Three years ago, when I was on a 12-hour walking tour of Amsterdam, although with a 2-hour sunset from the tavern, I was almost dead on my feet, but I didn't take off my stiletto ankle boots. However, late at night, waiting for the bus, for the last half hour I was literally clinging to the hand of Dmitry Sokolov, a young guy from Krasnodar, a beginner and a very talented poet, who also arrived in the capital of the Netherlands that day…

      Now my heels gave a soft knock at an unfamiliar street of Dubrovnik. I walked and looked for a sign of some decent cafe for locals, not for tourists like me.

      I opened the door of a small coffee shop after evaluating the nice smell emanating from it and floating in the air, like a genie escaping from a jug… Like ether. Almost tangible and thick.

      Strange thing…

      I wonder if anyone except me and psychologists pay attention to the fact that men visit cafes in the morning to have a cup of coffee?

      It was pretty early. They were not hurrying anywhere, sitting and watching the news on tablets. Of course there were eccentrics reading newspapers, but they were older.

      A kind of testosterone parade.

      This is as true as the fact that in the morning it is difficult to notice the same number of women with a cup of coffee in their hands…

      As for men, here they are! Calm and self-satisfied. I do not understand why males do not like to drink coffee in the morning at home…

      After all, are they all alone?

      Or is this because in the morning they are as relaxed as possible and should not show their dignity to anyone or prove their significance…

      I don't know.

      I just like to watch. They definitely don't understand that this is my favorite part of the morning in another country! I collect impressions. And then I compare it with past observations. It can be very funny.

      I ordered a double Americano and a chocolate muffin. Enjoying this morning, coffee and company, I felt an incredible pleasure from life, the fruits of civilization and, anticipating a wonderful tour, smiled at my thoughts, sitting at the last table of a small coffee shop.

      Having estimated that Doremi woke up, I sent him a picture on Instagram. Then I looked at my route. It turned out that the Aquarium was a kilometer away. I could do that…

      I stood up, finished my coffee and bought a bottle of water so that I could leisurely set off to admire the marine creatures…

      Morning had just begun. Cool. Rare passerbys smiled to me. I smiled back at them.

      And there was the Aquarium.

      In summer it was open from nine to twenty-one, and you could take your time looking at eels, tuna, breams and mullets, maragotas, scorpion fish, lobsters and sea turtles…

      I wonder who was the first to think that such a museum can be placed in the medieval fortress of St. John? It turns out to be two in one!

      A stone gallery, a fairly wide corridor…

      Aquariums were installed in the walls, probably not less than thirty of them. Fish: large and not that large, constantly chatting, opening their mouths wide, and each time sincerely amazed when people for some reason throw coins into the outdoor Aquarium pool. I also could not resist and threw a metal ten cent into the water. It fell next to the puzzled turtle, which flinched, blinked or winked at me with the lower eyelid, and then, as if nothing had happened, slowly rubbed its eye with its front paw…

      «Wow!» I thought, «can you do that!»

      As soon as I got out to breathe some fresh air, I noticed Doremi sitting on the entrance steps and waiting for someone, constantly looking at his favorite Swiss