Quim & Nina

My grandparents (Quim & Nina), who left Spain during the Spanish Civil War. They escaped through the Pyrenees path, and upon arriving in France (separately), they found a France invaded by the Nazis in the midst of World War II.Quim and Nina, two souls born in the vibrant streets of Barcelona, Spain, where the aroma of fresh bread and the murmur of the sea were as much a part of them as their own laughter.They were not heroes from novels or marble figures, but ordinary people who faced extraordinary times—wars that tore their world apart, exiles that pushed them far away, and a love that, like a lantern in the storm, and the dreams of freedom never went out.This is not just a story of battles and escapes, though there are those, with bombs falling and ships crossing oceans. It is a tale of hands reaching for each other in the darkness, of laughter that defies fear, of a man who told stories with a lit cigarette and a woman who mended wounds with thread and hope. From the cobblestone squares of Catalonia to the palm trees of Venezuela, Quim and Nina built a home where freedom was not just a dream, but a daily heartbeat.Their children—Nuria, Jacky, Liliane—carried that spark, and I, who guard their memories, feel their warmth every time I think of them.The essence of their lives—their courage, their joy, their love—shines without filters. I invite you to walk with them, to feel the dust of Barcelona under your steps, from the warm afternoons of Barcelona...