Extopia

The houses in Extopia are built on gently rising terraces which have been constructed not for agriculture or defence but so that every resident can enjoy an uninterrupted view of the lagoon. Before daybreak, fishermen in smocks and boots cast off from the jetties which, from above, appear to attach the lagoon to the shore, in search of the exotic fish for which the city is renowned. This is the focus of leisure activities too, and by early afternoon a scatter of small craft - dinghies, skiffs, kayaks – have displaced the waterfowl which congregate to feed at dawn. All ages delight in being afloat. Small children shriek in pedalos, courting couples loll on cushions in gilded gondolas, older folk gaze from the bow of the ferry as it is tugged across the bay by a cable..

The water’s edge is lined with cafes, their tables elevated on boarded platforms so that anyone who has not been lucky enough to rent a boat can watch the activities on the water while warming their hands on mugs of hot chocolate. So fervent are the citizens of Extopia in their devotion to the water, that the watchers have developed the ability to feel as though they are in a boat while observing it, combining two complementary but otherwise irreconcilable pleasures into a doubly satisfying experience. Those enjoying this conflation of sensations have a glazed, faraway countenance and gently rock while seated at the cloth-covered café tables, as though responding to the movement of a boat. This technique for heightening ecstasy has been extended to other spheres. In Extopia, spectators at football matches or in theatres both view the entertainment and savour the thrill of participation. The most skilful exponents of this art are able to summon the sensations of multiple activities while engaging in none of them. Relaxing in a favourite chair or dozing on a bus, they can simultaneously relish making love to their partner, eating a ripe pear and winning a game of chess.

The quest for ever more recondite and intense combinations has an addictive momentum. Far from the lapping lagoon, in darkened back rooms, dwell the inhabitants of Extopia who have perfected the art of multiplying the pleasure sensations, piling inputs from all five senses into rapturous sensory climaxes. If the traveler should peer inside these hostelries, he will see gaunt, staring figures, redolent of the denizens of opium dens, who have conflated a lifetime’s delights into an evanescent orgy, and have aged accordingly.