The courtyard of the circles (author Jaime Homar).

PALMA DE MALLORCA

August 2010- May 2011

Almost twenty years later, Lázaro contemplated with the same emotion the drawing of the sierra being cut out of the airplane window. The calm sea and the dawn sky marked the austere profile of the mountains.

He then broke into the plain strewn with green and brown fields, dotted here and there by pine forests and dormant mills. The charm of the stately homes remained intact. As if time did not pass. Mallorca. Her heart sank.

But as the apparatus descended, newly built urbanizations, modern neighborhoods and functional homes with unique aesthetics were emerging.

The plane flew over the bay of Palma. The strip of sea, with the Bellver castle in the background and the impressive cathedral beached like a ship on the old wall, was still spectacular. After a smooth flight, the landing was perfect.

The airport seemed endless. It took him

yours to walk the corridors of the new terminal until you find the baggage claim hall.

He was impressed by the number of foreign tourists that filled the place.

When he finally left the compound loaded with his two suitcases, he was dazzled by the August sun. A smile. A hug. Rubén How are you, friend? ;How long! Let me look at you .. You have hardly changed ... Although, gosh, I see you much thinner. how do you do it? Do you only carry two suitcases for two all year?

Always the same Castilian austerity! Welcome to the Mediterranean!

Rubén choked on words. As talkative as his friend remembered him. Friendly, joking, very jovial, always ready to help out. The years had accentuated his tendency to gain weight, although he hid a little overweight thanks to his height and the loose shirts. The pronounced entrances made his broad forehead stand out even more. His sparse hair read ruffled as he fell into an unkempt half mane. The mischievous glow of his eyes stood out on his face, his cheeks are rosy, and the gentle expression of a mouth accustomed to smiling. His strangely thin and small nose could barely support the frames of old-fashioned, worn-out glasses. In short, the kind of person totally unconcerned about his appearance.

They got into the car. They quickly scoured the

stretch of highway that connects the airport to the city.

They entered the avenues until they reached the center.

Then they meandered through narrow streets that seemed to hide from the light. At last they parked in a small cobbled square.

Lázaro noticed the line of shadow that divided into

two the facade of an old church. The same as a solar quadrant.