this bull in particular mark my arrivel at pais vasco. or euskadi as some like to refer it as. well. i'm originally from macedonia and so i call it north spain. it's a long train ride from genève, you change train in the pyrenees because spain has smaller rails than france (silly but very romantic) and i often think of hemingways green hills of kilimanjaro on this trip which takes a full day and its funny cause. the scenery looks like the ardennes - around verviers - where i often drive thru. hilly, very green and then theres the rain which comes and goes every 20 min. it sometimes seems.

but the climate here. it's like a warm cloth around your body and i get to write on my little terrace on the northhills of bilbao, where i stay at a small pension run by an old woman. she lost her husband a long time ago and won't talk about it. his picture is on the wall behind the reception. the medals laid out and every morning the coffee is on a small tray outside my door.

i could just live here, i always think.