All journeys are a return. Any traveller returns home the moment he sets foot outside the house. He has to come back in order to say what has happened, to turn the journey into a story.

For this reason, the paths the Traveller undertakes are tracks that lead to the knowledge and apprehension of beauty, which has so often to be rescued from the midst of misery and evil. Travelling means going to meet something the contemplation of which moves us, and before which we abandon all desire for possession, because the enjoyment resides in receiving that something for free.

That is why, before what the journey gives us, in front of the lesson it provides, what we are really getting is a moment, a chunk of time in which we have the privilege of taking something we will soon relinquish.

But it is in that moment, that tiny breadth of time when the contemplation of beauty or human misery appears to abandon us, that it installs itself in our memory and turns into knowledge, which is not built to the exclusion of others, but through them and in them turns into learning, experience… making us who we are.