From this altitude, a country is like a green corner with clouds on the top, an unknown site.

SometimeS, daily life make us consider the Earth, a small place: a street, a bus stop, a room...

It is when you get on board a plane, after overcoming panic, that you realize that the small ones are us, not the land under our feet, that seems to be immense, passionate, completely out of reach.

Sometimes the notion that every small place I discover is nothing compared to the immensity of the Earth and that I'll never get to know nor even a small portion of it, causes me a lot of anxiety.

I fully understand those who has made of travelling a passion because it may turn into something that flows in our veins in a sort of race against ourselves. A trend to desperately know and be in a position to state: "I know a part of the world".

But it is not true, for every place we discover, there are a hundred that we nor even think of its existence.

Perhaps this is the reason behind some of us publishing travel magazines or reading them so as to capture the places on the pages, in fonts, they thus belong to us and we can make a cross on the "I've been there" column.

I can only say that if you are one of us, if you experiment the same sort of madness, welcome to another issue of this magazine, to this planet and do not forget that the Earth is under our feet, waiting for us.

Consuelo Elipe