideal” in summer, especially in the last two weeks of August when people are still flocking to Dubrovnik, although the usual run of things would rather have them back in their offices and classrooms as early as possible.

Sometimes cities surprise you and you find the one perfume that suits your want not to be perceived as more serious than you really are where you least expect it. Peach, vanilla, pear, fresh grass and musky rose is how I’m going to remember my recent trip to Salzburg, just as CK Euphoria always recalls memories of opera nights in Vienna.

Upon arriving to the seaside last week after not having set foot there in quite a while, I realized Crikvenica is the only place in the world that I consciously associate with particular smells. Olfaction-wise I’ve gotten so oblivious to my surroundings that I have trouble naming even one smell reminiscent of Ljubljana, New York or any other city, but Crikvenica is much different.

The basis for my ideal city is Venice, Venice of parallel universes, flowing queens and the smell of violin polish I always sense around Rialto. Actually, Venice is more than a base: the only element my ideal city would differ from Venice in is boulevardslike those of Rome. Venice doesn’t have boulevards for it’s too dense, its houses and streets crammed together so tightly that they encage high humidity and summer fevers, making them almost endemic. Rome respires in a similar way, but as it’s spread across seven hills, the air has more space to unfold.