I experience almost all the time those ‘melancholies du voyage’, those feelings you have for a few hours, a few days or a few weeks after you return from a place you loved or you know you’ll never see again. That feeling of not knowing how to deal with the fact that your soul is still in the place you just left behind, and your body is back home dealing with the day by day life, no matter how sweet it might be. Is interesting how fast we get used to the routine of the new place we only visit for maybe 3 or 4 days, and how we need half of the time we spent there to adjust to the routine we had for months back home. Sometimes we try to bring with us the recently adopted routine and we notice very surprised that it doesn’t fit in our life back home. And every travel changes you in a way. You fall in love with the place or you hate it to death, and that’s something that gets stuck in your soul so clearly that you’ll feel it as it happened yesterday no matter how long it has been since you got back. I guess that’s the most intense thing about traveling, once it happened it never ends, it is played over and over again in your mind and you feel it as if you never returned.