A Spaniard
Left and right, right and left and countless times. I have to turn the steering wheel fast. The passengers feel nauseous. That's because we didn't take the freeway – the navigator found an old serpentine road instead of more quiet one. We are worried a bit if we've chosen the right way. Our goal is to reach the little village Castellfullit de la Roca sheltered on the cliff.
Thanks God – we've arrived! A few narrow streets with partially empty houses meet us. It's very quiet here – siesta has just started. The charm of this place is not fully revealed – we cannot see the view for which we came here. An old man with white hair noticed our confusion and tells us with the smile: «Go down to the river!».
Obediently walking down the path through kitchen-gardens we get the bridge and see a sweet panorama: houses like soldiers in defense are spread along the cliff. The cathedral belfry is a fully armed commander. Who are they defending from? Maybe from fast approaching civilization? «Hold the line!» – a Spaniard shouts at them. Our hearts skip a beat with astonishment – who is this brunette girl with big eyes?
Castellfullit de la Roca
A Spaniard.
Castellfullit de la Roca. 2018.
Canvas, oil. 95x70 cm