Travelling is a state of mind. Discovering places and feeling the magic of the silence. Making love and surrendering your tired body to the look, the touch of skin. A thick forest whispering melodies, or the immense desert to rest your aching chest.

I am the eternal traveller. I wake up and discover the morning, slowly caressing my body.

I hear the sounds the world has to say to me and I learn. I loose myself amidst the cold enchanting wind and with it I sometimes am seduced. I make love and discover the place that you are.

Travelling is a concept. The scenery going by on the other side of the window. The anonymous houses with dark windows and, here and there, a weak light.

The city. A shapeless rug where we listen for the soul to hear the beating of our heart. The eyes across the bare and sad housefronts, discovering the mystery of the granite.

The music. The sea always present, splashing the white palette of your body, the harmony coming from you to wither like the surf at the bottom of the cliff.

Thus I travel. Thus I make you travel.

Pedro Abrunhosa