Looking for
No Trails

Everything looks wet, damp or at least humid, the appearance of the ground is often misleading, with water, mud, deep holes or moving stones hidden by the shrubs and peat. The weather changes in a matter of minutes, as views come just to disappear as if one in trying to find a way out of a labyrinth where walls keep on moving around, barring the way. But then, this very labyrinth, this very unexpected and these very hardships make it all worth. Because only after an intense rain one gets the bluest of skies.

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For pictures from my trip, click on the link below.

There are several tables at the cafe filling a wide sidewalk, but most chairs are set in groups of two or three facing the street, without a table. Some people sit and talk in mild voices, despite the noisy street where motorcycles, trailers and cabs create a constant humdrum, where a man by a truck filled with oranges calls for customers. Others, even though they have company, simply sit and look in the distance, a small glass of thé à la menthe in hand, while the cafe attendant busies himself to bring a new glass upon a mere look or small gesture one makes. Conversation here does not need a proper environment, context to occur or carry on. And, one might argue, neither does life.

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For pictures from my trip, click on the link below.