Guitar maker, Sevilla

Two-and-a-half hours or so by high-speed train, through rugged country and farmland, brought us to the city of Sevilla, where the temperature was 36 Celsius and the sun was infernally burning deep into the old stone plazas and narrow lanes of the touristy but beautiful quarter of Santa Cruz where, after casting about with increasing hopelessness in all directions, we eventually found our hotel.

Later that afternoon, I grabbed this image of a guitar maker.

Guitar maker, Sevilla.jpg

Travelling through life without a map

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