The Italian nature.
[Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi]
Have you ever cycled through a daydream?
The Delhi Walla did.
I’m in Venice. One morning I left it for its surrounding country. The day was made of a blue sky. The Alps stood in the distance, the cool air was dense with bird sounds, and the narrow bicycle track was bordered on both sides by trees and streams. The strong breeze kept the clear waters of these streams in a continuous state of agitation. There was barely any other person to be seen on the pathway, though at one point it passed by a village with a church. The old church had a Murano glass chandelier painted in blue, yellow and pink. A noticeboard hanging at the top of the church’s bell tower said, “Please don’t ring the bell.”
The village also had a little museum. The exhibits comprised a few shards of centuries-old cutlery. One of the walls in the museum was covered with a map of the Mediterranean sea trade.
Further on, the pathway entered a dimly lit forest of pine trees. Beyond lay a sandy beach. This was Adriatic Sea. Further on, on the other side of the coast, lay Croatia, a land that seemed so far and foreign for comprehension that Venice felt home.
Almost a dream