As Kerouac says, our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life. Me and brother went on a journey which took three weeks on the road. Our journey started from Portugal’s small coast town, Faro; which is then followed by historical paths of Andalusia. We stepped out into the wide streets of Seville and walked on the pavements of Cadiz; then hills of Granada saluted us with its graceful Alhambra palace shined by the sunset. After spending days in Andalusia, we were on the road again: halfway across south Spain, at the dividing line between the West of our past and the East of our future. After a nine hour night-bus journey, we found ourselves in Valencia. Spent our time walking and photographing its streets, its people. Days later, we were in our last stop, Barcelona. Inhaling the Catalonian spirit for four days long, discovering the ancient city and getting lost in the back alleys.. and here I am back again.
Here are the witnesses of my journey.
“Not all those who wander are lost.” – J.R.R. Tolkien