Official confessions

Barcelona, Zaragoza, Bilbao, San Sebastian, Biarritz, Nice, Torino, Lyon and I'm hooked to this. Tomorrow: train from Lyon Part-Dieu to Paris.

My red notebook is filling up with notes from cities that pass faster than I would hope, with names of people I'll probably never meet. My mind's filling up with images of faces I don't want to forget, moments racing in a car down the narrow streets of Nice, miniature love stories on Boulevard Victor Hugo and feeling blue on the way to the next city.

The rhythm of leaving is catching up on the soles of my shoes; it was hard at first but it gets easier. Letting go is becoming more bearable. Even if there are moments when you doubt it, your next great encounter is on its way: down the street, on the morning train, in a city three hours away. You lose your faith, but you get back on your feet; the possibilities make travelling so addicting.

I don't have the time to take any pictures, neither would I want to. I want everyone to stay bright in my memory, not as fading colours in a picture book. Change is always constant and pictures could slow it down, but I don't want to risk losing the moment.

I won't be updating this blog anymore, since it doesn't feel important anymore. I've seen and learnt so much, I've experienced feelings so precious I don't know how to share them, how to put them into words so that they could be translated in the right way.

I'm off to Paris. There's still so much to see, so many people to meet, so many things to learn.