Memories are what we are: our lives, our moments, our truths, our beloved ones, our friends and our times; the air we breathe, the mountain tops we see, the books we read, the people we meet. I never thought I wanted to forget anything or anybody, be they as bad as they could get, because one way or another, it is all part of my life.
Roughly a year ago, I was happy because in little more than three days, I got to visit three different regions and I climbed up to a castle, I knew the sole inhabitant of a town that still remembers the tragedy of the civil war and I got the chance to go hiking and discover a beautiful landscape, apparently not yet touched by industry.
I also had the voluptuous feeling of wondering what it would be like to live in a centennial village where everybody knows you or inside the walls of a castle. I tasted wine, ham, and olive oil and I can personally testify that a certain region in Spain does exist. So this is what I saw and this is what I remember. This is what I enjoyed so much roughly a year ago and this is what I miss. This is what I´ll always enjoy.
