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Bilbao, August 2018. Still dazed by the flight of the plane, I took the suitcase and went to the "exit" sign: the sliding doors opened, and I saw many people stretching their necks to see beyond the multitude, perceiving the familiar faces. I was wearing a linen shirt, shorts, sneakers and around my neck I had my headphones. Passing among the people, first I saw his smile, then his face with the beard like Chris McCandless: he was Victor, my best friend. Vic and I met three years earlier in England, he was in a group of Spaniards that welcomed me as one of them since the beginning. In those weeks, I improved English and learned Spanish! At the airport, however, I found not only Vic but also a part of the group of guys I met in England: that reunion brought down a cloud of emotions on all of us, which reached its climax when my friend said "Welcome Hermano". Then we went to visit the city. Crossed by the cold Nerviòn river, Bilbao surprised me very much because, despite being in a metropolitan area, it was very quiet. The families strolled serenely on the riverside letting their children run in the adjacent meadow, bordered by the coming and going bicycles, the silent traffic made me notice the harmony present in that part of the world, unknown to me until that moment. After lunch, we went to visit the Guggenheim: an exhibition of contemporary art that made us lose the idea of time, making us fall in love with the works of Anselm Kiefer. Between a "cerveza" and some tapas, the day ended and Victor and I returned to his home, walking under the starry sky, among the refineries illuminate and the majestic pale wind turbines that stood on the hills adjacent to the highway. Even if I promised Vic not to leave him alone during the way, soon I fell into the world of Morpheus. The following day, the first rays of the as soon as the sun entered from the cracks of the window gently waking me up, the smell of coffee came from the kitchen. The morning began with a trip by car to reach the Pas river in Cantabria: kayaking! Even though it was summer, the air was quite humid and there was a very hard-fought race: if neither Vic nor I would have ever kayaked, that would have been our first experience. Canoeing down the main channel of the river where we started to move forward, the people around us, mostly young people like us, but also families with children, stepped aside. kayaking is not an easy sport, especially if you must travel for 20 km! After the first bend, Vic and I began to hinder each other, firstly with the paddle, then with the hands until, due to the current, we both ended up in the water and laughing we started relaxing. Returning home in the evening, we slept until the following afternoon, when we embarked on a long walk on the hills adjacent to the Bilbao's estuary: the torrid heat of 2pm accompanied us along the way with Jone, a friend of Vic who, who couldn’t speak English well. he tried to make me understand what he said in Spanish. In the evening, we laid down on an immense meadow marked by a crystalline air and a unique atmosphere: there were several pale aeolians, with their swinging noise it seemed they were reciting a poem in an unknown language. I was tired but he smiling, told me that we did all that journey just to wait for the sun to go down, because at night, far from the city lights, we could see the starry sky in search of desires, in the form of shootingstars. In total silence, in that magical situation, a shooting star passed and Jone told us to make a wish, but it was already warned: to live an unforgettable holiday. The following days passed quickly, and we found ourselves in a blink of an eye there again, in the airport: it is never easy to say goodbye, so we just said, as always, while crying, "see you again".