The world is large, people are beautiful.
In a perfect world I would be traveling at my own comfortable pace. I’d be watching people– each one is beautiful and fascinating in his own right. I’d learn about art, history, culture, food. I’d attempt to communicate in strange languages. I’d take pictures for a living. And at the end of the day there would be someone I could come home to.
He was indeed playing Quizás, Quizás, Quizás on his Spanish guitar.