Especially the last years I’m always expecting my trip to Spain with great longing. But once I arrive, I sadly start to count the days to my depart. It’s like I can’t be far, but I can’t be to close either. In Belgium I miss the sun, the hustle, the loud voices and the laughs everywhere, the shops closing at nine in the evening, the real “pintxos” and “tapas”, that unexpected coffee with a friend, the smile from unknown people. And when I come here I miss my life, my new “home”, my peace of mind, my way of doing things. I guess that when we finally move to Madrid (less than 1 month to go) everything will be much better. I’ll be closer to my old home and my family and I’ll be able to come more often but for shorter periods of time.

One moment, one place. Sometimes it’s difficult to get a good combination of this two variables.