Once upon a time Andrea lived in Spain (no, this is not a fairy tale). Everybody who once saw the typical spanish rituals of the “Semana Santa” knows which special feelings the splendour of the holy processions creates. The most amazing ones (in my modest opinion) are celebrated in Sevilla, Zamora and Orihuela.

This year I visited Good Friday a eastern procession in my little ex home-village Altea (a wonderful place, you will see!). While taking pictures for a magazine, I was … against my expectation … continously fighting against the tears.

Maybe it was because such a long time had passed since I last saw a Semana Santa procession. Maybe because such a big wave of emotions escorts the slow walk of the penitents. Maybe the music which defines their solemn rhythm carried me away … or everything about it.

I don’t know. It was impressing and great.