Because they have released a documentary, not particularly advisable, Dear Werner, I have known that the homonymous filmmaker Herzog made a walking trip from Munich to Paris in the winter of 1974. And he picked up the commutes of this journey in his book Vom Gehen im Eis. I only knew him another book, Werner Herzogi, which is a kind of diary of the random shoot of Fitzcarraldo in Eroberung des Nutzlos (Conquest of the useless), recommended by Koldo Almandoz. Let us remain, however, with what motivated this documentary, which is not particularly advisable.

In winter, walking from Munich to Paris. But why? Because a friend, Lotte Eisner, Eisnerin, was about to die. And walking from where he was, because he firmly believed that his friend would remain alive. Coat, compass, take a minimum bag and walk for twenty-two days under the snow, rain, hail; often without the map, milk and mandarins as staple food, break a window to sleep and, in grain, dive. We follow the walker, just like we do in Pello Lizarralde's books, pointillist descriptions, one-detail phrases, one-sentence passages, followed by one. “I never felt so much loneliness before.” And a constant doubt: Eisnerin, what will it be like? Are you going to stay alive? Do I move quite fast?

In the end, only the account of the trip, I cannot be more interested in the reason that the trip has started: visiting a friend who is about to die. And only by whom I would, has it occurred to me who would make that journey for me -- that nobody ever does it, on the other hand, because I get very bad mood when I get sick, as if I don't want to accept the vulnerability of the human being. I have been very reassured when I thought that today they are resolved by means of a video call.