The mistral blew heavily over the snow-covered country. This winter seemed to no longer end. The cold entered your bones, and the feeling of wet clothes and constant chills seemed inevitable, even next to the lively flame of the fireplace.
I looked at the maps, the maps that cartographers had drawn, exploring the remotest reaches of the kingdom; of this, in which I too lived, and of those neighboring, that I would have liked, one day, to know with my own eyes.
The reliefs, the mountain ranges that marked the border, remote places where nobody had ever set foot.
I was a merchant. Continue reading “The Silk Road”