The never-ending journey

The journey can be voluntary, wandering to write travel literature. But it can also be accidental, susceptible to the randomness of the fact of being alive. There is a conscious nomadism that never ceases to wonder about the deep sense of roaming, and there are also unwanted migrations, fleeing from famine and wars. There are travellers who seek the immeasurable dimension, but also unspeakable journeys born in camps of horror and death. Ever since Homer, travelling has installed us in perpetual movement. It is the never-ending journey.