Summer is in full swing.
The hot smell of cobbled stones is here again. Climbing up the narrow medieval street is never easy under the scorching sun. Fortunately, there is always an ice-cream place close by to soften the heat, refreshing desserts paving the way to one of the cathedrals, so peaceful and more importantly cool, almost cold even on the hottest of days.
Time always stays still here, as if preserved in an invisible capsule. Tall grey walls, sky high ceilings where even slightest sound will come to life and travel between columns long enough to be noticed. It's certainly the place to hide from mid-day heat just browsing through familiar faces of stone kings, queens, saints... Elaborate decorations, grey stone floors that have seen so much, ever present smell of the past always here to remind of itself.
If you close your eyes and then open them and look up those stairs behind the half-opened iron door, it may lead you away from your own era into one of those centuries you read about.
It's always half-dark and a little spooky, but so enticing, luring to follow the steps, wondering what's up in there, fabric of time being so fragile.
When having had enough of a mystery I venture outside, still hiding in the shadow, past the gate, and look down on the city with its sea of red tiled roofs below. It's easily the highest place and the view is stunning in every season. Slowly moving river with all the bridges, cafes by the banks with people under colorful umbrellas leisurely sipping coffees.
Hanging by the side of the long running downwards steps hours can go by easily.
There's no purpose, no yesterday or tomorrow, it's just this day bathing in golden shades of sun, swaying with trees, dancing with lights on ever changing surface of water. The perfect moment.
Years have passed but from time to time I still stand there breathing hot summer air, listening to the murmur of dozens of languages mixing up, staying in the familiar moment, longing to walk down the same streets back then...