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“I dream of painting and then I paint my dream”. Vincent Van Gogh
“Spring is late this year, the crowds should be fine”, replied the lady at the travel desk. She was right, it was the middle of March and the mercury fluctuated between 0 and 2 C. The week we were here, the sun had graced us for barely for an hour each day. It had even snowed a day before, but I was not convinced. After all, this was the shrine of the master of masters, the one who painted his dreams. Continue reading Visiting Vincent→
