On June 9, 2001 at this very moment, we were dancing the night away with our wedding guests, enjoying the warm Italian spring in a villa and under the protective gaze of old, polished statues and contemplating the future under the starry sky. Eleven years ago, we got married surrounded by family and friends. The moment is still very lively in our heads and happily populated our conversations today while we enjoyed a few rays of pale sunshine far away from that Venetian villa of yesteryore. To relive the moment feels like a pilgrimage of the soul and senses that leaves you content and trustful. And this is where I probably fully grasp - or imagine to grasp - for the very first time the meaning of pilgrimages, whether religious or purely lay. It does not really matter in the end, these are only social labels. What really counts is to find a personal pilgrimage, one that belongs to you, and only you.
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