The gamble begins: I set off for Spain.
The caravan of the past travels to the present :
A paradox on wheels, it stops time moving in the wakes.
Barcelona, Zaragoza, Madrid, Granada, Córdoba, San Sebastián,
six places from East to North,
the silhouette of a bird traced onto a map.
Eight summer days,
a calendar of Sundays.
The emissaries are sent,
the gift I carry with me:
I would swap your notebook for a book with mirrored words,
each concert for faith in the miracle.
Let us wish each other a good trip.